0U 
 
 THE TALE OF THE BUCCANEER; 
 
 A BOTTLE OF RED INK; 
 THE DECLINE AND FALL OF GHOSTS; 
 
 AND 
 
 tijer Ingre&ients. 
 
 BY 
 
 HENRY MEREDITH PARKER, 
 
 BENGAL CIVIL SERVICE. 
 
 VOLUME THE FIRST. 
 
 W. THACKER & Co., 
 
 fc 7, NEWGATE STREET, LONDON; 
 
 AND 
 
 ST. ANDREWS LIBRARY, CALCUTTA. 
 1851.
 
 CONTENTS OF VOL. I. 
 
 Page. 
 THE TALE OF THE BUCCANEER 2 
 
 A BOTTLE OF RED INK 56 
 
 THE PICTURE GALLERY Ill 
 
 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS 132 
 
 THE SONG OF THE FORGE ; 216 
 
 LINES WRITTEN IN THE CoLOSSEt'M 221 
 
 AGINCOURT 225 
 
 SKETCHES FROM SHAKSPERIAN TEXTS 255 
 
 A TALE OF THE INDIAN OCEAN 271 
 
 THE DECLINE AND FALL OF GHOSTS ... . 293
 
 BOLE PONJIS 
 
 UNFOLDED IN A FEW WORDS PRELIMINARY. 
 
 FAIE and charming reader of the dearer, far more 
 worthy, and more noble half of the human race ; you 
 may have heard of courteous reader of the more 
 disagreeable moiety ; you may have been familiar 
 with " PUNCH." I do not mean the jocund potentate 
 who now rules hilarious from his palace in Fleet 
 Street; neither do I allude to that edifying creature 
 who slays Judy and hangs the hangman, to the 
 infinite delight of the people's majesty in all public 
 thoroughfares; still less do I advert to the punch, 
 whack, thwack, or thump, which is delivered and 
 received, on all suitable occasions, with such entire
 
 equanimity and infinite gusto, by the bellicose natives 
 of " this warlike isle." No ! I refer to none of 
 those things, but to the bland, genial, and harmonious 
 composition which, " In my hot youth, when George 
 the Third was King," soothed a Regent's cares of 
 empire, and did then, and now, shed a tender glow 
 
 + 
 
 of generous and convivial immortality over the pleasant 
 city of Glasgow. 
 
 Perhaps, honoured reader, you may have heard of 
 the PrmjAB or region of the Five "Waters; pretty 
 certainly you never did hear, unless you have sojourned 
 in British Asia, of a PUNCHAYT or Jury of Five.* 
 But you have heard of Punch, the jovial and joyous 
 drink, without either knowing of, or caring for, the 
 great fact, that the name and the thing, which is 
 
 * The bloody and remorseless democracy of the Kalsah, or 
 Seik army, was also ruled, or misruled, by red handed juries of 
 five, called " Panch," or as Major Edwardes adds, ' vulgarly, 
 Punch." A rose by any other name will smell as sweet, 
 but that such unmitigated rascals should have been called 
 " Punch," afflicts me.
 
 PEEFACE. ix 
 
 also a mystical combination of the number five, came 
 from 
 
 " Where the gorgeous east 
 Showers on her kings barbaric, pearl and gold :" 
 
 thus however it is. An old writer, one of the early 
 voyagers to India, says that he arrived at a place 
 called Sootanooty, (now Calcutta) where certain of 
 our countrymen, servants of the Merchant Adventurers, 
 trading to the East Indies, managed a small factory ; and 
 " There," he proceeds to state I quote from memory, 
 for I am ashamed to say that I could never in all 
 my life keep a common place book " There I did 
 get huge contentment and delight ; and more specially 
 from a certain delectable liquor which was called 
 " BOLE PONJIS," a drink prepared and wondrously 
 affected by the Moors, and the secret of which the 
 worthy gentlemen of the Factory had won, being the 
 best thing they could win, from the heathens aforesaid. 
 Now it was surely a drink most curious and delicate,
 
 being made in this wise; that is to say, with two 
 portions of the spirit called Eak or Arakky, and one 
 portion of fair water, and one portion of the juice of 
 the sugar cane, and one portion of the juice of a 
 little fruit, called in that country of Bengalla, by the 
 Pojtingals and Moors, limboo, nimboo, or lime. Now 
 truly this compound of five, in the Moors' language, 
 " Paunch," pleasant proportions, did procure for our 
 company, at the Factory of Sootanooty aforesaid, 
 mirth and jollity and great entertainment; and I 
 did mind to bear with me to England the secret of 
 this excellent " BOLE PONJIS ;" being, methought, as 
 good and savoury as the tobacco carried by Sir Walter 
 Raleigh, Knight, from the Virginias ; or as the tea, 
 which hath now in our days been brought from 
 Cathay." 
 
 This, friendly or inimical reader, is the veritable 
 history of the first discovery, by civilized man, of 
 that rare composition " Paunch," Anglic " Punch,"
 
 PREFACE. Xi 
 
 the thing of five proportions. " Two of strong and 
 one of weak, one of sour and one of sweet," (according 
 to the old distich,) so wonderfully affected by the 
 infidel Moors, its inventors, who cannot drink wine, 
 and styled by the old voyager " BOLE PONJIS," being 
 his version of what his entertainers, at Sootanooty, 
 no doubt called a " Bowl of Punch." 
 
 Kind reader, I also have, after my fashion, endea- 
 voured to compound for you " BOLE PONJIS." I 
 trust that it may find the same favour in your eyes 
 as the great original found in those of our antique 
 traveller, and not be pronounced w r holly unpalatable. 
 But if the weak or the sour should be thought to pre- 
 dominate, and bear an undue proportion to the nobler 
 elements, I can only say with poor Clara Gozul, 
 " Excmez les fautes de Tauteur" 
 
 H. M. P.
 
 ERRATA. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 Page 1, Line 14, for " gutteral," read " guttural." 
 ,, 2, 3, for " bronze," read " bronzed." 
 59, 16, for " Landholm," read " Lindholm.' 
 107, 12, for " 1803," read " 1802." 
 ,,311, 1, for "add," read "and." 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 Page 2, Line 1, for " rote tint sleep," read " ilee 
 ,,197, 14, for " lection," read " telectian" 

 
 IN the following lines I have attempted nothing in 
 the fashion of the hour, that is to say, nothing either 
 sentimental, philanthropical, mystical, metaphysical, 
 or compounded of all four ; but simply a rough rhymed 
 Tale, such as the watch on deck might listen to under 
 the weather bulwark of a squally night. 
 
 I should like to hear it recited, not by an Opera- 
 house Page in tight silks, having one hand upon her 
 hip, and a cap with a little plume in the other ; nor 
 by a Troubadour, all legs and ruff and slashes, with 
 a mandoline, after the method of Troubadours on French 
 clocks ; but by an old sea dog from the neighbourhood 
 of Flamborough Head or Holy Island, with a slight 
 soupcon of northern gutteral, and a voice like that of 
 the late Mr. Dragonetti's double bass. Humane 
 reader, be pleased to bear this amiable weakness of 
 the author in mind, should you honour him by 
 perusing The Tale of the Buccaneer.
 
 THE TALE OF THE BUCCANEER 
 
 An antique hall on the Coast of Kent. In a gorgeous but 
 gloomy apartment, men richly habited, with fierce bronze features, 
 bearing the marks of strife against the elements and in the battle, 
 'sit at a table brilliantly lighted and covered with precious wines, 
 bowls and goblets of crystal, rare China, silver and gold. The 
 master of the mansion relateth. 
 
 THE TALE OF THE BUCCANEER. 
 
 'TWAS in Sixteen hundred and twenty-eight 
 I left my native banks of Thames 
 Once more, and shipp'd as Pilot's mate 
 On board the ROYAL JAMES ; 
 Her crew were bold, the bark was stout, 
 At Plymouth she was fitting out, 
 Twelve demi culvcrins she bore 
 "With sakers at the stern and prore. 
 
 Our captain's name was MONTAGU, 
 A gallant heart and seaman true 
 As ever top-sail furl'd,
 
 THE TALE OF THE BUCCANEER. 
 
 In youth with CAVEXDISH and DEAKE 
 Hard blows he learned to give and take, 
 And twice sail'd round the world; 
 In manhood's prime he braved the pride 
 Of Spain, where Plata's troubled tide 
 "With rushing billows breasts the main, 
 And now once more he sought to gain 
 Renown upon the western wave. 
 Brave heart, he found a grave 
 Some said that he was harsh and rude, 
 Psha ! 'twas an antient seaman's mood : 
 Let the soft courtier trim his phrase 
 For perfumed halls and sunny days, 
 There's scanty time for silken words 
 'Midst falling masts, and clashing swords, 
 Or in a gale, when on the lee 
 The black rocks scatter the raging sea ; 
 St. George ! when I became their choice 
 They scarce were schooled with gentler voice. 
 On board the JAMES was a Preston lad 
 They always called him Lancashire MAY ; 
 Much clerkly lore men said he had,
 
 TILE TALE OF THE BTTCCANEEB. 
 
 Well could indite, had -wit at -will, 
 
 Made scurril jests, and then with skill 
 
 On the jovial viol could play; 
 
 He was a pale and delicate boy, 
 
 His widowed mother's joy 
 
 I 've heard a dark-robed priest declare 
 
 That nothing upon earth was worse 
 
 Than a bereaved mother's curse : 
 
 But then how came the stripling there ? 
 
 It was not I, 'twas fate who gave 
 
 That boy an ocean grave. 
 
 I know not why but he hated me, 
 Perchance 'twas for some blow or two 
 I gave to make the idler do 
 His duty steadily ; 
 
 But ever, when his friends were there, 
 He'd call me Iron-heart and Bear ? 
 And then with many a trick and mock, 
 Made me my shipmate's laughing stock, 
 Till my very dreams embitter' d were
 
 THE TALE OF THE BUCCANEER. 
 
 By the biting jests which Lancashire MAY 
 Did madden me with the live long day. 
 
 Yet when I had a cruel fall 
 
 From the fore top, he did recall 
 
 His jeers and taunts ; and as I lay 
 
 Maimed in my hammock, day by day 
 
 "With tales he would beguile the hour 
 
 Or on his viol play, 
 
 And dress my hurts, and bring me store 
 
 Of dainties when he went ashore ; 
 
 And if my brow should lour, 
 
 "NVith many a gentle trick and wile 
 
 He won me back to smile. 
 
 He said I should regard as air 
 
 The idle boyish fooleries 
 
 At which my anger used to rise, 
 
 For many others did not care 
 
 Whom yet he less did spare. 
 
 But it was all hypocrisy, 
 
 His kindness feigned, his word a lie, 
 
 At least I think I hope they were, 
 
 Yes yes they must have been for when
 
 THE TALE OF THE BUCCAXEEB. 
 
 I to my duty came, again 
 
 The wretched stripling made me bear 
 
 His cutting wit, which never slept, 
 
 Yet once, when I had checked a joke 
 
 And spoilt his laughter with a stroke, 
 
 He look'd at me, no word he spoke, 
 
 But turn'd away and wept. 
 
 'Twas cursed seeming for from thence 
 
 From watch to watch, from night to morn, 
 
 He ever found some new pretence 
 
 For laughing me to scorn. 
 
 Oft with my rough rope-harden'd hand 
 
 I had crush' d him where he jeering stood, 
 
 But by him all his mates would stand, 
 
 For he by his viol and fooleries 
 
 Gain'd favour in their silly eyes, 
 
 And they stay'd my angry mood : 
 
 They said he was a stripling still, 
 
 And fatherless a sickly lad ; 
 
 'Twas false ! it was the cursed skill 
 
 To jibe until he drove me mad, 
 
 Till black mists o'er my eye-sight came 
 
 And my blood ran hot as liquid flame,
 
 THE TALE OF THE BUCCAJJEEB. 
 
 That won their gracious will ; 
 
 They put him on to do what fain 
 
 Themselves had done, hut that they fear'd ; 
 
 The traitors ! they as soon had dared 
 
 To pluck a lion's mane. 
 
 The ship was ready we sailed away, 
 
 All high in hope, in spirit gay, 
 
 Bound for the Spanish main ; 
 
 Thence to the coast of rich Peru, 
 
 A gallant ship and dauntless crew, 
 
 Glory and wealth to gain. 
 
 The anchor weighed, the Sound well cleared, 
 
 Greetings from hattlement and pier 
 
 Return' d with many a hearty cheer, 
 
 Before the wind we steer' d, 
 
 And look'd on England's coast as men 
 
 Who ne'er might visit it again : 
 
 Some eyes were wet, some hearts were sad, 
 
 Not mine I bless'd the freshening breeze 
 
 That bore us towards skies and seas 
 
 Bright as the precious ore that shines 
 
 In rich Potosi's glorious mines ; 
 
 My very soul was glad.
 
 THE TALE OF THE BUCCANEER. 
 
 Our good ship saiTd as merrily 
 
 As ever deer leap'd o'er the lea, 
 
 The waves she scatter'd with her prore 
 
 Again beneath her stern did roar, 
 
 And follow'd us as if in play 
 
 Upon our watery way. 
 
 Headland and cape we pass'd, and now 
 
 The Lizard on our starboard bow 
 
 Loom'd dimly through the scud : 
 
 For at evening o'er the hard blue sky 
 
 The dark clouds mustered rapidly, 
 
 And to his rest the sun went down, 
 
 Beneath the gathering tempest's frown, 
 
 A blazing globe of blood. 
 
 Red was the gloomy west as where 
 
 Vast Cotopaxi fires the air, 
 
 While the purple waves heaved broad and still, 
 
 And there was not wind our sails to fill : 
 
 Then came light puffs, and then more loud 
 
 It whistled through the straining shroud, 
 
 Till, as we left the Lizard behind, 
 
 It blew a gale, east and by north, 
 
 If ever demons visit earth
 
 THE TALE OF THE BUCCAXEEB. 
 
 That hour they rode the wind : 
 For in the ship's wake all the night 
 There did play a ghastly light, 
 Whilst roaring and boiling half mast high 
 The giant hillows, thundering, 
 
 And hlacker than the raven's wing, 
 
 . 
 
 Came wildly rushing by. 
 
 Fearing to meet some ship at sea 
 
 That stormy night, they station' d me 
 
 (A curse upon the chance I say ! 
 
 It hath been my bane this many a day,) 
 
 To look through the drift for sails ahead : 
 
 On the spritsail yard I was stationed 
 
 At the larboard arm sat MAY. 
 
 Mayhap I might have drank too hard, 
 
 But then, the night was bitter cold, 
 
 For, as I sate upon the yard, 
 
 Wild as the waves that round us roll'd 
 
 Rush'd through my mind thoughts how to slay 
 
 That lad that Lancashire MAT. 
 
 The wind howl'd loud, and the sea roar'd by, 
 Ha ! but my grasp was more fierce and rude
 
 10 THE TALE OF THE BTTCCAUEEB. 
 
 Than the cutting blast or the boiling flood ! 
 
 The fiends who sail'd through the troubled sky 
 
 Laugh'd as I tore the ropes away 
 
 From the desperate clutch of MAT ; 
 
 For mercy he did pray and yell, 
 
 But his voice was lost in the rushing blast, 
 
 He might have pray'd to that as well, 
 
 For I smote his head till his hands let go 
 
 His body flash' d in the foam below 
 
 The good ship over him pass'd. 
 
 When he was gone I laugh' d outright, 
 
 But, by the sword I wear ! 
 
 My laugh was echoed strong and clear 
 
 Through the gloom and sleet of that wild night 
 
 Though not a soul was near : 
 
 Then a hot blast quivered o'er my face 
 
 And the storm was still' d for a moment's space ; 
 
 The blood went rushing to my heart 
 
 But mine was ne'er a coward's part, 
 
 So I cursed the laughers scornfully, 
 
 And again the gale came howling by. 
 
 'Twas well it did, for our ship roll'd hard 
 And sprang her foremast ; on the deck
 
 THE TALE OF THE BTTCCAraEB. 11 
 
 Down crashing came rope, block, and yard, 
 
 And that I live this tale to tell 
 
 Is little short of miracle, 
 
 For the bowsprit too was carried away, 
 
 And all hands deemed that Lancashire MAY 
 
 Had perished with the wreck. 
 
 As for me, I thought of the fool no more ; 
 The gale cleared up, fine breezes blew, 
 Before their breath our good ship flew 
 Skimming the waves like a brave sea-mew, 
 And ere we reach' d the golden shore 
 I say I thought of MAY no more ; 
 Save that at times some silly dreams 
 Would cross my sleep, as rain-fed streams 
 Pour down a rugged mountain's face 
 Of stormy nights, but leave no trace 
 By day-light of their race 
 But hah ! he thought of me, Aye there, 
 Glaring all ghastly at me now 
 He stands beside the black oak chair 
 Beneath yon archway's dusky brow : 
 What ! dost thou think my cheek is pale,
 
 12 THE TALE OF THE BUCCANEER. 
 
 Dost think my steady glance will quail 
 Because I smote a kind like thou ? 
 
 Away ! or else see, see it fades, 
 Tis ever thus he fears to try 
 The grapple of mine agony ; 
 Still he my desperate clutch evades, 
 But thus by wearying he would rule 
 A mind which scorns him utterly 
 Dead or alive Presumptuous fool ! 
 I slew him well his betters too 
 Have felt what this right hand can do. 
 
 But still I know not how or why 
 The cursed sprite hath mighty power 
 And mastery o'er my lonely hour ; 
 For when I see this MAY float by 
 Bloody and swoll'n, what time the bell 
 From the old church doth midnight tell, 
 And the chill blast comes whistling round 
 My bed, and wakes me with the sound,
 
 THE TALE OP THE BUCCANEER. 13 
 
 If then I meet his cold dead eye, 
 
 I cannot brave the dreary form 
 
 As when my blood with wine is warm, 
 
 As when the blessed day shines bright, 
 
 Or wassail wakes the night. 
 
 But to my tale more wine there, ho ! 
 
 And lights but not my mates d'ye see 
 
 That I do fear mine enemy, 
 
 But I love to see the Xeries flow, 
 
 And lights inspire jollity : 
 
 Then give us lights, and wine there, ho ! 
 
 The tale that I shall tell you now 
 
 Is true as e'er was seaman's vow 
 
 Given to a dying mate Aye true 
 
 As was a heart which once I knew, 
 
 Which once perchance was fire and death ! 
 
 I say my tale though wild is TETJE, 
 
 And he who questions it may rue 
 
 The licence given to his breath, 
 
 On this nor jest nor jibe I bear ; 
 
 Ye know me mark me and beware !
 
 14 THE TALE OF THE BTTCCAlfEEB. 
 
 You need not now be told how we 
 
 Cruized on those coasts for five rich years, 
 
 A crew of dauntless Buccaneers, 
 
 The terror of the Indian Sea ? 
 
 Nor how the ballast in our hold 
 
 Was cochineal and silk and gold ; 
 
 Nor need I say how toil and blows, 
 
 Given and borne by sea or land, 
 
 Whilst clearing decks with pike in hand, 
 
 Or plunging reckless amidst foes 
 
 When the black embrasure was won 
 
 While yet its own recoiling gun 
 
 Had shrouded it in smoke- wreaths dun, 
 
 Earn'd me the charge to which I rose : 
 
 But when the ROYAL JAMES did take 
 
 Close to the Porto Bello shore 
 
 The bark of war EL SALVADOR, 
 
 (We named her after DRAKE,) 
 
 Of that stout ship our gallant band 
 
 Assign'd me the command. 
 
 It was in June when days are fair 
 And nights are short, my cruizer lay
 
 THE TAU: OF THE BUCCAIfEEB. 15 
 
 Behind a sandy isle which there 
 
 They call a Key It was, I say 
 
 A sandy isle of herbage bare, 
 
 With scarce a weed, or stick, or stone, 
 
 To checquer with its shade the glare 
 
 That o'er the hot broad sand was thrown. 
 
 We waited for an Argosay, 
 
 Laden with quicksilver from Spain 
 
 And bound to Carthagena's bay, 
 
 Nor waited we in vain. 
 
 She came, but not alone, for fear 
 
 Had whispered of the Buccaneer, 
 
 And three stout galleys manned for fight 
 
 Hove with our destined prize in sight. 
 
 That day it chanced that I had gone 
 
 To wander on the Key, 
 
 Idly to pick up shell or stone, 
 
 Or yet more listlessly 
 
 To watch the white clouds float away, 
 
 Or listen to the dashing spray 
 
 Where the waves broke in a little bay; 
 
 I was left there alone.
 
 16 THE TALE OF THE BUCCANEEK. 
 
 The day was hot ; I slept, and then 
 I had a dream, I knew not what, 
 All was confused, the shouts of men 
 "Were mingled with the roar of shot, 
 And then the jeering laugh of MAY 
 Seem'd louder than the thick'ning fray, 
 Till the boatswain's pipe upon mine ear 
 Smote shrill, and strong, and clear. 
 I woke, I sprang upon my feet, 
 One glance ! 'twas death ! I saw the DEAKE 
 Light as the swallow on a lake 
 Hugging the wind, and in her wake 
 On drove the Spanish fleet. 
 
 I saw my fate, and one deep groan 
 
 Came in my own despite, 
 
 But an English heart was still my own, 
 
 And as I watch'd the fight, 
 
 And mark'd the flash of every gun 
 
 Whose smoke- wreath like a spreading plume 
 
 Roll'd crimson o'er the setting sun, 
 
 And saw the red cross flag on high,
 
 THE TALE OF THE BTTCCAJTEEB. 
 
 And heard my crew cheer gallantly, 
 
 I thought not of my doom. 
 
 But dim and dim the ships became, 
 
 And, as they bore away, 
 
 More faintly glanced the cannon's flame, 
 
 Like the expiring ray 
 
 Of a lone torch flash in the aisle 
 
 Of some cathedral's dusky pile, 
 
 Till all was lost in the thickening gloom 
 
 That spread around my sea-girt tomb. 
 
 The night came on, the breezes slept 
 
 Upon the silent sea, 
 
 The shadow of thick darkness crept 
 
 Dream-like o'er it and me. 
 
 The foamless billows rose and fell 
 
 Unbroken and invisible, 
 
 And there was scarce a sound to say 
 
 How near the still dark ocean lay. 
 
 Methought, but yet it could not be, 
 
 I heard a heavy deep-toned bell 
 
 Sound faint and far across the sea : 
 
 'Twas like a dead man's knell.
 
 18 THE TALE OF THE BTTCCANEEB. 
 
 'Twas strange that I at such a time 
 
 Should think upon my native clime 
 
 More than upon my fate, which seem'd 
 
 But as a thing of which I dream' d ; 
 
 Perchance it was, I cannot tell, 
 
 The fancied sound of that far bell ; 
 
 For just with such a tone the hour 
 
 Of prayer rang from mine own church tower, 
 
 "When its sweet solemn call was borne 
 
 On the still breath of sabbath morn 
 
 O'er sunny hill, and lake, and wood, 
 
 To those I since have learnt to scorn, 
 
 Yet once I thought them good-: 
 
 But so it was before my eyes, 
 
 In the silvery light which most adorns 
 
 The earliest of her autumn morns, 
 
 Came England's fields and skies. 
 
 In vain I struggled to control 
 
 The thoughts of other days, 
 
 Which glanced across my darken' d soul 
 
 As do the morning rays 
 
 That shew some sinking crew the beach 
 
 They've left no more to reach.
 
 THE TALE OF THE BTJCCAJfEEE. 19 
 
 At length, desponding and unmann'd, 
 I sank upon the soft warm sand, 
 And heard with silent agony 
 The surf that sadly murmur'd round, 
 Seeming with voice unceasingly 
 To say, and in the dreary sound 
 Was woe, and misery, and fear, 
 " Thy place and thy tomb are here." 
 
 Suddenly from the south there came 
 A little star of quivering flame 
 And floated on the waves : 
 It burnt a pale and ghastly white, 
 But faintly, as the meteor light 
 That glimmers above graves. 
 At first I thought that it might be 
 The lanthorn of some bark at sea, 
 And cursed the darkness of the night 
 That weigh' d like lead upon my sight. 
 But soon the star rose far too high, 
 And seem'd to swim in that ebon sky 
 Above the silent Key,
 
 20 THE TALE OF THE BUCCANEER. 
 
 My breath came thick, as with aching eye 
 
 I watch' d it eagerly. 
 
 As yet I fix' d on it my gaze 
 
 Around it spread a crimson haze, 
 
 And in the lurid glare it cast 
 
 Upon the desolate sand, 
 
 It seem'd as if dim figures past, 
 
 And one appeared to stand ; 
 
 A silent, dark, and shadowy thing, 
 
 Faint as the sea foam's wreath 
 
 That flies before the tempest's wing, 
 
 I said, " Can this be death?" 
 
 And look'd till on my dizzy ear 
 
 There came a wild laugh shrill and clear 
 
 As on that night of tempests when 
 
 I need not speak of it again 
 
 Then closed my eyes for very fear, 
 
 And as my face upon the ground 
 
 I press'd, I heard a heavy groan. 
 
 Methought I knew the dismal tone 
 
 But dared not look around ; 
 
 For it came from where that shadow stood 
 
 In its appalling solitude.
 
 THE TALE OF TIIE BCCCA.NEEB. 21 
 
 Had it but ta'en a form, I still 
 
 Had dared the worst, come good, come ill, 
 
 But 'twas the shapeless shade, 
 
 So dim, so silent, and so drear, 
 
 That on a heart unused to fear 
 
 With a deep horror weigh'd. 
 
 I own it then, I trembling lay 
 
 Till that dread night had pass'd away. 
 
 Oh how I bless' d the day ! 
 
 The morning dawn'd, but with it came 
 A sky that seem'd one sheet of flame, 
 Athwart whose burning lustre roll'd 
 Clouds black as midnight fring'd with gold. 
 There was not a breath to stir the sea 
 Or the lightest sand on that lone Key ; 
 The gossamers fell from the air 
 To earth, and lay unruffled there ; 
 Yet the dark swell heaved wild and high 
 Between me and the eastern sky, 
 "Where the sun swam in blood, 
 And cast a shadow deep as night
 
 22 THE TALE OF THE BUCCANEEB. 
 
 When moon and stars withhold their light 
 On the sea-beach where I stood. 
 
 At noon across the heavens spread 
 A stifling haze of dusky red, 
 Through which the sun glanced dim, 
 And whiter than the moon which gleams 
 In winter upon frozen streams, 
 While round its broken rim 
 Spread circle beyond circle pale 
 Portentous of the coming gale. 
 Then came the sea-birds sweeping by, 
 All screaming with affright ; 
 Oh how I wished, as they flew nigh, 
 To join their clamorous flight, 
 Though but to perish in the storm ; 
 'Twere better than the dreadful lot 
 Which bound me to that haunted spot 
 And that drear shadowy form. 
 Thicker and thicker came the birds 
 Clustering in their deep fear, 
 As do in Indian fields the herds 
 When a tiger's growl they hear ;
 
 THE TALE OF THE BTTCCAXEEE. 23 
 
 As if to mock them, flitting brave 
 The flying fish glanced o'er the wave, 
 But in their deep dismay 
 The sea-birds, fast as the thick air 
 Their wild despairing flight would bear, 
 Flew heedless of their prey ; 
 Regardless too of my lone Key 
 Though offering rest beneath the lee ; 
 Perchance they saw, though I could not, 
 All mustered on that dreary spot 
 Its awful company. 
 
 At length but I cannot declare 
 
 The horrors of that day, 
 
 And dreadful night of mad despair 
 
 I passed upon the Key ; 
 
 That day and night of mortal fear, 
 
 Which seem'd an age of agony, 
 
 Turn'd my black air to grey. 
 
 I wish'd, oh how I wish'd for death ! 
 
 And yet, whene'er my sobbing breath 
 
 Drew in the salt foam of the wave 
 
 That thunder' d on the sand,
 
 24 THE TALE OF THE BUCCANEER. 
 
 I felt as if there stretch'd to save 
 
 My life some giant hand ; 
 
 And when the hurricane to earth 
 
 My bruised frame would dash 
 
 Another gust, as if in mirth, 
 
 Lifted me till the wash 
 
 Of the salt sea just reach'd my lip, 
 
 And thus I seem'd condemned to sip 
 
 Slowly of death's drear cup, though I 
 
 Strove, as for life, that I might die. 
 
 Twice when a vaster billow came, 
 Like a hill of molten lead 
 With a gleaming fringe of silver flame, 
 High, high above my head, 
 I rush'd to meet it, but in vain, 
 It flung me on the shore again, 
 And left me gasping, worn, yet still 
 Alive to misery and ill. 
 
 At last, exhausted by the strife, 
 I struggled not for death or life ;
 
 THE TALE OF THE BTTCCANEEK. 25 
 
 A thousand lights before my eyes 
 
 Danced in their fiery phantasies, 
 
 A thousand sounds rung in mine ear, 
 
 And the earth seem'd reeling here and there : 
 
 Faint, dizzy, prostrate on the ground, 
 
 Yet dimly conscious, like to one 
 
 Who knows while in a speechless swound 
 
 The things around him done, 
 
 I lay and gazed upon the sea, 
 
 And there beheld, or dreamed I saw, 
 
 A sight surpassing nature's law, 
 
 But yet so spent and worn I was, 
 
 So heedless what might come to pass, 
 
 It scarce surprised me. 
 
 As oft as the broad lightning flung 
 
 Its banner to the blast, 
 
 And the huge waves which o'er me hung 
 
 A blacker shadow cast, 
 
 Ever I saw a little boat, 
 
 Where for an instant's space 
 
 No human bark could hope to float, 
 
 Steer' d full against the furious storm,
 
 26 THE TALE OF THE BTJCCAIfEEB. 
 
 And full against the wave's fierce race, 
 
 By a strange ghastly form : 
 
 A lamp stood by the single mast, 
 
 Whose pale sepulchral flame 
 
 Waver' d not when the wild squalls passed 
 
 Though thunder-like they came, 
 
 But calmly gleamed upon that drear 
 
 And awful being, who seemed to wear 
 
 The wrappings of the tomb. 
 
 Full on the corpse-like face, as bright 
 
 And cold as moon-beams, stream'd the light 
 
 While all around was gloom ; 
 
 At length out-worn I swoon'd away, 
 
 But as my last dim glance I turn'd 
 
 To where that magic lustre burn'd 
 
 The steersman looked at me 'twas MAY. 
 
 'Twas the third night, and fair and free 
 The gentle moonbeams kissed the sea, 
 And through the moonlight rich and clear 
 That gilt the tropic atmosphere 
 The stars glanced glimmeringly.
 
 THE TALE OF THE BUCCANEER. 27 
 
 No surf broke on the glittering sand, 
 No breeze was on the wave, 
 All was as bright as fairy land, 
 The sky, the sea, the moonlight strand, 
 But silent as the grave. 
 The Key was in the moonlight's glow 
 As white as newly fallen snow ; 
 The beach like very silver shone, 
 The sea-bird, floating on the tide 
 And dancing with the ripple's curl, 
 The Nautilus that past did glide, 
 Look'd fair as oriental pearl ; 
 My heart was dark alone. 
 
 I started up, I could not bear 
 The quiet night and tranquil air : 
 "Whilst struggling with the storm my fate 
 Appeared less drear, less desolate ; 
 Against the elemental strife 
 I fought, as with a foe, for life ; 
 But now I felt my spirit yield 
 As may the victor's on a field
 
 28 THE TALE OF THE BUCCANEER. 
 
 When war's excitement, all has gone, 
 
 Leaving him weary, sad, and lone. 
 
 But I had more my frame to wear, 
 
 Hunger and thirst with all their pangs 
 
 Deep in my breast had fixed their fangs, 
 
 Though they were light to my despair. 
 
 I rushed towards the placid sea 
 
 To terminate my agony, 
 
 And find beneath its sleeping wave 
 
 By one bold plunge a grave. 
 
 I paused, 'twas with no human fear, 
 
 But, by the blessed light of day ! 
 
 I saw beneath the moonshine clear 
 
 Gliding across the glassy sea, 
 
 Silent and dim, and rapidly 
 
 As the scud which rolls before the blast 
 
 When heels the ship and bends the mast, 
 
 The ghastly form of MAY. 
 
 I rubb'd my eyes, and strove in vain 
 To think 'twas a distempered brain 
 That trick'd with forms my weaken'd sight, 
 Both now and on the bygone night ;
 
 THE TALE OF THE BUCCANEER. 29 
 
 I tried a rude sea rhyme to sing, 
 
 And though I strove for hardihood 
 
 Yet still I felt, aye heard, my blood 
 
 Rush through my veins in an icy flood, 
 
 "Whilst my throat and lips were parched and dry 
 
 As his at the stake when the flames rise high. 
 
 Had a sea-gull brush' d me with his wing 
 
 I had fallen on the shining sand, 
 
 For I trembled so I scarce could stand. 
 
 At length so nigh the spirit came 
 
 Desperate I hail'd him by his name, 
 
 With the seaman's wont, "What cheer there, Ho ! 
 
 Then MAY look'd at me drearily, 
 
 "With lustreless and glassy eye, 
 
 And pointed to the sea below. 
 
 I was not one whom he could brave, 
 
 Although he dared me to a grave 
 
 A grave ! 'twas what I sought, but I 
 
 Xow mark my tale I could not die. 
 
 I plunged, but not one stifled breath 
 
 Gave warning of the coming death ;
 
 30 THE TALE OF THE BITCCANEEB. 
 
 Ko gasp, no struggle, but as clear 
 And calm my respirations were, 
 My eye as true, my limbs as free, 
 As if on some green hill I stood, 
 Or in the breezy solitude 
 Of my own native lea. 
 
 I plunged, we sank the moonlight sea 
 
 To those cold coral groves and caves 
 
 A thousand fathoms 'neath its waves, 
 
 Through which I felt strange power to glide 
 
 After my dim and awful guide. 
 
 Onward we went, I know not how, 
 
 Amongst the vallies of the deep 
 
 Where motionless the waters sleep 
 
 Though far above tornado's blow. 
 
 And down in those strange realms below 
 
 The light came very pale, but clear 
 
 As through an emerald atmosphere, 
 
 Or as the dawn of a winter's day ; 
 
 And shadows rose and passed away 
 
 Of many a shapeless thing which glides
 
 THE TALE OF THE BUCCANEER. 31 
 
 Beneath the mystic ocean's tides 
 Seeking its destined prey. 
 
 And mighty weeds like forest oaks 
 Far, far and wide, their branches spread, 
 Clasping, with slimy roots, the rocks 
 Of snowy coral and of red ; 
 While shells of every lovely hue 
 "Were clustered on each mighty bough, 
 The fruit and flowers they which grow 
 Beneath the ocean blue. 
 The purple grape's imperial dye, 
 The cherry's red, the apple's green, 
 Profusely mixed, and bright between 
 Grew corallines, whose tints might vie 
 "With any that on earth are seen ; 
 The rich geranium's scarlet glare, - 
 Rose, tulip, and carnation rare, 
 Mingled in bright confusion there. 
 But still the wavering light was cold, 
 For faintly came the moonshine fair 
 Through the green sea that o'er us rolled ;
 
 32 THE TALE OF THE BUCCAXEEE. 
 
 To me its chill and pallid beams 
 Seem'd like the sunlight of our dreams. 
 
 Nor lack'd that forest living things 
 Wild in its sunless depths to roam, 
 I heard the sea-snake's thunderings, 
 As crashing through the boughs he came, 
 And met his eye of flame ; 
 There too the baleful cuttle's home 
 Is marked with wrecks of barks which he 
 Hath seized and dragged down suddenly, 
 When not a ripple stirs the sea 
 And the ship's track leaves no foam. 
 Wide waved his thousand arms and high 
 As I and my ghastly guide drew nigh, 
 But when we nearer came they sunk, 
 And floated round the shapeless trunk 
 Like giant sea- weeds, many a rood 
 Slow undulating on the flood. 
 And still across our fearful path 
 Came many a grim yet shapeless form 
 Like clouds of a dispersing storm, 
 And seem'd to glare on me in wrath,
 
 THE TALE OF THE BT7CCANEEB. 33 
 
 But ever as they look'd on MAY 
 
 With shuddering haste they shot away. 
 
 On, on we glided, smooth as snow 
 
 Slides from some hoary iceberg's brow. 
 
 Sometimes we settled down as deep 
 
 As ever in a fevered sleep 
 
 A dreamer seemed to fall, 
 
 And then through vast and solemn caves, 
 
 Each one a whirlpool's sounding hall 
 
 Hollowed and columned by its waves, 
 
 And lighted by that phosphor gleam 
 
 With which the midnight breakers stream, 
 
 We swept like thought. From thence again 
 
 Uprising buoyantly so high 
 
 That I heard the murmur of the main, 
 
 Could hear the Petrel's quick shrill cry, 
 
 Aye, see him dip to clutch his prey ; 
 
 But he marked us with his glittering eye, 
 
 And screaming fled away. 
 
 But most of all 'twas strange to view, 
 And 'tis a proof that I was sane,
 
 34 THE TALE OF THE BUCCANEEK. 
 
 And not distempered in my brain, 
 Which oft my comrades would maintain 
 Until I almost thought 'twas true ; 
 I say 'twas strange to see the shade 
 Of many a gallant vessel bent 
 Upon a voyage of war or trade, 
 As on her way she went. 
 At first in moonlight's silver gleam 
 They pass'd like clouds across a stream, 
 But as the day broke broad and clear 
 And filled with light earth, sea, and air 
 I saw them, floating as it were, 
 Far off, a thousand fathoms high 
 In a crystalline and sunny sky, 
 Aye, rigg'd in all their bravery ; 
 I marked some well from keel to vane, 
 And since I've met with them again ; 
 One lies at Sandwich, she they call 
 The old St. George, a caraval ; 
 Then she was on a voyage, men say 
 Beyond the Naze of Noroway.
 
 THE TALE OF THE BUCCANEER. 35 
 
 At length from out the deep we came, 
 
 MAY gliding ghastly on before, 
 
 Ice, snow, and icebergs formed the shore, 
 
 Above, the heavens were all aflame, 
 
 For o'er the black but starry sky 
 
 The northern lights streamed gloriously, 
 
 Flickering upon that world of snow 
 
 "Which lay so dead below. 
 
 Fountains of fire, they sparkled on, 
 Flooding the darkness with a tide 
 Of amethystine light, then changed, 
 And burning pennons glitter 'd wide 
 Beneath the stars Anon they ranged 
 In diamond showers, while arch, and zone, 
 And blazing swords, seemed flashing bright 
 Through the startled depths of the polar night, 
 Then soft as summer twilight died. 
 
 And still we glided on around 
 Lay many a frozen lake and hill, 
 Where time had passed without a sound 
 To wake the echoes dead and chill,
 
 36 THE TALE OF THE BUCCANEER. 
 
 Or stir the thick and icy air 
 
 Which silently stagnated there. 
 
 Onwards we passed 'midst giant waves 
 
 Fixed hy interminable frost, 
 
 Or scooped into fantastic caves, 
 
 Or tossed in peaks, with summits lost 
 
 In the shifting light of that dazzling heaven, 
 
 And some appear' d by lightning riven, 
 
 The ruins of a shatter' d world 
 
 Down from some sunless system hurled. 
 
 So loose the ice rocks hung, a breath 
 
 Had dashed them on the mass beneath, 
 
 But we glided by like a voiceless blast 
 
 And the crags but wavered as we passed. 
 
 At length my dreary guide stood still, 
 
 And then I heard that whistle shrill, 
 
 Though very faint and low, 
 
 With which the hardy boatswain calls 
 
 All hands on deck for sudden squalls 
 
 Or dangers on the bow : 
 
 I heard it faintly answered then 
 
 From every icy dell and glen,
 
 THE TALE OF THE BUCCAXEEB. 37 
 
 From every ice-cleft gaping wide, 
 
 From every iceberg's glimmering side, 
 
 From every frozen cavern's mouth, 
 
 From east, from west, from north from south, 
 
 Sprang horrid forms, dry bones and bare 
 
 That rattled in the icy air ; 
 
 Until at length around me spread 
 
 A multitude of hideous things, 
 
 Xow seen, now lost, in light or shade, 
 
 As bright or dim the glimmerings 
 
 Of the fantastic north-lights played, 
 
 The fleshless tombless dead. 
 
 I know not how, but as they stood 
 I felt that each grim skeleton 
 Was unannealed from murder done, 
 Had spilt a messmate's blood ; 
 And this the place of penalty 
 For them, perhaps doom'd to be for me. 
 Danger from man I feared as one, 
 Who dwells in Lapland fears the sun : 
 I've stood unshrinking on a wreck, 
 Till plank by plank the bursting deck
 
 38 THE TALE OF THE BUCCANEER. 
 
 Hath parted from beneath my feet ; 
 
 I've stood unmoved amidst the sleet 
 
 Of poisoned arrows in the shade 
 
 Of the fierce Carib's ambuscade ; 
 
 I've braved the Arab's fiery zeal, 
 
 The Indian's club, the Spaniard's steel, 
 
 And a more deadly trial still 
 
 Where met the might of this fierce land 
 
 English with English, hand to hand, 
 
 At ^ASEBY'S bloody hill : 
 
 I say, 'midst living foes I've stood 
 
 Unshaken, as you know full well, 
 
 As is the Mew-stone by the swell 
 
 Of the Atlantic's flood; 
 
 But those wild forms that waver'd there 
 
 Beneath the north-light's flickering glare, 
 
 Those were no things of mortal mould ; 
 
 They were gaunt bones, all stiff and cold, 
 
 Yellow and stained as with charnel mould, 
 
 And they grinned upon me where we met 
 
 "With eyeless sculls I see them yet.
 
 THE TALE OP THE BUCCANEEB. 
 
 'Twas but a moment, then I mann'd 
 
 My heart to face the grisly band ; 
 
 And with that hardihood that still 
 
 Had borne me on, as doth the bark 
 
 In sunny calm or tempest dark 
 
 Bear her rich freight through good and ill, 
 
 Half daring, half in my despair 
 
 I spoke, while every word I said 
 
 Seem'd to fall out on that still air 
 
 As heavily as lead : 
 
 My mates, if living man may be 
 
 Mate to this ghastly company, 
 
 It is the wont of seamen true 
 
 When in some distant land 
 
 A shipmate old, or comrade new, 
 
 Is added to their band, 
 
 Ever, with what carouse and cheer 
 
 The ship can best afford, 
 
 The bravest wine, the daintiest fare, 
 
 To welcome him on board ; 
 
 Have ye no demon revelry 
 
 To greet a messmate true like me ?
 
 40 THE TALK OF THE BTTCCAITEEE. 
 
 I starve and were you hell's worst brood 
 
 I'd join your crew for food. 
 
 I paused, and then from those gaunt bones 
 
 Awoke a dreary wail, 
 
 Like to a rising tempest's moans 
 
 Through block and shroud and sail, 
 
 Mingled, it seemed, with dying groans : 
 
 It was to give me hail. 
 
 Then sudden rose, and yet I know 
 Not how, from out the silvery snow, 
 A flower-wreath'd and gilded board 
 With garnitures of rare device, 
 Dainties, and richest wine of price, 
 Delicious fruits and rare, piled up 
 In many a gold and crystal cup, 
 And luscious viands stored : 
 I rush'd as famish'd wolves they say, 
 Or hungry sharks dash on their prey, 
 When quick as passing light 
 All vanish' d, and instead there lay 
 Upon a bier the corpse of MAY 
 To blast my aching sight.
 
 THE TALE OF THE BUCCAXEER. 41 
 
 There lay the body by its side, 
 
 Staring on me with glittering eye, 
 
 "Where yet was death's drear vacancy, 
 
 Stood up my ghastly guide. 
 
 I look'd around, and would have given 
 
 My hopes such hopes as mine of Heaven, 
 
 To see about me those grim forms 
 
 Who my drear welcome gave 
 
 To that dark land of fear and storms, 
 
 Though tenants of the grave : 
 
 But they had vanish' d, and alone 
 
 I stood by these two horrid things, 
 
 Worse than fear's worst imaginings ; 
 
 I seem'd to turn to stone. 
 
 Anon the spirit vanish' d too, 
 
 And then uprose the dead, 
 
 All stark, and gaunt, and stiff to view, 
 
 With flesh and lips of livid blue, 
 
 And swollen hands, and starting eyes 
 
 That flash' d beneath the flashing skies ; 
 
 He look'd a man of lead.
 
 42 THE TALE OF THE BUCCANEEB. 
 
 He came towards me, and with drear 
 
 But well-remember' d voice 
 
 Said, " Messmate, once again what cheer, 
 
 " Does Iron-heart rejoice 
 
 " To see so old and proved a Mend 
 
 " Whose friendship now will scarcely end 
 
 " For like thy shadow, from your side 
 
 " Inseparable will I glide : 
 
 " In thy stout ship, in bower, in hall, 
 
 " In battle, or in festival, 
 
 " Be sure that I am near; 
 
 " Alike when night-storms are abroad 
 
 " Or mid-day sunshine lights thy road, 
 
 " By eve as by daylight clear." 
 
 He spoke, and twice I strove to gain 
 My hardihood of heart ; 
 Twice I essay'd reply in vain, 
 My parch' d lips would not part ; 
 Famine had clung me, and that drear 
 Communion with the dead, 
 I know not what it was, but fear 
 O'ercame me then as MAY drew near
 
 THE TALE OF THE BUCCANEER. 43 
 
 I turn'd away and fled. 
 
 I fled in vain, not e'en despair 
 
 Might strengthen limbs thus numb and worn, 
 
 Or raise a spirit so forlorn ; 
 
 My feeble steps could scarcely bear 
 
 Me onward, and as through the snow 
 
 I stagger' d tottering, and slow, 
 
 It seemed to me as if around 
 
 Each foot an iron chain was bound ; 
 
 Yet how I wish'd to fly, for then 
 
 Arose a rushing noise as when 
 
 In some lone vale the fitful breeze 
 
 Of winter sighs through leafless trees ; 
 
 I felt myself to be pursued 
 
 By all that fearful multitude, 
 
 While nearer still one footstep fell 
 
 In the crisp snow, I knew it well ; 
 
 I knew it to his promise tied 
 
 I felt that HE was by my side. 
 
 And since that hour, where'er I move 
 
 On the plank' d deck, or grassy hill, 
 
 In festal hall, or lonely grove,
 
 44 THE TALE OF THE BTTCCANEER. 
 
 To mine sounds full, and strong, and clear, 
 
 Though to no other living ear, 
 
 That fatal footstep still. 
 
 At last I felt the struggle vain, 
 
 My eyes grew dark, fail'd heart and limb, 
 
 Around me all things seem'd to swim, 
 
 While dizzy noises fill'd my brain ; 
 
 But I had gain'd the green-sea's shore, 
 
 I heard the breakers lash the strand, 
 
 And hoped to rise in life no more 
 
 As I sank upon the sand. 
 
 I woke to sense and could it be, 
 Or was it some strange fantasy ? 
 I was in mine own ship once more, 
 Around I heard the billows pour, 
 And plash and gurgle 'gainst her side 
 A.s the bold vessel cleft the tide : 
 And near about my hammock stood, 
 Friends, rude indeed, but true as rude ; 
 My own brave band, who ne'er hung back 
 When my keen sword pointed the way 
 To glory, vengeance, or a prey,
 
 THE TALE OF THE BTTCCAXEER. 45 
 
 Tho' death glared on the bloody track. 
 Once, once again, my ear could catch 
 The footsteps of the wakeful watch 
 Pacing the planks above my head, 
 Oh there was that in their firm tread 
 A sense of human neighbourhood, 
 "Which warm'd to life my frozen blood ! 
 
 Soon told my gallant crew their tale ; 
 They had maintained a running fight 
 Against the Spaniard through that night 
 And the next day ; then came the gale, 
 The fierce breath of the hurricane 
 That scattered far the fleet of Spain, 
 While shattered mast and riven sail 
 Detain' d the DRAKE, as to search for me 
 They beat towards that lonely Key. 
 Six days pass'd by, they scarcely dared 
 To hope that I was living, when 
 They anchor* d by its shores again ; 
 And when they found me they despair 5 d ; 
 For I was gaunt, and pale, and wan, 
 And feebler than a dying child,
 
 46 THE TALE OP THE BUCCAXEEB. 
 
 A skeleton and not a man, 
 Yet with mine eye-balls glaring mid, 
 And raving, 'neath the burning sun, 
 Of fearful things I had seen afar 
 By the chill light of the polar star, 
 And deeds by dead men done. 
 
 Days, weeks, pass'd by, and very slow 
 
 Came back my life-blood's healthful flow, 
 
 And still did I relapse and rave 
 
 Of my wild voyage beneath the wave 
 
 By many a coral precipice, 
 
 And of that silent realm of ice, 
 
 Its fiery sky and frozen air 
 
 And the ghastly forms that muster'd there : 
 
 But as I spoke my comrades still 
 
 Soothed me with kindness and good will, 
 
 And ever strove to make me deem 
 
 The whole was but a frightful dream, 
 
 Born of my sufferings, they said, 
 
 Of horrid thirst, and hunger keen, 
 
 And burning sunshine on my head ;
 
 THE TALE OF THE BFCCAJTEEB. 47 
 
 Nor would believe that I had seen 
 The shadowy terrific land 
 Where the dry bones walk hand in hand, 
 And I was mocked at by the dead. 
 
 Long did they reason, till I too 
 
 Began to think their reasonings true. 
 
 I strove, nor always strove in vain, 
 
 To deem 'twas but an o'erwrought brain, 
 
 And utter solitude, and pain, 
 
 That conjured up each frightful scene 
 
 In which, unnatural and drear, 
 
 Yet for a dream how hideous clear, 
 
 I had an actor been. 
 
 At last I re-assumed my stand 
 Upon the deck, and my command. 
 Oh ! it was bliss once more to see 
 The emerald waves so fresh and free ; 
 Again to watch the snowy sail 
 Distended by the tropic gale ; 
 To mark the hardy Albacore 
 Swim stoutly by the plunging prore,
 
 48 THE TALE OF THE BtJCCANEEE. 
 
 Or out the wave upspringing high 
 Startle the sea-gull soaring nigh, 
 While from each billow's foaming curl 
 Forth rushed the winged fish, and flew 
 Beneath the tropic sky's deep blue 
 In clouds of living pearl. 
 
 To muster Ho ! the chief commands, 
 
 Boatswain, to muster pipe all hands : 
 
 Quick through the ship the summons rung, 
 
 As quick my hardy seamen sprung 
 
 From top, from hatchway, and from shroud, 
 
 And as I heard them trample loud 
 
 Upon the deck, and saw those forms 
 
 Inured to battles and to storms, 
 
 I felt my heart was proud. 
 
 A hundred thirty thirty-two, 
 
 All hands are here, the tally's true. 
 
 But hold who sits as if on guard 
 
 Far out upon the spritsail yard ? 
 
 I've seen such things when with the night 
 
 Came the dark channel-fog and sleet, 
 
 And we might fear some ship to meet ;
 
 THE TALE OP THE BUCCANEER. 49 
 
 But here, the tropic noon is bright, 
 And from the topmast head no sail 
 Glances beneath the sunbeams pale ; 
 Xo rock, no island is in sight 
 "Within the clear horizon's range, 
 Xor sits he as with line and grange 
 Though the Bonita shoal just now 
 "Were sporting underneath our bow 
 You see him not ? 'tis very strange 
 You see him not ? can none but me 
 That solitary figure see ? 
 
 Less resolute my footstep fell 
 
 As moving to the forecastle 
 
 I near'd that seaman ; I who ne'er 
 
 Of mortal man knew awe or fear 
 
 Felt my blood thrill, my spirit quailed, 
 
 Till in despite and very shame 
 
 To find my heart so cowed, so tame, 
 
 That form upon the yard I hail'd. 
 
 Silent it turn'd to me, and there, 
 
 Full in the tropic sun's white ray,
 
 50 THE TALE OF THE BUCCANEER. 
 
 That dazzled with its mid-day glare 
 In that resplendent atmosphere, 
 More palpable than when at first 
 Upon my shrinking sight he burst, 
 By hell's dark depths sat MAY ! 
 
 And since that hour from time to time, 
 Alike in morning's sunny prime, 
 As when the stars look forth from high, 
 Or night-clouds curtain in the sky ; 
 Alike when spring makes fair the fields 
 In summer, or when autumn yields 
 Its glorious fruits and golden grain, 
 Cumbering the farmer's massive wain, 
 As when the blast of winter raves 
 O'er groaning woods and frozen waves, 
 This sprite will steal on me, and glare 
 Into mine eyes with lifeless stare, 
 Yet with a horrid meaning there 
 That seems to check the vital flood 
 And turn to very ice my blood. 
 "Wine, wine alone, and wassail free.
 
 THE TALE OF THE BUCCANEER. 51 
 
 The flowing cup, the blaze of light, 
 That dazzles the dim eye of night, 
 Revel, and song, and jollity, 
 And stout companions by my side, 
 Arm me these visits to abide : 
 Arm me to gaze, as I do now, 
 Steadily on his lifeless brow 
 For there he stands, unseen by all 
 But me, beside yon casement tall, 
 Through which the setting moonbeams cast 
 A light, while o'er the ancient glass 
 The shadows of the dark trees pass 
 As they bend beneath the blast. 
 
 And now, my mates, you know why I 
 
 Do hate to sit in this old hall 
 
 Alone, while dreary winds moan by, 
 
 And the dull rain-drops patteringly 
 
 Against the casement fall ; 
 
 Or wander through its deep woods when 
 
 Autumn's hoarse breezes sweep the glen,
 
 52 THE TALE OF THE BUCC.VXEEE. 
 
 Stripping the red trees with their breath, 
 And rattling the seer leaves beneath. 
 To-morrow sees me quit once more 
 The haunted quiet of the shore, 
 Sees me again give to the gale 
 My pennant and my flowing sail, 
 And seek midst tempests, and in strife, 
 llelief from those drear visitings 
 Which every lonely moment brings 
 Until I loath my life. 
 The flag of Holland braves the breeze 
 Presumptuous in the narrow seas, 
 While English hearts, from near and far, 
 The bold Protector's call obey, 
 And gather in their proud array 
 To dare the ocean war. 
 There, where the battle-tempest pours 
 Its iron rain, the broadside's flash 
 Is answer'd by the deaf'ning crash 
 Of reeling ships, while darkly lours 
 On the calmed deep the stifling cloud 
 That wraps the combat in its shroud ;
 
 THE TALE OF THE BITCCAXEER. 53 
 
 There, in the soul-absorbing game 
 Whose stake is life, whose prize is fame, 
 Where every mortal energy 
 Is task'd to bravely live or die, 
 I may a stormy respite find 
 From that which harasses my mind, 
 And in the whirlwind of the fight 
 Forget this hateful spright. 
 
 He went he fiercely fought and fell 
 At that great battle when the swell 
 Of the green channel turned to red, 
 And broke in blood off Portland Head ; 
 When the "Batavian's banner sunk 
 Beneath the fiery charge of MONK, 
 And victory followed in the wake 
 Of thy bold fleet, heroic BLAKE. 
 He fell and scarce a moment's space 
 He found to frame one prayer for grace ; 
 But those on board did say, 
 That when beneath the shattered mast
 
 54 THE XAIE OF THE BUCCANEER. 
 
 He lay, while from his mangled side 
 The life-blood pour'd its crimson tide, 
 He murmur'd, as his spirit pass'd, 
 " Take, take that cold dead hand away ; 
 " He grasps my throat, 'tis MAY."
 
 A BOTTLE OF RED INK.
 
 A BOTTLE OF RED IXK. 
 
 "We have heard of the victims of pleasure, of love, of 
 glory, of ambition ; men have fallen by open violence, 
 and by the secret assassin; some have cast off this 
 world, and periled their chance of a better, -with the 
 assistance of a bottle of laudanum ; but good heavens ! 
 will it be believed I was cut off in the spring of my 
 daj's, when the charms of life were all upon the surface 
 of its current, and I knew not of the poisoned weeds 
 and loathsome things that lurked below ; I was cut off, 
 I say, in the green and sunny period of my existence, 
 by how shall I state a fact so ludicrous in sound, so 
 terrible in reality by A Bottle of Red Ink ! 
 
 A man who has died in a certain way may fairly 
 assume the privilege of styling himself the late unfor- 
 tunate Mr. So-and-so ; the fact of his decease is a matter 
 of historical notoriety, which can usually be attested by 
 some thousands of reputable witnesses. I then, gentle
 
 A BOTTLE OF RED INK. 57 
 
 reader, am the late unfortunate Mr. Rudiger Holstein, 
 who ceased to exist at Gottingcn, on the 24th of January, 
 1803. You may imagine, probably, that you are now 
 perusing the lucubrations of a disembodied spirit, that 
 my periods smell of the grave, and my phraseology 
 smacks of the charnel-house ; but, courteous reader, of 
 my true history entertain no such absurd notion. Little 
 have the dead to do with autobiography; for though 
 occasionally the subjects of very brilliant memoirs in 
 two volumes quarto, the worms, to whose appetite they 
 administer are certainly not bookworms, neither do they 
 personally enlighten mankind, beyond the meteor or 
 two which exhales from their coffin to ignite in the dull 
 atmosphere stagnating round the tomb. You are not, 
 therefore, gentle, or ungentle, reader, throwing away 
 your valuable time and attention on the history of a 
 ghost, written by himself. No, in spite of my untimely 
 end, here I sit alive and in perfect contentment this 
 present llth day of September, 1830, in my neat blue 
 parlour which overlooks the tranquil Hudson, and the 
 pleasant little village of New Harton. From my bay 
 window, whose light is chequered by waving honey- 
 suckle and clematis, while they fling their delicious
 
 58 A BOTTLE OF EED INK. 
 
 fragrance through its open panes, I gaze on a charming 
 landscape ruddy with the glories of an early American 
 autumn. The balmy air of the sunny afternoon brings 
 from afar the sweetest sounds that can be associated with 
 rural scenery : the tinkle of the sheep-bell, the low of 
 cattle, the murmur of the distant water-mill, the cheerful 
 jingle which accompanies the passing team, and now and 
 then the remote sound of the clanking hammer from the 
 village smithy. But, dearer to a father's heart, there is 
 the cheerful laugh, the merry shout of my bright-eyed 
 children as they chase the shaggy and sagacious Bronte 
 round the rose bushes of my trim garden. My wife, 
 with " Anne of Geierstein," our last arrival, in her hand, 
 watches the cradled sleep of my latest born, while I 
 assume my pen, to record the most distressing event of 
 my life ; as distressing, indeed, as aught could be unac- 
 companied by dishonour. I allude, of course, to the 
 disagreeable accident at which I have already hinted. 
 It is a weakness to feel ashamed, or afraid to mention 
 the subject more unequivocally ; a weakness that I have 
 often vanquished that I will not now allow to conquer 
 me. I allude, then, to my having been hanged hanged 
 for the murder of Stephen George Blumenfield, only son
 
 A BOTTLE OF BED INK. 59 
 
 of the Assistant Deputy Electoral Mining Inspector 
 Resident at Karleschaffe. 
 
 Blumenfield and myself were fellow-students in the 
 Georgia Augusta. "We entered together, and of course 
 passed together through the various degrees of Fochs, 
 Brand Fochs, Junger Bursch, and Alter Bursche; 
 another semester would have conferred on both the dig- 
 nity of Goldner Fochs, when the lamentable event to 
 which I have adverted cut short my friend's career in 
 this world, and mine at the university of Gottingcn. 
 We resided at No. 11, the Hatmaker's in the Linden 
 Street, and as we lived together in very good fellowship, 
 so did we unite very heartily in our scandals and re- 
 nownings, in our commerzen and riding parties, and 
 alas ! to our mutual sorrow, in falling in love with the 
 pretty Bertha Landholm, the daughter of our principal 
 Natural Philosophy Professor. Yes, she was very 
 pretty ; and even now, my beloved Bertha, I would not 
 change that mild kind face of thine, as thou sittest un- 
 conscious of my gaze, with thy bright hair and beautiful 
 profile thrown clearly out by the silvery light of our 
 autumn atmosphere, for the loveliest that Raphael ever 
 conceived, or Vandyke ever copied.
 
 60 A BOTTLE OF RED IXX. 
 
 Blumenfield was a true German; mystical, melan- 
 choly, honest, cold in demeanour, but concealing fire 
 under frost. To such a man unrequited love was an 
 enduring misery. Bertha loved me, but Blumenfield 
 did not hate me ; he was too high-minded and generous. 
 " You have taken no unfair advantage, Rudiger," he 
 used to say : " Bertha must have preferred one, and 
 that she prefers my friend, almost reconciles me to my 
 own disappointment." Nevertheless, he was not recon- 
 ciled; he became moody, and at times, in defiance of 
 very magnanimous efforts to conquer feelings so foreign 
 to his nature, morose. In the meanwhile, my friends 
 and Bertha's father had consented to our union at the 
 end of the semester, and I was almost glad that they 
 had postponed our marriage till that period, as I knew 
 Blumenfield contemplated a long tour during the va- 
 cation, which would remove him, for some months, from 
 Gottingen. 
 
 It was on the 20th of December, the day before the 
 commencement of the vacation : I had passed the entire 
 morning at Doctor Lindholm's, and was engaged to 
 return to his house in the evening to join one of those 
 friendly intellectual meetings which then formed the
 
 A BOTTLE OF KED INK. 61 
 
 charm of the "University, and at which men, eminent in 
 every branch of science and literature, delighted to assist. 
 I remember the day well, and in truth I have good cause. 
 It was raw and gusty ; frequent showers of snow had 
 fallen, and a boisterous wind swept sullenly through the 
 leafless limes in the Linden Street, whirling the snow up 
 in cutting drifts and sighing mournfully through the 
 long branches of the ancient trees. Overhead was a 
 canopy of dark grey clouds, tossed together in disorder 
 and looking more gloomy from the opposition of the 
 high white roofs of the houses which were loaded with 
 snow. I hurried home, and as usual, on my arrival, 
 inquired if any notes or letters had been brought during 
 my absence. The reply was, only one by the Post 
 which I should find on my table. That letter was the 
 cause but I will not anticipate. Taking my light from 
 old Margaret, a kind of bed-maker or charwoman to the 
 students lodging in the house, I proceeded to my own 
 apartment ; and after placing my evening habiliments 
 near the stove, I read the letter which was lying on my 
 desk : it required an immediate reply, but on my pre- 
 paring to write one, I found that either my own care- 
 lessness, or that of another, had overset my ink, and that
 
 62 A BOTTLE OF BED INK. 
 
 I was destitute of that essential agent in the production 
 of an epistle. This was vexatious, because I was not 
 inclined to be pleased with any delay which detained 
 me from Bertha ; however, the letter must be answered 
 if possible the post was going off in a quarter of an 
 hour, and I had nothing left but to crave the loan of the 
 indispensible from one of my fellow-students. Our 
 house was one of those old-fashioned mansions very 
 common in the German University towns, where a 
 square central courtyard is surrounded by the dwelling, 
 and overhung by galleries into which the several apart- 
 ments open. Three of the latter, in addition to the 
 rooms tenanted by Blumenfield and myself, were occu- 
 pied by students, and I had knocked at each door 
 without success, before I recollected that a grand com- 
 merz of their landmanship was held by a distinguished 
 Bursch, their absence from which would have been 
 considered as an affront, even if they themselves would 
 not have deemed the loss of a deep carouse a severe 
 affliction. Blumenfield' s room was but on the other side 
 of the gallery, yet I felt a reluctance to apply there, as 
 of late I could not fail to perceive that my presence 
 seemed to agitate him; I therefore turned down the
 
 A BOTTLE OF BED IN T K. bo 
 
 stair near my own door, with a view to supply myself 
 with whatever composition the people of the house 
 might dignify with the title of Ink, and had reached the 
 bottom of the flight, when it occurred to me that I had 
 to deliver to Blumenfield a message from Professor 
 Neuhuller, relative to a certificate of attendance at the 
 geological class which it was necessary for him to pos- 
 sess. Instead of returning by the gallery, and so losing 
 time, I hastened straight across the courtyard, from 
 which ascended another staircase, leading up directly to 
 the door of my friend's apartment. The snow had 
 ceased, but the courtyard was deeply covered with the 
 exception of the black circular mouth of the well nearly 
 under that quarter of the gallery to which I was pro- 
 ceeding. On mounting to Blumenfield' s door I found it 
 ajar, notwithstanding the coldness of the weather; and 
 when I entered his room, I could scarcely see whether 
 it was occupied or not ; for the short deep twilight of 
 winter had now set in, and there was no light in the 
 apartment beyond that produced by the embers glowing 
 through the open door of the stove. The voice of my 
 friend, however, speedily assured me of his presence, .as
 
 64 A BOTTLE OF BED ETK. 
 
 he said, from the sofa where he was lying, " That is 
 you, Holstein." 
 
 " It is," I replied. " But in the name of the Hartz 
 demon, Stephen, how do you recognise me in this 
 Cimmerian darkness ? " 
 
 " By heaven," he answered, with a hoarse voice, " I 
 would know your footfall now amongst a million. There 
 is a devil at my ear, Rudiger, who whispers me a thou- 
 sand strange secrets, that till now I knew not ; he is the 
 devil of envy or jealousy ; but he has taught me to hear 
 your footstep when you are dancing a mile off, with 
 you know whom : to hear your voice as you whisper in 
 her ear, and to see you at her father's although there is 
 the long Linden Street, and the depth of two hundred 
 house walls between us." 
 
 " For heaven's sake, Blumenfield," said I, " struggle 
 against this weakness." 
 
 " Struggle against it !" he answered loud and fiercely, 
 at the same time springing up and advancing, while his 
 tall figure looked like a darker shadow in the dusky 
 glimmer, which barely rendered it visible. " Struggle 
 against it! you know not, Holstein, with what I con-
 
 A fiOTTLE OF EED INK. 65 
 
 tend ; but it cannot last, it shall not last. No, Kudiger, 
 the pathway of your bridal will be over a new-made 
 grave." With these words he turned hastily from me, 
 and entering the small inner apartment flung the door 
 to with a violence that made the old room shake. Much 
 us I grieved for the state of mind which had wrought 
 so melancholy a change in the kind-hearted and quiet 
 Blumenfield, I felt that it was in vain for me to reason 
 with him now, and that any attempt at consolation might 
 only add to the irritability under which he suffered, and 
 of which I was the principal though innocent cause. I 
 resolved, therefore, to leave that cure to time which 
 time alone could effect ; and as I felt reluctant, after the 
 scene which had just passed, to touch upon common 
 topics, I resolved to communicate Professor Neuhuller's 
 message to him by a note. This again reminded me ot 
 my deficiency in that great agent which is rather indis- 
 pensable to men of letters in all parts of the world, 
 excepting those where certain primitive people scratch 
 their lucubrations upon leaves. No time was to be lost, 
 however, in supplying this desideratum. The Post, 
 even a German Post, is tolerably peremptory in its
 
 66 A BOTTLE OF BED DTK. 
 
 departure, and besides, every minute was sixty till I 
 rejoined my dear Bertha. 
 
 Some time before the period I am adverting to, a few 
 students of the chemical class had betaken themselves 
 to the analysis of the inks and pigments used for the 
 illumination of the manuscripts of the middle ages, the 
 writing and ornaments of which still surprise us by 
 their strength and lustre of colour, while our science is 
 baffled in its attempts to provide inks and tints of equal 
 durability and beauty. The analysis naturally led to 
 many attempts at synthetical imitation, and, amongst 
 others, some red and black inks, produced by Blumen- 
 field and myself, were highly commended for the in- 
 tensity of their colour, and the probable durability which 
 was promised by the nature of the materials employed 
 in their composition. I mention these trifles, because 
 they exercised the most tremendous influence on my 
 destiny. I was aware that two bottles containing 
 specimens had been deposited in a closet in Blumen- 
 field's apartment ; it was open, and after a little groping 
 in corners and on shelves, I grasped one, which, from 
 the form, (it was a curious, old, long-necked Rhenish
 
 A BOTTLE OF BED IXK. 67 
 
 bottle, ornamented with raised bunches of grapes and 
 vine leaves,) I knew to be one of those I sought; but 
 whether it contained the red or black ink I could not, 
 at the moment, call to mind. I stooped, and holding it 
 before the feeble light of the open stove, with some 
 trouble to my eyes, at length ascertained that it was 
 red. This was not, of course, what I required; I, 
 therefore, turned to replace it in the closet, and in doing 
 so, to my enduring misfortune, I struck the bottle 
 against the leaf of a table, which the darkness of the 
 apartment did not allow me to perceive. As is often 
 the case with vitreous vessels ornamented as was the 
 bottle in question, it separated with the blow into two 
 parts, the fracture following the line of one of the raised 
 scrolls of grapes and vine leaves which encircled it. 
 The contents were partly emptied on the floor, partly 
 on the table, and, as it appeared to me by the very 
 imperfect light, on some papers. This was very annoy- 
 ing, as they might be of importance, and in the vexation 
 of the moment I pulled out my handkerchief to absorb 
 the ink as quickly as possible. Having done so, as far 
 as the glimmering gloom would allow me to judge, I 
 sought for an old hunting knife, (which, entangled in 
 
 F2
 
 68 A BOTTLE OF RED ISK. 
 
 my handkerchief, had been drawn from my pocket and 
 fallen at my feet;) but after feeling about the floor for 
 a minute or two in vain my impatience prevailed, and I 
 left the apartment, carrying with me the two fragments 
 of the broken bottle, which I threw into the courtyard 
 as I hurried round the gallery to my own chamber. It 
 was too late to write now, indeed I was still without ink, 
 so hastily changing my dress, I hurried away to enjoy the 
 delightful evening which I anticipated, in company with 
 my beloved Bertha and her father's enlightened circle. 
 It was one of unmixed pleasure, but the early hours of the 
 worthy Professor cut it shorter than I and another would 
 have chosen ; and about ten o'clock I found myself again 
 pacing the long Linden Street towards my own lodging. 
 Though a sharp frosty wind still swept howling through 
 the old limes, the night was fine, the clouds had been 
 hurried away by the strong blast, and the heavens, as 
 dark as ebony, were studded with countless stars, glit- 
 tering sharp and clear in this frosty atmosphere, save 
 where the faint light of the setting moon east a silver 
 veil through which they gleamed with a more tranquil 
 lustre. All was quiet in the streets, except now and 
 then, when the wind hurried past some fragment of a
 
 A BOTTLE OF BED INK. 69 
 
 Hursch chorus, softened and sweetened by distance ; or 
 the ear caught the tramp of the town Jagers on the 
 crisp snow. I am not superstitious, that is for a 
 German, yet, even now, I cannot look back upon a cir- 
 cumstance which occurred by that corner of the Linden 
 Street, where it is crossed by the Elector George Street 
 between the old church and Yerenschlaufer's book ware- 
 house, without fancying that, as my favourite Shakspear 
 says, " There are many things in heaven and earth that 
 philosophers do not know." Just as I had reached the 
 place I have mentioned, I started back in some terror, 
 and more astonishment, at finding the breadth of the 
 trottoir crossed by a kind of narrow trench (rendered 
 very visible by the surrounding snow,) which certainly 
 had not existed four hours previous, and which was 
 very unlikely to have been left open even if it had been 
 dug during the interval. I at first thought that it was 
 a strong shadow, but the moon was not powerful enough 
 to cast one of such intense depth on a surface of snow, 
 and on thrusting my stick into the apparent cavity it 
 encountered no opposition. I certainly felt greatly 
 surprised, but prepared to walk round the extremity of 
 the opening, when I was suddenly struck by its exact
 
 70 A BOTTLE OF RED INK. 
 
 resemblance to the graves in that part of Germany, 
 which sextons usually contrive to shape in the fashion 
 of the expected coffin, though of course larger. I paused, 
 while an undefinable thrill crept through my whole 
 frame. I tried to penetrate the depth of the cavity 
 with my eyes, and, as my sight seemed to grow accus- 
 tomed to the darkness, I plainly distinguished a coffin 
 with silver ornaments. A glow worm was trailing its 
 pale green light along the surface, and as it approached 
 the central plate, reserved for the name of the deceased, I 
 read with horror, by the feeble illumination, that of 
 " Blumenfield." I staggered back, and covered my 
 eyes with both my hands. At that moment the clock 
 of the old church chimed the first quarter after ten. 
 I looked again for the grave, but there was nothing 
 before me except the white pathway marked by the 
 footsteps of those who had trod it since the snow had 
 ceased to fall. All this might have been a trick of the 
 imagination, arising from some involuntary and un- 
 detected recollection of the words Blumenfield had 
 used ; but it must be confessed that it was a singular 
 one, and more especially when taken in connection with 
 what followed.
 
 A BOTTLE OF BED INK. 71 
 
 I reached home ; and, as it was yet early, I resolved 
 to make another attempt to deliver professor Neuhuller's 
 message to Blumenfield ; who might otherwise leave 
 Gottingen for the vacation too early on the following 
 morning to read any note I might intrust to the servant 
 of the house, even if that expert person was alert 
 enough to put it into his hand before his departure. 
 I went round the gallery to his apartment. The outer 
 door was open, but the very embers on the stove had 
 expired, and the rooms were in total darkness. I 
 knocked at the inner door three or four times, but 
 received no answer. I was afraid to irritate Blumen- 
 field by persevering, or by entering his room, (for I 
 felt assured, that he must have heard my knock, though 
 he would not reply to it,) I was therefore compelled, 
 after all, to trust the matter to a note. As I was 
 leaving the chamber, my foot encountered something, 
 which, on stooping down, I found to be my hunting 
 knife, but with the large blade open. I thought not 
 much of this last circumstance, as the spring was one, 
 the dismissal of which from its imperfectly performed 
 office, I had frequently contemplated. I concluded, 
 therefore, that the blade had flown open when it fell
 
 72 A BOTTLE OF EED INK. 
 
 on the floor : but, when I returned to my room, I was 
 startled for a moment, as the light showed me the 
 white handle of my knife spotted and stained with 
 crimson. I speedily recollected, however, that it must 
 have fallen in the red ink spilt on the floor, and which 
 I now observed, had also given a most sanguinary hue to 
 many portions of the dress I had changed before going 
 out for the evening. This was somewhat vexatious, for 
 the suit was a handsome one ; (who ever passed the 
 morning with his mistress ill-attired ? ) and I felt too 
 sure of the admirable qualities of the compound we had 
 manufactured, to imagine that its "damned spots" 
 would ever yield to the industry of mortal scourers. 
 But what are the economical evils of life to a man in 
 love ! I wrote a pencil note to Blumenfield, communi- 
 cating Professor N 's message and my own good 
 
 wishes ; gave it to our ancient Hebe, Margaret Schlenk, 
 went to bed, and dreamed that Bertha and myself were 
 sailing through heaven in the pearly boat of the new 
 moon. Suddenly my dream became confused. I 
 thought that the stars, amongst which we were quietly 
 floating, began to whirl round and round with frightful 
 rapidity. A fiery haze, from the midst of which a
 
 A BOTTLE OF RED INK. 73 
 
 thousand horrid faces mocked and mowed at us, 
 enveloped our celestial bark : suddenly that was shat- 
 tered by a shower of thunder-bolts ; down we fell 
 thousands of fathoms, through storm and sleet, darkness 
 and the clang of warring elements. In my terror I 
 strove to clasp Bertha, but she fell faster than I. I 
 gasped with agony, as I saw her fluttering white gar- 
 ments diminished to a speck, and at the same moment 
 a gigantic shadowy figure arrested my own flight 
 through the regions of space, with a strong grasp. In 
 its dim outline of form and feature it bore the linea- 
 ments of my unhappy friend, and I shouted " Blumen- 
 field ! " 
 
 " Yes," replied a voice, as I awoke with a start, and 
 found a heavy hand upon my shoulder ; " yes, unhappy 
 young man, no wonder that your troubled visions 
 should even now begin the work of retribution ; dress 
 speedily, and attend me." 
 
 During this brief address, I could scarcely persuade 
 myself, that I was not still dreaming. The speaker 
 was one of the University magistrates. Two Jagers 
 stood at the foot of the bed. Nearer the door were the 
 master and mistress and the servants of the house, with
 
 74 A BOTTLE OF BED INK. 
 
 one of their lodgers, looking disturbed and anxious, and 
 whispering rapidly to each other. 
 
 "What is the meaning of all this," I inquired; 
 " why is the privacy of my apartment invaded, my 
 door forced open? Are you mad, or is this some 
 miserable attempt at a Christmas frolic? Tell me, 
 Hans," I said to the student, " what is the object of 
 this assemblage ? I have not a single scandal to answer 
 for, or even a renowning." 
 
 Hans looked steadily at me, but said nothing. 
 
 " Rise, Sir," repeated the magistrate ; "I command 
 you in the name of the law ! " 
 
 Resistance or disobedience to this mandate would 
 have been derogatory to myself. The room being 
 cleared therefore of all but the officers of the police, 
 I dressed with all speed. " And now," I inquired, 
 " where is it your pleasure that I should accompany 
 you ? " 
 
 The magistrate merely opened the door of the apart- 
 ment, and motioned me to follow him; the two 
 subordinates kept close by my side. We walked round 
 the gallery followed by many who were waiting near 
 my chamber door ; not a word was spoken, and there
 
 A BOTTLE OF BED IXK. 75 
 
 were no sounds but the creaking of the heavy vane at 
 the house-top, as it veered in the gusts of a stormy 
 wind, (for the morning was chill and boisterous,) and 
 the dull, hollow noise of our feet on the wooden floor 
 of the gallery. Suddenly my conductor stopped before 
 the door of Blumenfield's room and indicated by a sign 
 his desire that I should enter. In an instant a thou- 
 sand thoughts, that I was on the verge of a horrible 
 situation, flashed across my mind. I remembered the 
 singular delusion of the preceding night by the old 
 church the termination of my dream, (though possibly 
 resolvable into a natural cause,) and, above all, my 
 friend's words, "the pathway of your bridal will be 
 over a new-made grave." I became sick and dizzy; 
 I anticipated I knew not what, yet something terrible ; 
 and, as I felt the blood recede for a moment in an icy 
 tide to my heart, I was forced to hold by the door-post 
 for support. It was but a moment ; but, as I recovered 
 myself, I observed those around me casting significant 
 looks at each other ; while the magistrate, regarding me 
 steadily, said, 
 
 " Sir, are you aware of any cause why you should 
 not enter that room ? "
 
 76 A BOTTLE OF BED DTK. 
 
 "What cause can there be, Sir?" I answered, with 
 some warmth, and threw open the door ; but how shall 
 I describe the deadly horror which seized me, when 
 the first object which my eyes encountered, was the 
 dead body of Blumenfield lying stark and stiff, im- 
 mediately behind the stove. " Gracious Heaven ! " I 
 exclaimed, as I felt myself the immediate though 
 innocent cause of his untimely fate ; " Gracious Heaven ! 
 I have murdered him." 
 
 " I fear so," answered a voice in the room, which 
 recalled my stunned senses, and my sight, (hitherto fas- 
 cinated by one dreadful object,) to the scene around me. 
 It was indeed a dreary one. Through the high narrow 
 casement, which shook and rattled with the increasing 
 storm, the cheerless light of the winter morning cast a 
 cold gleam into the chamber which fell full upon the 
 person of the dead man ; showing the dark stain upon 
 his breast, and the trickling rill that stole from beneath 
 his side, speaking no natural or timely erasure of his 
 name from the book of life. On the sofa sate two of 
 the University Senate attired in their black velvet 
 gowns and caps, by their side were the town Syndics, 
 and near the body stood an eminent anatomical pro-
 
 A BOTTLE OF BED IKK. 77 
 
 lessor, one of whose favourite pupils the deceased had 
 been. There were many others in the chamber, but it 
 was long and narrow, and I could merely see forms 
 moving in the dusky recesses of the apartment, while 
 the single stream of cold light fell strong upon the 
 group I have noticed. 
 
 " Mr. Holstein," said one of the Syndics abruptly, 
 but with a tone of deep gravity, " I have a painful 
 duty to perform; but much of what cannot but be 
 peculiarly distressing to my feelings may be spared me 
 if you will candidly detail, to the best of your recol- 
 lection, how you passed yesterday." 
 
 " I know not why," I replied, "I am called upon 
 for this explanation, and I might, perhaps, demand 
 some explicit reason, why it is sought from me; but 
 feeling conscious that I have nothing to conceal, I will 
 not, by refusing a reply even to an unauthorized inter- 
 rogatory, give rise to a suspicion that I have. Frankly 
 then, I spent nearly the whole of yesterday, as the 
 gentleman sitting by your side can testify, in the 
 company of one to whose society I soon hope to claim 
 the nearest and dearest title." 
 
 " Mr. Holstein," said the party appealed to, (Mr.
 
 78 A BOTTLE OF BED INK. 
 
 Senator and Theological Professor Brandt,) I can 
 readily vouch for the verity of that which you aver, 
 as during the repairs of my chambers I reside with my 
 friend, Professor Lindholm, and saw, therefore, that 
 you were in the house of my esteemed friend from ten 
 A. M. until half-past four p. M. doubtless occupied in the 
 manner wherein young people delight, and finding the 
 time short. You were again in my friend's parlour 
 when we sat at the evening meal, sweetened by social 
 and scientific converse, by the time the old church 
 clock had stricken the quarter past five. Thus much I 
 will freely avouch ; and yet it is strange, too," added 
 the venerable man, as he cast a pitying look at me, 
 and then turned to whisper to his brother of the 
 Senate. 
 
 ""We require no further evidence on those points," 
 said the Syndic. 
 
 "I should have hoped, Sir," I interrupted, "you 
 would have required none. Surely my word " 
 
 " Would have been sufficient, Mr. Holstein," replied 
 the magistrate, "on all ordinary occasions; but my 
 duty requires, Sir, that I should demand how you 
 occupied the time between the period of your quitting
 
 A BOTTLE OF EED INK. 79 
 
 Professor Lindholm's house at half-past four, and your 
 return to it at a quarter past five, or thereabouts ? " 
 
 Conscious, that I had nothing to conceal, I com- 
 menced the recital of those insignificant proceedings 
 which I have already detailed to the reader; but 
 towards the end of my narration, it suddenly struck me 
 that I must stand in some predicament which required 
 the most cautious recollection of what had occurred 
 during the period for which I was called upon to 
 account. "With all the rapidity of thought, though 
 scarcely pausing in my explanation, I retraced in my 
 own mind what I had done the preceding evening, and 
 the manner in which I had just recapitulated my 
 proceedings. I saw the glimmering of facts, though 
 faintly and confused, which might be distorted by 
 misconception into something like indirect evidence 
 that I was concerned in the perpetration of a horrid 
 crime. In a moment I seemed to see arrayed against 
 
 4 
 
 me a hundred circumstances, insignificant and innocent 
 in themselves, but far from easy of explanation. I 
 hesitated, I stammered, I endeavoured to rally my 
 ideas, to recall my self-possession; the effort served 
 only to confuse me still further. I recommenced my
 
 80 A BOTTLE OF BED E*K. 
 
 narration; but at length, yielding to an irresistible 
 impulse, I cried out, " Merciful Heaven ! you cannot 
 think that I did this" 
 
 "Did what?" inquired the Anatomical Professor, 
 looking up, and fixing his keen grey eyes on my face. 
 In a moment I saw the imprudence into which 
 conscious innocence had hurried me. 
 
 "No one accused you of anything, Mr. Holstein," 
 added the Syndic, in a voice of grave meaning; and 
 then there was a dead silence of a few minutes in the 
 room. 
 
 It was broken by the Anatomical Professor, who 
 asked me if I had any further explanation to offer. 
 
 "Explanation!" I replied, indignantly; "what do 
 you mean? This is a mockery of justice. Imagining me 
 guilty, heaven knows why or wherefore, you endeavour 
 to entrap me into a detail which may justify your 
 preconceptions. Feeling myself innocent I fall into 
 your snare ; but I will say no more save to one only. 
 Eudiger," I exclaimed, as I started forward, and 
 kneeling by the corpse, took its cold hand between 
 mine ; " Eudiger, my poor, my unhappy friend, God 
 knows how I grieve for thee : He knows, and it may be
 
 A BOTTLE OF EED INK. 81 
 
 thou also, how innocent I ever was of thought, of word, 
 or deed, designed for thy injury." As I spoke, I kissed 
 the pale forehead of the dead, then standing upright I 
 confronted my arraigners. The two Senators seemed 
 moved by the action or my manner ; but the Anatomical 
 Professor, a literary disciple of the French School, and 
 an esprit fort, coolly observed to the Syndic, " This is 
 your Schiller and Kotzebue ; it is rather strong for my 
 taste, and perhaps not altogether elucidatory of the facts 
 we wish to arrive at. What do you think, Mr. 
 Syndic ?" 
 
 " I understand my duty, Sir," replied the person 
 addressed, " and I hope to perform it humanely, as well 
 as conscientiously. Mr. Holstein, you are indeed under 
 a most grave suspicion. I sought your own detail of 
 your proceedings in an earnest hope that it might clearly 
 prove the impossibility of your participation in a dreadful 
 crime. I am sorry to say that your narration is not 
 elucidatory of many circumstances, of which it is my 
 distressing duty to demand from you a clearer explana- 
 tion than that which you have offered. The business of 
 justice must now proceed in a manner which will, I fear, 
 be more painful to yourself; call in Margaret Schlenk."
 
 82 A BOTTLE OF RED INK. 
 
 (The old woman entered pale and agitated,) " Did Mr. 
 Holstein return home in the course of yesterday ?" 
 
 " He did." 
 
 "At what hour?" 
 
 " I think, indeed, I am sure, it was hetween four and 
 five." 
 
 " Where was the deceased Blumenfield at the period 
 of Mr. Holstein' s return ?" 
 
 " In his apartment." 
 
 " How do you know that, woman ?" interrupted 
 Doctor Brandt. 
 
 " May it please your reverence, I had just taken up 
 some wood for his stove, and when I entered the room 
 he bade me begone, at the same time swearing a little, 
 as was his custom, please your reverence ; and just as I 
 got down to the lodge again, Mr. Holstein rung the 
 bell, and I lighted his candle, and gave it to him as he 
 entered." 
 
 " Were there any of the other gentleman students in 
 the house?" inquired the Syndic. 
 
 " No, they had all gone to a Commerz of their 
 Landsmanship." ("I don't doubt it," groaned the 
 venerable Brandt). "Very shortly after I took up
 
 A BOTTLE OF EED INK. 83 
 
 wood for Count Kalkreuth's stove; he was at the 
 Commerz, his room is next but one to this. While I 
 was putting in the fuel I heard voices, seemingly in 
 anger, from this chamber. Mr. Blumenfield's was very 
 high, but I also heard the voice of Mr. Holstein. In a 
 few seconds there was a noise, as of a heavy fall." 
 
 " Are you sure," I eagerly interrupted, " that it was 
 not the violent slamming of a door? " 
 
 " I don't know, I am a little deaf; I thought it was 
 the fall of some heavy body. Shortly after that Mr. 
 Holstein passed hastily by the door of Count Kalkreuth's 
 apartment (which I had left open), towards his own 
 room, and I saw him enter." 
 
 " Proceed." 
 
 " About ten minutes after that time, when I had 
 returned to the lodge, Mr. Holstein came down, and 
 gave me the candle as he was going out." 
 
 " Did you in the course of the evening go again to 
 Mr. Blumenfield's chamber ? " 
 
 " No, I was afraid. He was subject to what he 
 called ' black visitings of the muse,' and then he 
 always played the flute in the dark and swore at any 
 
 02
 
 84 A BOTTLE OF BED DTK. 
 
 one who interrupted him. So as he had sworn at me 
 that afternoon, I thought he had a black visiting, and 
 was afraid to disturb him." 
 
 " Go on." 
 
 " Mr. Holstein returned home a little after ten 
 o'clock, and gave me a note to deliver to Mr. Blumen- 
 field, who intended, poor young man, to leave Gottingen 
 this morning by the post waggon and not to return 
 during the vacation. Mr. Blumenfield had desired me 
 to call him at half past four for that purpose. I went 
 at the hour appointed, and knocked at his bed-room 
 door, but received no answer. I turned round to put 
 the candle on that table, and saw him lying dead behind 
 the stove, with the floor covered with blood, as you see." 
 (Here the poor woman became so agitated, that a Jager 
 was obliged to support her.) 
 
 " I immediately went to my master and mistress ; 
 and your worships," turning to the Syndic and Senators, 
 " know the rest." 
 
 " Chief of the Town Jagers, Melchior Krause, stand 
 forward and give your evidence," said the Syndic. 
 
 " By your honourable order," replied the Jager, " I
 
 A BOTTLE OF BED INK. 85 
 
 accompanied these good people to this house, and having 
 inspected the body of the deceased, I proceeded to 
 examine the premises." 
 
 " Relate your observations." 
 
 " In the court-yard there were marks of footsteps in 
 the snow, proceeding from the bottom of the western 
 stair-case, nearly under Mr. Holstein's room, to the 
 bottom of the east stair-case which ascends into the 
 gallery, close to this door." 
 
 " "Were the marks all in the direction from the western 
 to the east stair-case ?" 
 
 " They were, and the clear print of the footsteps 
 showed that the snow had been passed but once, and by 
 one person only, since it had fallen." 
 
 " Proceed." 
 
 " On examining the floor of the gallery, there were 
 the prints of a shoe distinctly traceable from the door 
 of the room we are now in, to that of the apartment 
 occupied by Mr. Holstein." 
 
 " How traceable ? the dry shoe would leave no mark 
 on the wooden floor." 
 
 " It could not have been dry the marks are dark 
 they look as if the soles of the shoes had been in blood."
 
 Ob A BOTTLE OF BED INK. 
 
 " Great Heaven ! " I exclaimed, " it must have been 
 the red ink." 
 
 The Syndic shrugged his shoulders, Professor 
 Brandt gave me a look in which indignation seemed 
 struggling with pity, while the Anatomist took snuff, 
 and muttered, with an incredulous smile, " Exceedingly 
 ingenious." 
 
 " I followed the traces," continued the Jager, " into 
 the outer room of Mr. Holstein's chambers. He 
 seemed to have undressed there, and I found in a closet, 
 and on his table, the articles I now produce." As he 
 spoke, he took a bundle from one of his followers, and 
 pulled out my yellow kerseymere waistcoat stained 
 with the awful red ink ; a pair of grey pantaloons, with 
 marks of the same disastrous compound about one of 
 the ankles; a stocking and handkerchief similarly 
 "dabbled," (as Shakspear hath it; ) my large hunting 
 knife, and the pair of shoes which I had changed for 
 others before returning to Professor Lindholm's the 
 preceding evening. The dignitaries seemed familiar 
 with the articles, as the Jager placed them one by one 
 on the table, and the examination proceeded in the 
 most methodical manner imaginable.
 
 A BOTTLE OF BED INK. 87 
 
 "Has Mr. Boot-maker Hellernmeister been desired 
 to compare those shoes with the footprints on the snow 
 und in the gallery ? " 
 
 " He has, Most Honorable; he attends in presence." 
 
 "Now, Mr. Hellernmeister, do the shoes correspond 
 with the marks we have alluded to ? " 
 
 "Precisely to a hair's breadth, to an outline," 
 replied the interrogated. 
 
 " Enough. Mr. Anatomical Professor Reichter, you 
 examined the body before us, at six o'clock this morn- 
 ing : how long do you imagine life had departed ? " 
 
 " Certainly many hours." 
 
 " What do you suppose to have been the cause of 
 death?" 
 
 " The stab of a sharp instrument." 
 
 " You have compared the wound with that knife on 
 the table, spotted with blood." 
 
 " It is red ink," murmured I in despair ; for I saw 
 the toils closing darkly and strongly around me. 
 
 "I have," replied the surgeon, "and can have no 
 doubt that the murder was committed with that 
 instrument. I have measured the breadth of the 
 wound, and it corresponds precisely with the breadth
 
 88 A BOTTLE OF BED DTK. 
 
 of the knife-blade at that part where the mark of its 
 having penetrated the body terminates the depth of 
 the wound also corresponds with the same mark the 
 name on the handle of the knife, (this was quite a 
 volunteer on the part of the worthy Professor,) ' is 
 Kudiger Holstein.' " 
 
 "I am innocent ! " I exclaimed, "as I hope for 
 mercy at the judgment hereafter, I am innocent ! but 
 what can I oppose to these fatally suspicious circum- 
 stances ? Alas ! I can only reiterate that I have spoken 
 but truth. The noise heard by Margaret was the door 
 flung to with violence by my poor unhappy friend 
 why unhappy, I need not explain to you, Professor 
 Brandt, who were fully aware of his unfortunate 
 attachment. The marks made by my shoes, and those 
 on my vestments, are, what I affirmed them to be, a 
 deeply tinted red ink; the knife dropped as I have 
 averred; and I fear, nay I do not doubt, that poor 
 Blumenfield, instigated by melancholy circumstances 
 acting upon a depressed spirit, found in it a ready 
 weapon, presented as it were by some unseen power to 
 his hand, for self-destruction. Dropped from his dying 
 grasp, I struck it with my foot on my second visit to
 
 A BOTTLE OF EED INK. 89 
 
 this chamber, as I have related. I know not where to 
 look for corroboration of what I have declared, except 
 in your own hearts, and your previous knowledge of 
 the unfortunate being who pleads before you. There 
 is one circumstance only which may bear out some 
 portion, and that not the least important, of my defence. 
 Let the courtyard be searched, and you will there find 
 the fragments of the bottle, which of a truth is the 
 origin of all this mischief, and which some may recog- 
 nize as having contained the detestable liquid." 
 
 " Margaret, door-keeper and bed-maker," interrogated 
 the Syndic, " has any rubbish, or aught else been 
 removed from the courtyard this morning ?" 
 
 Margaret replied in the negative. 
 
 " Then search the place narrowly; let Mr. Holstein 
 have the benefit of any discovery we may make there." 
 
 Many people immediately descended into the court- 
 yard, and feeling confident that they would there find the 
 fragments of the bottle without difficulty, I was a little 
 surprised that they did not immediately return. Minute 
 after minute elapsed however, and the dead silence of 
 the room was broken only by the gusty pattering of the 
 rain against the casement, and the ticking of the old
 
 90 A BOTTLE OF RED IXK. 
 
 clock in the corner. No one spoke, till the scraping 
 and tramp of feet across the wooden landing place of 
 the gallery were heard; the next moment the Chief 
 Jager entered, with those who had accompanied him, 
 and, to my horror and consternation, declared, that 
 after the most scrupulous search, even to the extent of 
 clearing the courtyard of snow, not a fragment of a 
 bottle or a morsel of broken glass of any description 
 could be discovered. 
 
 From that moment I gave myself up for lost ; all that 
 I had read in the " Causes Celebrex " hurried into my 
 mind. The shadows of those innocent beings who had 
 suffered death upon the evidence of lying circumstances 
 and, when too late, been found guiltless, seemed throng- 
 ing into the room, in the dusky recesses of which they 
 stood looking at me with sad pale faces and pitying 
 eyes. There too lay the dead so calm and cold, while I 
 his friend was arraigned as his murderer. I was almost 
 happy, for any change seemed a relief, when the Syndic 
 directed me to be removed to the Career. The bolts 
 and bars rattled as I was left alone in the dismal apart- 
 ment assigned to me. The clock of the old church 
 struck nine. At that hour the preceding morning I had
 
 A BOTTLE OF RED INK. 91 
 
 sat down to the cheerful hreakfast table of Professor 
 Lindholm Bertha was by my side the winter storm 
 had raged without, but the very sound awakened a feeling 
 of comfort as it contrasted with the happiness of my lot, 
 and the brightness of my future prospects. To-day the 
 clock struck, the storm swept in black gusts past my dim 
 grated window, but my hopes, my sweet anticipations 
 of years of happiness, where were they? where was 
 Bertha? I cast myself on the floor of my prison 
 chamber and groaned aloud. 
 
 I need not relate all the particulars of the thirty- six 
 following days the agony of try friends and relatives 
 Bertha's distraction my own misery how I was taken 
 to Hanover and tried by the chief criminal tribunal ; 
 how my defence was admirably conducted by the rising 
 jurisconsult, (and my dear friend,) the younger Lind- 
 holm, who shared his inestimable sister's conviction of 
 my innocence how the Judges read to their admiring 
 hearers a very eloquent lecture on the laws of evidence, 
 and finished by condemning me to suffer death at Got- 
 tingen, and, pour encourager les autres, in the presence of 
 the assembled University how the good Electorate of 
 Hanover had recently, out of compliment to its restored
 
 92 A BOTTLE OF BED INK. 
 
 prince it is to be presumed, changed the ceremony of 
 decapitation hy the sword to the less agreeable, though 
 very British process of hanging, and how I was the first 
 selected to undergo this pleasing and curious experiment. 
 Suffice it to say, that I found myself, on the day 
 appointed, suspended twelve feet from the ground in the 
 keen air of a January afternoon in the north of Ger- 
 many; and that as I took leave of the world my pre- 
 dominant feeling was indignation at the vile usage I 
 had received at its hands. Alas ! had I been hanged 
 scientifically, (our Gottingen finisher of the law was 
 but a bungler,) I should, in all probability, have treated 
 the matter less lightly ; for then, dear, dear Bertha, thy 
 image, which mingled with the strange confusion before 
 my eyes as I felt the cart becoming unsteady beneath 
 my feet, would never again have appeared to me, at 
 least in this world. 
 
 Some kind friends have since informed me that my 
 behaviour, on the unpleasant occasion I have alluded 
 to, was firm and manly, and that I scornfully denied, 
 to the last moment, that my fate was merited. Indeed 
 I was supported, as I have said, by a species of indigna- 
 tion which imparted such energy to my reiterated
 
 A BOTTLE OF BED INK. 93 
 
 declarations of innocence, that the majority of the 
 Burschen felt persuaded I had no connection with the 
 death of their fellow-student beyond that of being 
 hanged for it. It is true that the pro-rector and 
 principal law professor Von Griest, repeatedly told his 
 class that "men will lie, circumstances cannot," and 
 even assured myself a week before my execution, that 
 I was altogether wrong to question the axiom : still in 
 defiance of the rhetoric of a commentator on the Pan- 
 dects, in three volumes folio, the Burschen, particularly 
 those of my landsmanship, remained unconvinced of my 
 criminality. It will not excite surprise, therefore, 
 that amongst a number of high-spirited and rather 
 wild young men, enthusiastic and fond of adventure, 
 the feeling I have related should have led to many 
 schemes for my escape, which were as invariably frus- 
 trated by the vigilance of my goalers. The care taken 
 of the living prisoner, however, was considerably 
 relaxed, when it became tolerably probable that I had 
 ceased to be much interested in my own deliverance ; 
 and my body, after hanging a short time, was sent to 
 the Anatomical Theatre for the following morning's 
 demonstration to the classes ; and there it remained,
 
 94 A BOTTLE OF KED INK. 
 
 under no custody more formidable than that of a 
 drunken porter, and a bad lock. This will account for 
 some very singular sensations which affected me about 
 two in the morning of the 25th January, 1803, when I 
 became conscious that I was either entering upon a new 
 state of existence, or that if I had been hanged it had 
 not been at all to the purpose. I confess that the first 
 mentioned impression was altogether the predominant 
 one : innumerable whirring noises rang in my ears ; my 
 closed eyes were one moment dazzled by insupportable 
 flashes of green and red light, and the next seemed 
 starting from my head into a black and boundless 
 obscurity ; my flesh was racked by a thousand nameless 
 pains, and though conscious of an insupportable and tor- 
 turing desire to stir, I could as soon have pushed Mount 
 Blanc from its base as have moved my little finger. 
 Nevertheless, in the midst of this anguish, I felt conscious 
 that I had been somewhat harshly dealt by in what I 
 conceived to have been the world I had quitted, and my 
 appeal from the injustice of man to the justice of Heaven 
 was in the feeble murmur " THOU knowest I am 
 innocent." "Listen, listen/'cried a voice by my side, 
 " he will live he is innocent, oh I knew it ! "
 
 A BOTTLE OF RED INK. 95 
 
 " Hush ! " said another : but I had recognised in 
 the first accents those of my betrothed, and I fainted. 
 
 When next I became aware of my existence, it was 
 with a feeling that I revived to life such as it is in this 
 sublunary world. I was on a small but clean bed in a 
 neat cottage room : the cold yet clear light of a winter's 
 dawn mingled in the chamber with that of two ex- 
 piring candles. On one side stood a little group of 
 Burschen, dear friends and landsmen; on the other 
 were two most distinguished medical students; and 
 sitting at the foot of the bed, with his looks anxiously 
 fixed on my face, was the brother of Bertha ; a bonnet 
 and shawl lay on the table, beneath the casement. The 
 moment I opened my eyes I was cautioned not to 
 attempt to speak or move, as the slightest exertion 
 would endanger my miraculously preserved life; a 
 composing cordial was cautiously administered, and my 
 kind friends, excepting one of the medical students, 
 leaving the room, I sunk shortly after into a long and 
 refreshing slumber. 
 
 In a few days I was restored to my original health, 
 and I then learnt that my friends had contrived to 
 abstract my body from the Anatomical Theatre, under
 
 96 A BOTTLE OF BED INK. 
 
 the encouraging assurance of a Scotch medical student 
 that the hanging had been performed in a most 
 slovenly manner ; that I had not been suspended long 
 enough, and that after all, there might be life in 
 me. 
 
 " At all events," said young Lindholm, " we deter- 
 mined that you should neither serve for the subject 
 of a Surgical Lecture, nor for the ornament of the 
 Raven Stone ; so wrapping you in blankets, we carried 
 you across the frontier. Long and earnestly did M. 
 and Von. H. toil and apply all the resources of their 
 art for your resuscitation ; but our Scottish friend was 
 right in his judgment, their endeavours were crowned 
 with a success, of which you, my dear friend, are the 
 best judge" 
 
 " And Bertha?" 
 
 "Bertha behaved like one of Schiller's heroines, 
 though she had nearly spoiled all by her exclama- 
 tion when you revived." 
 
 " And the University Senate ?" 
 
 "Have not been too energetic in their inquiries; 
 they suppose nothing worse or better than that your 
 landsmen carried you off to give you decent interment.
 
 A BOTTLE OF RED INK. 97 
 
 You are now in Hof Geismar ; keep quiet for a short 
 time, and then," 
 
 " And then," I replied, " adieu to fatherland for 
 ever: Bertha can never be the wife of a convicted 
 criminal ; and, conscious of my innocence, I could never 
 so far assume the part of guilt as to linger out a 
 wretched existence of falsities, disguises, and evasions. 
 Xo, Lindholm, there is another and a better world." 
 
 " For shame," said my friend, " you are not going to 
 be so ungrateful for all our trouble?" 
 
 "By no means, my dear friend, I am going to 
 America." And to America I went. I landed poor, 
 for I would not owe anything to a land which had cast 
 me off from amongst her living as a criminal ; but if 
 there is no royal road to wealth in the Union, there is 
 one pretty distinctly marked out for industry, talents, 
 and knowledge. I employed such as I possessed to the 
 best advantage. Fortune too seemed disposed to com- 
 pensate for the unkind trick she had played me in the 
 other hemisphere; while circumstances which had 
 exercised so disastrous an influence on my fate at Got- 
 tingen, were gracious and benign to a miracle in Xew 
 York. Suffice it to say, that the year 1807 found me at
 
 98 A BOTTLE OF RED INK. 
 
 the head of the respectable house of Holstein and Man- 
 derson, with my counting house on the Broadway, and 
 my pretty villa at New Harton. I never concealed my 
 story, and I had the satisfactory conviction that most of 
 those to whom I related it were persuaded of its truth. 
 One happiness alone was wanting, need I repeat it 
 was Bertha ? I had received letters from time to time, 
 both from herself and her brother ; my singular resus- 
 citation had become no secret at Gottingen, but professor 
 Lindholm was less convinced of my innocence than of 
 my escape, so that there appeared very little prospect of 
 my ever calling my betrothed by any dearer name. 
 
 It was in the autumn of the year 1807. A ship had 
 arrived from Hamburg that day, and I went as usual to 
 the post office to inquire for letters. As I was putting 
 the question to the clerk, I heard a voice in foreign 
 English inquire my address. I turned, and the next 
 moment was locked in the embrace of Bertha's brother. 
 
 " Come with me," he said, " there are no letters 
 what I have to communicate, I determined to be the 
 bearer of myself." 
 
 We hurried home, when throwing down a number of 
 papers, " There," said my friend " there is Orfila's
 
 A BOTTLE OF RED INK. 99 
 
 analysis and opinion there is the process verbal there 
 is the record of the sittings at Hanover and Gottingen, 
 and finally there is the decree reversionary drawn up by 
 the judges of the criminal tribunal, endorsed by the 
 senate, and ratified by the signature of Marshal Mortier 
 himself, confound him ; though on this occasion, I could 
 forgive even his master." 
 
 "And Bertha?" I inquired, laying my hand upon 
 the papers, but not looking at them. 
 
 " Bertha is yours, heart and mind, as she ever was 
 The French have turned the heads of all the women in 
 Hanover, but Bertha has repulsed the whole etat majeur 
 of the 24th Legere, and even declined the hand, life, 
 fortune, &c., formally placed at her disposal by M. 
 de Xansouty himself, Colonel of the Chasseurs of the 
 Guard, and Aid-de-camp to the Emperor." 
 
 " Then," said I, " I will learn the acknowledgment 
 of my innocence, for such your words lead me to antici- 
 pate in these papers, with redoubled gratitude to the 
 merciful and just Providence, which has permitted it to 
 be made manifest." Devoutly did I return Heaven 
 thanks for its infinite goodness. 
 
 "Come," said my friend, after I had poured forth 
 
 H 2
 
 100 A BOTTLE OF RED DTK. 
 
 my gratitude in heartfelt prayer, "come, plague not 
 your eyes and your understanding with barbarous Law 
 Latin ; those parchments are merely vouchers for the 
 veracity of a strange narration, which requires some 
 better evidence in its favor than that which they were 
 pleased to consider sufficient in a case we need not 
 mention." 
 
 It appeared from my friend's narrative, that about 
 three months before, Orfila, the celebrated chemist and 
 writer on medical jurisprudence, had arrived at Got- 
 tingen for the purpose of making some important 
 experiments in concert with Professor Berselius, who 
 came from Stockholm to meet him. These distin- 
 guished men were of course received with all honour 
 by the scientific members of the University, " where, 1 ' 
 said L " I happened to be at the time, as it was the 
 period of our law recess." The subject of medical 
 jurisprudence was frequently discussed in compliment 
 to our Italian visitant, and amongst other singular cases 
 in which undeniable circumstantial evidence was op- 
 posed by a kind of internal and moral conviction that it 
 did not speak truth, yours was mentioned. The great 
 chemist desired to have access to the records of the trial.
 
 A BOTTLE OF EED INK. 101 
 
 aud subsequently, at my instigation, begged permission 
 to examine those articles of dress, &c. which were con- 
 sidered to corroborate other indirect testimony, and 
 bring poor Blumenfield's death home to your hand. 
 The Senate very readily acceded to his wishes. About 
 a fortnight after Orfila had been placed in possession of 
 the articles, he wrote in a very earnest manner to 
 request that every search might be made amongst the 
 records of the chemical classes, in order to ascertain if 
 the composition of the red ink of fatal celebrity, had 
 been communicated by its inventors. You may be sure, 
 that I was not the most idle of those who busied them- 
 selves for days inspecting all the rubbish of chemical 
 dissertations and speculations for many years back, and 
 at length a document was discovered in Blumenfield's 
 wild hand, which detailed the composition of your 
 precious pigment. Orfila, who had requested that if 
 such a paper was found he should be apprized of the 
 discovery without delay, hurried to the great hall of 
 records, already crowded with professors and students, 
 and rapidly explained in a mixture of good French, 
 bad German, and Italian expletives, that he had every 
 reason to believe, from careful examination and analysis,
 
 102 A BOTTLE OF RED IXK. 
 
 that the stains on your waistcoat, pantaloons, knife- 
 handle, &c. were not those of blood. There was a 
 sensation, (as the conquerors of our poor Hanover say,) 
 and the philosopher proceeded to detail the ingredients 
 he had discovered in analysing the supposed marks of 
 murder. After he had concluded, he placed upon the 
 table a written statement of his investigation, and its 
 results. 
 
 " And now," said he, " let us compare the component 
 parts of the substance I have investigated, with those 
 ingredients described to have been used in the forma- 
 tion of this maladetta red ink." 
 
 Poor Blumenfield's paper, which had been appended 
 to an unmerciful dissertation of your own on illuminated 
 manuscripts, was then read ; and to our admiration, no 
 less than to our joy and astonishment, it was conclusive 
 as to the accuracy of Orfila's experiments ; every 
 material adverted to in his analytical report being 
 distinctly specified in Blumenfield's note as necessary 
 to the composition of your illuminating red ink. 
 
 " And now," continued the great chemist, " it is my 
 duty to lay before you a discovery which may be 
 infinitely more corroborative of the innocence of your
 
 A BOTTLE OF RED INK. 103 
 
 countryman, than even my analysis. Amongst other 
 articles committed to me for inspection, were some 
 papers much stained with what was presumed to be 
 blood ; many of them were in a manner pasted together 
 by the viscidity of the liquid which had fallen on them. 
 This morning only, as I was separating some of the 
 leaves, with a view to satisfy myself by further analysis 
 on a particular point, my eye was attracted by this 
 writing. I read no German, but the signature is 
 ' Blumenfield.' The paper was glued between two 
 others by the liquid ; the extreme margins of the sheets 
 however, were alone united, so that you will have no 
 difficulty in deciphering the writing." 
 
 It ran as follows : 
 
 " Father, my dear sisters, and the friends of my house 
 the darkness, the thunder-shadow of fate has come upon 
 my soul. I am tired of life life, that offers now no- 
 with-a-glad-heart-to-be-gathered-flowers to my hand, 
 no star to my sight. SHE might have cheered the way of 
 the world's pilgrimage, though its-not-to-be-returned- 
 from-bourne is the black grave. With the thousand- 
 hearted strength of omnipotent energy I would, for her, 
 have tasked the powers of nature, and wrung reluctant
 
 104 A BOTTLE OF BED INK. 
 
 aid from the mysterious influences which exist in organ- 
 ized things, and minister to the triumph of their con- 
 queror. She should have dwelt in a regality of not-to- 
 be-every-day-conceived happiness, while the twin ener- 
 gies of resistless love and matter, by the mind-com- 
 pelling will, should have burnt up the brambles of her 
 path, and scattered flowers but let it pass. I was to 
 leave Gottingen to-morrow, for the vacation. I shall 
 leave it to-night, for that long vacation, which frees the 
 not-to-be-restrained-on-earth soul from its base task- 
 master, the body. Ere the day again lights him to her 
 side, the golden cord will be loosed, the silver bowl 
 broken, the stainless eagle will have soared away to the 
 regions of the never-by-clouds-obscured sun, and the 
 spirit, absorbed in the eternal vitality which animates 
 the Universe, shall look down with a no-human-tongue- 
 to-be-expressed calmness, on the joys, the sorrows, the 
 hopes and fears of the dark past. Father, sisters, 
 kindred, landsmen, adieu ! with the last earthly yearn- 
 ings of a not-to-be-conceived affection, I embrace you 
 and now Bertha! Holstein! let the path of your 
 bridal pass over my grave." 
 
 The date of this characteristic epistle, which had not
 
 A BOTTLE OF BED INK. 105 
 
 been folded or directed, was the 20th of December, 
 1801, at 4 P.M. the signature to it, clearly Blumen- 
 field's. 
 
 " But even if it were wanting," observed professor 
 Keichter, " I could swear to the style, being that which 
 my otherwise sane pupil was pleased to adopt after a 
 long course of study in those works of incomprehensible 
 excellence, the plays of our new German school. Ha ! 
 I dare say, that the poor lad, in stabbing himself with 
 his friend's knife, for I begin to have very little doubt 
 on that point now, acted quite according to the laws of 
 Schiller and Kotzebue, though the last act of the drama 
 involved rather disagreeable consequences to the pro- 
 prietor of the weapon." 
 
 " Under the circumstances I have related, continued 
 Lindholrn, the conviction of your innocence spread 
 rapidly ; but it seemed fated, that nothing should be 
 left undiscovered which was likely to corroborate it. 
 Many became naturally desirous to inspect the locale of 
 a mysterious transaction, now so unexpectedly made 
 aear ; amongst others, Orfila, accompanied by Marescot 
 an intelligent French colonel of engineers who had 
 travelled with him to the University, went with myself
 
 106 A BOTTLE OF BED DTK. 
 
 and my father to the hatter's in the Linden Street, 
 which had so nearly proved a fatal residence to you. 
 After looking over the premises we were leaving the 
 room, where Blumenfield had found, and doubtless used 
 your hunting-knife, when my father observed on the 
 strange fatality which seemed, as it were by necromancy 
 to have hidden from the most scrupulous reach the 
 fragments of the broken bottle you declared to have been 
 thrown into the courtyard. ' Bah ! ' said the French- 
 man, whose quick military glance scanned the whole 
 scene, as it would have reconnoitered an enemy's posi- 
 tion ; ' You are good stupid kind of people enough, 
 you Germans, for residents in an University. Sacre ! 
 cannot you see how the thing must have happened ? 
 The poor lad steps out of the room we have just left, 
 here, to the place where we are now standing in the 
 gallery ; he sees no necessity for carrying his broken 
 glass one step further than he can avoid, and con- 
 sequently from this spot he flings the fragments into the 
 courtyard : Morbleu ! where would they be the least 
 more likely to fall, than in that well which stands so 
 invitingly open under the gallery ? ' The moment the 
 idea was started, the probability of its correctness was
 
 A BOTTLE OF RED 1XK. 107 
 
 acknowledged ; the well was searched, and Marescot's 
 theory confirmed by the workmen bringing up the 
 fractured pieces of your bottle, with its scroll of grapes 
 uud vine leaves ; and what may be very satisfactory to 
 you as one of its inventors, a certain tinge of the red 
 ink, which neither time nor 'spring water had wholly 
 effaced. Need I say that without delay all the neces- 
 sary steps were taken to establish your innocence in 
 full legal form ; on the table lie the results of our efforts. 
 And now I have only to congratulate you that our 
 Hanoverian loyalty made hanging fashionable in the 
 year 1803, as the sweep of the headman's sword, after 
 the good old Teutonic fashion, if not a greater enemy 
 to the establishment of a man's posthumous innocence, 
 is certainly a formidable obstacle to his taking advantage 
 of such a discovery." 
 
 I have little more to add. I returned with my friend 
 to Gottingen, and found a compensation for all my past 
 degradation in the sweet certainty that it had not 
 shaken either the faith or love of Bertha Lindholm. 
 After our marriage, the state of Germany, overrun by 
 the French and oppressed by Napoleon, decided our 
 return to the United States; where, with the exception
 
 108 A BOTTLE OF RED INK. 
 
 of an occasional visit to Fatherland, as commerce or 
 inclination led me there, I have since resided. I have 
 served the country of my adoption in the State Legis- 
 lature and in Congress. I have studied laws and men. 
 I have received several letters from Professor Von Greist, 
 to prove that my case was a mere exception to his 
 general rule. But I remain as obstinately convinced 
 as T was in the Career of Gottingcn, that it is a little 
 premature to hang a man without strong direct living 
 testimony of his guilt ; and as obstinately unconvinced 
 of the truth of two words out of the five which com- 
 pose the worthy professor's axiom, that 
 
 " Men will lie, circumstances cannot." 
 
 If I had never, since my own misfortune, seen cir- 
 cumstances lie faster than a whole regiment of Gascon 
 light infantry if I had never seen them deceive and 
 mislead half the judgments which men pass upon their 
 neighbour's conduct in the ordinary transactions of life, 
 if I had ever been inclined to waver in the opinion I 
 always entertained, that an irrevocable sentence should 
 not be executed on circumstantial evidence alone then
 
 A BOTTLE OF EED INK. 109 
 
 to restore myself to a state of wholesome and humble 
 scepticism, to recall me to charity, to make me 
 cautious in condemnation, and slow to believe evil of 
 another ; I need only dip my pen into A BOTTLE OF RED 
 INK.
 
 THE PICTURE GALLERY.
 
 THE PICTURE GALLERY. 
 NUMBER I. 
 
 r. 
 
 I hear them now Their glad laugh on the breeze, 
 Mingled with trumpets, and with that wild pipe 
 On which the young fauns wake their melodies 
 When apples fall, and the brown nuts are ripe. 
 And there too, basking at his savage ease, 
 See the tamed tiger, mashing in his gripe 
 The purple mantled grape, whose rich juice swells 
 The heart of man with joy where'er he dwells. 
 
 Potent and dark it glows, with a warm lustre, 
 
 Like that young wild Bacchante's glance, who crushing 
 
 Into a silver bowl one mighty cluster 
 
 Turns from a faun, half laughing and half blushing ; 
 
 Whilst he, with ruddy lips and sylvan bluster, 
 
 Crimsons a downy cheek like sunset flushing,
 
 112 THE PICTURE GALLERY. 
 
 But lovelier than the summer evening skies 
 When no stars shine so sparkling as her eyes. 
 
 in. 
 
 And many others madly dance around, 
 Or press luxuriously the flowery bed 
 Which like a fallen rainbow tints the ground 
 Scarlet, and blue, and rose enamelled. 
 While some outworn lie in flush' d sleep, profound 
 As Morpheus there had all his poppies shed, 
 And over them hang thickets, green and deep, 
 Amongst whose rustling leaves the cool winds 
 
 IV. 
 
 But one appears more mighty than the rest. 
 In his rich curls violet and ivy twine, 
 While o'er a visage ruddy as the west 
 Gleams of the God with sudden lustre shine. 
 Close at his feet two crouching pards have prest, 
 Their sleek coats dappled with the stains of wino, 
 While rosy boys present on bended knee 
 His cup to the wide worshipped Deity.
 
 THE PICTTJEE GALLERY. 113 
 
 NUMBER II. 
 
 i. 
 
 A golden lustre mingles with the air 
 
 Where the far mountains melt into the sky, 
 
 On the rich purple tops of those more near 
 In feathery wreaths of gold the vapours lie, 
 
 A light of gold fills the rich atmosphere, 
 Softening all objects to the gazer's eye ; 
 
 Glades, woods, the placid lake, the golden strand, 
 
 As in a dream of some enchanted land. 
 
 In that delicious light a temple stands 
 
 Gracefully touch' d and mellow' d o'er by time, 
 
 With all the rougher traces of his hands 
 Hid by the beautiful flowers of the clime, 
 
 Roses and honeysuckles sweet whose bands 
 Cluster round marble pillars while sublime
 
 114 THE PICTT7EE GAIXBBY. 
 
 Above the fane, the mighty plane tree towers 
 And round it spread thick fragrant myrtle bowers. 
 
 m. 
 On the short sward, age loosen' d from the height 
 
 Of the broad frieze and rich entablature, 
 Lies an ensculptured fragment, spotless white, 
 
 Bedded in wild flowers, thyme, and lilies pure, 
 And dewy violets On that, most bright, 
 
 And lovely forms are moulded such as sure 
 Throng'd round the altars of the Parthenon 
 Hymning a conquest o'er the Persian won. 
 
 IV. 
 
 And now within its lengthen' d shadow sleeps 
 The hoary Patriarch of some Alpine flock ; 
 
 While gamb'ling near him, with short starts and leaps, 
 Two snowy kids sport round that mimic rock 
 
 Where leans the shepherd, whose sweet pipe still keeps 
 Pouring forth notes, that do the sky -larks mock, 
 
 Calling the purpled vintagers from far 
 
 To the glad dance beneath the evening star.
 
 THE PICTURE GALLEEY. 115 
 
 V. 
 
 Their toil is done ; in cheerful groups they're wending 
 Through the cool paths which thread the vineyards 
 green, 
 
 Where ruby fruits and emerald leaves are blending, 
 While the rich sunset showers gold between : 
 
 Now, with the pastoral pipe their songs are blending. 
 And then, the joyous dance while all serene, 
 
 Day fades to twilight but all words are vain 
 
 To paint thy glorious fancies, CLAUDE LOEAINE.
 
 116 THE PICTTJEE GALLEEr. 
 
 NUMBER III. 
 
 SALVATOR ROSA. 
 
 A fearful chasm riven 
 By some earthquake's rending shock, 
 A glance at a stormy Heaven 
 Through the cleft and rugged rock, 
 Shadows cast hy the dusky pines 
 Of the haunted Appenines, 
 Gnarled oaks, with roots all bare, 
 From whose hollow trunks the owl 
 Answers with her shriek the howl 
 Of the gaunt wolf in his lair.
 
 THE PICTTJBE GA1LEEY. 117 
 
 n. 
 
 The rush of a brown stream 
 Through the deep and sullen dell, 
 On whose fierce waves no beam 
 Of sun-shine ever fell ; 
 See it meets the granite masses, 
 Shiver' d from the cliff it passes 
 By the thunder bolts of ages; 
 And full of trouble fury strife, 
 Like the course of an evil life, 
 An endless war it wages. 
 
 in. 
 
 On a vaster fragment, rent 
 From the precipice's crest, 
 Where the stormy clouds once leant 
 And eagles had their nest, 
 Which, with its dark rugged screen, 
 Almost blocks the grim ravine, 
 Sit some wild and war-worn men, 
 Silently watching through the gloom 
 That like a shadow of the tomb 
 Falls o'er the mirky glen.
 
 118 THE PICTURE GALLEEY. 
 
 IV. 
 
 The helmet glimmers there 
 "With many a dint and scar, 
 And the broad buff bandolier, 
 And the pike well proved in war, 
 "With the breast-plate, dim and worn, 
 And the scarf all soiled and torn. 
 With harquebuss and gun 
 Do they guard some outer post 
 Of a royal leaguer's host, 
 For banner they have none ? 
 
 v. 
 
 Look near on those swart brows 
 There beams no martial light ; 
 There are scars of many blows, 
 But where was the field of fight ? 
 Where yon rustic cross is placed 
 Travellers tell their beads in haste ; 
 Saints of Heaven guard them well ! 
 Pray for the souls of those who sleep 
 In the darksome clefts, or the torrent deep 
 Of the BANDITTI'S DELL.
 
 THE PICTUBE GALLEBY. 119 
 
 NUMBER IV. 
 
 GUEBCTNO. 
 
 "Ecce Homo."* 
 
 I. 
 He weeps not for himself he weeps for those 
 
 Who on his gracious head 
 Shower vile contumelies and cruel blows ; 
 
 Better that they were dead, 
 Better, hard men, if you had ne'er been born 
 Than have spoken those fierce words of bitter scorn. 
 
 n. 
 The big tear trickles down his pallid cheek, 
 
 His mild blue eyes look up to Heaven, 
 Those holy lips the blessed accents speak, 
 
 " FATHEB, BE THEY FOBGIVEN," 
 And weeping Angels bear beyond the skies 
 The prayer of the benevolent sacrifice. 
 
 * The exquisite picture at the Palazzo Corsini in Eome.
 
 120 THE PICTtTRE GALLERY. 
 
 They have entwined a rugged thorny crown 
 
 Around hia head and now 
 Drops, darker than his tears, are stealing down 
 
 From his benignant brow. 
 And yet, his deepest grief is still for those 
 The human authors of his matchless woes. 
 
 IT. 
 
 They have made his throne a rough hewn prison block 
 
 A wither'd reed his sceptre. See ! 
 The majesty of his great griefs they mock 
 
 With fearful ribaldry. 
 
 But a day cometh, when each scornful word 
 Shall smite the speaker like a fiery sword. 
 
 Blind men ! within that prison chamber's gloom, 
 
 Star-crowned Cherubim 
 Hover around their Lord though now their bloom, 
 
 Their heavenly bloom is dim,
 
 THE PICTTOE GALLERY. 121 
 
 Their radiance pale, with -watching the deep \voe 
 Which Heaven's anointed deigns to undergo. 
 
 With every throb of pain, that halo bright, 
 
 That crown, which on his throne 
 Dazzles the host of Heaven, glows more bright ; 
 
 But for pure eyes alone. 
 Stubborn mankind, alas ! refuse to see 
 The glory of the suffering Deity. 
 
 But thou, divine GUEBCINO thou did'st see 
 Through all the dimness of that dungeon's gloom, 
 And with the trembling zeal of piety, 
 Hasten'd its glorious sadness to illume ; 
 Pity stood by, and on each lovely hue 
 The gentle shade of sacred sorrow threw : 
 Religion, weeping, yet triumphant there, 
 Over the mournful tablet breath' d a prayer,
 
 122 THE PICTTTBE GALLEBY. 
 
 Fixing a holier light, a sweeter tone 
 
 Than ever came from human art alone. 
 
 With tearful eyes the matchless work we scan, 
 
 And our touch' d hearts repeat " BEHOLD THE MAN."
 
 THE PICTURE GALLERY. 123 
 
 NUMBER Y. 
 
 Great master of all colours that invest 
 
 The evening landscape, when the purple hills 
 
 Lie rich betwixt the gazer and the west, 
 And sparkle with a thousand golden rills, 
 
 Dazzled, I stand before thy gorgeous throne, 
 
 Where, Lord of beautiful hues, thou reign' st alone. 
 
 I see the Virgin Mother mount on high, 
 Dark shadows falling on the saints below, 
 
 Who watch with an adoring ecstacy ; 
 While around HER heav'ns opening glories glow, 
 
 And countless cherubs, till their rich array, 
 
 Innumerous, in thick brightness fades away.
 
 124 THE PICTURE GALLEBY. 
 
 m. 
 As mute as the wrapt group portray' d beneath, 
 
 Shading their eyes from the celestial blaze, 
 I view this chiefest flower of the wreath, 
 
 Which painting flung o'er Adria's proudest days, 
 And gazing, marvel whence the vision came, 
 Which TITIAN here has fix'd in hues of flame. 
 
 rv. 
 Was it in some lone gondola where he 
 
 Lay in poetic musing, while the day 
 Sank o'er Friuli's mountains and the sea, 
 
 Mingling a thousand tints that passed away 
 But to give place to sweeter, that his eyes 
 Drank hues which heaven, and heaven alone, supplies 
 
 v. 
 Or was it gazing from that dizzy tower, 
 
 Whose shadow falls upon a hundred isles, 
 What time the full moon pour'd a silent shower 
 
 Of yellow radiance upon marble piles, 
 Whence, from balconied windows and bright halls, 
 Flash' d mingling lustres on the thronged canals ?
 
 THE PICTUEE GAJXEEY. 125 
 
 VI. 
 
 And yet it matters not we ask not gems 
 
 Whence they derive the glorious beams that shine 
 
 So lustrous in earth's foremost diadems, 
 
 That man scarce credits how the cold dark mine 
 
 E'er held them, more than he conceives 
 
 How the tints came which Titian's pencil weaves.
 
 126 THE PICTTOE GALLEET. 
 
 NUMBER VI. 
 
 i. 
 The sparkling banners of the morn 
 
 Are waving broad and clear, 
 The echoes of the hunting horn 
 
 Are quivering thro' the air, 
 On ruddy autumn leaves the dew 
 
 Is trembling from the sound, 
 As it cheerily rings the rich glades through, 
 
 And circles the brown woods round. 
 Tirala ! Tirala ! let the bugles pour 
 The death note of the dusky boar. 
 
 ii. 
 The bridles clash the boar hounds bay, 
 
 The horses paw the sward, 
 With many a light curvette and neigh, 
 
 Till " Forward ! " is the word ;
 
 THE PICTTTBE GALLEfiY. 127 
 
 Then on they bound with the glad career 
 
 Of a summer sea's green wave, 
 While the gallant riders poise the spear 
 
 And loosen the hunting glaive. 
 Tirala ! Tirala ! let the bugles pour 
 The death note of the dusky boar. 
 
 in. 
 They have found the tusked monster's lair ; 
 
 His fierce rush scatters them back, 
 But they close as quick as parted air, 
 
 And rage upon his track ; 
 With a sound like the meeting of rock and surf, 
 
 Plying the scourge and steel, 
 The chase sweeps on, while the dinted turf 
 
 Gives an earth-born thunder peal. 
 Tirala ! for leagues around the deer 
 Start as that well-known sound they hear. 
 
 rv. 
 He reels from his last deep covert now, 
 
 The foam is on his flanks, 
 But with savage glance, and bristling brow, 
 
 He turns on the hunter's ranks ;
 
 128 THE PICTTTRE GALLERY. 
 
 There 's a moment's pause, as his red eyes glare 
 On the foes that round him pour, 
 
 A snarl a hound and three stout dogs, there, 
 Lie rolling in their gore. 
 
 Forward, gallants ! On to the fray ! 
 
 The forest's terror stands at hay. 
 
 The wood-knives flash, the hugle sounds 
 
 Like soldiers to a storm ; 
 On dash the fierce and fiery hounds, 
 
 And round the monster swarm. 
 Wild sounds of strife and fury ring 
 
 A moment through the glade, 
 Then the boar's blood is glittering 
 
 Upon the hunter's blade. 
 A mort ! a mort ! let the bugles pour 
 The death note of the dusky boar.
 
 THE PICTURE GALLERY. 129 
 
 NUMBER VII. 
 
 Solemn and calm the summer moonlight streams 
 Through the rich gothic window, where its beams 
 Pass soft, commingled with the glorious hues 
 Of the stain' d casement, and a light diffuse 
 Serene, yet of all gorgeous colours blent, 
 On fretted screen and marble monument. 
 Peaceful and soothing is the vesper song, 
 That floats the dim cathedral aisles along ; 
 Now mingling with the organ's royal tone, 
 Now rising sweetly up to Heaven alone. 
 And thus are the creations of a mind, 
 Which had no equal, left no peer behind, 
 Which could perceive and blend in due degree, 
 Grace, sweetness, beauty, saintly piety ; 
 Till, mingling into one all perfect whole, 
 They win the heart, and more absorb the soul.
 
 >0 *HE PICTURE GALLEEY. 
 
 On them we gaze, and worship with a love, 
 Deep, pure, and holy ; such as those above 
 May feel for beings who, beyond the sky, 
 Are brightest in heaven's golden hierarchy.
 
 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS.
 
 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 
 
 A TALE OF THE YEAR 2098. 
 
 YES, my dear Carlos, that reef of rocks barely 
 rising above the surface of the sleeping ocean was 
 Albella, a lofty mountain, terminating a spur of the 
 Great Cordillera, at the foot of which the pleasant 
 Quinta of your grandfather stood, amidst the greenness 
 and perfume of laurels and myrtles, of spice-trees from 
 the Phillipines, and bowery orange groves. Further to 
 the west, there, where the ripple sparkles in the declin- 
 ing sun, is the craggy summit of Pico del Lana, once 
 covered with its canopy of grey clouds from the far 
 south, now the resting place of the gull and the alba- 
 tross, who deposit their eggs in the sandbank which is 
 there accumulated, while the nautilus furls his azure 
 sail beneath the lea of the lonely islet, and its shores 
 are fringed with sea-weeds and glowing shells. You see 
 yonder flight of birds, they are wheeling now between 
 us and that amethystine cloud which seems to hover
 
 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 133 
 
 like some guardian spirit in the blazing path of the de- 
 clining sun : more than two thousand fathoms beneath 
 the spot over which they circle, lies the once magnificent, 
 the proud, the luxurious city of New Panama. Alas 
 and woe ! who are now the denizens of her golden 
 palaces what uncouth monsters of the lowest deep 
 have their sea- weed lair in her marble halls ? There, 
 where I have heard the light laugh of happiness, 
 and the sweet melodies of a thousand charming voices 
 and delicate instruments mingling in the soft breeze, 
 as the silver beacons lighted upon the hill tops by the 
 rising moon called forth all the children of pleasure; 
 there is now the mysterious dumbness of the deep 
 ocean, with desolation and the bones of the dead. 
 
 I have often promised that I would narrate to you the 
 events of that awful, that tremendous day, which while 
 they dispersed the high anticipation of ages, and inflicted 
 a terrible chastisement on the proud presumption of 
 man, left me almost a lonely dweller on this rocky islet. 
 I arose in the morning a mighty noble, the possessor of 
 vast domains which art and nature contributed to render 
 so many terrestrial Paradises ; the beloved master of a 
 numerous tenantry ; the owner of wealth, the limit of
 
 134 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 
 
 which was scarcely known to its possessor ; blessed with 
 youth and health, with dear friends and dear connections; 
 anticipating long years of happiness with a beloved wife, 
 to whose memory I dare even now hardly do more 
 than allude, the father of two lovely infants, and proud 
 (it was a sinful pride) of the numerous advantages of 
 fortune and of station, which united in my destiny. 
 Ere sunset I was a lonely, miserable wretch, over- 
 whelmed with mortal agony, and clinging to existence 
 only that I might live to humiliate myself before Heaven 
 in deep repentance for my past unthinking and criminal 
 presumption. 
 
 I trust that the murmuring spirit has long been 
 chastened within me ; that I can say, with a humble 
 and a true heart, with no discontented repinings after 
 the past, no unworthy fears for the future, "Fiat 
 voluntas tua" But were it not so, did no sense of the 
 duty of submission touch my soul, common reflection 
 would teach me the absurdity of such a miserable worm 
 as I am, pining over his petty griefs, when, alas ! I fear 
 it cannot be otherwise when the day of my own 
 ruin was marked by the desolation of mighty empires, 
 the disappearance of vast kingdoms from the face of the
 
 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCKAXS. 135 
 
 earth ; by a change over the whole surface of the globe 
 which has but too probably reduced mankind, even if 
 any yet survive, to the few individuals who, like 
 myself, were on that terrible day in the highest regions 
 of lofty mountains, and then only in the vicinity of the 
 equator, for elsewhere they must have perished in the 
 ensuing winters. 
 
 It is now twenty-two years and one month since the 
 awful catastrophe occurred. In twenty-two years, I 
 have familiarized myself with the dreadful recollections 
 it inspires ; but I have not spoken much on the subject, 
 even with your precious mother, a common sufferer in 
 that great calamity. We could add but little to each 
 other's knowledge of its terrible details, and such was 
 the awe impressed on our very souls by its occurrence, 
 that we have, as it were by mutual consent, tacitly 
 avoided more than casual references to it, after the 
 first few months of bewildering astonishment, and dreamy 
 horror for we could scarcely believe it to be any 
 thing but a ghastly dream had passed away ; and the 
 fearful certainty that this small islet contained nearly 
 all if not all, the survivors of the human race, became 
 irresistible. Although therefore, you have heard very
 
 136 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 
 
 many allusions to the unparalleled disaster, I have 
 abstained from any lengthened detail which I am still 
 unable to enter upon without pain. It is time, however, 
 that I should communicate all to you; not only in pre- 
 paration for a solemn act of duty, on which I crave 
 God's blessing, but that if countries heaved from the 
 depths of the ocean, or, as is more probable, abandoned 
 by its waves, still remain; the future race of man, while 
 they once more win the forest and morass to fertility 
 and beauty, may not continue ignorant of the real his- 
 tory of that mighty and appalling convulsion whose 
 marks will remain so deeply graven on all around them. 
 I have not omitted fully to record with the utmost 
 minuteness all my recollections of the great catastrophe, 
 but before you peruse the documents which I shall place 
 in your possession, I wish verbally to give you a brief 
 outline of what they more completely describe. 
 
 Sit then, my son, on the edge of this mossy rock, 
 against which, with a gentle sound, ripple the waves 
 that flow above a departed world. The sober glory of 
 this calm sunset shining over the now unbroken solitude 
 of the boundless ocean, the soothing gush of the moun- 
 tain stream, that leaps from rock to rock past our peace-
 
 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 137 
 
 ful dwelling, the gentle whispering of leaves scarcely 
 agitated by the soft breeze, all inspire a composure 
 favourable to the mood of mind in which I would fain 
 communicate my mournful tale : a mood of melancholy 
 yet not desponding resignation ; of firm reliance on that 
 Power whose infinite goodness, notwithstanding apparent 
 exceptions, speaks to us through all nature ; through the 
 balmy air of this serene evening, from beyond the bright 
 calm azure canopy above us, from the sapphire beams 
 of that resplendent star, above all, from the depths of 
 an irresistible conviction in our own souls, whenever we 
 are humble, whenever we are just. Hark ! the evening 
 hymn of your dear sisters and beloved mother, floats 
 sweetly from yonder wooded hollow, where the soft 
 breath of the summer breeze murmurs through shrubs 
 and wild flowers, which still flourish in their simplicity 
 of beauty and fragrance though empires have passed 
 away, and the glorious realms of a hundred climates live 
 in my memory only as beautiful dreams. 
 
 Soothing to the soul is that holy sound; with no 
 pealing harmony to decorate its beauty, no musical 
 thunder of the mighty organ to roll forth with it upon 
 the still air of evening ; but instead, the solemn dash-
 
 138 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 
 
 ings of the everlasting tide, the solemn whisperings of 
 the twilight wood. Let us, my son, join our orisons to 
 those of the pure spirits who pour forth their innocent 
 hearts in love and praise for the only good, and oh, how 
 surpassing great ! which they have ever known. It is 
 a fit prelude to a tale of the nothingness of man ; the 
 infinite might even of the least of those instruments 
 which are permitted to go forth by the Omnipotent, and 
 rebuke the pride of his presumptuous creature. 
 
 More than half a century of warfare had been closed 
 by the Peace of Frankfort. The new European 
 Republics, everywhere triumphant over the misrule and 
 oppression of the past, formed a consolidated and 
 harmonious system. The crust of old prejudices was 
 broken up, and from the chaos arose a thousand springs 
 of mental power which had hitherto wound their way 
 obscurely beneath the superincumbent weight of ancient 
 despotism, or whose force had been misused in its 
 support. Europe stretched her hand to the Americas in 
 union and in love, and the only competition between
 
 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 139 
 
 the old world and the new, for the eighty years which 
 followed that memorable Peace, had been how to turn 
 to the greatest advantage of mankind, the vast power of 
 intelligence, and that prodigious energy, which the 
 general pacification had released from the stern bondage 
 of war and politics. Under these circumstances, 
 schemes for ameli orating the condition of society, 
 especially through the medium of that chiefest of 
 ameliorators, commerce, were in rapid circulation, 
 while the general spread of science and information 
 enabled men readily to reject visionary theories, and 
 ordinarily to follow none but well founded and suffi- 
 ciently matured plans for particular, or for the general 
 welfare. 
 
 I have pointed out to you on our maps the Isthmus 
 of Suez. It was cut through ; the coral rocks of the 
 Red Sea were scattered by explosive forces, or removed 
 by mechanical powers, unknown to the philosophers 
 even of the twentieth century. Majestic fleets stem- 
 med alike the winds and currents, and within a lunar 
 month the produce of Norway or of Holland was landed 
 on the marble quays of the cities of the Indus. Inclined 
 planes, adjusted to a marvellous exactitude which our
 
 140 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 
 
 predecessors would in vain have endeavoured to com- 
 prehend, still less effect, spread to and from the Russian 
 Republics throughout Central Asia; and when the hunter 
 on the Steppes saw vast indistinct masses in quick suc- 
 cession roll past him like dark clouds flying before the 
 breath of the tempest, those were precious cargoes 
 launched, as it were, from Moscow, Astracan or Meshid, 
 and impelled by the impetus of their own weight, un- 
 guided by human hands, along the platina grooves which 
 terminated at Bochara or Tobolsk!. Great Britain and 
 France were united by a vast artificial isthmus covered 
 with nourishing towns. A similar connection spanned 
 the Hellespont, and there brought Europe into contact 
 with Asia. Following or disregarding the rugged 
 windings of the Pyrenees, a great ship canal united the 
 Mediterranean and the Atlantic ; while in our own 
 hemisphere communication was so rapid, that a travel- 
 ler leaving that splendid city of the kingdom of Virginia 
 which I have pointed out to you in your maps as 
 Franklin, might reach the shores of the Pacific on the 
 third day. 
 
 You will believe, my son, that amongst other vast 
 achievements one was not uncontemplated which had so
 
 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 141 
 
 often excited and baffled the energies of Nations : I 
 mean that union of the Pacific and Atlantic Oceans, to 
 which nature has in all ages since the dawn of science 
 and the discovery of the New "World, appeared to demand 
 the attention of mankind. It was a problem continually 
 presented for solution, and alas ! how has it been solved r 
 Several attempts to connect the two seas had already 
 been made and failed ; or if they can be said to have 
 succeeded, it was upon a scale wholly insignificant, and 
 in a manner offering no vast practical advantage to the 
 world at large. The petty steam vessels of our ancestors 
 might track a precarious course from one Ocean to the 
 other, through scooped rocks, and by feeding their canals 
 from the channels of uncertain rivers ; but this was not 
 the desideratum. Two efforts on a more imposing scale 
 had been made, immediately prior to that great war 
 which for more than half a century filled the earth, and 
 like the hurricane to which it bore the aptest resem- 
 blance, purified the moral atmosphere, until at its sub- 
 sidence each star in the galaxy of human intelligence 
 sparkled with a more surpassing lustre, each flower of 
 life bloomed with greater beauty than ever. Those 
 efforts also failed.
 
 142 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEAIfS. 
 
 After the Peace of Frankfort, the granite rocks of 
 the isthmus, which connected the two great divisions of 
 America, were again viewed as a fortress on whose bat- 
 tlements nature hung out her banners of defiance to 
 brave and tempt the assaults of art. Not only indivi- 
 duals and great commercial bodies became warmly 
 interested in the project for dividing the isthmus so 
 effectually as to give a ready passage to the vast arks 
 which then burdened the ocean; but entire empires, 
 laying aside all thought of rivalry, and assuming instead 
 a spirit of generous emulation, prepared to forward, 
 and devoted the energies of nations to the accomplish- 
 ment of an object, apparently fraught with such 
 inestimable benefits to mankind. 
 
 I have intimated, my son, that no ordinary excava- 
 tion, following the lakes and narrow course of streams 
 amongst the hills of Darien no straitened canal no 
 limited cut, would serve for the passage of those mighty 
 vessels which, towards the middle of the twenty-first 
 century, bade defiance to the storms and the billows of 
 the ocean. The plans and delineations I have shown 
 you, supply no adequate idea of those vast masses which 
 propelled through the flashing waves like floating
 
 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 143 
 
 islands, and with the swiftness of the bonita darting 
 upon his prey, were announced on the verge of the 
 extreme horizon, hy the cloud of foam and vapour, 
 which the mighty bows of the advancing vessel threw 
 high up into the clear air like the first smoke-burst of a 
 volcanic eruption. Ocean seemed to groan beneath 
 their weight, and miles of snowy foam, wheeling in 
 sparkling vortices and mimic whirlpools, told for hours 
 of the passage of the great ship. 
 
 Nor when reposing in our harbours, delivering and 
 receiving the wealth of kingdoms, were those glorious 
 creations of human jpower and intelligence less worthy 
 of admiration ; even the familiar habit of seeing those 
 monsters of science, failed to remove the awe with 
 which they impressed a contemplative or enthusiastic 
 mind. The billows of the fiercest tempests of the tropics 
 moved those far-spreading and solid masses no more than 
 the ripple of some quiet river could affect the mightiest 
 war vessels of our forefathers. The hurricane, as it 
 howled in impotent fury over their decks, was unheeded 
 as much as the lightest breeze of the Mediterranean 
 would have been disregarded of yore by the four-decked 
 Hag ship of a Spanish Admiral, llocks and shoals, those
 
 144 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 
 
 terrors of the ancient mariner, were no longer objects 
 of apprehension. A thousand feelers of elastic metal, 
 like the gigantic arms of the great sea Polypus, stretched 
 far on all sides from the bottom of the vessel, and the 
 first touch of a hidden danger instantly communicated 
 to the whole prodigious machinery, a retrogade power 
 and motion sufficient to counteract the most rapid way 
 of the advancing ship. In ports and in shallow water, 
 where she might anchor, these mighty arms were folded 
 to her side like the wings of a reposing bird, and 
 became imperceptible. The deadly leak again, and fire, 
 the most insidious and the most awful enemies of old navi- 
 gation, were never thought of. In our invulnerable float- 
 ing islands all the particles of the immense fabric, how- 
 ever minute, were air-tight metallic tubes; of those, 
 layer within layer formed the hull of the giant ship. 
 Every knee, every beam, every plank of the deck, to 
 use the ancient terms of the ship builder's art, was 
 similarly composed ; and supposing for a moment the 
 possibility that such a vessel could be stranded or 
 oppressed by the fury of the elements, a few strokes of 
 an enormous exhausting machine, constructed for the 
 purpose, emptied each tube of the atmospheric air
 
 THK JUNCTION OF THE OCKANS. 145 
 
 which was ordinarily allowed to remain in it, thereby 
 forming a perfect vacuum, and instantly the vast hull 
 became buoyant almost to rising from the surface of the 
 sea. Deeply interesting indeed was the sight of one of 
 these leviathans anchoring with her incalculable freight, 
 and with many thousand souls on board, bent on business 
 or roaming for pleasure to the several ports whither 
 she was bound. The shops, the hotels, the theatres, 
 the markets, the baths, the places of public worship, 
 the police, the various offices of magistrates, and others 
 vested with the government of this microcosm (some 
 vessels even bore gardens of great beauty) ; would no 
 longer permit one to consider the huge fabric as a ship 
 floating on the surface of the ocean, but rather as some 
 maritime town, against whose bulwarks, and on whose 
 piers the billows thundered in vain. 
 
 It was greatly with a view to facilitate the com- 
 mercial transactions carried on to so prodigious an 
 extent, and so rapidly, by means of these grand vessels, 
 that the determination to pierce through the country 
 to the south of the Isthmus of Daricn a channel of 
 sufficient width and depth to admit of their uninter- 
 rupted passage, was finally adopted.
 
 146 THE JUNCTION OF TffE OCEANS. 
 
 From Port Napoleon to New Panama, a tract of 
 country which the singular alteration of climates that 
 occurred in the middle of the twentieth century, and 
 the clearance of the mangrove and bamboo woods, had 
 converted into one of the most salubrious spots in the 
 world, a line was traced chiefly in the valleys and 
 along the courses of the streams which wound amidst 
 our gigantic heights A million of workmen exhausted 
 the powers of human labor and of mechanical aids in 
 excavating a vast canal through the granite roots of the 
 Northern Andes. You may have some idea of its enor- 
 mous magnitude, when I tell you that it was more than 
 five Spanish leagues in breadth, for a less space would 
 not have provided for the passage of two of those vast 
 ships, meeting in their transit from the two oceans 
 whose waters were destined to commingle in this 
 huge basin. 
 
 Never was there a more sublime spectacle it was the 
 triumph of human art and power and intellect its 
 greatest and its last. Mountains of granite were hurled 
 in the air by the explosive force of ignited gases, and 
 their huge fragments removed with a rapidity which 
 seemed rather the work of magic, of that genii force you
 
 T11K JUXCTIOX OF THE OCEAXS. 147 
 
 have road of in Arabian fables, than of the limited means 
 of the human race. Rivers were turned, and streams 
 damned into magnificent lakes, which formed temporary 
 basins for the vessels desiring to unload their freights on 
 the great canal. In some places enormous arches were 
 carried across valleys, which the unrecorded convulsions 
 of nature had sunk far below the level of the oceans, 
 with a boldness to which the mightiest works of old 
 were but timid trifling. They spanned black ravines 
 and chasms to whose depths no sun-beam had ever 
 penetrated, and hung in air at such a height that the 
 condor and the eagle built their nests beneath them. 
 Over these bridges were to flow the waters of the Atlantic 
 and the Pacific, and not alone, but bearing on their 
 heaving waves, the gigantic ships I have described. 
 The wealth of Europe, of Asia, and the Americas was 
 lavishly poured forth to accomplish this crowning work 
 of civilization ; a triumph more sacred than all the glories 
 of the most glorious war ; a triumph of peace over the 
 strife and rivalry of ages : and while the means of success 
 were profusely supplied, even those were multiplied, in a 
 vast ratio, by the science and sagacity with which they 
 were wielded. You would have thought that the beau- 
 
 L2
 
 148 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 
 
 tiful city of Xew Panama, at which the Pacific was to 
 enter the canal, had become by common consent the 
 capital of the arts, and the centre of earthly science. 
 
 The congregated philosophers of the two hemispheres 
 were either engaged in conducting the gigantic work in 
 progress, in studying the mineralogical and geological 
 facts which its advance naturally brought to light, or in 
 speculating on those results, so interesting to humanity 
 and civilization, which would attend its completion. 
 
 " Here, at length," they said, " is the last connecting 
 link which will so closely unite mankind that the most 
 opposite kingdoms of the globe shall be less remote 
 from each other than were the neighbouring states 
 of former ages. Here is that which shall communicate 
 civilization and science, the products and the intel- 
 ligence of nations, no longer slowly, and as streams 
 born in the mountains traverse and intersect the plains 
 which they only gradually enrich, but as those majestic 
 rivers which rising to the voice of the season at once 
 overflow their banks, spreading wealth and fertility 
 over whole continents." 
 
 Surely there was something prophetical in the terms 
 of this prediction !
 
 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 149 
 
 But the work proceeded. The representatives of the 
 must potent and powerful states were stationed at New 
 Panama to control the expenditure of the enormous 
 sums advanced by their respective Republics. Again, in 
 addition to the men of science, multitudes were drawn 
 to the spot by curiosity, and by the festivities which 
 naturally arose in the neighbourhood of such lavish 
 expenditure. The streets of New Panama presented 
 a perpetual carnival, nor were wanting what seemed 
 the mimic costumes appropriate to that season, for 
 there were assembled the people of nearly every civi- 
 lized state on earth, each in his national garb, and 
 bringing with him his national peculiarities. But it 
 was the reign of perfect order; for not only were men 
 profitably occupied or amused, but they yielded them- 
 selves to the brightest and most gorgeous anticipations 
 of the future. All day the distant roar of explosions 
 amongst the mountains, the passing to and fro of 
 immense engines, the busy consultations held by Boards 
 of Science, the departure and arrival of the superintend- 
 ing engineers, and the joyous aspects of thriving work- 
 men who came into the city, perhaps for a day of 
 recreation or to meet some newly arrived countrymen,
 
 150 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 
 
 announced the reign of cheerful labor, looking forward 
 with confidence to the completion of a glorious under- 
 taking. 
 
 At night the artificial thunder ceased to shake the 
 hills, and ten thousand distant fires hanging on their 
 dark sides pointed out the encampments of the labourers, 
 and gleamed like living rubies in the pearly lustre of 
 the tropical moonlight, or shot up red beams far into the 
 heavens, when the stars alone ruled their dark blue 
 depth. Then awoke the voice of revelry and music in 
 the city, and from the countless delicious Quintas in its 
 charming neighbourhood. The streets and squares, 
 thronged with a glad multitude, were in a blaze of 
 illumination ; while the country-houses of the gentry, 
 where the most princely hospitality prevailed during 
 the whole period, beamed brightly, but with a softened 
 lustre, as the variegated lights of all hues streamed 
 forth, through rare exotics, from amidst groves and 
 bowers of oranges, of lilacs, and of jasmin, twined round 
 the stems of gigantic aloes in their most brilliant bloom ; 
 or were reflected by sparkling fountains, or by the still 
 transparent waters which slept black and unrippled in 
 basins of jasper and porphery, and spotless marble.
 
 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 151 
 
 Alfred, I have often viewed the scene from this very 
 spot. Bright as the sun of another system, high blazed 
 the illumination of the gorgeous city, till the passing 
 night-clouds reflected the glow like masses of burnished 
 silver. Around glanced the soft pale lights from the 
 Quintas, embosomed in beautiful groves through whose 
 ever- verdant foliage the emerald radiance streamed with 
 a quiet lustre. Further landward, circle beyond circle, 
 spread the crimson flames of the camp fires on the 
 purple ridges of the mountains, in the dark recesses of 
 the cork and chesnut woods, on the verge of granite 
 precipices, and by rushing torrents, which, as they 
 sprang from rock to rock down the sides of rugged hills, 
 reflected the red gleams in long broken flashes. 
 
 It cannot be supposed, however, that in the midst of 
 so great a multitude there were no minds less sanguine 
 than the rest ; some who from habit looked upon the 
 great work in progress with constitutional indiflerence, 
 others whose thoughts assumed even a gloomy covering, 
 and foreboded evil from its completion. Neither was it 
 to be denied that circumstances occurred, such as a 
 vivid fancy might not unnaturally connect with the 
 operations in progress, though by no visible or tangible
 
 152 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 
 
 link; circumstances, in short, which in a less enlightened 
 age, would have given a colour to superstitious presen- 
 timents, and awakened those vague fancies perpetually 
 laying in wait, as it were, for imaginative minds. I 
 remember well when the President of the great council 
 of delegates, speaking the will of remote and mighty 
 nations, gave his final and formal assent to the com- 
 mencement of the canal. It was a glorious day in 
 spring, without a cloud to chequer the serene splendour 
 of the azure heavens, while a delicious breeze just 
 rustled amongst the leaves of the blossom-laden trees, 
 and rippled the sparkling waves of the Pacific till they 
 broke in silver curls upon the beach. All at once, as 
 the President attached his name to the decree, there 
 was a sudden darkness, as if a thunder-cloud was pass- 
 ing over the sun ; it was like the lurid dusk of a total 
 eclipse. Many people left the senate house to ascertain 
 the cause of this phenomenon, and they found the gaze 
 of those in the streets, steadfastly directed to the sun, 
 while others were pouring from their houses with 
 marks of dismay and astonishment. 
 
 I was amongst those who left the chamber of delegates, 
 in which I represented the Cuban Republic, and I can
 
 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 153 
 
 scarcely describe what I saw on reaching the street. 
 Though the atmosphere was free from the lightest 
 vapour, there was no difficulty in gazing directly at the 
 orb of the sun : it was shorn of its insupportable lustre, 
 and looked in the midst of the calm and cloudless heavens, 
 like a large pale meteor : but the more strange pheno- 
 menon was, that it appeared instinct with life, I should 
 rather say with corruption, for it resembled a moving, 
 heaving mass, moving with that loathsome writhing 
 motion which you might have seen in a knot of vipers 
 or earth-worms, while every now and then there seemed 
 to gush from it a sort of deep purple mist of a colour 
 darker than blood, which after hanging around the pale 
 orb for a few seconds dispersed, and as it were melted 
 away in surrounding space, or was absorbed again into 
 the globe of dim and colourless fire. This appearance 
 lasted nearly a quarter of an hour, during which the 
 birds sat cowering and silent, beneath the cornices of 
 buildings, and under the boughs of trees, while the 
 howling of the wild animals in the neighbouring moun- 
 tains was distinctly audible in the city, where our awe 
 was voiceless; at the same time, a gigantic condor, 
 grasping a mangled sea eagle in his iron talons, fell dead
 
 154 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 
 
 in the great square. But the terrible appearance of the 
 sun slowly departed, men drew their breath again, and 
 that evening, to the sound of a thousand trumpets, 
 amidst the roar of cannon and the shouts of a countless 
 multitude, the President struck the first stroke in the 
 great work, with a pick-axe of pure gold. 
 
 There were not wanting in so great a multitude, 
 people who considered the supernatural appearance of 
 the sun as a prognostic of coming evil, but the less 
 credulous, or more enlightened smiled at their dreams 
 still a singular impression continued, I cannot say on 
 the public mind, for the mass of mankind anticipated 
 unmixed good from the union of the two oceans, but on 
 the minds of many. Some declared that in the silence 
 of midnight, when the waves were asleep, and no night 
 breeze ruffled their repose, deep groans and hollow 
 murmurs were heard on the sea shore, nay, far out at 
 sea, startling the wakeful mariner who looked in vain 
 upon the starlight sky and the calm waves for a solu- 
 tion of the phenomenon. 
 
 Again, men said, that at high noon, when not a 
 breath moved the loftiest boughs of the mountain cedar, 
 deep sighs were heard in the forest, and the workmen,
 
 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 155 
 
 as they reposed beneath the shade of the great trees, 
 were startled by loud, unearthly waitings. These 
 rumours, however, were naturally treated as the off- 
 spring of vulgar credulity, a mere continuation of the 
 excitement created by the singular appearance of the 
 sun on the day of ratification. 
 
 " What," said Sariola, Behlere Le Gage, Von Wedlon, 
 Ellar, the great engineer Stelforth, and a host of less 
 eminent philosophers, "what is there to apprehend? 
 The respective levels of the two oceans have been 
 measured to the fraction of a line, and to fancy that any 
 material geological or geographical change can result 
 from their union is a demonstrable absurdity." 
 
 Even those who felt an apprehension, not the less 
 perplexing because they could neither define its nature 
 nor trace it to any reasonable source, were soothed by 
 the arguments, or convinced by the illustrations, or 
 shrunk from the ridicule of the philosophers ; and the 
 mighty work went on. 
 
 For my own part, I was too well versed in the 
 physical science of the age, too devout a believer in the 
 perfection of mechanics, to do more than smile at the 
 various idle rumours which would fain connect some-
 
 156 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 
 
 thing beyond the ordinary laws of nature with a very 
 grand, but yet very mechanical, demonstration of the 
 powers of art. I placed it to the score of human 
 vanity, which would persuade itself, like the heroes of 
 Homer, that superior influences were interested in the 
 earthly aspirations, the earthly hopes, and the earthly 
 cares of man. Alas, how has my vain imagination, my 
 pride of knowledge, my presumptuous confidence been 
 rebuked. 
 
 The haughtiness of philosophy refused to recognize in 
 the human mind an anticipative faculty more true than 
 the most forecasting calculations of science; yet in 
 inferior animals, in their never falsified perceptions of 
 many physical calamities, of the coming earthquake, the 
 approaching hurricane, the advancing drought or pesti- 
 lence, we might have recognized and studied the exist- 
 ence of a sense, the possession of which by a superior 
 rank in the scale of creation we choose to question, 
 rather than bend our pride to the avowal, that its exist- 
 ence baffles our investigation. The book of nature was 
 open before us : we might have paused at the mysterious 
 analogy between the feelings which perplexed us and 
 the inexplicable terror of inferior creatures, dismally
 
 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 157 
 
 foretelling the approaching earthquake ere it springs 
 from the unknown depths in which it slumbers to an 
 awful life, while the keenest efforts of science, the most 
 profound exertion of reason can trace no sign of its 
 advent we might, I say, have paused at this mysterious 
 analogy between the dumb fear of the brute creation and 
 that undefined trembling which filled many souls, (who 
 yet strove against it with all the weapons of pride and 
 reason,) at the prospect of that mighty union of two 
 oceans which the kingdoms of the earth were labouring 
 to complete. But our eyes were blinded, our hearts were 
 hardened by the glories of mechanics, by the past triumphs 
 of human science, and the gigantic work went on 
 Gigantic, indeed ; for remember, Carlos, it was no silver 
 thread we traced through green and sunny glades, like 
 the puny canals which once gave fame to the engineer, 
 and wealth to the noble of the old world ; but a mighty 
 chasm, many leagues in length and breadth, to be pierced 
 through enduring barriers of solid granite, against which 
 from the beginning of time the storms of two fathomless 
 oceans had hurled their clouds and their thunderbolts in 
 vain. 
 
 I had from the dawn of manhood been an enthusiast
 
 158 THE JTTNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 
 
 in the chase the chase in its noblest form. There was 
 that in seeking the puma in its lair, in rousing the 
 savage condor from its inaccessible cliff, which stirred 
 the deepest springs of my life blood with a thrilling 
 delight I loved to breathe, as the English poet sang, 
 
 " The difficult air of the iced mountain's top," 
 
 in pursuit of this my favourite pastime : to track the 
 bear through the storm as it broke in sleet and thunder 
 on the granite peaks of the mighty Cordillera, or to 
 follow the crouching wolf, as he pursued his stealthy 
 flight through the dingles and deep shadows of the 
 forest. I was frequently bewildered and benighted 
 during these perilous excursions, until at length two or 
 three narrow escapes, and the entreaties of dear friends, 
 induced me to make ample provision against the last, 
 as, at particular periods of the year, it was the worst 
 of those misfortunes. I possessed an estate called 
 Kitales, situated at a great elevation and comprising a 
 few square miles of picturesque mountain scenery, 
 about a league and a half from the city. Carlos, look 
 around you. Perhaps that then comparatively barren 
 and valueless spot, the least productive, the least thought
 
 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 159 
 
 of, amongst many wide and fertile domains ; bears now, 
 a lonely island in the ocean, all the survivors of the 
 countless race of man, all that still exists of human care 
 or culture, or civilization, on the face of the earth. 
 This, Carlos, this is Bitales. 
 
 I have said that my estate was situated about a 
 league and a half from the city, in a direct line with that 
 tract of the lower Andes where I chiefly hunted ; it was 
 therefore convenient for me to make it a starting-point 
 in the morning ; and it was no less favourably situated 
 for establishing a hunting lodge from which I might 
 set forth, or which would give me shelter at night, 
 when fatigue or the state of the weather, made an 
 additional league and a half of precipitous and broken 
 mountain paths, an object for consideration even to a 
 practised hunter. By degrees my lodge grew into a 
 large rustic villa, elegantly, if not luxuriously fitted up, 
 and provided with all that could render hours passed in 
 solitude agreeable an ample library, pictures, the 
 instruments of philosophy, and those of amusement. 
 A high massive cliif, clothed with the splendid creepers 
 of the climate, and bending round the dwelling in the 
 form of a vast horse-shoe, preserved it from the violence
 
 160 THE JraCTION OF THE OCEAXS. 
 
 of the mountain winds, and still more completely from 
 the southern and western gales which at times swept 
 the wide Pacific. This perfect shelter at so high an 
 elevation, not only enabled me to fill an extensive garden 
 with the rare and delicate flowers of both hemispheres, 
 but to bring to the highest perfection all the superior 
 class of vegetables in the enclosed space. By degrees, 
 I established a farm, to the eastward of the house, 
 in order to give occupation to the few domestics, whom 
 I retained on the spot. Granaries were scooped in the 
 cliff, with stabling for the cattle, and fantastic grottos, 
 which I ornamented with spars and mosses, and foun- 
 tains, fed from the higher summits of the neighbouring 
 hills, which bubbled up through beautiful sea-shells. 
 They were then indeed of little utility, how thankful 
 have I been in their possession since ! But they were 
 always pleasant quiet spots, deliciously cool during the 
 heat of the day, and acceptable retreats to the many 
 friends who occasionally accompanied me up the moun- 
 tains, either to hunt, or to breathe the lighter air, and 
 enjoy the superb view. Superb indeed it was ! 
 
 On the left, spread the glorious Pacific, until its 
 azure waves mingled with the canopy of heaven, and
 
 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 161 
 
 the eye sought in vain some line of horizon to mark 
 where the empire of the waters ceased, and that of air, 
 began. On a still night, we could even hear the hoarse 
 murmur of the waves many thousand feet beneath us. 
 A few yards beyond the extensive lawn, and in sight 
 from my verandah, which was thick with clustering 
 jasmin and honeysuckle and China roses, the passion 
 flower, and the sweet leaves of the vanilla, rushed a full 
 mountain stream clearer than crystal ; and flinging high 
 its sparkling foam as it dashed from one petty clifi" to 
 another, its bright glancings could be traced far down 
 amongst the mountains, and led the eye onward in the 
 direction of the splendid city. 
 
 That city, reposing as it were amidst groves of per- 
 petual verdure was a glorious spectacle ; with its majes- 
 tic Acropolis hanging high in the glittering air, its vast 
 public edifices, its magnificent squares, its broad pellucid 
 river catching the golden tints of morning on its quiet 
 breast, while fountains, and columns and domes, and 
 spires shot up on all sides in the early sunshine, like 
 jets of silver flame. Its wealth, position, population, 
 intelligence, all seemed prepared, in combination with 
 nature, to render it the commercial capital of the East
 
 162 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 
 
 and West, and the great connecting link between the 
 four quarters of the globe. From our elevated position 
 in that clear atmosphere, and with the marvellous 
 telescopes of Morand and Ecroquez, with whose powers 
 you have become familiar, Carlos, as we have watched 
 the great planetary systems of Sirius and Aldebaran, we 
 could look down upon it as on a panoramic map ; criti- 
 cise the architecture of each edifice, and trace the 
 windings of every strada, nay, without difficulty recog- 
 nise the equipages of our friends, as they moved along 
 the streets, or themselves, as they sauntered through the 
 sweet shades of their charming villa gardens. "With the 
 same ease we could trace the course of the vast excava- 
 tion from the great plain which bordered the bay close 
 to the city, for many, many miles, as turning to the 
 north and east, it wound its way amongst the mountains ; 
 now lost amidst woods and cliffs, then again seen afar off; 
 a black, vast, chasm ; more like the rent left in earth's 
 crust by some tremendous earthquake than the work of 
 man. 
 
 Again, the mountains themselves, the sea of moun- 
 tains, through which it was cleft, were beautiful objects ; 
 the nearest and least elevated clad in nature's livery of
 
 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 163 
 
 everlasting verdure, or rich with the vineyards and 
 maize fields which reposed in sunny luxuriance on their 
 swelling slopes ; those more remote and loftier, mingling 
 the purple granite of cliffs and rocky masses with the 
 deeper green of majestic woods, while the misty blue of 
 the furthest range, as the rugged outline occasionally 
 sank down at some abrupt angle, shewed a faint regular 
 streak of the palest azure ; it was that gulph or great 
 bay of the Atlantic known as the Caribbean Sea. Alas ! 
 why do I pause upon these recollections. Our dwel- 
 lings, Carlos, still stand beneath the far spread shelter- 
 ing cliffs ; in those shady grottos now play or rest the 
 children of my heart : but where are those, the kind, the 
 good, the glad of spirit, whose cheerful laugh has been 
 so often echoed by those hoary rocks ? The sparkling 
 stream, still gathering its living waters in the higher 
 regions of our mountain isle, dashes fresh and lustrous 
 past the green lawn but how brief its course my eye 
 follows it as of yore, and imagination still conjures up 
 the intermediate dells, the far off city. A murmur fills 
 my ear, it is what the English Milton so beautifully calls, 
 
 " The busy hum of men." 
 Alas, it is the meeting of that poor stream after a
 
 164 THE TOfCTIOX OF THE OCEANS. 
 
 career as brief as it is bright, with the waves of the 
 boundless ocean, which roughly dash it back, almost at 
 my very feet. 
 
 On the third of May, in the year of grace two thou- 
 sand and ninety-eight, it was announced by the Presi- 
 dent of that august Assembly of Delegates from the 
 nations who had assisted in the mighty work, that the 
 labours of six years were happily terminated. Two 
 boundless oceans were prevented from mingling their 
 waves only by the artificial barriers against which they 
 leant, but which would cease to exist at the mandate of 
 the Assembly. 
 
 " Your decree is alone wanting, gentlemen," said 
 the venerable Las Pares, " your decree is alone wanting 
 to unite for ever through this magnificent channel the 
 waters of the Pacific and the Atlantic. We have 
 opened a new highway for the march of civilization 
 and human happiness we have achieved a mighty 
 victory, and if our conquest has only been effected at a 
 cost exceeding that of many wars, it is unsullied by 
 those griefs which dim the brightest triumphs of 
 politics, while it surpasses them alike in boundless 
 utility and true glory."
 
 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 165 
 
 The tenth of May was finally decided upon for the 
 opening of the great canal. Countless multitudes had 
 assembled from all quarters of the globe to witness so 
 magnificent a ceremony. The country was covered 
 with vast encampments, for the cities and villages 
 could no longer contain the host of strangers assembled 
 by the event. A statistical author of eminence, Millar 
 of Philadelphia, told me that he had taken considerable 
 pains to ascertain the probable number of individuals 
 congregated at the most interesting spectacle that had 
 ever been presented to mankind ; his impression was, 
 that they exceeded rather than fell short of four mil- 
 lions. Perhaps the human race had never gathered 
 together on one spot, in such numbers, or on so sublimo 
 an occasion. 
 
 On the morning of the ninth of May, a peasant 
 brought me information that a wolf of peculiar size and 
 ferocity, and which had for some time past been re- 
 nowned for his ravages in the mountain farms, had been 
 traced to a woody dell, a few miles to the south of my 
 hunting seat. As he only occasionally made his appear- 
 ance, probably from some remote quarter to which he 
 retired after his slaughtering inclinations were satiated,
 
 166 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 
 
 and had hitherto baffled all the efforts of our best hunters 
 to destroy him, I was very anxious to take advantage of 
 his having been marked, lest in the course of the follow- 
 ing night he should steal back to the unknown retreat 
 from whence he made his bloody visitations. I there- 
 fore went off immediately, promising to return the same 
 evening ; or if I found that impracticable, to sleep at my 
 lodge, and reach the city at a very early hour on the 
 following day. I kissed my wife and my children, bade 
 a cheerful adieu to my friends, and left them with a 
 laughing assurance, that I was proceeding to provide a 
 solemn and appropriate sacrifice to the spirit of peace 
 and good- will, which the event of to-morrow would 
 tend to spread so largely over the habitable globe. 
 
 " Nay," said I, "I will cast my wolf upon the first 
 wave of the Pacific which enters the great canal, and he 
 shall float to the Atlantic, a symbol of departed strife, 
 rapacity, and violence." 
 
 My Marianna seemed depressed, but she could assign 
 no cause for her depression. She rarely interfered with 
 an amusement for which she knew my strong partiality, 
 beyond an occasional gentle caution, and now and then 
 a hint at the unfavourable state of the weather, which I
 
 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 167 
 
 was frequently too happy to accept as an excuse 
 for remaining with her. On the present occasion, 
 though her beautiful face had a pensive, perhaps 
 an anxious expression, her cheek was paler, and her 
 eyes less softly bright than usual, she urged no word 
 against my departure ; on the contrary, when, fancying 
 that she was not well, I pulled oif my hunting-cap and 
 said, " I will not go to-day, Marianna," she replied, 
 "By no means. It is very strange, for the first 
 time in my life, I feel desirous that you should 
 go ; perhaps the ravages committed by this horrid 
 creature on the flocks of the poor people of the 
 mountains, influence me to wish that he should not 
 escape you. Truly, Carlos, you will be a Theseus, a 
 Hercules in the opinion of these poor farmers, if you 
 accomplish an exploit in which our hardiest hun- 
 ters have failed; at all events do not stay on my 
 account. I am really well, but depressed, I know not 
 why, it is foolish; but, dear Carlos," she smilingly 
 added, " your return, a conqueror and benefactor, will 
 console me for your brief absence, and I shall meet you 
 quite restored in spirits and in health." 
 
 Carlos, we never met more. That wife those sweet
 
 168 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEAXS. 
 
 children, whose infancy was as dear to me as your o\m 
 my noble-hearted relatives my kind, good friends 
 Carlos, we met no more. 
 
 Leaving my carriages at the foot of the mountain, near 
 one of whose purple summits my hunting-seat shone 
 afar off like a star, I ascended as usual on horseback ; 
 some chasseurs and other servants were in attendance 
 at the lodge, and in half an hour, I sallied forth fully 
 equipped to track and combat the savage enemy. En- 
 counters with more formidable antagonists were events 
 of too frequent recurrence to leave any great appre- 
 hension on my mind as to the result of my present 
 expedition. I was really more anxious to find and kill 
 the wolf because he was an annoyance to my tenantry, 
 than because I attached any particular credit as a 
 sportsman to the exploit itself. 
 
 We had a wearisome chase, however, and it was not 
 until near dusk that our savage and crafty antagonist, 
 was brought to bay. Two balls in his gaunt body did 
 not prevent his flying with a strength nearly equal to 
 his ferocity at my throat. I was prepared for this, as I 
 always fired at the great wolf of the mountains with my 
 hunting sash fastened tight round my left arm, and then
 
 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 169 
 
 dropping my gun if he was close, stood ready for his 
 rush with a broad double-edged dagger in my right 
 hand. On the present occasion, I received my adver- 
 sary as usual on the protected arm, and plunged my 
 poignard up to the hilt in his heart ; but the ground had 
 been rendered slippery by a cold mountain mist, which 
 had enveloped us during the last hour of the chase, and 
 in the exertion of striking home, I fell. On attempting 
 to rise, I discovered that I had strained my ancle rather 
 severely, and although the simple remedies of the moun- 
 tain peasantry, used to such accidents, were immediately 
 applied, I was still unable to walk without great 
 pain. I reached my hunting seat with difficulty, and 
 so late, in consequence of my accident, that a return to 
 New Panama that night was out of the question. 
 Indeed, I felt that I could not sit my mule had it been 
 earlier, and was moreover quite assured that it would 
 not be possible for me to attend the august ceremony of 
 the morrow ; but my regret on this account was not very 
 profound. It had often occurred to me that the sublime 
 spectacle would be even more sublime from the summit 
 of my mountain, commanding as it were a view of both 
 oceans, and from which the course of the vast canal
 
 170 THE JTTNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 
 
 could be traced for so great a distance through so many 
 of its gigantic windings my mind was therefore made 
 up at once. I wrote to Marianna, giving her an account 
 of my trifling accident, and begging that with those of 
 our friends who felt disposed to accompany her, she 
 would join me the following morning at the lodge, 
 before the hour appointed for opening the canal. At 
 the same time, unwilling to deprive my servants of the 
 more tangible pleasures they anticipated below, where 
 wines were to flow from a thousand fountains, and all 
 the other preparations for popular rejoicing had been 
 made on a vast scale, I desired that excepting a few 
 who would attend their mistress to the hill, they would 
 use their own discretion in remaining at Panama, or 
 coming to the lodge. Those already with me had a 
 similar option given to them, and when I dispensed 
 with their attendance for the night nearly the whole 
 establishment availed themselves of it to proceed to 
 the city ; Domingo, a fine young mulatto, his mother, 
 and one page alone remaining. Indeed, this was but 
 natural, even the people of the mountain villages 
 had descended, or would descend early in the morn- 
 ing, to witness the approaching solemnity; and in
 
 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 171 
 
 the course of the day's chase, I had found it very 
 difficult to procure sufficient assistance to turn the 
 wolf from the different passes and drive him back upon 
 myself. 
 
 All my servants, excepting those I have mentioned, 
 had departed. It was a heavenly night I sat reading, 
 while the old negress bathed my ancle with a decoction 
 of soothing simples, it was already much better. She 
 sung, and the sound was as faint as the sound in dreams, 
 a low and mournful, not unmelodious song ; some 
 wild American air, half religious, half a witch rhyme ; 
 thus she sung as she proceeded in her ministry. It 
 harmonized with the rustling of the trees in my garden, 
 with the murmur of the stream, and the deep monotonous 
 voice of the Pacific rolling in upon the beach, far, very 
 far below us. Through the open bay window of my 
 library in which I sat, the gentle wind brought in the 
 fresh delicious perfume of the roses, which had been 
 trained in thick clustering masses from base to summit 
 round every pillar of the verandah, while each interstice 
 in the trellis work was filled by white and yellow 
 jasmin, vanilla and passion flowers. Beyond, amidst 
 emerald plots of short grass and mosses, the lilac, the
 
 172 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 
 
 laburnum, the Indian baubul, the geranium, the aloe, 
 and the orange flower, lent their sweetness to the breath 
 of the starry night. 
 
 Oh how starry ! how clear ! how beautiful ! or do I 
 think so now, because it was the last to millions upon 
 millions who then reposed peaceful, happy, full of hope, 
 full of life, and all life's blessings beneath its bright and 
 silent canopy. The last to ; Merciful Heaven ! what 
 a fate was theirs! my precious wife my dear dear 
 children. Carlos, I do not repine ; a blessed, a mighty 
 assurance is borne in upon my very soul, that they dwell 
 in bliss unspeakable, in realms of everlasting happiness, 
 beyond the most resplendent orbs which that night 
 glittered in the depths of heaven. These, my son, are 
 not the tears or the sighs of a murmuring spirit : as rain- 
 drops fall from the passing clouds of summer, they gush 
 forth unbidden with the shadows of endeared and tender 
 recollections ; between which and my subsequent exist- 
 ence, that night forms in my mind the beautiful but 
 mournful veil of separation. My son, let us pray to the 
 Giver of all peace, for strength, and faith, and humility 
 of spirit.
 
 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 173 
 
 The moon about eleven days old was sinking in a 
 soft silver mist, which rested like some enchanted 
 island on the extreme horizon of the calm Pacific. A 
 long train of pearly light seemed to form a bright track 
 for spirits from the beautiful planet to the white shiny 
 beach, upon which the still whiter breakers poured 
 with a majestical and measured cadence. I bade old 
 Sarah cease her fomentations, the effect of which had 
 been admirable, and send my page as I would retire to 
 rest. As she was preparing to obey, I heard a sound 
 above, below, around, filling as it were, the whole 
 atmosphere, and impregnating the very earth, of so 
 singular a description that it is almost impossible to 
 convey any adequate idea of it. It was not loud, but it 
 was heavy, solemn, mournful; it had that thrilling 
 effect upon the nerves which you have experienced, 
 Carlos, from the ringing vibration of the huge Chinese 
 gong we have hung in the further cave : yet it was not 
 dissonant, it was too subdued, too sad ; it seemed as if 
 the mountains shuddered, while a hollow groan mur- 
 mured through the deep valleys, and over the sleeping 
 ocean. Twice it arose without a possibility of tracing 
 the quarter from whence it came, for it appeared
 
 174 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 
 
 simultaneously to fill the atmosphere, to rise from the 
 bosom of the earth, and to float upon the waves of the 
 star-lit sea. For a few minutes it increased, yet never 
 was it very loud to the ear though the heart quailed 
 under it, and then it died away in a long sigh, like the 
 last breath of the storm amidst the solitudes of a forest. 
 I sat motionless, and heard the beating of my own 
 heart. The negress held by the handle of the door and 
 moved not. A tired wolf-dog, who had been sleep- 
 ing at my feet, started up, and crouched and cowered 
 beneath my chair, shivering as if with an ague fit. 
 As the sound gently, very gently, died away, the 
 striking of a silver time-piece on the table startled me 
 as if it had been the explosion of a mine. It struck 
 two, and I again heard the faint murmur of the far 
 waves on the beach, and the sighings of the breeze 
 amongst the flower-laden branches in the garden. 
 
 " In the name of Heaven," I exclaimed, " what 
 means this, Sarah ?" 
 
 " Oh, Senor," replied the trembling negress, " this is 
 the third time we have heard this dreadful sound. 
 Twice before has it come, at the dead time of the night, 
 within the last year. It has been heard too amongst the
 
 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 175 
 
 wild mountains, by the peasants on your farthest farms, 
 and by the fishers on the beach, and those who cast 
 their nets out by the bank of Padalesa, twelve miles 
 from shore ; but your lordship's servants, and the people 
 of the city, laugh at us when we tell them, and call 
 our truths, which are as true as the holy saints, foolish 
 superstitions." 
 
 I spoke a few words to the old woman, calculated to 
 remove a feeling, T knew not what to call it a feeling 
 of awe and apprehension, with which I was myself 
 more affected than I was willing to believe it possible 
 for any occurrence of the sort to affect me. This then 
 was the origin of many of those vague rumours which 
 had agitated the public mind they were not groundless 
 what could it mean ? Were there indeed more things 
 in heaven and earth, than we dream of in our philosophy? 
 But the pride of knowledge, and the hard scepticism of 
 physical science came to my aid. I would not allow 
 myself to believe that the phenomenon did not admit of 
 a natural, perhaps a simple, solution ; and impressed 
 with this sentiment, I made accurate notes on the 
 subject, and even sketched an explanatory hypothesis, 
 before retiring to rest. I have seen it once since.
 
 176 THE JTOCTION OF THE OCEANS. 
 
 With what feelings I reperused these vanities of my 
 presumptuous spirit you will judge, when you have 
 heard the termination of my terrible story. 
 
 My page and Domingo, tired with the fatigues of the 
 day's chase, had slept unconscious of that mysterious 
 sound so little did it approximate to loudness. It was 
 the low, deep, mournful shudder, which made it so 
 awful: but I said, in the vanity of science, beyond 
 doubt it is a mere physical phenomenon, as explicable 
 as the tides, less mysterious than the magnetic attrac- 
 tion. I calculated on the credit to be acquired by the 
 solutions I had to propose, and fell asleep in my pride. 
 ****** 
 
 The morning of the tenth of May came bright and 
 beautiful, as if the sun beamed upon a world which had 
 never known sin or sorrow. A mild breeze blew with 
 balmy softness over the Pacific, just curled by its breath 
 into crisp and sparkling waves. The sky was of that 
 light, transparent blue, which seems as if it absorbs all 
 the fiercer rays of the sun, and distributes those only 
 which are most mild and benignant. A few light fleecy 
 clouds hovered on the horizon, and one or two of dazzling 
 whiteness slept upon the purple summits of the highest
 
 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 177 
 
 mountains. Elsewhere the whole magnificent vault of 
 heaven spread in clear majesty, affording that sublime 
 idea of the illimitable which attaches to a perfectly 
 cloudless sky. In the city all was joy and animation. 
 From an early hour the firing of salvos, the cheerful 
 peal of bells, the shouts of congregated multitudes, and 
 the sound of innumerable bands of music, had been 
 faintly echoed from the hollow rocks and valleys of the 
 mountains. As the day advanced, one joyous voice of 
 exultation seemed to arise almost like thunder from 
 the borders of the mighty channel, now at length pre- 
 pared to receive and mingle the waters of two hemi- 
 spheres. At 'the mouth of the great excavation, tier 
 above tier of seats had been elevated to a dizzy height 
 in the form of vast amphitheatres, whose adornments 
 were velvet, and cloth of gold, and the silks of Cairo 
 and Japan. Ten thousand banners of every beautiful 
 hue, and blazoned with each rich device that imagina- 
 tion could contrive, floated above those stupendous 
 edifices, while the rich costume of the myriads arranged 
 upon the seats, the fairest, the best, the bravest of 
 the new world and the old, glanced back the sun-light 
 from jewels, and plumes, and rich embroider}", with
 
 178 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 
 
 almost intolerable lustre. All this, by the aid of my 
 excellent glasses, I could see with the most perfect 
 distinctness every group, every feature of the gorgeous 
 spectacle was brought close to my eyes. 
 
 There on one side was the splendid representative of 
 the Gallic Confederation, with his suite flashing with 
 jewels, and one mass of waving plumes. The charming 
 women of his country were surpassed by none, who 
 gave life and animation to the assembly at New Panama. 
 Near him were the superb delegates from the Republic 
 of red Russia, and the golden-haired daughters of that 
 far land, standing in beautiful clusters on the platforms, 
 covered and draped with pale green and silver, which 
 were allotted for their accommodation. On the left of 
 the President's throne, were the British: the scarlet 
 uniforms of the men, the graceful costumes of the lovely 
 women, shining .brightly amidst the multitude of gor- 
 geous hues which covered the whole edifice, as if it 
 were one mighty parterre of oriental flowers. By their 
 side stood the majestic representatives of Erin, now 
 united with their valiant brethren of the sister island, in 
 more enduring ties than those formed by the legal bonds 
 of other days. Why do I dwell on these things ? they
 
 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 179 
 
 were indeed, to the events which followed, as trifling as 
 the busy swarming of some ant-heap, which is in the 
 next instant crushed by the tread of the unheeding 
 elephant. From the flowery porch of my lodge, all was 
 as visible as if I had been in my place in the General 
 Assembly, nay, more so ; for my sight, aided by 
 Morand's glasses, could embrace the whole, instead of a 
 portion only of the superb spectacle, and even now, 
 without an effort, the glorious and magnificent vision 
 floats before my eye, when it rests on nothing but the 
 unquiet waves of that trackless ocean, or the clouds 
 which sail slowly over our lonely isle. 
 
 At the mouth of the canal ten thousand vessels, from 
 the gigantic steam-ship to the humble coaster and the 
 humbler fishing boat, lay ready to pass through as soon 
 as the excavation was sufficiently filled with water. 
 Their rigging was covered with countless flags, their 
 yards were manned with their innumerable crews, 
 dressed in their holiday attire, and replying with stun- 
 ning shouts to the huzzas of the multitude on land. 
 Farthest out lay the leviathans of the deep, mighty 
 war-steamers, which from a thousand bellowing cannon, 
 answered with thundering salvo for salvo the blazing 
 
 N 2
 
 180 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 
 
 batteries on shore. Never, on earth, had been such a 
 tumult of gladness, so vast a jubilee. 
 
 I had received a reply from my Marianna, she cheer- 
 fully met my wishes ; when was she otherwise than the 
 most kind, the most considerate, the most affectionate 
 of wives ! Many of our friends had expressed their 
 approval of my idea as to the greater enjoyment we 
 should have in witnessing the whole magnificent spec- 
 tacle at one grand coup tfceil from Bitales ; and those 
 who were not detained by their official avocations, had 
 agreed to accompany my wife. 
 
 My ancle felt comparatively well, and, with the aid 
 of a stick, I walked to the verge of the mountain, from 
 whence I could trace our romantic road nearly to the 
 city. I soon saw my wife, with some other ladies, 
 and a gallant cavalcade of gentlemen, with their 
 attendants, threading the chestnut wood which filled 
 one of the intermediate valleys : that, indeed, which 
 was nearest to the foot of the mountain on which my 
 
 As they came to a green open space, I caught a clear 
 view of my Marianna' s beautiful white mule, with the 
 sun glancing from his golden trappings ; she saw me also,
 
 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 181 
 
 for she waved her handkerchief, and the whole party 
 coming onward at a brisker pace, they were again lost 
 in the bowery shadows of the wood. It was but a 
 narrow belt of beautiful trees to cross, and they would 
 commence the last ascent of the elevation on which my 
 lodge stood this island, Carlos and much less than an 
 hour, with mules and horses so swift and so well broken 
 as those they rode, would bring them to the summit of 
 the mountain. 
 
 As I was endeavouring to trace their progress through 
 the thick green of the forest, I was startled by a loud 
 report high in the air. I looked up, and perceived from 
 the thick cloud of pitchy smoke, which, hovering in one 
 'spot contrasted strongly with the tender azure of the 
 sky, that one of the great signal rockets had been dis- 
 charged as a warning that the flood-gates of the Pacific 
 were about to be opened, liocket after rocket along the 
 line of the canal conveyed the intelligence to the shores 
 of the Atlantic, while the magnetic stations were rapidly 
 at work, communicating to the engineers more in detail 
 the orders of the chiefs. In ten minutes more, another 
 black rocket was discharged, and similarly replied to, 
 I looked at my watch, and felt persuaded that owing to
 
 182 THE JTrXCTION OF THE OCEAKS. 
 
 some cause \vith which I was unacquainted, the period 
 decided upon for opening the canal was about to be 
 anticipated by at least two hours. I was sincerely 
 annoyed at this, for I was sure that Marianna and her 
 party would not reach the summit of the mountain in 
 time for the spectacle : but in spite of my vexation, my 
 attention was soon attracted to the scene below by the 
 discharge of a third great rocket, followed by a thousand 
 others as before, along the whole vast line of the works. 
 This time, however, the report of the most distant 
 was distinctly audible, for a silence like that of death 
 had settled at once upon the valley, and the mighty 
 multitude beneath me awaited in breathless expectation 
 the majestic Junction of the Oceans. What thoughts of 
 difficulties overcome, of hopes fulfilled ; what trium- 
 phant anticipations for the future, what philanthropic 
 self-congratulations must at that instant have filled 
 many a noble mind in that vast assembly, when the 
 rudest mechanic in the throng seemed awed into silence 
 by the greatness of the event, the immensity of the 
 triumph. The President of the Delegates raised high a 
 golden banner. Owing to his elevated position he 
 could be seen from one of the vast and polished black
 
 THE JTTNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 183 
 
 marble quays at the mouth of the canal, each orna- 
 mented with a colossal sphinx of red granite to which 
 that of old Egypt was but as the conception of a child, to 
 the opposite one. The President, elevated upon a pyra- 
 midal throne, which seemed a mountain of flashing gems, 
 waved his banner thrice ; and then the death-like still- 
 ness was broken by the heavy rolling of machinery, the 
 clanking of prodigious chains, and the dull noise of blows 
 dealt by huge engines ; for the whole power provided by 
 the engineers for removing the last barrier to the waves 
 of the Pacific was in full operation still the silence was 
 undisturbed by any human voice, or any sound but that 
 of the gigantic machinery. The breeze had died away. 
 The ocean lay motionless and smooth, as one vast sheet 
 of emerald. The few fleecy clouds which had hitherto 
 floated gently over the blue heavens were at rest. The 
 very murmur which fills a tropical atmosphere, so 
 rarely mute, was hushed, and the air and the forest were 
 voiceless Nature herself might seem to a fanciful 
 imagination to hold her breath at this sublime crisis. 
 But the vast powers placed by science at the disposal of 
 man, were in active operation. 
 
 First the enormous breast-work appeared pierced,
 
 184 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 
 
 with ten thousand arches, range surmounting range ; 
 then pier after pier, and buttress after buttress dis- 
 appeared, while the waters of the mighty ocean, entering 
 from beneath, flashed upwards green and sparkling in 
 the glorious sun-shine. 
 
 All this was accomplished, to such incredible per- 
 fection had the employment of mechanical forces been 
 carried, with almost the rapidity of some vast change 
 wrought by nature. Layer after layer of the huge 
 barrier disappeared. One only, the upper one, composed 
 of the lightest and most buoyant materials, remained. 
 It was divided by means invisible to me into a thousand 
 mighty fragments, and each, forming a secure raft 
 decorated with banners for the workmen who covered it, 
 and the machinery it bore, floated away eastward on tho 
 breast of the in-flowing sea stream which now filled the 
 excavation. A vast blazing mass of green and purple 
 fire projected high in air at the other extremity of the 
 canal, announced that the Isthmus of America had ceased 
 to exist; that the northern and southern continents 
 were now enormous islands; that the waters of the 
 Pacific and Atlantic had mingled ; that the junction was 
 complete. Then advancing in beauty and majesty, as if
 
 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 185 
 
 a creature instinct with life and conscious of her sublime 
 position, one of the mightiest vessels that swam on the 
 ocean, entered from the Pacific ; and as her prodigious 
 bows drove forward the first silver ripple on the glitter- 
 ing surface of the magnificent canal, there arose, as with 
 one voice, a shout from the immense multitude, which 
 seemed to shake the very mountain on which I stood ; 
 and the next instant, to the solemn accompaniment of 
 countless trumpets, millions of voices poured forth a 
 sublime hymn of praise and thanksgiving, drowning 
 with that awful and thrilling harmony the thunderings 
 of the cannon that pealed without ceasing from ships 
 and towers and vast batteries. Hosts of enormous vessels 
 followed their gigantic leader, spreading in broad lines 
 across the vast mouth of the canal, until the white sails 
 of those nearest the opposite shore just glanced like the 
 wings of birds in the sun-shine. 
 
 I was greatly vexed that my Harianna and our 
 friends, had not enjoyed the glorious spectacle from the 
 first ; but the scene was still very magnificent, and I 
 turned away from it to expedite by my signs their 
 progress up the mountain. For during the period 
 which had elapsed since I last saw the cavalcade, it
 
 186 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 
 
 had left the chestnut wood and was now at least two- 
 thirds of the way up the ascent to my lodge. 
 
 While I was waving my handkerchief to the advanc- 
 ing group, and pointing, though not looking, towards 
 the mouth of the canal, intimating by signs that they 
 were losing the beautiful spectacle, I heard a singular 
 sort of murmur from below, very different from the joy- 
 ous and exulting tumult of sounds which had ascended 
 since the echoes of the magnificent hymn, the poean of 
 congregated nations, had died away amongst the 
 recesses of the mountains. I turned towards the canal ; 
 at first I could perceive no cause for a kind of confusion, 
 of agitation, which appeared to prevail amongst the 
 multitude upon its majestic borders. Suddenly, how- 
 ever, it struck me, that the vessels were proceeding 
 through, though there was no wind, with startling 
 rapidity the surface of the water, too, was no longer 
 clear, smooth, and sparkling as at first, but broken into 
 huge, turbid eddies, which bore many ships with violence 
 against those great quays of granite, and marble that 
 bordered the whole work others began to be whirled 
 round, at first, slowly, then with greater velocity in the 
 centre of the stream; soon their rigging became
 
 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 187 
 
 entangled with that of others, and masts fell with a 
 crash, which, arising as it did from many falling at the 
 same moment, was audible even on the spot where I 
 stood. 
 
 Through the hollow agitated murmur which now 
 arose, I thought I heard cries, as of distress, both from 
 the vessels, and on the shore. The spectators in the 
 mountainous amphitheatres, erected for their accommo- 
 dation, appeared alarmed ; there was a confused move- 
 ment amongst them ; some began to rush down from 
 their seats and pour forth on to the plain, while others 
 hurried up towards the highest parts of the buildings 
 with eager and agitated gestures. Carriages were seen 
 driving furiously away, and thousands of horsemen 
 galloping towards the hills. An universal sentiment of 
 terror seemed to have penetrated the immense multitude, 
 which, in a shorter time than I have been narrating 
 what passed, appeared flying, dispersing, with a fright- 
 ful clamour, in every direction. I was thunder-struck, 
 when suddenly I perceived that the canal, which was 
 intended to flow fifty feet beneath the surface of the 
 quays, had not only risen to their level, but even during 
 the few seconds my eyes had been withdrawn from it,
 
 188 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 
 
 had acquired a terrible impetuosity ; and was now dash- 
 ing along like a gigantic rapid, with its turbid surface 
 half hidden by mist and foam. 
 
 Almost bewildered, I cast my eyes hastily along its 
 whole course as far as that was visible. They encoun- 
 tered a frightful spectacle. Where a profound valley 
 was spanned by one of the enormous bridges I have told 
 you of, the parapet had given way, no doubt before a 
 pressure against which no provision had been thought 
 necessary at this place, consequently, a mighty sheet 
 of water precipitated itself over through the chasm in 
 a vast cascade, and horrible to relate, carried with it 
 ship after ship, nay, hundreds at a time, hurling them 
 hundreds of toises down into the frightful abyss 
 beneath. But what, what was this ! The tame, the 
 feeble prelude to the horrors which followed. 
 
 While I was gazing, fascinated as it were by the 
 appalling spectacle, I heard my page scream with a 
 voice of agony : 
 
 " Miro Senhor ! por 1'amor de Dios, Miro Senhor !" 
 
 I turned to the south-west, and saw along the whole 
 extent of the horizon rising from the ocean, and 
 advancing upon the land quicker than the clouds of
 
 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 189 
 
 a hurricane, what appeared to be a mighty range of 
 jagged mountains, black as midnight, and fringed along 
 the entire length of their wildly undulating summits, 
 by a dazzling line as if of molten silver. A hollow, 
 hoarse, roaring sound, like continuous deep-toned 
 thunder, came from the same quarter ; there was no 
 mistaking that awful voice. 
 
 " They are storm clouds," said the boy; "Madre de 
 Dios, a terrible storm is coming." 
 
 " No, no," I shouted ; " God have mercy upon us, it 
 is the sea ! " 
 
 Great Heaven ! it was the sea, the raging, the ter- 
 rible sea ! such as no man's heart, no, not the wildest 
 imagination had ever conceived it, tossed up in jagged 
 peaks and mountains high as the Alps of the old world, 
 and rushing as with the wings of the wind, upon the 
 doomed race of man. I heard the long, wild, universal 
 shriek, which from the devoted multitude below pierced 
 through the stunning roar of the advancing deluge ; 
 for a moment I covered my eyes, horror stricken, and 
 wished for death ; but louder and louder rang the 
 dreadful scream of perishing nations, amidst the accu-
 
 190 TEE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 
 
 mulation of terrific sounds, which now hurtled through 
 the darkening air. 
 
 " My wife horror ! horror !" I staggered to the 
 extreme verge of the hill. I saw my wife more than 
 half way up the ascent through the lower gardens. I 
 endeavoured to rush down, that I might share her fate ; 
 but my ancle failed me, and I fell. " Marianna ! 
 Marianna!" I shouted with a voice to which my agony 
 gave an unearthly power perhaps she heard me, she 
 threw herself forward on the saddle as if to clasp me to 
 her heart she extended her beautiful arms towards me, 
 while her noble mule, mad with the instinct of self-pre- 
 servation, rushed right up the mountain with wild and 
 prodigious bounds. The rest of the late splendid and 
 joyous cavalcade seemed overwhelmed with dismay and 
 despair ; some endeavoured to spur their horses up the 
 ascent, but the animals were paralyzed by terror, and 
 either stood rigid and rooted to the spot, or reared and 
 plunged wildly without attempting to advance some 
 of the party had thrown themselves upon the ground, and 
 were burying their faces amidst the grass and flowers, 
 as if to shut out the dreadful sight of that " Hell of
 
 THE JUNCTION 1 OF THE OCEANS. 191 
 
 waters," so furiously raging onward others again 
 were flying on foot with wild gestures and stumbling 
 in their great fear at every step ; but this I saw in the 
 hurried glance of an instant. 
 
 " My wife ! my wife ! " On her I gazed frantic, 
 helpless, unable even to perish with her I shouted her 
 name deliriously she came nearer. I saw the pale 
 features of her lovely, her dear, dear face she held 
 her seat bravely. In what an agony I prayed to God 
 to help her, a few hundred yards now only divided us 
 her eyes were fixed on mine. I saw them, I saw 
 every beloved feature as clearly, Carlos, as I now see 
 yours why, why did I not die then ? Oh misery ! 
 
 At that instant the resistless power of a wind, cold 
 as death, and to which the fiercest tornado of the 
 Indian seas was but as a spring zephyr, dashed the 
 mule with horrid force to the ground : my Marianna 
 fell under him. I heard her shriek even through the 
 infernal din that filled earth and air. I once more 
 attempted to rise, the same terrific blast hurled me on 
 the sward breathless and bleeding, and I saw, (shall I 
 ever cease to see it ? ) rushing right on from the now 
 lurid south and west, one immense, prodigious cliff, one
 
 192 THE FUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 
 
 gigantic, horrible precipice of dark, raging waters 
 or how shall I describe it ? one vast wave, 
 huger than the mountains, black, illimitable, ad- 
 vancing with the speed of light, and breaking, as it 
 advanced, in cataracts above cataracts of boiling foam, 
 higher than the eye could reach, with the noise and 
 shock of ten thousand thunder peals. I felt that the 
 doom of Marianna was sealed I trusted, I prayed that I 
 too might be delivered. Horrible noises filled my ears 
 the ground seemed to fling me from its breast, and toss 
 my body to and fro with convulsive heavings. There was 
 a deafening, stunning crash, as if all the caverns of tho 
 earth had fallen in, as if the granite ribs of the giant 
 Andes were rending into atoms, and all the moun- 
 tains toppling down from their bases a blackness came 
 over my eyes I gasped for breath, and my senses 
 deserted me. 
 
 ****** 
 
 When I awoke to the melancholy consciousness of 
 existence, I could not for a long time recall to my 
 memory what had passed. It seemed as if I had strug- 
 gled through some awful dream, infinitely too terrible 
 to have had any existence save as the dark vision of a
 
 TH.E JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 193 
 
 distempered slumber. I leant upon my arm, and looked 
 around me, but my sight was wavering and confused 
 there was a mist before my eyes I was giddy, and 
 sank again to the earth with an indistinct feeling of 
 hopeless agony, and that something very fearful had 
 occurred ; as yet I know not what, but as my senses 
 became somewhat more collected I heard the rapid 
 rushing of water not very remote, a noise like that of a 
 great vessel at her highest speed cleaving the green 
 waves. The wind, too, was blowing fresh across my 
 face, and not far off I heard a heaving as of some heavy 
 body, and occasionally mighty blows, which shook me 
 as I lay. Could I be in one of the vast vessels I have 
 already described how came I there ? What had hap- 
 pened? I endeavoured to command my wandering facul- 
 ties. I rubbed my eyes after a time I again rose and 
 looked around me. Merciful Heaven ! a host of fright- 
 ful recollections came with that single glance. An 
 appalling conviction flashed upon me that I had sur- 
 vived the miserable hour of a world's desolation, that 
 one frightful wrench had torn from me home, happiness, 
 wife, children, the very beings of my kind and that I 
 was alone on the unpeopled globe. One moment I
 
 194 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 
 
 stood fixed in a horrible despair the agony of a whole 
 lifetime was concentrated in that instant my blood 
 seemed turned into a burning dust, my throat was 
 bursting, and parched as if with actual fire a rush of 
 blasphemous and fearful thoughts blackened my heart 
 I was about to " curse God and die," when I felt 
 something touch my foot I looked down it was a 
 favourite little dog of my lost Marianna's it had, no 
 doubt, left the city with her, and having ran on as was 
 its habit before the horses, had thus been saved. It 
 crouched and trembled at my feet, poor creature, and 
 seemed to look up to me with a supplicating expression 
 in its meek dark eyes, as if instinctively conscious of the 
 horrible feelings which agitated my soul; but I was 
 mad I spurned it from me. It seemed frightful, un- 
 natural, that such a thing should live, when beauty and 
 talent, the loveliness of woman, the pride and virtue, the 
 power of man, had in one little hour, been swept from 
 the face of the earth. I raised a piece of rock to crush 
 the trembling animal, when my eye was attracted by 
 the ribbon round its neck. The previous morning I 
 had remarked my wife fasten it on with her own hands. 
 The day before, I had observed her wear it as a girdle.
 
 THE JUNCTION OF THE .OCEANS. 195 
 
 What a revulsion came over my feelings ! It seemed as 
 if a token had been brought to me from the dead from 
 the lost treasure of my soul. I threw the stone far, far 
 from me, as if fearing some force which might make 
 me use it against my will. I untied the ribbon I 
 pressed it to my heart I kissed it with frantic kisses 
 I flung myself upon the ground my tears poured forth 
 like rain, and that gush of affliction saved me from 
 death or madness. 
 
 Long I lay in the deep bitterness of my unparalleled 
 grief ; my tears flowed unchecked ; Fidelio crouched 
 close to me : occasionally he licked my hand, the hand 
 which had been raised to slay him. I felt that hor- 
 rible as was my destiny, I was yet not quite alone in 
 existence. Poor Fidelio ! You remember him, Carlos, 
 in his old age, when his once bright eye was dim, 
 and his uncommon beauty had departed. To that poor 
 animal you owed the life of your father. 
 
 Hours passed away, and at length I became more 
 composed. I fortified myself by fervent prayer and 
 meiital devotion. I rallied the energies of a nature not 
 altogether without fortitude. I recalled the better 
 feelings which a temporary despair had smothered in
 
 196 THE JTJyCTIOX OF THE OCEANS. 
 
 my heart, and recognised my sacred duty to that Power 
 which had so miraculously preserved me. By a strong 
 effort I addressed myself with comparative composure 
 to the endurance or performance of whatever my destiny 
 might, have reserved for me. I looked around me with 
 the calmness, not of despair hut of fortitude, or at least 
 of resignation. Judge, my son, of what I had suffered, 
 for what I had been prepared, when I tell you, that 
 the scene before my eyes scarcely excited more than a 
 momentary feeling of surprise. 
 
 When the blast of that mighty wind which preceded 
 the careering waves of the advancing deluge dashed me 
 to the earth, it flung me on the breast of a lofty moun- 
 tain ; a portion of a great continent surrounded by 
 many peaks of greater or lesser elevation, and com- 
 manding a view over hill and plain, until in the blue 
 distance, the noble range of the Andes blended with 
 the azure of heaven. When I next looked around me, 
 I was standing on a lonely island in the midst of a 
 dreary waste of troubled waters fathomless, illimit- 
 able. An ocean surrounded me. Its dull ashen swell 
 hurried past with a sullen roar, and with frightful 
 rapidity, as if the terrible tide was still pouring on to
 
 THE JtTNCTIOX OF THE OCEANS. 197 
 
 till some huge chasm rent in the crust of the globe by 
 the convulsion which had occurred. There was not one 
 curling wave upon that grey sea, which heaved up in 
 long dark, silent undulations ; but streaks and enormous 
 eddies of white foam rushing and whirling past the 
 beach, (what else could I call it ? ) on which I stood, 
 with a velocity that baffled the eye and made the brain 
 dizzy. I looked up, and there the clouds of a deep 
 lurid red were hurrying across the firmament, as if 
 dragged onwards by the attraction of the raging tide 
 beneath them. Kow and then, through a rift in the 
 dismal veil, I saw a hard, blue sky, in which the stars 
 glittered with surpassing brightness, dazzling and fiery, 
 and with what appeared to my distempered fancy a 
 fierce, malignant lustre. In the west, some streaks of 
 the colour of blood resting on the heaving verge of the 
 grey ocean, shewed where the sun was sinking after 
 this day of terror. Xot far from me lay an enormous 
 sperm whale, which had been hurled amongst the 
 granite rocks, and which had shaken the ground with 
 those tremendous buffetings my bewildered fancy had 
 construed into the working of some mighty machinery. 
 His struggles wore, however, nearly over, and the
 
 198 THE JITXCXION OF THE OCEANS. 
 
 repetition, at longer and longer intervals, of the dull 
 heavy blows with his vast tail, which broke the dreary 
 silence, like the report of a piece of artillery, showed 
 that his strength was almost exhausted. 
 
 I turned towards the long line of cliffs, which shel- 
 tered my lodge. As I approached it, an object lay in 
 my path, it was my unfortunate page ; he was dead, 
 stone dead, without a sign or mark of violence terror 
 had killed him. 
 
 I moved on with the endurance or the indifference 
 engendered by utter misery at another time I should 
 have wept, for he was a good and affectionate boy, the 
 stay and hope of a widowed mother who had fallen 
 from affluence to poverty; now, I could feel only 
 envious of his fate. If all dear to him. had perished, 
 he had not been left in the bitterness of desolation to 
 lament their loss. 
 
 I moved on and turned the corner of the horse-shoe 
 cliff. It seemed as if my eyes rested on a miracle, for the 
 lodge remained uninjured. The very trees, where the 
 birds sat cowering, and the flowers of the garden had been 
 sheltered from the whirlwind, that came with the terrific 
 wave, by the massive and protecting rocks which so
 
 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 199 
 
 nearly encircled it. Those trees were drooping, and no 
 murmur sang amongst their leaves ; but they seemed to 
 me friends who had survived the general destruction, 
 and, as I gazed upon them as I recalled those who had 
 sat beneath their fragrant shade the fountain of my 
 tears was once more opened, and I wept aloud. 
 
 My name was suddenly pronounced with a wild cry, 
 and before I recovered from the startling effect of such a 
 sound at such a moment, Domingo, my mulatto, was at 
 my feet. I raised him the fanciful distinctions of 
 society, and the wicked one of colour, were forgotten in 
 a moment. I saw only the man and the brother. I 
 raised Domingo, I pressed him to my heart, and our 
 tears mingled. Thus we stood on a lonely island, with 
 that fearful sky above us with that terrible looking 
 ocean rushing past, its leaden waters careering over a 
 dead world perhaps the last dark and the last white 
 man, the sole survivors of countless myriads we stood 
 alone and wept. 
 
 ****** 
 
 Domingo's information added little to my own fright- 
 ful recollections ; he had seen the advancing precipice of 
 waters, and with his poor mother, turned with a natural
 
 200 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 
 
 instinct to fly towards the house, but they were over- 
 taken by that terrific blast, which, as with the arms of a 
 giant, tore them asunder ; the unfortunate negress was 
 probably borne away upon its breath like a feather, or a 
 winter leaf, to instant destruction. Domingo described 
 himself as having been carried off 1 his feet with irre- 
 sistible violence for many yards, and then, by a kind of 
 eddy, whirled round the corner of the cliffs which 
 encircled the lodge, where he was dashed upon the 
 earth with such violence as to deprive him of his senses; 
 when he recovered, he saw nothing but the wild waste 
 of waters raging past with terrific fury, and, as he 
 described it, the summits of high mountains broken away 
 and falling into the dreadful torrent ; yet not sinking 
 immediately, but owing to its inconceivable velocity, . 
 borne away far out of sight upon the surface of the 
 rushing water, as if its waves had been of iron. 
 
 That awful night was past in darkness and in misery. 
 I could not enter the lodge where there was so much to 
 recall agonizing recollections. I spent the night pros- 
 trate on the ground, in tears and in prayer. Devoutly 
 at length did I humble myself to my Maker devoutly 
 did I recognize and bend my soul to his inscrutable
 
 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 201 
 
 pleasure, shown in the miraculous preservation of the 
 two helpless creatures who were, perhaps, all the 
 dwellers upon earth to whom his being was known. 
 
 The morning came grey and misty, with the clouds 
 weeping big rain-drops, heavy and slow, as if they 
 were Nature's tears, and with a chill wind moaning 
 over the sea, which now no longer rushed past the 
 island, but rose in vast sullen undulations of disco- 
 loured water. As far as eye could reach, everything 
 was sad, and dreary, and desolate as my own heart ; 
 but I arose prepared to encounter my destiny, and 
 to fulfil without repining the will of Heaven. 
 
 Domingo, still weeping for his mother, to whom he 
 was greatly attached, went to see to the condition of 
 the horses and cattle in the caves, where they were 
 always kept, and from whence we had heard their 
 neighs and melancholy lowings, at intervals during 
 the long sad night. I climbed the cliff above the 
 lodge, now become a sort of small table mountain, 
 terminating the ridge which intersects our island. From 
 thence I cast my eye far and wide over the turbid 
 stillness of the sea without encountering any object 
 to break its dreary monotony of colour and swell, except
 
 202 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 
 
 some very distant elevations, still covered with snow, 
 above the surface of the water, the summits of moun- 
 tains not altogether submerged. Many of much greater 
 height had been in sight from the lodge, but had no 
 doubt, been rent from their bases, as Domingo described, 
 or had sunk in vast chasms caused by the deluge. At 
 this dreary prospect I felt my heart sink, but I prayed 
 to be strengthened, and descended to the shore. Strange 
 to say the ills of my mind seemed to have driven away 
 mere bodily pain, and with the help of a stick I could 
 walk, without great suffering, on the ancle which but the 
 day before had failed me when I wished to seek death. 
 I traversed the shores of the island looking idly, for 
 wonder was exhausted, at marine shells and weeds, and 
 pebbles tossed upon a green sward which had bloomed but 
 the proceeding morning nearly ten thousand feet above 
 the level of the ocean. As I followed the windings of 
 the shore, I turned into a bay, which had been hidden 
 from my sight when on the cliff by the formation of the 
 coast, and by the high rocks which encompassed the 
 inlet. Judge, Carlos, of my sensations, when I saw 
 one of those great vessels I have attempted to describe 
 to you, though of the third or fourth class, lying on the
 
 THE JTJNCIIOtf OF THE OCEANS. 203 
 
 shore, and nearly occupying the considerable indenture 
 which formed the bay. Oh with what hope ! with what 
 joy ! such joy as I could still feel, I hastened forward. 
 Perhaps other human beings were on board miraculously 
 preserved like myself. I should again see and mingle 
 with my kind, and find some consolation even in the 
 community of that sorrow which had overwhelmed us 
 all. I hurried on as fast as my weakness and the 
 agitation of my spirit would permit. I climbed the 
 dizzy height of the huge side with a difficulty which you, 
 Carlos, can estimate, for it has teen the capital exploit 
 of youth and daring in your brothers and yourself to 
 surmount that mighty ruin which still lies upon our 
 coast ; now grey, shapeless, covered with shells and sea- 
 mosses, and presenting in its rugged and hoary ascent 
 precisely that degree of risk which seems to challenge 
 the powers and stimulate the activity of boyhood. 
 With difficulty then, and with much danger, I reached 
 the enormous deck; but all was silence and solitude. 
 The dead were alone there. Some bodies were lying as 
 if violently forced into positions amongst the machinery, 
 and into recesses of the wood- work by the passing of 
 heavy seas over the vessel ; most of them bore tokens of
 
 204 THE JT7XCTIOX OF THE OCEANS. 
 
 the immense power with which they had been flung 
 into the situations where they were lying, and all were 
 quite dead. 
 
 I could comprehend that the people on board had 
 rushed upon the upper decks on the appearance of an 
 imminent and mysterious danger, and except the few 
 ghastly objects before me, had all been swept into the 
 raging sea. I descended below, and traversed the 
 vast fabric for many hours ; but its splendid halls and 
 long arcades were as still as the tomb. I shouted aloud, 
 and nought replied but the echoes which mournfully 
 arose from the hollow ship, and murmuring along the 
 deserted corridors, died away far off into silence. 
 Around me in overpowering profusion lay the treasures 
 of nature and art there existed scarcely an object of 
 beauty or utility which was not to be found in one of 
 those floating cities ; but how valueless was all now, 
 they had been created for the benefit or enjoyment 
 of a race which had ceased to exist. 
 
 I returned to the deck. It was nearly sunset ; the 
 unnatural grey of the sky had given place to cloudy 
 masses, through which the azure of the firmament was 
 once more becoming visible, while in the west the
 
 THE JTTNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 205 
 
 heavens were all aflame with the splendour of the 
 sinking sun. As I reached the open deck, Domingo, 
 who had come in search of me, uneasy and alarmed 
 at my prolonged absence, mounted the side. With 
 his aid I renewed my researches, until darkness com- 
 pelled us to desist, and we slept that night in a 
 gorgeous banqueting hall of the desolate vessel. The 
 ensuing day we recommenced our examination in other 
 quarters of the huge edifice. At length we thought 
 that in the deep silence we heard voices afar off; we 
 hurried to the spot, and hastily flinging open the 
 door of one of a splendid suite of chambers, beheld a 
 group of human beings. 
 
 On a rich sofa lay the body of a middle aged and 
 strikingly beautiful woman, evidently dead : a younger 
 female, whose face was hidden by the dishevelled tresses 
 of her long bright hair, was kneeling on the floor ; her 
 head resting on the bosom, and her arms clasping the 
 waist of the deceased two women, one old the other 
 finely formed and handsome, apparently about seven- 
 teen, and both possessing the cast of features peculiar 
 to the natives of the Phillipincs, as well as dressed 
 in the picturesque costume of the Manilla Creoles,
 
 206 THE XOfCTIOX OF THE OCEANS. 
 
 stood in mute sorrow by the side of the dead. The 
 strong red light of the setting sun, for our second 
 day's search had lasted till evening, streamed in upon 
 the mourners with a glow and glitter which seemed 
 to mock at their melancholy occupation. When the 
 persons who were standing nearly in front of the door 
 saw Domingo and myself, they screamed, and the 
 weeping lady, raising her head, discovered to us the 
 colourless, hut very lovely features of an European girl 
 of eighteen or nineteen. She arose pale, and in tears, 
 but awaited my advance with the natural grace and 
 self-possession of good birth and education. It occurred 
 to me from her appearance that she was English, and I 
 addressed her in that language explanations were soon 
 given of the awful circumstances which had thrown us 
 together. She had, it seemed, the preceding morning 
 quitted Japan with her father, a gentleman holding a 
 high office under the British Government of those 
 islands. His object was to remove her mother, whose 
 delicate health required the change, as speedily as possible 
 to an European climate, and their passage had been 
 taken on one of the great ships, which intended to 
 make the voyage through the mighty new canal of the
 
 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 207 
 
 American isthmus. They had not left the harbour of 
 Nambu more than a few hours, when the sky, which 
 had been brilliantly clear, became lurid, and of a 
 sudden horribly overcast with a black driving mist. 
 " From that time," said Henrietta Albany, such was 
 the young lady's name, " all was terror and confusion, 
 the waves were at first not high, but the ship despite of 
 her gigantic powers was wholly unmanageable; now 
 spinning round with frightful rapidity, and then rushing 
 on with the velocity of some buoyant object shooting 
 over the smooth verge of a cataract ; at length vast seas 
 rolled in ceaseless succession over the vessel, which 
 trembled and groaned through all her mighty frame as 
 if on the eve of instant dissolution. My father hur- 
 ried to the upper deck we were preparing to follow, 
 when a horrid shock a roar like thunder and a brief 
 period of utter darkness left us only to imagine that all 
 hope was lost. On recovering my senses, which 
 wavered at this terrible moment, I felt that the vessel 
 was no longer in motion. By a dull light, which 
 began to stream in, pale and lustreless, through the 
 windows, I saw my dear, dear, mother extended evident- 
 ly lifeless on the floor alas, her delicate frame could
 
 208 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 
 
 not endure a shock so appalling ! her gentle spirit had 
 fled she had left me for ever. Her two principal 
 female servants had been in the chamber at the period 
 when we attempted to leave it had we succeeded all, 
 all must have perished with my poor father, and the 
 thousands, who like us, were temporary or permanent 
 occupants of the devoted vessel." 
 
 This brief narrative, you will easily believe, my dear 
 son, was not delivered as I now give it; but with 
 tears and sobs, and those passionate bursts of sorrow 
 which shake young hearts in the bitterness of their first 
 great grief; yet even her sorrow paused as with deep 
 wonder, and a deeper horror, she heard the dreadful 
 events I had to communicate in return. She had con- 
 ceived herself and her attendants to be the survivors of 
 an inexplicable shipwreck alas ! those congregated 
 in that limited chamber were but too probably the 
 survivors of the race of man ! 
 
 My story is nearly told for I need not add that Hen- 
 rietta Albany is your mother, Carlos ; the beloved mother 
 of that dear family whom we have endeavoured to inspire 
 with virtue, with true piety, and with that resignation 
 to the will of Providence which an awful calamity had
 
 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 209 
 
 taught to our own spirits. Thrown together by means 
 little short of miraculous our thoughts and feelings con- 
 nected by the strange similarity of our fate your mother, 
 all that was beautiful, all that was excellent, you will 
 not wonder, Carlos, that after the shock of recent sorrows 
 had been softened down by time into a tender sadness, 
 we became united before that Heaven which had willed 
 our meeting. Never for a moment have I had any 
 cause but to bless the goodness of that Providence which 
 in the hour of despair and desolation sent me so ines- 
 timable a comforter so dear a companion : but I have 
 a great duty to perform a duty to which it seems to 
 me I am called by the very circumstance of our mira- 
 culous preservation. I have prepared your mother for 
 it she weeps, but she assents. Carlos, it is borne in 
 upon my mind, that I have a high commission to seek 
 if there yet survive in islands like our own some 
 remnants of the human race. Perhaps they do, a 
 prey to the misfortunes of want and ignorance, from 
 which we have ourselves been preserved only by 
 an extraordinary concurrence of events if it ought 
 not to be called a miraculous dispensation. I cannot 
 conquer an impression, with which nevertheless, I
 
 210 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 
 
 have struggled from a sense of present happiness no 
 change can increase, that it may be reserved for 
 me to re-illumine the lamp of human knowledge, 
 to rekindle the smouldering flame of true religion 
 amongst mankind. It may be my lot to re-unite the 
 survivors of the human race under the banners of civili- 
 zation and society, to organise once more those combina- 
 tions which are the elements of power, the sources and 
 safeguards of enlightened happiness. 
 
 Continents upon which the foundations of the ocean 
 rested for countless ages, have, no doubt, been aban- 
 doned by its waves. There a rich and genial soil like 
 that of the primeval earth, as yet untasked by the 
 wants of mankind, may await the new human race. 
 Guided by the intelligence and armed with the science 
 of a former world, we shall more successfully than did 
 our fellow men in the dim ages of the early earth, and 
 more speedily, achieve those triumphs of perfect civilisa- 
 tion which a fatal catastrophe has for a time suspended. 
 Perhaps I am deluding myself by these anticipations; 
 but after attentively studying the nature of the calamity 
 I have endeavoured to describe, I cannot persuade 
 myself that this little island bears the sole survivors of
 
 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 211 
 
 that terrible day. Even if it does, we are bound to 
 anticipate, if possible, a period when it can no longer 
 provide, by means so limited, for the subsistence of an 
 increasing population, and this view alone would justify 
 the experiment I have decided upon making, while I 
 retain and can communicate a practical knowledge of that 
 art which might in another generation become but a 
 theory. A bold and fearless seaman in my youth glad, 
 in those beautiful vessels which my fortune enabled me 
 to command, to try my skill against the wave and the 
 breeze, I shall once more career with joy on the blue 
 waters ; but I have now many reasons for caution, and 
 many incentives to prudence I am too happy to be 
 rash. The vessel we have constructed from that 
 enormous wreck, has properties of perfect safety which 
 were undreamed of in the most sanguine visions of 
 ancient navigation; manned by Domingo and three of 
 his stout sons, with two of your own brave brothers, 
 Carlos, I shall embark in it with a fearless trust that, by 
 Heaven's blessing I shall, unlike the unfortunate adven- 
 turers of earlier ages, even if unsuccessful in the object of 
 my voyage at least return to my own happy home, con- 
 tented that I have not shunned what I thought my duty. 
 
 P2
 
 212 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 
 
 To you a more sacred charge belongs. You have 
 reached an age, and you are of character which justifies 
 my consigning it to you with a confidence as entire as 
 my affection. Rule our little community attend in 
 my absence to those things which are essential to the 
 general welfare I need not say, comfort your mother 
 and your dear sisters, or watch over those rising blossoms 
 who are even now giving promise of such goodly fruit 
 your own heart will in these things be a better teacher, 
 a better counsellor, than even a father. 
 
 At the next full moon, Carlos, I commence my 
 voyage ; with no vain confidence in my own fortune, no 
 presumptuous dependence upon the resources of intellect 
 or the aids of science ; but with a humble reliance upon 
 that Power into whose hands I reverently commit the 
 issue of my enterprize. If it be his will, I shall succeed. 
 Without his aid, I know my search will be in vain. 
 But my hopes are full of strength, and in my soul there 
 is a feeling which urges me to my undertaking with a 
 solemn intensity of impulse that will not be controlled. 
 See, my son, night has descended upon our discourse, 
 soft and shadowy, and weaving amidst her dark dewy 
 tresses the balm of this delicious climate. Myriads of
 
 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 213 
 
 fires, sapphire, and amethyst and pale emerald, glitter 
 with everlasting splendour in that glorious canopy ; but 
 mark, Carlos, yonder magnificent constellation, rising 
 with a burning lustre, in the south-east. It forms a 
 perfect cross Not to the fanciful mind of the astro- 
 nomer, but as distinct and defined in its surpassing 
 brilliancy, even to the careless eye's first glance, as that 
 which of old illumined, in the holy week, the vast aisles 
 of the Roman Basilica. My son, trust me when I tell 
 you that it had no place in our system, before the day 
 of the world's calamity. You have sought it vainly in 
 your most elaborate celestial globes and maps of the 
 stars. It existed not to human eyes when those were 
 constructed, but on the third night after that dark and 
 fearful dream for so even now it sometimes appears to 
 me it rose majestically above the horizon, dimming the 
 surrounding constellations with the intensity of its yet 
 mild lustre, and casting a long glory over the sleeping 
 ocean seemingly to the very spot on which I stood. 
 Oft since, at midnight, I have seen it glowing high in 
 heaven, flashing with undimmed glory through the full 
 flood of light which poured in silver radiance from the 
 bright urn of the clear summer moon. Often have
 
 214 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 
 
 I watched it setting in the far west, when night had 
 been as now glorious in her starry darkness, and when, 
 faint as the hope just springing in my heart, the 
 earliest tint of the approaching dawn trembled in the 
 opposite horizon. Yet ever as that grand constella- 
 tion has moved upon its wondrous path through the mys- 
 terious fields of heaven, there has hovered above it, to 
 my eye as palpable as the most brilliant of its clustered 
 stars, and in characters of lambent flame, that inspiring 
 legend which cheered the Roman soldier in a mightier 
 enterprise than mine. Even now, my son, those words 
 of fire are there. They speak to my soul with a voice of 
 promise. Thine eyes behold them not, but to me they 
 address the solemn command 
 
 " IN HOC SIGNO VINCES." 
 
 And shall I not obey this holy inspiration ? Shall I 
 again scorn in my presumption, and because they baffle 
 speculation and defy analysis, those mysterious influ- 
 ences which from beyond nature speak to the spirit of 
 man ? No ! I will go forth to accomplish my destiny, 
 in the humility of one conscious of his own weakness 
 with the confidence of one relying on Supreme wisdom 
 and goodness alone for safety and success. Carlos, here
 
 THE JUNCTION OF THE OCEANS. 215 
 
 beneath this glorious canopy of stars, by the light of 
 that magnificent constellation, which is the banner of 
 my hope, kneel with me pray with me that if I am 
 worthy of so high a destiny, to me it may be given to 
 discover, to console, to re-animate with hope, those 
 fragments of the human race which survived that to 
 me it may be permitted to point out for future gene- 
 rations the track to those vast realms which, reflection 
 assures me, must have been created by THE JUNCTION 
 
 OP THE OCEANS.
 
 THE SONG OF THE FORGE. 
 
 Clang, clang, 
 
 The massive anvils ring ; 
 Clang, clang, 
 
 A hundred hammers swing ; 
 Like the thunder rattle of a tropic sky 
 The mighty blows still multiply 
 Clang, clang. 
 
 Say, brothers of the dusky brow 
 What are your strong arms forging now ? 
 
 Clang, clang. "We forge the coulter now, 
 The coulter of the kindly plough : 
 
 Sweet Mary mother, bless our toil ! 
 May its broad furrow still unbind 
 To genial rains, to sun and wind, 
 
 The most benignant soil.
 
 THE SONG OF THE FORGE. 217 
 
 Clang, clang. Our coulter's course shall be 
 On many a sweet and sheltered lea, 
 
 By many a streamlet's silver tide ; 
 Amidst the song of morning birds, 
 Amidst the low of browzing herds, 
 Amidst soft breezes, which do stray 
 Through woodbine hedges and sweet May, 
 
 Along the green hill's side. 
 
 When regal Autumn's bounteous hand 
 With wide spread glory clothes the land, 
 
 When to the valleys, from the brow 
 Of each resplendent slope, is rolled 
 A ruddy sea of living gold, 
 
 We bless, we bless THE PLOUGH. 
 
 Clang, clang Again my mates what glows 
 Beneath the hammer's mighty blows ? 
 
 Clink, clank We forge the giant chain 
 Which bears the gallant vessel's strain 
 
 'Midst stormy winds, and adverse tides : 
 Secured by this, the good ship braves 
 The rocky roadstead and the waves 
 
 That dash against her sides.
 
 218 THE SONG OF THE FORGE. 
 
 Anxious no more, the merchant sees 
 The mist drive dark before the breeze, 
 
 The storm cloud on the hill ; 
 Calmly he rests, though far away 
 In boisterous climes his vessels lay ; 
 
 Keliant on our skill. 
 
 Say on what sands these links shall sleep 
 Fathoms beneath the solemn deep ; 
 By Afric's pestilential shore, 
 By many an iceberg lone and hoar, 
 By many a palmy eastern isle 
 Basking in ceaseless summer's smile, 
 By stormy Labrador ? 
 
 riay, will they feel the vessel reel, 
 When to the battery's deadly peal 
 
 The crashing broadside makes reply, 
 Or else, as at the glorious Nile, 
 Hold grappling ships, that strive the while 
 
 For death or victory?
 
 THE SONG OF THE FORGE. 219 
 
 Hurrah ! Clang, clang Once more what glows 
 Dark brothers of the Forge beneath 
 
 The iron tempest of your blows, 
 The furnace's red breath ? 
 
 Cling, clang a burning shower, clear, 
 And brilliant, of bright sparks is poured 
 
 Around, and up in the dusky air, 
 As our hammers forge THE SWORD. 
 
 The sword a name of dread ; yet when 
 Upon the freeman's thigh 'tis bound, 
 
 While for his altar and his hearth, 
 
 While for the land that gave him birth, 
 The war drums roll, the trumpets sound, 
 
 How sacred is it then ! 
 
 Whenever for the truth and right, 
 It flashes in the van of fight, 
 Whether in some wild mountain pass 
 As that where fell Leonidas ; 
 Or on some steril plain and stern, 
 A Marathon, or Bannockburn,
 
 220 THE SONG OF THE FORGE. 
 
 Or amidst crags and bursting rills, 
 The Switzer's Alps, grey Tyrol's hills. 
 Or, as when sank the Armada's pride, 
 It gleams above the stormy tide ; 
 
 Still, still, whene'er the battle word 
 Is Liberty where men do stand 
 For Justice and their native land, 
 
 Then Heaven bless THE SWOED.
 
 LINES WRITTEN AT ROME IN THE 
 COLOSSEUM. 
 
 i. 
 'Tis sunset, and a golden glow 
 
 Is o'er the Caesar's palace thrown, 
 And all above, around, below, 
 
 Shines as if earth had never known 
 One hour of woe. 
 
 H. 
 Vast as an excavated hill, 
 
 These walls, in ruin more sublime, 
 Those arches which the sunbeams fill, 
 All mellowed by the hand of time, 
 Gleam softer still. 
 
 Through silv'ry light and purple shade, 
 Flits to and fro each little bird, 
 
 Or rests secure and undismayed, 
 
 Where once a nation's voice was heard, 
 And trumpets brayed.
 
 LINES -WRITTEN AT HOME. 
 
 The wall-flower on the ruin'd wall, 
 Sheds its sweet incense to the hreeze, 
 
 Where erst the gold and silken pall, 
 Shaded the Koman's cruel ease, 
 The victim's fall. 
 
 Yes ! here the Eoman's haughty eye 
 Gazed coldly on the ghastly throng, 
 
 Who for his pastime learn' d to die ; 
 Those best, who could the most prolong 
 Death's agony. 
 
 Here as the martyr's palm was won, 
 Sublime, amidst the furious crew, 
 
 He pray'd, ere yet his course was run, 
 " Father, they know not what they do, 
 " Thy will be done."
 
 LINES WRITTEN A.T HOME. 223 
 
 Oh blessed change ! where groans and yells, 
 Borne on the crimson mist arose, 
 
 Offending heaven, the wild bird swells 
 His careless note, the wild flow'r blows, 
 And quiet dwells. 
 
 More blessed still, where every sod 
 
 Cried vengeance for those bloody games, 
 
 Where Christians died, and martyrs trod, 
 Yon symbol of our faith proclaims 
 The peace of God !
 
 AGINCOURT.
 
 AGmCOIJRT. 
 
 " Fought on the day of Crispin Crispianus." 
 
 SHAKSPEAUE. 
 
 (i::\TLESTof urbane readers, wert thou at the fight 
 of Azincourt or Agincourt, " Fought on the day of 
 Crispin Crispianus : " Didst thou scurry to the rescue 
 of the King with "Davy Gam, Esquire," plying thy 
 "Welsh hook, or albeit thy mell, with a swing and a 
 thwack like the fall of a pavior's rammer ; smashing 
 French helmets as nutshells, and driving splintered 
 vizors into miserable faces, until Alencon topples down 
 like a falling tower of steel and gold. Eue reins up, 
 Brabant holds hard his snorting charger, and Harry 
 Monmouth, on his legs again, cries " Diou et les 
 dames ! " " St. George for merry England ! " 
 
 Header, if a " Gent," I need not ask thee twice. 
 Thou scllest butter, or perchance thou shapest the curious 
 coat, or, bagman, travellest an annual round. Thy chin 
 is shorn, thy face is as muffin, thy legs switches, thine 
 arms witheys, thy breast chicken, thy ribs spare ribs, 
 thy coat a swallow- tailed wonder, thy waistcoat half a
 
 226 AGrxcouRT. 
 
 yard of thy grandmother's farthingale, thy trousers two 
 pillow-cases ill-stuffed, thy cigar a smell, thy breath 
 a cigar thyself ! No ! thou couldest never have been 
 at Agincourt ! Why the very " whiff and wind of the 
 fell swords " which cleft the air by the pleasant banks 
 of Soane on that auspicious day, had divorced thy 
 feeble spirit from thine insignificant frame. The earth 
 thunder of that despairing charge, when Brabant and 
 his men-at-arms flung themselves, reckless of life, 
 against the English line in a wild effort to retrieve the 
 fight, had dissevered thy small soul from its attenuated 
 habitation. 
 
 But whither does our contempt of these degenerate 
 days, our reverence for the stirring times of martial eld, 
 hurry us ! Alas ! miserable and discourteous caitiff' 
 that we are, even for a moment to forget that this 
 humble page may not only be looked upon by the un- 
 worthier sex, but may be lighted by the glance of fair, 
 bright, beautiful eyes into a brilliancy which no feeble 
 efforts of our own could ever confer on these poor lucu- 
 brations. Miserable caitiff that we are ! not rather to 
 address ourselves respecting aught concerning chivalry 
 and high emprise, the splintering of lances and immortal
 
 227 
 
 losse and honor, to the roses of the world, to the sweet 
 halcyons who calm the troubled waters of life, the 
 lilies of the valley, the sunshine of the mountain tops, 
 to ever blessed, ever blessing woman. Dearest lady, 
 neither wert thou at Agincourt. It was no fault of 
 thine ; but if thine ancestress, as fair as thou, had stood 
 upon the walls of that antique castle, which you see 
 rising yonder from the summit of a purple rock amidst 
 embowering woods, and overlooked the fight, we should 
 no longer wonder at those deeds of more than mortal 
 valor, those feats of derringdo with which the good 
 knights of England and of France performed their 
 devoir " upon the day of Crispin Crispianus." 
 
 But, come ladies, let us leave the finished men, 
 polished as their boots, the dandies, the gentleman of 
 studied simplicity of exterior, unmoved as a North 
 American Indian, even when the footman, so declareth 
 North American Willis, spills wine on his waistcoat, 
 
 and 
 
 " Mistress of himself though China fall." 
 
 Let us leave these people, "Ah, how unlike their 
 Norman sires of old!" and I will take you to where 
 brave men woahonour for their dear ladies' sake, making 

 
 228 AG1NCOUET. 
 
 offerings of gallant deeds to bright eyes. And you shall 
 see the glittering of the casques, " That did affright 
 the air at Agincourt," and hear the crash of lances, 
 and the clang of encountering swords, and the -wild 
 whistling of the gallant yeoman's arrow, and the sound 
 of trumpets in the brave old verse of MICHAEL DRAYTON. 
 
 Quit we this rhodomontadc, and let us turn to a 
 fine antique ballad, rarely quoted, and to the best 
 of our recollection little noticed, by poetical critics, 
 though assuredly only second in power and vividness of 
 imagery, and truth of description, to Chevy Chase itself. 
 It is " refreshing," as the cockneys say, to come during 
 the apathy of an afternoon's idle reading, as was our 
 chance, upon such a stirring outburst of the muse ; 
 especially in these disastrous times when verse is 
 poured forth in a quantity and of a quality sufficient to 
 make us believe that it is woven, like long ells, by 
 machinery. There is not the marrow of sincerity 
 iu the poetry of these later days. We spin it from 
 our heads, from our prejudices, from our experiences, 
 
 from our reading, from everything rather than our 
 
 *
 
 AGINCOT7ET. 229 
 
 hearts. How differently the old minstrel plunges into 
 the solemn yet simple glories of his song ! There is 
 no flourish, no overture, with clang of drums and 
 snatches of airs from the coming opera, to rouse 
 the reader's attention, no note of preparation, no 
 description of the sunrise "gilding the eastern horizon," 
 as Mr. Puff says, or of the " dark blue sea," or of a 
 mysterious gentleman with an indomitable will who 
 slaps his forehead and wears six brace of pistols. Xo ! 
 
 " Stout Percy of Northumberland a vow to God does make, 
 Or 
 
 " Henry our noble King would ride a hunting." 
 
 This is all the announcement to which the poet con- 
 descends, and the terse bard around whose strong text 
 we are about to entwine our poor remarks, as the feeble 
 ivy wreaths the gnarled oak, dashes into his old bold 
 song with a fine confidence, second only to that with 
 which Harry Monmouth flung his bills and bows upon 
 the coast of Normandy. 
 
 MICHAEL DRAYTON TO THE CAMBRIO BRITONS AND 
 THEIR HARP, HIS BALLAD OF AGINCOURT. 
 Fair stood the wind for France, 
 When we our sails advance, 
 Nor now to prove our chance 
 Longer will tarry ;
 
 230 AGrNCOTTHT. 
 
 But putting to the main, 
 At Kaux, the mouth of Seine, 
 With all his martial train, 
 Landed King Harry. 
 
 To be sure he did. What cared he for the " Law 
 salique that they had in France ?" Besides, had not 
 Henricus Chicheley comforted him in the matter with 
 an oration half a mile long, and, in a special pleading, 
 not to be surpassed by Lord Lyndhurst's best, made his 
 right of succession as clear as daylight ; and perfectly 
 satisfied the tender conscience of our old friend of the 
 Boar's Head, who happened, in the luckiest manner 
 imaginable, to be judge and jury on this occasion in his 
 own case? "Was not our own gracious George the 
 third, King of France, even when there happened to be 
 another sovereign at Hartwell, and a third at Paris, 
 " Three Kings of Brentford ? " and should Harry Mon- 
 mouth, who lived four centuries nearer to " the defunc- 
 tion of King Pharamond, idly supposed the founder of 
 this law," have any misgivings on the subject ; 
 especially after Archbishop Chicheley had clenched the 
 business with a quotation from the book of Numbers ? 
 No ! after cutting off a few who would have cut him off 
 at Southampton, and no doubt striking a hart or two in
 
 AGINCOURT. 231 
 
 the pleasant glades of the New Forest, he started, like a 
 gallant as he was, with such a rush as a thorough-bred 
 horse makes at an ox-fence, or a hull dog at a hear ; and 
 how boldly in his wake follows old " Poly Olbion." He 
 throws himself at once " in media s res," launching 
 his song like a first-rate taking sovereignty of the waves, 
 into which she plunges her mighty quarters, after such a 
 fashion, that you are sure nothing short of those eternal 
 barriers with which nature girds the ocean can possibly 
 stop her most majestic course. This is the very spirit of 
 that old world ballad poetry where the bard is too full 
 of his subject to waste time either in reflections or 
 descriptions. There is no " descend oh muse ! " no 
 laboured introductory lines, where bright skies rhyme 
 to eyes, and dark seas jingle with ease. No ! the one 
 thing needful to be known, was whether the wind was 
 west and by nothe half nothe, and this Michael Drayton 
 gives you to comprehend by a single sweep along the 
 chords of his bold harp. 
 
 " Fair stood the wind for France, 
 When we our sails advance." 
 
 What mattered it that a hundred argosoys of the 
 Hanse Towns were unable to beat through the Categat,
 
 232 AGIN-COUHT. 
 
 and that half the commerce of Spain was driving on a 
 lea shore across the mountain waves of the Bay of 
 Biscay. The wind was fair for France; it filled the 
 sails which bore the warriors of the red cross on their 
 foes, and although elsewhere 
 
 " Forests were rended, 
 And navies were stranded," 
 
 what did it signify either to Harry Monmouth or to 
 Michael Drayton ? 
 
 Drayton hath a longer and more elaborated poem touch- 
 ing this same battle of Agincourt. It seems to have been 
 a favourite theme of his, and the poet of " The Barons 
 wars," had evidently a hankering after martial subjects. 
 His harp must have rung as it were with trumpet calls 
 and the sound of drums. But in the longer poem the 
 vigorous elder does not manifest the fire, the terseness, the 
 hardihood shewn in the bold ballad upon wliich we 
 now exercise our unworthy pen ; loving to dream all the 
 while, that the far progenitor of the bird who bore it, 
 may have lent a feather to steady the flight of some brave 
 yoeman's cloth yard shaft at the great battle. In the 
 longer poem, Drayton, besides favouring us with Henry 
 Chicheley's preachment at greater length than even
 
 AGINCOUET. 233 
 
 Shakspere himself, both paraphrasing Hall, obliges his 
 gentle reader with a most bloody minded account of the 
 siege of Harfleur, pithily intimating the extreme valor 
 of the besieging commander after the following homely 
 fashion 
 
 " In all their sights he (Harry Monmouth) sets his army down, 
 And for their shot lie careth not a pin, 
 But seeks where he his battery may begin." 
 
 In the ballad, however, there is no time to besiege 
 towns. The song rushes on like fire amongst dry 
 heather. The poet lumps the captivated cities without 
 ceremony, and pounces with the swoop of an eagle on 
 the field of battle. 
 
 And taking many a fort, 
 Furnish' d in warlike sort, 
 Marcheth towards Agincourt 
 
 In happy hour, 
 Skirmishing day by day, 
 With those that stopp'd his way, 
 Where the French gen'ral lay, 
 
 With all his power. 
 
 This is something in the good old English " Sunk, 
 taken, and destroyed, as per margin" style, houseless 
 circumlocution. The king jumps, as Napier hath it, 
 with both feet on any unhappy fortalice that happens
 
 234 AGIKCOUET. 
 
 to lay in his way, and having ground it to powder 
 beneath his " armed heel," marches on towards Agin- 
 court " In happy hour." But what sayeth the French- 
 man who lies at Agincourt "with all his power?" 
 It had already heen decided at Rouen, hy a majority of 
 fifty-five to five, that hattle should be delivered. Charles 
 D'Albret hath ranged his force, Ban and Arriere Ban, 
 the Knights of Hainault and of Flanders, the chivalry 
 of France and Burgundy, in front of the village of 
 Azincourt. He has little fear of the morrow. He is a 
 Frenchman, and assuredly that excellent nation, what- 
 ever else it may want, never wants a most happy spice 
 of self-confidence. Therefore, says Drayton 
 
 Which in his height of pride, 
 King Henry to deride, 
 His ransom to provide 
 
 To the King sending, 
 Which he neglects the while, 
 As from a nation vile, 
 Yet tcith an angry smile, 
 
 Their fall portending. 
 
 And turning to his men, 
 Quoth our brave Henry then, 
 " Though they to one be ten, 
 Be not amazed,
 
 AGINCOURT. 235 
 
 Yet have we well begun, 
 Battles so bravely won, 
 Have ever to the sun 
 By fame been raised." 
 
 That " angry smile" of Harry Monmouth's portended 
 little good to the Constable and his chivalry. There 
 must have been a lingering of its dark light on the 
 king's countenance, -when he desired his staff to " kill 
 the poys and the luggage," which we agree with the 
 worthy Fluellen was a proceeding un peufort; but then 
 what in the name of St. Dennis could induce Robinet 
 de Bournonville, and Ysambert d'Azincourt, to enter 
 Maisoncelles with their ragamuffins, plunder the baggage, 
 and drive away the horses, just at the very time that 
 the king was still bothered with the third division of 
 the Frenchman's battle in his front ? It is enough to 
 anger the most meek spirited of generals, to be taken in 
 the rear after such an unceremonious fashion, and our 
 good king had inhaled with his first breath, on the 
 pleasant banks of Wye, the choleric atmosphere of the 
 Cymri. Perhaps he sufficiently repented him of his 
 haste when he had time, though there appears to be no 
 record on the subject. At all events he sang a Psalm
 
 236 
 
 after the fray, " In exitu Israel de Egypto," which must 
 have heen very edifying to all concerned, and no doubt 
 afforded infinite consolation to the ghosts of the ten 
 thousand who had suffered for the impertinence of 
 Hobinet de Bournonville and Ysambert d'Azincourt. 
 
 Louis Bonaparte had a crude idea, a very odd one for 
 a brother of Napoleon, and which a little hammering 
 might bring into a veiy startling shape, that military 
 glory was one of the most potent baits with which 
 Sathanas is permitted in these latter days to arm 
 his hooks. Towns burned, countries laid under 
 water, corn-fields trampled, fruit-trees cut down for 
 fuel, innocent people blown into fragments by Con- 
 greveian missiles, others starved into eating their own 
 little children without even the relish of that famous 
 sauce under the stimulus of which a man might devour 
 the Pope ; these are the ordinary and legitimate standing 
 dishes of a state of warfare, served up by the best behaved 
 and most devout armies in the way of their profession. 
 
 Of the entremets, murder, pillage, and other little 
 et cteteras, which the single soldier of foot or horse 
 tosses up for his own particular consolation, we say 
 nothing ; Seeing that they are not in the regular cuisine 

 
 AGIXCOT7RT. 237 
 
 iiiilitaire but are simply proffered as stimuli when it is 
 dtsirable that the gentlemen " who trail the puissant 
 pike," should fall to on the work before them " with a 
 will" as at Magdeberg, Ismail, Badajos, and Gerona. 
 Xow, although both the belligerent parties partici- 
 pate in the amusements above noticed, it is not easy to 
 imagine that they can both enjoy them with equal 
 blamelessness. In other words, though starving three 
 thousand women and children to death may be a hard 
 necessity forced upon any given General Bombastes and 
 his "brave army" which is fighting for the right, it 
 cannot be forced upon the brave army which is fighting 
 for the wrong, inasmuch as that they have no business 
 to fight at all. However, perhaps it may be as well, 
 with those two peripatetic philosophers, Bates and 
 Williams, to lay it " all upon the king," and truly this 
 is not so bad a mode of getting out of the dilemma 
 where. 1 the law of conscription, or the press-gang, pre- 
 sents the argument ready made to every bellicose 
 gentleman who draws a trigger or handles a boarding 
 pike. But it is not altogether so available to John Bul- 
 lock, who voluntarily enlists in the hundred and twenty - 
 I'ourth foot, tempted thereunto partly through distaste
 
 238 A.GINCOUBT. 
 
 of life engendered by his recent quarrel with Man' 
 Duggins, and partly by the brilliant prospect of three 
 halfpence per diem pocket-money. Still less is that 
 flattering unction for the soul available to the Honor- 
 able Mortimer Fitz-Mortimer who enters the fortieth 
 hussars for the sake of nothing on earth but what Mr. 
 Sheridan, in the "Critic," calls "a very fine waist- 
 coat " 
 
 After all, the sentiment of that unimpugnable mili- 
 tary authority, Captain Dugald Dalgetty, may be con- 
 sidered as the most consolatory and comfortable for all 
 parties. "Storms, onslaughts, massacres," says this 
 worthy individual, " the burning of suburbs, are a 
 soldier's daily work, and are justified by the necessity 
 of the case, seeing that they are done in the course of 
 duty. For burning of suburbs in particular, it may be 
 said that they are traitors and cut-throats to all forti- 
 fied towns. Hence it is plain, that a soldier's is a 
 profession peculiarly favoured by Heaven, seeing that 
 we may hope for salvation, although we daily commit 
 actions of so great violence." 
 
 But return we to the King and his host, to whom 
 his Highness had first communicated the pleasing
 
 AGINCOtJET. 239 
 
 intelligence that they were, in comparison with the 
 R-enchmen, as one to ten, exhorting them at the same 
 time to "be not amazed," a thing infinitely less easy 
 to practise than to preach on such occasions ; at least it 
 is our humble but earnest impression that the majority 
 of warriors, however pugnaciously disposed, would feel 
 very particularly "amazed" if they were collectively 
 apprized that on the morrow following each was on his 
 own special behoof, and for his own peculiar content- 
 ment, to do battle with ten gentlemen armed in proof, 
 and possessing all the will in the world to send their 
 opponent out of it. Not so the King. Like Caesar, he 
 and danger were 
 
 " Two lions littered in one day, 
 And he the elder and more terrible." 
 
 To repeat Poly Olbion's words, " He careth not a 
 pin" for the ten to one. Does he not mingle in the tide 
 of warlike blood which fires his heart, that of the 
 Richards, the Edwards and the Henrys? Of that 
 wonderful race of Plantaganet, wise in council, strong in 
 war, the first men amongst a people of heroes ? Before 
 whose battle banner the fierce Saracen had quailed, the 
 stubborn Scot recoiled, the kerne of the Emerald Island
 
 240 
 
 vanished amidst his mists, and the fiery Frank furled 
 the Oriflame on his native fields of France? Harry 
 Monmouth recollects the deeds done in that same land 
 by his " great uncle, Edward the Black Prince " 
 
 " While his most mighty father on a hill 
 Stood smiling to hehold the lion's whelp 
 Forage in blood of French nohility," 
 
 and he who could seek Henry Percy and the black 
 Douglas through the fierce tide of war that inundated 
 the field of Shrewsbury, is not a likely man to proffer 
 his sword, hilt foremost, to Charles D' Albret and Antony 
 
 of Brabant. 
 
 " And for myself" quoth he 
 This my full rest shall be, 
 England ne'er mourn for me, 
 
 Nor more esteem me. 
 Victor I will remain, 
 Or on this earth lie slain, 
 Never shall she sustain 
 Loss to redeem me. 
 
 " Poitiers and Cressy tell, 
 When most their pride did swell, 
 Under our swords they fell, 
 
 No less our skill is ; 
 Than when our grandsire great 
 Claiming the royal seat 
 By many a warlike feat 
 
 Lopp'd ttte French lilies."
 
 AGINCOURT. 241 
 
 Leonidas at old Thermopylae was not greater. The 
 sentiments of the umqwhile, " nimble footed, mad cap 
 Prince of Wales" are positively Spartan. And then the 
 bold and vivid image of lopping the French lilies ! but 
 lie was just the man to repeat the course of horticulture 
 so successfully practised by his great grandsire in the 
 fields of France. The night before the battle was cold 
 and dreary, the stars gleamed few and faint between the 
 driving clouds, reddened as those were at times by the 
 fires of the vast French bivouac. The damp breezes of 
 autumn swept the wide plain with hollow wailing, 
 " shrill through the hawthorn blew the cold wind," 
 and the numbed soldiers were ever and anon exposed 
 to cutting showers of sleet and rain. We are not 
 speaking of the night before Waterloo, but of the night 
 before the day of Crispin Crispianus. 
 
 "To the English," says the historian, "to the 
 English it was a night of hope and fear, of suspense 
 and anxiety. They had been wasted with disease, 
 broken with fatigue, and weakened by the many priva- 
 tions which must attend the march of an army through 
 a hostile country, and in the presence of a superior 
 force. But they were supported by the spirit and con-
 
 242 AGINCOtTBT. 
 
 fidence of their heroic leader, and by the proud recol- 
 lection of the victories won in similar circumstances by 
 their fathers. As men, however, who had staked their 
 lives on the issue of the approaching battle, they spent 
 their intervening moments in making their wills, and in 
 attending to the exercises of religion. The king him- 
 self took little repose. He visited the different quarters 
 of the army, sent, as soon as the moon arose, officers to 
 examine the ground, arranged the operations of the 
 next day, ordered bands of music to play in succession 
 during the night, and before sunrise summoned the men 
 to attend matins and mass. From prayer he led them 
 into the field." The murmur of thousands pronouncing 
 the last, solemn Amen, the last, indeed, to many a 
 tongue in that worn yet gallant host, was answered 
 by the trumpet-call, and the drum that beat to arms. 
 
 Many of the English yeomen stripped themselves, 
 others bared arm and breast that, in drawing the cloth - 
 yard shaft to the very head, each nerve, each muscle 
 might have full play. They were ready to advance 
 with hearts fenced only with native courage, with 
 bodies unguarded, and unhelmeted heads against the 
 steel-clad chivalry of France and Flanders. That
 
 AGINCOURT. 243 
 
 " astonishing infantry," were the same in all ages, and 
 stood in as little awe of the mailed cavalier at Agincourt 
 as at Waterloo. 
 
 But hark ! the trumpets blow the hattle signal, and 
 the banner of England, " Trea flores aurei et tres leapardi 
 aurei" according to Elmham, "floats out gloriously on 
 the morning breeze." The king himself appeared on a 
 grey palfrey, followed by a train of led horses orna- 
 mented with the most gorgeous trappings. His helmet 
 was of polished steel, surmounted by a crown sparkling 
 with jewels ; and on his surcoat were emblazoned in 
 gold the arms of England and France. As he rode 
 from banner to banner, cheering and exhorting the 
 men, he chanced to hear an officer express a wish to his 
 comrade that some of the good knights who were sitting 
 idle in England, might by a miracle be transported to 
 the field of battle. 
 
 " No," exclaimed Henry, " I would not have a single 
 man more. If God gives us the victory, it will be plain 
 that we owe it to his goodness ; if he do not, the less 
 will be the loss to our country. But fight with your 
 usual courage, and God and the justice of our cause will 
 protect us. Before night the pride of our enemies shall 
 
 R 2
 
 244 AGINCOUBT. 
 
 be humbled in the dust, and the greater part of that 
 multitude shall be stretched on the field, or captives in 
 our power." 
 
 'Tis better in Shakspear, who was doubtless furnished 
 by some delicate Ariel of his familiar spirits with the 
 veiy words of the martial King. But there is no more 
 time for talking ; 
 
 " The French are bravely in their battle set." 
 
 And "brave York," who cuts a better figure now than 
 as Rutland, or Aumerle, that " dangerous cousin," low 
 on his knee, doth " beg the leading of the vaward." 
 But a few short hours and he shall be lower still. 
 " Thrice within this hour," says the King, 
 
 " Thrice within this hour 
 I saw him down, thrice up again and fighting ; 
 From helmet to the spur all blood he was." 
 
 As yet, however, these things are in the womb of 
 time ; but had they been shadowed forth by dim hosts 
 encountering in the air, "brave York" was not the 
 knight to lose in honor that he might save in blood. 
 
 "Banners advance," cries the king. At the same 
 moment Sir Thomas Erpingham cast his warder " high
 
 AGINCOITBT. 245 
 
 in the air," a signal, as it should seem to the archery 
 ambushed in the meadow at Tramecourt on the left 
 flank of the French, and the men, falling on their 
 knees, bit the ground, arose, shouted, and ran towards 
 the enemy. 
 
 The Duke of York so dread, 
 The eager vaward led ; 
 With the main Henry sped, 
 
 Amongst his hench-men ; 
 Excester had the rear, 
 A braver man not there, 
 Lord, how hot they were 
 
 On the false Frenchmen ! 
 
 Do you not see them ? Do you not see the iron tide 
 of England's war rolling in terrible waves right on the 
 Frenchmen's host ? Small is the pomp and glitter of 
 those redoubtable columns. They " are but warriors 
 for the working day." But they are true of heart, 
 strong of hand, confident without boasting ; the 
 worthy progenitors of those valiant sons of England 
 heirs to the long line of the indomitable Briton, 
 the dauntless Saxon, the stubborn Dane, the chivalric 
 Xorman, of whom the poet sings
 
 246 AGINCOUET. 
 
 " Hers their bold port, and hers their martial frown, 
 And hers their scorn of death in freedom's cause, 
 Their eyes of azure and their locks of brown, 
 
 And the blunt speech that bursts without a pause, 
 And free born thoughts which league the soldier with the laws. 
 
 The worthy progenitors, we repeat were they of those 
 valiant men who carried the war storm and the " Leo- 
 pards " of England from the rock of Lisbon to the battle- 
 ment of Toulouse, and from the forest of Soignes to 
 the towers of Notre Dame. And then their leaders ! 
 Henry amidst his Henchmen, York " so dread," 
 Excester " a braver man not there " not our modern 
 clipped English Exeter, title meaningless and spiritless ; 
 but the Lord of Excester : the castra or camp upon the 
 Ex, sweet silvery river of green meadows, whence 
 the haughty Roman bridled the wild and martial 
 Dumnoni. 
 
 They now to fight are gone, 
 Armour on armour shone, 
 Drum now to drum did groan, 
 
 To hear, was wonder ; 
 That with the cries they make, 
 The very earth did shake, 
 Trumpet to trumpet spake, 
 
 Thunder to thunder.
 
 AGINCOTTRT. 247 
 
 Well it thine age became, 
 noble Erpingham, 
 Which didst the signal aim 
 
 To our hid forces ; 
 When, from a meadow by, 
 Like a storm suddenly, 
 The English archery 
 
 Struck the French horses. 
 
 With Spanish yew so strong, 
 Arrows a cloth-yard long, 
 That like to serpents stung 
 
 Piercing the weather ; 
 None from his fellow starts, 
 But playing manly parts 
 And like true English hearts, 
 
 Stuck close together. 
 
 Aye, " close together ! " Shoulder to shoulder, 
 showering their arrows so that the French might, 
 like the Spartans of old, fight in the shade ; a dismal 
 shade for them; Hades, or like " Demagorgon a tre- 
 mendous gloom." " Piercing the weather" too, a terse 
 idea enough of worthy Poly Olbion. But finer still, 
 rising to the sublimity of the battle of the Baltic or 
 Hoenlinden, is the fiery description of that avalanche of 
 cloth yard shafts, which " like a storm suddenly, struck 
 the French horses" We can pity those barbed steeds,
 
 248 AGINCOURT. 
 
 wild with the torture of such terrific gad-flies ; master- 
 less, fallen, blinded, screaming, plunging fetlock deep in 
 blood ; yerking out their armed heels at disabled despair- 
 ing riders. And awful too was the plight of those bold 
 knights of France in gilded harness and gorgeous sur- 
 coats, as became gentlemen of good quarterings, in that 
 confused bloody mass upon which 
 
 " Poured England's arrow flight like rain, 
 while 
 
 " Crests rose and sank, and rose again, 
 Wild and disorderly." 
 
 The Constable had specially handed over the British 
 archers to the tender attentions of a thousand picked 
 men at arms; but, says the Historian, of the whole 
 number not more than seven score ever came into action. 
 How could they, when no armour tempered in mortal 
 stithy was proof against those terrible shafts, that " like 
 to serpents stung?" Those, continues the narrative, 
 alluding to the unhappy seventy, were quickly dis- 
 patched ; the others, unable to face the incessant shower 
 of arrows, turned their visors aside and lost all govern- 
 ment of their horses, which, frantic with pain, plunged 
 in different directions into the close ranks of the first
 
 AGINCOT7ET. 249 
 
 division. The advantage was not lost upon the English 
 archery, who forthwith put their hest leg foremost, with 
 the amiable intention of rendering confusion worse con- 
 founded 
 
 When down their bows they threw, 
 
 And forth their bilboes drew, 
 
 And on the French they flew, 
 Not one was tardy ; 
 
 Anns were from shoulders sent, 
 
 Scalps to the teeth were rent, 
 
 Down the French peasants went, 
 Our inen were hardy. 
 
 This while our noble king, 
 His broad sword brandishing, 
 Down the French host did ding, 
 
 As to o'erwhelm it ; 
 And many a deep wound lent, 
 His arms with blood besprent, 
 And many a cruel dent, 
 
 Bruised his helmet. 
 
 Of course it did ; every gallant Frenchman, and there 
 never was any want of gallant Frenchmen, " bruised 
 his helmet " if he could get at it, as in duty bound. It 
 was a fair honest stand-up fight, that delectable gratifica- 
 tion to every true born Englishman. In despite of the 
 battered pot upon his head, Harry Monmouth would 
 not have been elsewhere, as Lord Nelson said, "for a
 
 250 AGINCOUET. 
 
 thousand pounds." He stands over stunned Clarence as 
 a lion guards his whelp. Eighteen French knights who 
 made a dead set at the king have gone down, and many 
 a true English heart with them. There is no playing 
 at soldiers here. A nineteenth ! 'tis the valiant Alencon. 
 "With one stroke of his steel mace he heats down the 
 Duke of York, with another he shivers the crown on the 
 king's helmet. Alencon is on his mailed Hainault 
 horse ; the king is on foot, or he would, as Athelstone of 
 Coningsborough said, have dealt him such a counter 
 buff as should have spoiled his retreat. But, poor 
 fellow, poor Alenfon, it is all one to him for that matter. 
 The crown of England is not to be shivered with im- 
 punity. "Were there a thousand Alencons in one ho 
 is as dead as Diodorus Siculus. Before the king can 
 save his brave foe, who cries quarter, a dozen hot 
 "Welchmen with bills and mells rush like a whirlwind 
 to their royal compatriot's rescue, and with clanging 
 Cymri oaths and wild cries have sent the bold Frank to 
 his ancestors' Valhalla. Peace to the brave ! Honour 
 to the valiant dead ! On, sons of the red cross, and 
 complete the victory won "On the day of Crispin 
 Crispianus."
 
 AGINCOUET. 251 
 
 Glo'ster, that duke so good, 
 Xext of the royal blood, 
 For famous England stood, 
 
 With his brave brother ; 
 Clarence in steel so bright, 
 Though but a maiden knight, 
 Yet in that furious fight 
 
 Scarce such another. 
 
 Warwick in blood did wade, 
 Oxford the foe invade, 
 And cruel slaughter made, 
 
 Still as they ran up ; 
 Suffolk his ax did ply, 
 Beaumont and Willoughby, 
 Bare them right doughtily 
 
 Ferrers and Fanhope. 
 
 Spirit of chivalry, what a roll of gallant names! 
 Warwick, Oxford, Beaumont, "Willoughby ! names 
 wliich had been heard above the din of battle from the 
 Pyrennees to the Grampians, from the shores of the sea 
 of Galilee and the banks of Kedron, to those of Loch 
 8 willy. 
 
 But the French host is shattered into fragments, 
 wildly and vainly struggling with the rush of 
 England's war, before whose mighty sweep those frag- 
 ments scatter more and more in wild divergence from
 
 252 AGINCOURT. 
 
 each other, like storm clouds when the strength of the 
 gale is breaking The battle is won The French 
 herald will come no more for ransom The might 
 of the realm is struck down the crown of Phara- 
 mond is at the foot of Harry Monmouth ' ' drenched 
 in the blood of French nobility," and for Michael 
 Drayton there remains nought to do but to tell us 
 that 
 
 Upon St. Crispin's day 
 Fought was this noble fi-ay, 
 Which fame did not delay, 
 
 To England to carry ; 
 0, when shall English men, 
 With such acts fill a pen, 
 Or England breed again 
 
 Such a King Harry ! 
 
 Fare thee well, honest Michael, on whom, singing 
 to the Cambrian Harp, did fall some portion of the old 
 bardish spirit. "Well hast thou sung thy bold rough 
 song ; rude, perchance, to the moodish, mawkish taste 
 of modern times, for it hath in it none of the philosophy 
 of things ; no metaphysics in rhyme ; no mighty 
 emotions of the deep passionate and mysterious 
 gloomy in octo-syllabic verse, but is a blunt soldierly
 
 AGIXCOUET. 253 
 
 lay which he who runs may read, and reading, 
 feel, that it is an outpouring of the Muse suiting a 
 gallant theme of English hardihood, such as martial 
 Harry's own Laureat would have consecrated to the 
 day of CRISPIN CEISPIANUS.
 
 SKETCHES FROM SHAKSPERIAN TEXTS.
 
 SKETCHES FROM SHAKSPEBIAN TEXTS. 
 
 Shakspere. 
 
 Great Spirit, from the azure vault of morn, 
 
 From caves with talismanic gems empearled, 
 
 From haunted glens, whence the blue smoke wreaths 
 
 curled 
 
 Of witchfires, from those desolate isles forlorn, 
 \Vhere echoes sigh 'midst crags all tempest worn, 
 Winds swept thy lyre ; while round, with wings un- 
 furled, 
 
 Stood thoughts, swift ministers, to gird the world 
 At thy strong bidding, Lord of times unborn. 
 But deeper than the fountains which outpoured 
 External nature's wonders to thine eye, 
 Deeper than the burning caves from whence upsoared 
 Hags, fiends, and sprites, thou only could' st espy; 
 Thou sought' st and won, that region unexplored 
 Man's heart to all but Thee an awful mystery.
 
 2.36 SKETCHES FROM 
 
 THE VENETIAN PLAYS. 
 
 The Merchant of Venice. 
 
 Venice, sweet city of romance, though set 
 Thy star, so long undimmed, thy poAver departed, 
 And thou liest desolate and broken hearted, 
 
 Thou art imagination's sovereign yet ; 
 And chief of ours, -whose matchless bard hath made 
 Thy glories live till now, in their old pomp arrayed. 
 His wondrous page brings back thy proudest hours, 
 The galleys rocking in thy busy port, 
 The mart of nations, and the world's resort ; 
 The dusky gondola, swift gliding where 
 The shadow of some princely palace falls, 
 The torches gleaming on the wave washed stair, 
 The Adriatic plashing against halls 
 Of marble and of gold, and murmuring round thy towers.
 
 SHAKSPEKIAJf TEXTS. 257 
 
 OtMlo. 
 
 " The Moor ! I know his trumpet." See the smile 
 
 Of glad affection kindle his bold eyes, 
 
 As to his noble heart he clasps a prize 
 
 Worth all the treasures of " The Warlike Isle." 
 
 The Moor ! A shadow hath passed o'er his soul, 
 
 He looks upon that gentle lady now 
 
 With haggard glance, clenched hands, and knitted brow, 
 
 While down her sweet pale cheek the tears unbidden roll. 
 
 The Moor ! stands he alone within the gloom 
 
 Of that dim chamber ? would he were alone ! 
 
 Follow his burning looks as they are thrown 
 
 On yonder innocent sleeper, speaking doom. 
 
 The dagger gleams vain are her stifled cries, 
 
 Blessing her cruel lord, poor Desdemona dies.
 
 258 SKETCHES FKOM 
 
 The Roman Plays. 
 
 Hark to the trumpets of magnificent Rome 
 Sounding her march over the necks of nations, 
 Pealing her fame to unborn generations. 
 Lo ! the Tarpeian rock ; and there the dome 
 Of the Capitoline Jupiter, outrolled 
 In the Italian sky, a cloud of burning gold. 
 High in the crystal air, on many a pile 
 Of variegated marble, gardens smile, 
 Where senators, in snowy robes arrayed, 
 Hold converse grave of Parthian battles won, 
 Or whisper " He has passed the Rubicon," 
 By clear cool fountains in the plane trees' shade 
 Thence turn we to the yellow Tiber's side, 
 Threading the streets of Rome, with Shaksperc for our 
 guide.
 
 SHAKSPEEIAN TEXTS. 259 
 
 Jtdhis 
 
 " Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony." 
 
 The Forum hath no voice. But time has been 
 
 When the divinity of eloquence 
 
 Poured forth his burning oracles from thence 
 
 To the charmed world Arise again great scene 
 
 Of wondrous deeds Hark to that hollow sound 
 
 Like the muttering of thunder, or the roar 
 
 Of ocean smitten by a tempest ! Out they pour 
 
 From every street, the tribes of Rome, and round 
 
 The rostrum swarm ; then still as death they stand 
 
 Gazing on one in whose Majestic mien, 
 
 And glance tamed down to suppliance from command, 
 
 We see the future slave of Egypt's queen. 
 
 He points beneath him to a bloody bier, 
 
 His words Lo ! Shakspere gives them to our ear.
 
 260 SKETCHES FKOM 
 
 Hamlet. 
 
 " I will watch to night : 
 
 Perchance 'twill walk again." 
 
 Will it then walk to night ? and shall he see 
 The shadowy image of the mighty dead r 
 Shall the stern tomh yield up her mystery 
 And o'er night's noon a deeper horror shed ? 
 Hush ! 'Tis the creaking of the turret vane 
 In the damp sea breeze. Hush ! 'tis but the ro:ir 
 Of hollow waves that flow and ebb again 
 Across the pebbly beach of Elsinore. 
 How goes the night ? it is a fitting time 
 To meditate on death, on woe, and crime. 
 
 The stars are out, but shimmering faint and dim 
 Like the dull eyes of spirits In the haze 
 Eising from the cold sea, they seem to swim, 
 Few, solitary, shorn of their clear rays, 
 And lustreless. The chilly midnight air
 
 -IIAKSPERIAJf TEXTS. 261 
 
 Sighs through the long grass on the antient walls. 
 Stirring the black firs and the Linden trees 
 Heavily, as hearse-plumes wave at funerals. 
 Thrice shrieks the owl far off then all is still 
 Save the faint echo from the cold hleak hill. 
 
 How many a wretch at this most silent hour 
 
 Pierces the darkness with his dying scream, 
 
 How many a captive in the dungeon tower 
 
 Sin-inks from the fate that comes with morning's beam, 
 
 How many a lone and broken heart looks forth 
 
 Upon the quiet stars and prays to be 
 
 In Iliat last home, where happiness and worth 
 
 Rest not more calm than vice or misery 
 
 Ha ! Mercy Heaven ! see ! behold it glide ! 
 
 1 1 AM LET, thy father's ghost is at thy side.
 
 262 SKETCHES FEOM 
 
 Hamlet. 
 
 " Whose grave's this, sir ? " 
 
 The grave ! for whom ? 
 What traveller on life's solemn path has won 
 The quiet resting-place ? Whose toil is done ? 
 
 Who cometh to the tomb ? 
 
 Is it the sage, 
 
 Who, through the vista of a life well passed, 
 Looked calmly forward to this lone, this last, 
 
 This silent hermitage ? 
 
 Is it the brave, 
 
 The laurelled soldier of a hundred fields, 
 To whom the land he nobly warred for, yields 
 
 A nation honored grave ?
 
 SHAKSPEBIAN TEXTS. 263 
 
 Doth the matron come, 
 
 Whom many bright-eyed mourners of her race 
 Will weep for, looking on her vacant place 
 
 By the hearth of their sad home ? 
 
 The Grave ! Alas ! 
 It opens not its marhle arms for one 
 Who timely sinks, the day of life being done, 
 
 As withered flowers pass. 
 
 'Tis not the oak, 
 
 Which, grey and mossy, falls beneath the breath 
 Of the December tempest, or the scathe 
 
 Of the red lightning's stroke. 
 
 'Tis not the grain 
 
 Ripe for the sickle, which the reaper's blade 
 Hath in the season's fulness cut, and laid 
 
 Upon the harvest wain. 
 
 No, nor the leaves, 
 
 Hanging like rubies in the atmosphere, 
 Of which sweet nature for the parting year, 
 
 Her farewell chaplet weaves.
 
 264 SKETCHES FEOM 
 
 In their full day, 
 
 Not when the spring-cloud floats above gi'een hills, 
 Or summer makes more musical the rills, 
 
 Those timely pass away. 
 
 Not in the prime 
 
 Of the rejoicing, clear-eyed morn, hut when 
 The shades of twilight cloak the silent glen 
 
 At the last curfew's chime. 
 
 Heaven above 
 
 Foreshows the end of what it doth create 
 By natural signs. Thus warn'd, we bear the fate 
 
 Of whom, and what we love. 
 
 As the year fades, 
 
 Brown is the forest, hoarser rolls the flood, 
 O'er the cold sky low drifts a wilder scud, 
 
 Winds sweep the leafless glades. 
 
 When the day dies, 
 
 Not unannounced comes the dark starry night, 
 To purple twilight melts the golden light 
 
 Of the resplendent skies.
 
 SHAKSPEBIAX TEXTS. 265 
 
 And inan, too, bears 
 
 The warning signs upon his furrowed cheek, 
 In his dimmed eye, and silvered hair, which speak 
 
 The twilight of our years. 
 
 But oh, 'tis grief! 
 
 To part with those who still upon their brow, 
 Bear life's spring garland, with hope's sunny glow 
 
 On every verdant leaf. 
 
 To see the rose 
 
 Opening her fragrant glories to the light, 
 Half bud, half blossom, touched by the cold blight, 
 
 And perish ere it blows. 
 
 To see the stream, 
 
 Whose sweet and silvery course we hoped to trace 
 To the great ocean, parched in its bright race, 
 
 By the fierce dog-star's beam. 
 
 But wherefore weep ! 
 
 Happy are those who, ere they yet have proved 
 The little worth of what their young hearts loved, 
 
 Sleep the unbroken sleep.
 
 266 SKETCHES FEOM 
 
 To them 'tis given 
 
 To sink to rest amidst delicious dreams, 
 That all on earth is lovely as it seems, 
 
 And wake again in Heaven.
 
 SHAKSPERIAy TEXTS. 267 
 
 As You Like It. 
 
 " Are not these woods 
 More free from peril than the envious court." 
 
 A leafy rustling fills the noontide air, 
 
 And the glad humming of the forest hee 
 
 Who o'er sweet wild flowers wakes her minstrelsy, 
 
 While the fresh gushing stream makes music rare 
 
 Soothing the mind, till every thought of care 
 
 Fades like the furrow from a summer sea. 
 
 Who would not live in forests ? Doth the pall 
 
 Of purple, gold, and ermine, shine so bright 
 
 As the blue sky and sparkling waterfall ? 
 
 Do kings and courtiers, with all splendours dight, 
 
 In perfumed banquet halls feel that delight 
 
 Which the pure forest breeze here yields to all ? 
 
 We want but Rosalind ; with such a maid 
 
 'Twere Heaven to dwell in the calm greenwood shade.
 
 268 SKETCHES FROM 
 
 As You Like It. 
 
 Yes 'tis the bold voice of the hunter's horn 
 
 That gladly ringing through those leafy brakes 
 
 Cheers dawn ; and, sparkling from the budding thorn, 
 
 Shakes the clear crystals that the night dew makes ; 
 
 There have I seen the " Melancholy Jacques," 
 
 What time the evening sunshine poured a flood 
 
 Of light through the green leaves, that with their shade 
 
 On the short sward a restless chequer made, 
 
 Holding communion with the solitude ; 
 
 And from stones, streams, and flowers, in his mood, 
 
 Drawing quaint morals, which but teach at last 
 
 That things which are will perish like things past : 
 
 A truth that all may learn, and yet not scorn 
 
 Life and its healthful joys, flie chase and hunting horn.
 
 SHAKSFEEIAN TEXTS. 269 
 
 As You Like It. 
 
 ' Under the greenwood tree, 
 Who loves to lie with me ?" 
 
 I pause upon the page, and as I muse 
 
 Green silent glades, and forest dells arise, 
 
 And leafy clumps of oaks, before my eyes ; 
 
 While a refreshing sense of the soft dews 
 
 Of early spring and gentle summer showers, 
 
 Steals o'er my fancy, till I see the flowers 
 
 Decked in the diamonds of the atmosphere, 
 
 As o'er Ardenne's deep woods the day breaks silvery clear. 
 
 Then far off in the verdant solitude 
 
 Float the faint echoes of a bugle's sound, 
 
 From his lair of fern springs upwards with a bound 
 
 The startled stag, and gazes through the wood 
 
 Stay pleasant vision 'tis in vain 'tis past 
 
 Around me roars again, the burning* Indian blast. 
 
 * Written in Bengal.
 
 A TALE OF THE INDIAN OCEAN.
 
 A TALE OF THE INDIAN OCEAN. 
 
 THE hoarse murmur of the crew echoed the " Amen," 
 with which our captain concluded the funeral service, 
 while a sullen plunge, mingling with the solemn 
 response, announced that the body was committed to the 
 deep. There was a brief reverential pause, and the 
 men, then covering themselves, moved slowly from the 
 gangway. 
 
 " May he find rest there," said an old weather- 
 beaten sailor, with a slight indicative motion of his 
 head towards the sea ; " but he was sadly wicked he 
 could never give a good account of that poor boy Ander- 
 son for as to the lad's being washed out of the fishing 
 boat, the thing couldn't be seeing that it was a night 
 in which a Dutch spice shrp would have carried royal 
 studding sails and all ports up." 
 
 " Aye," replied one of the little knot who had col- 
 lected in the waist, " Jennings saw him strike his poor 
 lame father on Deal Beach, with the cutter's tiller, till 
 the old man's blood ran over his neckcloth."
 
 272 A TALE OF THE 
 
 " Grimstone," added another, " was as able a seamau 
 as ever handled a reef point but it was not for the 
 good of any ship's company to sail with him. A pretty 
 deal of salt water have I run over in my time, and had 
 some queer shipmates, as you may partly suppose, 
 seeing that I have followed the sea, man and boy the 
 best part of forty years ; but the like of that Grimstone I 
 never came athwart of before, I mean for swearing and 
 blasphemy. It seemed as if his oaths would sink the 
 very ship under him, or bring up the black devil to 
 claw him out from the midst of his mess well Lord 
 forgive him ! he has been suddenly called to his account." 
 
 John Grimstone, the subject of this conversation, had 
 indeed been permitted but a brief space for that repent- 
 ance which he seemed to need but too nuich he had 
 fallen from the main-top gallant-mast, wliile assisting 
 to send down the royal yards about midday and the 
 crushed and mangled state of his body rendered it but 
 too evident that he could not have survived the fatal 
 instant he touched the booms upon which he fell. 
 Independent of those solemn and melancholy reflections 
 which the accident of the morning, and the mournful 
 office just concluded, were calculated to excite in a small
 
 INDIAN OCEAlf. 273 
 
 community; we had a more immediate and serious 
 cause for the gloom which seemed to rest like a shadow 
 of coming evil upon the crew and passengers of the 
 Milford. It was the latter end of May we were 
 about three degrees and a half to the eastward of the 
 Cape of Good Hope, in latitude thirty-nine degrees 
 south, and the weather had assumed an appearance 
 which made us wish ourselves anywhere rather than in 
 the precise position we then occupied. Glimmerings of 
 lightning had been more than once observed in the 
 north-west. The sky overhead was grey and dreary, 
 while the horizon was rendered nearly invisible by the 
 thick increasing haze which rested heavily upon the 
 long heaving billows. The sea itself was as gloomy as 
 the heavens which canopied it, for the swell setting 
 from the westward, rose and fell dark and silent as a 
 starless midnight, without a single streak of foam to 
 chequer or relieve the glassy expanse of waters, which 
 heaved up in dusky hills, or sunk in shadowy vallies 
 around our lonely vessel. 
 
 " What do you think of the weather, Benson ?" said I 
 to the first officer, as he descended from the poop, where 
 he had been conversing with our excellent Captain.
 
 274 A TALE OF THE 
 
 " Oh !" replied the young sailor with a laugh, which 
 was, however, more brief and less cheerful than usual, 
 " we must get our tubs on deck to catch fresh water;" 
 and so saying entered the awning cabin, which the 
 captain kept for his own accommodation, and where his 
 chronometers and other instruments of navigation were 
 deposited. 
 
 I was aware of the object with which Benson visited 
 the captain's cabin, and when, after a delay of a few 
 seconds, he again came on the quarter deck ; I inquired 
 with a degree of interest which I endeavoured to dis- 
 guise by an appearance of extreme nonchalance, how 
 the barometer looked ? 
 
 " Queer enough," replied the seaman, with a shrug 
 and an elevation of the eye-brows, as he past hastily by 
 me and ascended the poop ladder to his commander. 
 
 This was far from consolatory, but there was little 
 use in giving way to the unpleasant feelings which that 
 brief communication was calculated to inspire ; so mus- 
 tering all the philosophy I could command, I betook 
 myself, and a cane chair, to the cuddy port, and by the 
 light of the declining day, commenced a vigorous perusal 
 of the third volume of "Waverlv, several sentences of
 
 INDIAN- OCEAN. 275 
 
 which ought assuredly to be impressed upon my memory, 
 as I believe I read each page at least a dozen times. At 
 this period an almost perfect stillness rested on the 
 Milford. Two of the passengers leaned listlessly over 
 the gangway rail, watching in silence the heaving mass 
 of water as it rose and fell in long heavy undulations. 
 A third lying with his head resting on his arms upon 
 the cuddy table, appeared very enviably asleep, while 
 the sound of a flute, coming faintly up the companion 
 ladder, gave evidence by a doleful attempt at " Home, 
 sweet Home, that a musical cadet was not to be attracted 
 or intimidated from his usual afternoon's practice by the 
 scene around us, or the dangers that it prognosticated. 
 With this harmonious exception, the silence on board 
 of the vessel was only broken by the heavy flap of the 
 reduced sails, as the ship rolled slowly and deeply from 
 side to side, by the continuous wearysome creaking of 
 the masts and driver boom, or by an occasional question 
 from the quarter deck, as " Does she steer? " " How is 
 her head?" and such brief replies from the helmsman 
 as were necessary. But we were not doomed to remain 
 very long in suspense. The gale seemed but to await 
 the departure of the sun, whose setting was only indi-
 
 276 A TALE OF THE 
 
 cated by a lurid gleam towards the west, before it took 
 tyrannous and undivided possession of sea and sky. 
 For, as the gloom of twilight thickened, heavy moaning 
 gusts began to sweep across the surface of the ocean ; 
 lulls of a few minutes would then occur, with a stifling 
 absence of wind, which was perceptible in spite of the 
 coldness of the weather; and at length, as the last 
 streak of daylight faded in the gloomy obscurity of the 
 horizon, that sublime but appalling description of a 
 storm, a Cape North- wester, rushed forth from its cavern 
 in the clouds with wings of thunder like a giant on his 
 prey. Our good ship was well prepared for the en- 
 counter, but ere she answered her helm, and fell oft' 
 before the fury of the first tremendous gust, she gave a 
 lurch or two from which I scarcely expected her to 
 recover, and reeled and staggered in the shock of the 
 tempest like a tower battered by a mighty artillery. At 
 length she was got before the wind, and in less than two 
 hours the wild sea, through which she rushed with the 
 velocity of a new shot arrow, had risen into those moun- 
 tains of water which none can conceive who have not 
 witnessed a storm off the Cape of Good Hope. Our ship, 
 as I have said, was a stout and gallant bark, well
 
 INDIAN OCEAN. 277 
 
 officered and sound, and luckily for us she was so ; for as 
 she hove her groaning timbers above the mighty seas, 
 which broke on board like cataracts, it appeared to me 
 that no vessel less strong or less buoyant could have 
 shaken off the weight of that deluge under which even 
 the lively and well-built Milford trembled like a reed 
 in a running stream. Our Captain, an old and approved 
 seaman, looked grave and anxious. I could see him 
 from the cuddy, where the serious faces of a silent group 
 of passengers looked pale and sad in the dim flickering 
 light of the swinging lamp : his hat had been blown off, 
 but he seemed careless or unconscious of the circum- 
 stance ; and his grey hair was streaming to the blast, 
 that drove before it a cutting torrent of cold rain, of 
 which he appeared equally regardless. At times he left 
 his station near the wheel and went forward into the 
 obscurity of the quarter deck, and now and then his 
 deep voice was heard from amidst the gloom rising above 
 the roar of the blast in accents of cheerful encourage- 
 ment, which sounded strangely to our ears, or of caution, 
 which struck a responsive chord in our hearts. But 
 anon, the bowlings of the tempest would drown every 
 voice but its own, and even the clank of the chain
 
 278 A TALE OF THE 
 
 pumps sounded dull and distant, or as if they had been 
 muffled. Thus we remained counting each stormy 
 minute as it passed, silent and anxious, but putting 
 the best countenance we could on the matter, and 
 occasionally attempting to turn the current of our ideas 
 by talking on indifferent subjects ; at one moment we 
 endeavoured to persuade ourselves that the blasts were 
 less violent, and the next, some one of our company 
 would assert roundly that they were assuredly less 
 frequent. Thus then passed the dreary hours until near 
 midnight ; not only in considerable mental anxiety, but 
 attended by all those bodily discomforts which a heavy 
 gale of wind inflicts on the unfortunate landsman. The 
 cuddy knee deep in water, dashing from side to side 
 with a sound far from cheering, the eternal " fetching 
 way" of articles meant to remain stationary, and, to all 
 appearance, lashed and elected until they seem as 
 permanently fixed as the deck itself. Falls, grazes, 
 contusions, and above all that most fatiguing, and at 
 the same time ludicrous operation of embracing an 
 upright post, or clinging to the table as a refractory cat 
 does to a hearth rug ; to all that class of petty distresses 
 which, by the way, we should think serious enough at
 
 INDIAN OCEAN. 279 
 
 imy other time, one may add helplessly gazing at a few 
 recherche and choicely bound books, floating to and fro 
 in the brine like the wrecks of the Trojan fleet; and a 
 favourite Amati violoncello, or choice violin, trying 
 conclusions with the nearest chest of drawers or bulk- 
 head, as it sports on the summit of that minature sea 
 which inundates your cabin ; thus, however, passed our 
 hours until eight bells, sounding as faint through the 
 roar of the blast as though they were tolled a mile from 
 the ship, announced midnight. At that period Captain 
 
 N came in for some refreshment. He observed 
 
 gravely that there was a very heavy squall coming up, 
 and had just lifted the tumbler to his lips, when a cry 
 from the deck of " a strange sail right a head," caused 
 him to hurry out of the cuddy ; and it may readily be 
 imagined that, in spite of the inclemency of the night, 
 the gentlemen of the party there assembled, lost very 
 little time in following his example. In fact, we obeyed 
 the instructions given by Lady Macbeth, to her guests 
 at Scone, to the very letter. We " stayed not upon the 
 order of our going, but went at once." I have a faint 
 impression that during my transit over the dinner table 
 I knocked down an ancient Civil servant, returning to
 
 280 A TALE OF THE 
 
 Bengal, and also the bottles and glasses which were 
 quietly balancing on a swing tray, and I more per- 
 fectly remember that I found myself jammed between a 
 tall Irish cadet and a stout assistant surgeon of the 
 Royals, in the narrow door- way leading from the cuddy 
 to the quarter deck. Moreover, that by a general con- 
 vulsive exertion we all burst through that Thermopylae 
 at once, and with an ejaculatory hah ! of that sort which 
 seems to give such infinite relief to a London pavior, or 
 an elderly gentleman receiving a punch in the vicinity 
 of his gastric region. The Irishman afterwards com- 
 pared our sortie to the vivacious escape of a certain 
 liquid which he was pleased to denominate pop ; but at 
 the moment of our bursting forth, all feelings, all ideas, 
 were absorbed in astonishment, and I do not hesitate to 
 add fear, at the sight which presented itself. "We had 
 men on board who had distinguished themselves in the 
 most fiery bursts of the Peninsular war, particularly 
 
 Colonel "W , of the , now at Bangalore. Others 
 
 who have since earned no mean renown in the battle 
 fields of India but if one of those were hardy enough 
 to assert that its pulse kept its even beat, and his cheek 
 its natural hue, as he looked upon th" sight before us,
 
 IXDIAN OCEAN. 281 
 
 I should say that it was more than untrue, it was 
 physically and morally impossible. The night was awful. 
 It could not be called dark, for the blaze of lightning in 
 which the masts seem to tremble, and the whole ship to 
 quiver, scarcely ceased for a single instant ; but when it 
 did cease, darkness is too feeble a term for the utter 
 palpable blackness which ensued, and which seemed as 
 if it had blotted out the fairness and beauty of creation 
 for ever. I know not whether it thundered, for the 
 loudest claps that ever rattled through the cloudy 
 masses of an Indian north-wester, would have been 
 inaudible amidst the howlings of the terrific gale to 
 which we were exposed. The ocean, as its giant waves 
 rose high above the vessel, and then rushed down again 
 like falling avalanches, glittered and weltered far and 
 wide, in the gleam of the white lightning, as if it were 
 a sea of molten lead ; while the spray, as it flew across 
 the ship, or was hurled up in vast clouds by the near 
 breaking of some billow more monstrous than the rest, 
 shimmered and wavered in the same unearthly light, 
 like the sulphury vapour of a volcano. The ship 
 laboured frightfully. At one moment her quarter was 
 buried by the volume of water which some bursting sea
 
 282 A TALE OF THE 
 
 hurled over our bulwarks ; the next, her tall masts were 
 seen describing a gigantic arc as they appeared to fly 
 across the flashing heavens, and her opposite side 
 received the assault of a fresh and equally terrible 
 invader. Now her bowsprit would rise high in air, 
 and again both bowsprit and forecastle would plunge 
 into an abyss of foam, from which it appeared almost 
 impossible that they should ever emerge. 
 
 I recollect these things now ; but at the time every 
 faculty was absorbed in the contemplation of a more 
 terrible and more extraordinary spectacle than either 
 the raging storm or the wild ocean. Right a-head, 
 broadside on, and apparently not fifty yards from our 
 bow, lay a vessel equal in length to a China ship, such 
 as the East India Company then sailed, of the largest 
 class; she had a lofty carved and elaborately orna- 
 mented stern, so broad at the base and so narrow at 
 the summit as nearly to resemble a pyramid. From 
 this projected three heavy balustrades or stern galleries, 
 supported by fantastic images ; while an equal number 
 of tall and bulky poop lanthorns crowned the edifice 
 from the extreme summit, or what we should call the 
 poop, there were two stages or stories, if I may so term
 
 INDIAN OCEAN. 283 
 
 them, to be descended before reaching the quarter deck, 
 which was of course considerably shortened by the 
 encroachments of the decks above, and was probably 
 not less than from fifteen to eighteen feet lower than 
 the highest part of the poop. The waist of this singular 
 vessel did not appear to be higher out of the water than 
 that of our own five hundred ton ship ; but her cumbrous 
 forecastle was exalted almost to an equality with the 
 second story or deck of the stern, and descended with 
 proportionate abruptness to form the head and cutwater. 
 The latter, elevated but a few feet above the sea, sup- 
 ported on its whole length a rampant and shield-bearing 
 white lion, whose head rose considerably higher than 
 the cutwater itself, while his hind feet seemed resting 
 on the surface of the ocean: finally, the hull of the 
 stranger fell in above and bulged out towards the water- 
 line to a degree which would have made the similar build 
 in some of our oldest battle ships look quite moderate ; 
 while rows of long slender cannon bristling forth from 
 oval ports, wherever from the forecastle to the highest 
 poop there was a foot of deck to sustain them, denoted 
 her claim to be considered as a vessel of force. 
 
 The masts, of which she had three, were scarcely so
 
 284 A TALE OF THE 
 
 lofty as our own, and each was encumbered with two 
 heavy circular projections, one where the main- tops are 
 situated in modern ships, and another of smaller dimen- 
 sions, at what we should call the cross-trees ; both were 
 surrounded by curiously carved fanciful railings; nor 
 was a similar description of accommodation wanting to 
 the bowsprit, which, after projecting as in modern ships 
 some distance from the bow, suddenly rose vertically at 
 an obtuse angle with its first direction and supported, 
 about half way up, not only the round top adverted to, 
 but the yards, sails, and rigging of a diminutive mast. 
 The sails of the stranger, for she appeared to have hove 
 too under a press of canvas, were much deeper and 
 narrower than any I had ever seen; and a kind of 
 gigantic latine sail, set on a yard of immense length, 
 reaching fore and aft across the mizen mast, and descend- 
 ing to the quarter deck, performed the office of a driver. 
 The confusion and apprehension which this strange 
 spectacle naturally created on board of the Milford, is 
 not to be described. "When I had contrived by desperate 
 clinging, and at the expense of some bruises, to scramble 
 up the poop, my ears were saluted, not only by the 
 bowlings of the tempest, the rattling of blocks and
 
 INDIAN OCEAN. 285 
 
 cordage, and the roar of the sea, but by a confusion of 
 tongues, which, for a moment, rose above the noise of 
 the elements. 
 
 " "We're on board of her, by Heaven!" cried one. 
 " Hard up, hard up," shouted another. " Starboard 
 for God's sake ! " roared a third, in a voice of bitter 
 agony, while some cried for mercy under the terror 
 of instant dissolution, and others, though standing rigid 
 as statues, with clasped hands and straining eye-balls, 
 howled as wildly as the fierce blast that mingled with 
 their screams, from the sheer influence of mortal appre- 
 hension. 
 
 " Xo fear, no fear," said the deep and awe- struck 
 voice of an old seaman close to me. " No fear, you'll 
 not run over her" 
 
 " No, no," replied another, slowly and solemnly. 
 11 Living ship will never get foul of far rigging, till 
 that day when the sea" 
 
 " Silence!" cried the Captain, whose opinion I could 
 not but suspect coincided with that of the two last 
 speakers if it was not so plainly expressed. " Silence ! 
 and mind your steering quarter deck there Mr. 
 Benson, stand by the men at the weather wheel
 
 2Kb A TALE OF THE 
 
 steady and no noise," this last command was implicitly 
 obeyed, for the terror and wonder excited by our not 
 nearing the stranger, although she was hove too almost 
 under our bowsprit, and we were literally flying through 
 the water, tongue-tied those whom even Captain X 's 
 authority might not have been sufficient to restrain 
 under such trying circumstances. It was now also that 
 the furious squall which had brought up, or accompa- 
 nied our awful visitor beginning to clear off, we could 
 discern a vast company upon her decks. They were 
 clad in pale habiliments of that antique form which 
 contemporary portraits and other paintings assign to 
 the hardy navigators of the United Provinces, who, with 
 Hudson, and Sheering, and Jansens, carried the flag of 
 Holland amongst the freezing tides of the Pole, or upheld 
 its honour in the narrow seas, under the renowned DC 
 Ruyter and Van Tromp. A few of those dreary looking 
 figures were leaning over the low bulwark of their 
 vessel which was nearest to our bow, and appeared to be 
 silently gazing at some object invisible to us ; but by 
 far the greater portion of the dismal crew were engaged 
 in walking silently and solemnly to and fro on the 
 several decks, or were setting in sad and disconsolate
 
 INDIAN OCEAX. 287 
 
 attitudes on the guns. This we could clearly discover 
 for when the hroad glare of the lightning ceased, the 
 three tall poop lanthorns of the fearful stranger cast 
 such a cold light over her crowded but stilly decks, as 
 a winter's moon sheds upon a frost fog. By this ghastly 
 illumination, and with the aid of an excellent Dolland, 
 which by the way I scarcely dared raise to my eye, I 
 saw that the faces of the dreary crew were as bloodless 
 and their eyes as lustreless as those of the dead. One 
 turned his marble visage towards the Milford, raising 
 it slightly at the same time, and so withering yet so 
 devoid of life so fiendish, yet so fixed was the expres- 
 sion, that I was glad to remove with all haste the 
 telescope, in the very tube of which the horrible glance 
 seemed to encounter mine. 
 
 Suddenly a cry arose on board of the Milford, that 
 there was a boat on the starboard quarter, and our 
 attention was of course instantly attracted to that side. 
 There indeed was a boat, living and dashing through a 
 sea which would have sunk or broken up the stoutest 
 and best craft ever launched from Deal Beach in twenty 
 seconds ; she was a bluff-bowed, heavy-built cutter, grey 
 and rugged as the useless remains of those fishing
 
 288 A TALE OF THE 
 
 smacks we sometimes see left to rot under the cliffs of 
 Broadstairs or Eastbourne, and pulled by six hands clad 
 in the spectral livery of that awful ship's company. 
 They had the same fixed and stony looks, the same 
 narrow-brimmed high-crowned hats, the same amplitude 
 of button covered trunk hose and jacket, the same 
 fashion of peaked beard and upturned moustache, and 
 the same charnel-house expression of visage and death- 
 like gravity of demeanour. In the stern sheets, was a 
 grisly coxswain, whose sad and awful countenance 
 seemed that of a worn and ancient man before him 
 sate one differing in appearance from the rest, and 
 whose face and figure were alike hidden from our 
 observation by a coarse shroud-like covering, re-sem- 
 bling a seaman's hammock. All this we saw dis- 
 tinctly by a sort of bluish hazy light which surrounded 
 the rugged boat, as if it were a luminous atmosphere, 
 formed by the phosphrescent particles which she dashed 
 up with the spray that boiled round her broad bow 
 and heavy gunwale. Silently and swiftly did the 
 ghastly shallop shoot past our vessel, and pull along- 
 side of that to which she evidently belonged. Two 
 or three of the figures, who were gliding about
 
 INDIAN OCEAN. 289 
 
 the stranger's deck, moved heavily towards the gang- 
 way port, and two manned the side, as if to receive 
 the passenger in the boat; but the rest maintained 
 their solemn deliberate walk to and fro, without turn- 
 ing their heads or casting a glance at what was in 
 progress. Slowly, and with extreme reluctance, as it 
 appeared to us, did the muffled form rise from his seat 
 in the boat and begin to ascend the side of the ghostly 
 bark ; as he stepped across the gangway, the covering 
 which had enveloped him dropped from his figure, and 
 at the same instant the old seaman by my side shouted 
 with a voice of horror, and an oath too terrible to be 
 
 repeated : " by that is John Grimstone." 
 
 At this moment, the storm raged with redoubled fury. 
 The lightning became absolutely blinding, and now for 
 the first time the sound of the thunder predominated 
 over the bowlings of the gale, and rattled in one 
 unbroken peel like a continued discharge of heavy 
 artillery close to our ears. A tremendous sea struck 
 the Milford, and, with a stunning crash, away went 
 the bowsprit and all the starboard bulwarks, fore and 
 aft ; while the fore and main-top masts, after tottering 
 for a second, were hurled over the side into the flashing
 
 WO A TALE OP THE 
 
 ocean. At the same instant, as if to meet and wrestle 
 with the tempest, the spectre ship hove her bluff and 
 mighty bows right up into the wind, encountering the 
 mountain billows and scattering them into a sheet of 
 foam, as dense and vast as the smoke of a great besieg- 
 ing battery. Her yards were silently squared a cloud 
 of canvas, such as would stagger a frigate in the north- 
 east trade, was displayed below and aloft and she shot 
 away right against and, as I may say, in the very teeth 
 of the furious blast with the velocity of a swallow 
 skimming over a summer lake we could only observe, 
 as she dashed close by us at this frightful rate, that the 
 lightning glimmered through every worn sail, as if it 
 were gauze ; and that the ghastly crew continued their 
 solemn heavy walk to and fro on the decks, without 
 casting a single glance at our vessel as they passed. In 
 a few minutes the lanthorns ceased to be visible, and 
 every man on the Milford's poop drew a long sighing 
 breath, as if a mountain had been removed from his 
 breast : the gale also had moderated with extraordinary 
 rapidity. The clouds were broken in many places, and 
 the calm beautiful stars looked glittering forth by twos 
 and threes at the openings in the curtains in the tempest.
 
 INDIAN OCEAN. 291 
 
 " Mr. Benson," cried the Captain, " pipe all hands to 
 clear the wreck," and as the sprightly whistle of the 
 boatswain and his mates sounded cheerily through the 
 
 decreasing gale, he turned to Colonel "W and said, 
 
 " we may all be thankful that it is no worse ; few ships 
 have come off so easily after meeting 
 
 THE FLYING DUTCHMAN-"
 
 THE DECLINE AND FALL OF GHOSTS.
 
 THE DECLDfE AND FALL OF GHOSTS, 
 
 WITH THE HISTORY OF CERTAIN APPARITIONS WHICH 
 AFFLICTED THE AUTHOR. 
 
 Addressed to Doctor John Grant, of the Bengal 
 Medical Service. 
 
 " Ombra adorata aspetta." Sotneo e Gulietta. 
 
 " Fly not yet." Thomas Moore. 
 
 " Alas ! poor Ghost." Hamlet. 
 
 " Going going gone." Any Auctioneer. 
 
 I. 
 
 Why should we sing of men and their misdeeds, 
 When mighty nature in her silent strength 
 
 Gives us more noble themes ? First the heart bleeds 
 For human pain and misery : but at length 
 Grows callous as fresh woe to woe succeeds : 
 I mean in our dark poems and" romances, 
 (Heaven forbid' t should be so in real life,) 
 Where all the griefs the unhappy author fancies 
 Move one no more than parting with one's wife.
 
 294 THE DECLINE 
 
 The time is past, too, when the mysteries 
 
 Of wild TJdolpho made the cold flesh creep ; 
 
 Or sentimental bachelors, with knees 
 
 Of breeches half unbuttoned, lost their sleep 
 
 To snivel over Werter's snivellings these 
 
 "Were glorious days indeed ; the author then, 
 
 Ambitious of lugubrious renown, 
 
 Had but in blood or tears to dip his pen 
 
 To terrify, to move, to win the town. 
 
 And are ye gone, for ever, blessed hours ? 
 
 Alas for ever ! is the sad reply, 
 
 Grub-street re-echoes it from all her bowers, 
 
 Romance-renowned Minerva heaves a sigh, 
 
 (I mean the press, not goddess,) Oh ye powers ! 
 
 Who erst inspired sweet Matilda Dacres, 
 
 And raised as many ghosts for Matthew Lewis 
 
 As would have frightened forty undertakers, 
 
 And have ye gone from earth ? Alas ! how true is
 
 A>'D FALL OF GHOSTS. 295 
 
 IV. 
 
 The observation of some learned Theban 
 
 That science is imagination's bane ; 
 
 A truth which as true romance readers we ban, 
 
 But yet, ah us ! the fact is very plain ; 
 
 You might as well attempt to move mount Leban 
 
 On as to persuade Sir Humphry Davy, 
 
 Or Mr. Brand, or Faraday, or Hatchet, 
 
 That men e'er made the alkahest to save ye, 
 
 Or fix'd a shadow so that you might catch it. 
 
 They'd tell you that the grave lights, which of old 
 
 Frighten' d good people into fits of ague, 
 
 Are merely gas and if upon the world 
 
 You see a ghastly gleam, it need not plague ye. 
 
 'Tis carburetted hydrogen you're told ; 
 
 And don't be frighten' d if, when left alone, 
 
 Blue burns your lamp and dim is the inustion ; 
 
 Expect to see no ghost, to hear no groan, 
 
 'Tis but the imperfection of combustion.
 
 296 THE DECLUTE 
 
 Star-crowned Science, thou indeed hast made 
 
 Thy throne upon those prejudices old, 
 
 Which on the human mind like nightmares weigh'd, 
 
 Appalled the timid and disturbed the bold. 
 
 Foul superstition sought their deadly aid, 
 
 (Deadly, indeed, to ends like hers applied,) 
 
 Wrought with credulity her purpose dark 
 
 As at the stake where Urban Grandier died, 
 
 As where her vanquish' d foes murder' d the Maid of Arc. 
 
 Foe of philosophy and of his kind, 
 
 How oft the grim Dominican has strained 
 
 The accursed rack, till crushed in heart and mind 
 
 The victim deem'd himself the thing he feign'd ; 
 
 Confessed dark leagues with fiends who ride the wind, 
 
 Or that he bartered his eternal weal 
 
 For power on earth. The ravings were received 
 
 As awful proofs, and bloody was the seal, 
 
 Which stamp'd them true men shudder'd and believ'd.
 
 AND FALL OF GHOSTS. 297 
 
 Then did the Andalusian peasant see, 
 
 While star-light struggled with the silvery morn, 
 
 Forth from the ruin'd mosque gleam ghastily 
 
 Unearthly lights. The Saxon heard the horn 
 
 Which the Black Jager wound as furiously. 
 
 The hellish chase swept through the midnight wood ; 
 
 The fiery Gael, upon the lonely heath, 
 
 Dreaded to meet the Fairy multitude ; 
 
 The wild Milesian heard the Benshee's cry of death. 
 
 Effulgent Science ! it was thine to chase 
 
 Those dark beliefs which hagg'd a trembling world ; 
 
 Before thy searching glance the dismal race 
 
 Of shadows, from their dim dominion hurled, 
 
 Lost foot by foot each ancient resting place. 
 
 Dreaming Astrology resigned to thee 
 
 The starry empire she so long abused ; 
 
 Thy beams dispersed the mists of Alchemy, 
 
 And mercy reigned where science was diffused.
 
 298 THE DECLINE 
 
 But faith ! she should do good, for all the harm 
 She has done the dismal and the timid-hearted, 
 Who love a little delicate alarm 
 From which I fear we daily more are parted. 
 The ghosts our grandsires loved no longer charm. 
 There's no such " stopper," no, Baalphoegor take her, 
 Not law to justice, truth to special pleaders, 
 Measure and weight to tailor and to baker, 
 As this same science is to romance readers. 
 
 For who on earth, after a course of lectures 
 
 Attended at the Koyal Institution, 
 
 Could tremble at a tale of moving pictures 
 
 Of goblins and of mysteries Rosicrucian ; 
 
 Why, miss of twelve years old would pass her strictures. 
 
 " Really, such trash is fit but for the nursery : " 
 
 In short we're spoilt for the mystic and the terrible. 
 
 Even our glorious Scott, the remark is cursory, 
 
 Could scarcely render his " White Lady," bearable.
 
 AND FALL OF GHOSTS. 1 
 
 XII. 
 
 'Tis this alone has stopped what I intended, 
 The publication in nine volumes quarto, 
 Of a kind of " Vathek," rather more extended, 
 Filled with the eastern lore which I in part owe 
 To three weeks' residence at Budge, Budge, blended 
 With horror, witchcraft, mystery, love and murder ; 
 And such descriptions ! how on the bright river 
 Eich " bungalows " came sailing : who ere heard or 
 Told such things as I'd have told you ever 
 
 XIH. 
 
 Excepting Lady Morgan * I'd prepared ye 
 An Orient tale with India for my stage ; 
 Ghouls and Afreets had passed across and scared ye, 
 In any but this thrice incredulous age. 
 Mighty enchantments, too, I had not spared ye ; 
 Peris had floated by on golden clouds, 
 Or glittered down to earth upon the ray 
 Of the red dog- star, robed in sparkling shrouds, 
 "Woven from the moonlight dews of Himalay. 
 
 * See " The Missionary."
 
 300 THE DECLINE 
 
 From where by vast Ustachul in the west 
 Superb Jabilsa lifts her ruby towers ; 
 To golden -walled Jabilka, on whose crest 
 The morning sun-beams burst, it had been ours 
 To wander. We had sought the spicy nest 
 Where the bright Kaknoos sings upon his pyre, 
 And Hoosh with all its ghastly multitude, 
 And Tabat's hill of melodies and fire, 
 And found the Simoorgh old in her dread solitude. 
 
 And then should I have shewn you how of old 
 The Mogul kept his state in gorgeous halls, 
 Vast, shadowy, crusted thick with gems and gold ; 
 Or sooth'd by the fresh gush of waterfalls, 
 And rills which over pearl and jasper roll'd, 
 Reposed beneath thick bowers of jasmine, 
 Mingled with Persian roses, while around him 
 Stood beauties, bright and still as stars that shine 
 In summer skies, to fan his sleep confound him.
 
 AND FALL OP GHOSTS. 301 
 
 Men swore that when he oped his eyes, the sun 
 Wink'd at the lustre of those royal peepers ; 
 That not until he closed them could the dun 
 Night, fall for benefit of other sleepers ; 
 And that to meet his smile the comets run, 
 Making a bolt whene'er they saw him frown ; 
 That the sphere's harmonies were out of tune 
 If they beheld His Majesty cast down, 
 Whose mouth was "like a meem," * whose face was 
 like the moon. 
 
 xvn. 
 
 We had review' d his armies, muster' d all 
 The dusky bands which march'd beneath his banner, 
 From flowery Cashmeer to green Bengal; 
 From Delhi to where ocean breezes fan her, 
 Or used to fan ; and then at even fall 
 
 * The Arabic "meem," I presume; a thing like a musical 
 semibrevc, to which the Persian poets, with their usual felicity of 
 comparison, liken a handsome mouth !
 
 302 THE DECLINE 
 
 We'd seen the " Sky Lamp's " flickering blaze reveal 
 The anxious crowds which met beneath its beam ; 
 Heard the imperial nobut's thundering peal, 
 And mark'd the mighty camp spread like a troubled 
 
 " But what's an eastern tale without a ghoul, 
 
 A little witchcraft, an afreet, and ghost : 
 
 A spirit in some cavern heard to growl, 
 
 A diamond palace, a magnetic coast ? 
 
 All which would doubtless make the critics howl 
 
 In matter-of-fact and scientific days 
 
 Like these : " I thought, and in despair I threw 
 
 My beautiful MS. into the blaze, 
 
 So Science has to answer for that too. 
 
 Thus wrote I, my dear John Grant, and thou didst 
 usher my small lay into the world in the spring-time 
 of a friendship which will, I trust, flourish greenly 
 through all the seasons of life ; defying the withering 
 power of the tropical sun, and if storms should arise, 
 becoming like the Pine of Clan Alpine, rooted the 
 firmer, " the harder it blows."
 
 AND FALL OF GHOSTS. 303 
 
 As fellow-travellers in the realms of imagination, you 
 and I may almost regret that process which my rhymes 
 attempted to describe. Yet even since the day when 
 those were conceived, our little domain of Faerie, sur- 
 rounded on all sides by the ocean of science, has become 
 more and more circumscribed, till like a tale written on 
 the sands, each wave of the advancing tide threatens to 
 obliterate it for ever. 
 
 I know not whether we have reason to thank philo- 
 sophy or not for the revolution she has effected; of 
 course there can exist but one opinion as to the inestima- 
 ble benefit she has conferred on the human race, in 
 rescuing mankind from the cruelties of superstition; 
 but could she not have been contented to stop there ? 
 Alas ! no ; like an ambitious victor, she was satisfied 
 with no conquest less than absolute ; and having stormed 
 the citadel, she now hurries to plant her triumphant 
 standard alike on the lonely moor, the blue misty 
 mountain, in the autumn grove, on the ruins of the 
 old abbey, and by our winter firesides. In short, 
 philosophy makes endless war upon one of the most 
 precious prerogatives of our imagination, because she 
 sees in it a trace of that power whose strength for evil
 
 304 THE DECLDfE 
 
 she has broken : and without the slightest compassion 
 for the innocent nature of our tacit resistance to her 
 laws, she insists that we shall relinquish this last 
 remnant of the " wisdom of our ancestors," and cease to 
 believe in ghosts. 
 
 Truly it is hard to call upon us for the sacrifice of a 
 sensation, when the enlightenment and politeness of 
 the age have left us so few ; and that the sensation of 
 ghostly apprehension, which has stood so deservedly 
 high in the list of intellectual pleasing pains, as the 
 assembly of ten thousand circles round the fires of fifty 
 years ago, while the winter storm raged without, for 
 the mere purpose of indulging in the dubious horrors of 
 spectral narrations, sufficiently established. Besides, 
 to all persons of imagination, a belief in disembodied 
 spirits was an exquisite stimulus, stronger, cheaper, 
 and more elegant than sal volatile itself. Fancy the 
 delight of your ruined Abbey, where you are forced, 
 man and horse, to take shelter from the tempest. 
 Fancy your thunder-storm, the waving boughs of the 
 traditionary yew, the dull toll of a bell, so faint that 
 the beating of your own heart almost prevents it from 
 being audible. Is it the distant village clock sounding
 
 AND FALL OF GHOSTS. 305 
 
 the hour of midnight through the storm ? No ! slow 
 and solemn it floats over the ancient graves like a 
 warning of woe to come ; it is the passing knell borne 
 by the rain-driving gusts up the long dark aisle of that 
 solitary ruin. At such moments what are the creature 
 discomforts of the outward man? The wet great coat ; 
 the nose so cold that your fingers are uncertain as to its 
 identity ; the drenched hat, which performs the office of 
 an aqueduct for the conveyance of the chilly element 
 down your shrinking back ; nay, even the contrast 
 between your actual state and that which you had pro- 
 posed to yourself in the snug, warm, and well-lighted 
 parlour, with a brace of pheasants and a bottle of old 
 port before you all, all are forgotten in the absorbing 
 interest of your situation. What deed of blood is to be 
 disclosed ? What injured nun, with one finger on her 
 pale lips and a lamp in her livid hand but why should 
 I pursue so delightful a dream ? Alas ! if a man of our 
 degenerate days were placed in the awful situation I 
 have endeavoured to conjure up to my mind's eye, his 
 brutal apprehensions would point to no other possibility 
 than that of his getting a cold and losing his supper ; 
 while he would infallibly attribute any visitations of
 
 sight or sound, however unaccountable, either to the 
 last cheerer he had taken before starting, or to some 
 derangements in the epigastric region. After all, 
 however, one could excuse men of science for their sins 
 against the imagination ; it is " their vocation, Hal : " 
 but we are reduced to despair when we see the very 
 high priests who minister at her altar, lift the veil 
 which has so long concealed the mysteries of her 
 worship. "We feel a mixture of grief and rage, such as 
 would indisputably fire the breasts of the rising genera- 
 tion, if the gentleman who enacts Harlequin at Drury 
 Lane were suddenly to step forward, and with a low 
 bow explain the process by which the dear children had 
 been deluded into an implicit belief that Mr. Grimaldi 
 actually swallowed a hot poker forty feet long, and 
 subsequently created a vegetable man out of certain 
 carrots, turnips, and cabbages. 
 
 Sir Walter Scott, that I should write it! Sir 
 Walter Scott hath done this cruel deed. He hath 
 lifted up the veil, he has exposed the pullies and the 
 ropes; and, in revenge I presume for the treatment 
 which his White Lady received, has waved his potent 
 wand dispersing her and all her shadowy kindred " into
 
 AXD FALL OF GHOSTS. 307 
 
 thin air " for ever. The worst of the whole matter is, 
 that there is no discrediting his facts, meeting his 
 arguments, or upsetting his theories ; so that his History 
 of Demonology and Witchcraft will be as destructive 
 to the faith of the scattered remnant of ghost seers as 
 Sir Isaac Newton's lucubrations were to that of the 
 believers in judicial astrology. Again, I repeat, we 
 might have forgiven all this to Brewster, or Leslie, or 
 Playfair, but Sir Walter Scott ! " This was the un- 
 kindest cut of all : " and with respect to his book, we 
 may use with slight alterations, a line in Chevy Chase 
 and say, " The ghost shall rue who is unborn, the print- 
 ing of that day." 
 
 After all this you will imagine, my dear friend, that 
 I have been myself a firm believer in the world of 
 spirits up to this period. No such thing. I was at 
 one time of my life fairly haunted into incredulity, and 
 so much troubled with apparitions, that out of pure 
 indignation at the annoyance they occasioned me, I 
 relinquished my ghostly faith in toto. More benevolent, 
 however, than others, I felt no wish to diffuse my 
 scepticism, or to deprive my friends of those enviable 
 horrors which had ceased to communicate their plea- 
 
 x 2
 
 308 T 
 
 surable agitation to my own mind. Was it because my 
 hair had ceased to stir at the appearance of a mysterious 
 shadow ; my heart to beat at an unaccountable groan, 
 that I should wish to circumscribe those few inesti- 
 mable emotions of the same nature which the progress 
 of enlightenment and science had left in the possession 
 of my friends ? JS"o, I could as soon have consented to 
 explain to guests in the full enjoyment of a feast those 
 mysteries of the kitchen upon which no wise man per- 
 mits himself to reflect ; or to the good-natured possessor 
 of some inestimable antique, that I had seen it in 
 process of manufacture under the ingenious hands of 
 Signor Guiseppe Torello of the Strada di Toledo at 
 Xaples. Further forbearance, however, would be with- 
 out an object, and since we are to have an end of 
 Ghosts, "Witches, Demons, and all that used to render 
 so dear to our fancy, " the witching hour of night," it 
 is as well to be, like Othello, merciful in our cruelty, 
 and put them out of their misery at once. 
 
 Taking this view of the case, I trust that you will 
 not consider me a recreant from the good old cause, if I 
 narrate some circumstances which occurred to myself ; 
 so strongly corroborative of our Arch Heresiarch Sir
 
 AND FALL OF GHOSTS. 309 
 
 Walter Scott's relations, and so confirmatory of his 
 theories, that I have kept them carefully concealed, 
 for reasons already assigned, until now that to divulge 
 them can no longer be construed into an assault upon 
 that venerable edifice of superstition, so magnificently 
 adorned by our imaginative ancestors, and so unmerci- 
 fully levelled by our matter-of-fact selves. Indeed, 
 instead of deserving any misconstruction for what I do, 
 I may rather take to myself the credit due to a brave 
 seaman who sticks to his vessel as long as she will 
 swim, though perfectly conscious all the time that 
 there is a leak as big as a punch-bowl under her bows ; 
 and who only casts off the gig's painter when he sees 
 that no efforts of the crew can keep their shattered bark 
 afloat a moment longer. The cases I am about to 
 detail, appear to me to throw as strong a light on the 
 true origin of the belief in spectral visitations, as any of 
 those which have been placed before the public in the 
 History of Demonology and "Witchcraft ; and if I had 
 been so highly fortunate as to have had the honor of 
 Sir "Walter Scott's acquaintance, I should certainly 
 have made a respectful tender of my ghosts for his 
 acceptance and use.
 
 310 THE DECLINE 
 
 When I was about fifteen, it was my hap to be resi- 
 dent in a lonely part of the suburbs of London. The 
 house was occupied by a large family, including five 
 or six domestics. Nevertheless, as it was about the 
 period of the Mar and Williamson murders, which 
 spread a panic terror throughout the metropolis and its 
 environs, we were desired by the master of the mansion 
 to secure our chamber doors at night ; which injunction 
 I, in common with the rest of the inmates, religiously 
 obeyed. 
 
 It was about the beginning of January when the 
 event I am about to relate occurred, and I perfectly 
 remember, that it was on a Sunday night. The family 
 were at rest, and I had been asleep for about three 
 hours when I was awakened, probably by the cold, for 
 the season was extremely severe. I first looked towards 
 the window, through which I beheld the fleecy clouds 
 careering before a strong gale across the clear orb of a 
 bright frosty moon ; while here and there the breaks 
 in the cottony masses exhibited, in strong contrast to 
 their own snowy purity, the deep azure of the firma- 
 ment where a few stars sparkled with extraordinary 
 lustre. On the opposite side of the street I saw the
 
 AND FAIL OF GHOSTS. 311 
 
 roofs add chimneys heavily laden with snow, while the 
 only noises that struck my ear were the whistling of 
 the gale amongst a few leafless poplars, which stood 
 before the house, and the tramp of the watchman, 
 which, more rapid than usual, returned that dull crisp 
 sound produced hy treading on snow. As the guardian 
 of the night passed our doors, he cried half past one 
 o'clock, and I could hear him flapping his breast and 
 taking each step with a stamp, as one contending 
 furiously against the cold. I mention these trivial 
 matters to show that what followed was no dream in 
 the common acceptation of that term. As there was 
 nothing very profitable in contemplating the moon, and 
 the "early village cock" was not likely to tune his 
 clarion for some hours, I resolved again to address 
 myself to sleep, and for that purpose, gathering together 
 a good grasp of blankets and counterpane, I commenced 
 shifting my position from the right to the left side. 
 In performing this evolution my eyes of course glanced 
 across the foot of the bed, (where the curtains had been 
 left open,) and in their quick transit encountered an 
 object which speedily brought me to a full stop with 
 half my projected manoeuvre unaccomplished. I sank
 
 312 THE DECLINE 
 
 on my back with my eyes peculiarly wide open, and 
 well they might be. Eight at the foot of the bed stood 
 a figure, at least seven feet high, enveloped from head 
 to foot in a dark drapery, which concealed any features 
 it might have possessed, and fell in ample and heavy 
 folds to the ground. The moon threw but a faint light 
 into that portion of the apartment, but still sufficient 
 for the clear, decided, relief of the dark figure from the 
 less dusky back-ground. 
 
 My first sensation was not fear, because I imagined 
 that it could only be a trick of some of the young 
 people or servants in the house, and I resolved to dis- 
 appoint the joke by the extreme non-chalance of my 
 behaviour ; but it suddenly occurred to me that I had 
 shot the night-bolt as directed on retiring to bed, so 
 that no " creature of earth's mould " could have found 
 access to my chamber. This unconsolatory recollection 
 produced a slight flutter about my heart, and a gentle 
 tingling in the extremities by no means agreeable, and 
 which were certainly not diminished by the behaviour 
 of my visitant. If it had moved, I thought it would 
 have given me relief: but no, there it stood, dark, 
 gigantic, motionless, and voiceless, as one of those
 
 AND FALL OF GHOSTS. 313 
 
 mysterious statues which awe the traveller in the 
 solitude of Thebes or Luxor ; and what was worse, I 
 felt from the position of the head, which was palpably 
 defined beneath the drapery, that its terrible eyes were 
 looking right into my own. I once or twice endea- 
 voured to say something complimentary, as I was fully 
 aware of the etiquette to be observed in all communica- 
 tions with ghosts, who, according to the best accounts 
 never open the debate ; but I confess, that besides 
 feeling a sensation in my throat which I conceive a 
 man would experience after swallowing a pound or 
 two of sawdust, I was afraid to hear the sound of my 
 own voice, and laboured under a great misgiving as to 
 the effect which it might produce ; so, gradually, as the 
 only other course to be adopted, I drew my legs 
 stealthily up as far as I could, sunk my head slowly 
 beneath the counterpane, and assumed, as nearly as the 
 human form divine will permit, the attitude of a hedge- 
 hog when he hears the near yelpings of half a dozen 
 terriers. It was luckily a freezing night or I should 
 have been suffocated ; as it was the fountains of my 
 forehead were opened, and while my heart kept beating 
 a most remarkable tattoo within, my outward man was
 
 314 THE DECLINE 
 
 now suffused by the worst damp glow of a rainy day in 
 Bengal, and then again visited by such a shiver as a 
 shower-bath affords in the month of January. 
 
 All this was very weak and pusillanimous, but I had 
 been infamously exposed to ghost stories in my child- 
 hood ; and besides, this was no ordinary visitation but a 
 creature seven feet high, which I could by no means 
 account for as most of my friends and relatives deceased 
 had been middle-sized people, and the Irish giant was 
 not then dead. But be that as it may, I lay nestling 
 under the blankets, and prodigiously uncomfortable, 
 until I again heard the tramp of the watchman. As he 
 passed the door, and cried lustily " past two o'clock " 
 The very sound of a human voice was cheering, and 
 inspired me with sense enough to reflect on my own 
 folly. Pooh ! I thought, this is worse than " the baby of 
 a girl." I have had the nightmare, or been frightened 
 by a dream, nous verrons. With the daring then of the 
 great Eoman who was an older and more terrible lion 
 than danger, I relieved my unhappy head from some 
 ten-pound weight of sheets, blankets, and other com- 
 forts, and looked boldly towards the foot of the bed. 
 Positively I saw the very figure as I had last shut it
 
 AND FALL OP GHOSTS. 315 
 
 from my sight; silent, motionless, gigantic, and as 
 palpable as the silver moon which glittered in at the 
 window, or the articles of furniture which it lighted in 
 the room. I confess that I was, to use a sailor's 
 phrase, completely "taken aback" by a phenomenon I 
 had so little anticipated ; but, resolved to make such 
 use as the exigency of the moment would permit of 
 whatever sense had not been frightened out of me, I 
 commenced a vigorous practical enquiry as to whether I 
 was really asleep or awake. Eamming my knuckles 
 two or three times into my eyes, and a smart pinch of 
 the arm, convinced me that I was not in the former 
 state, a fact which received fresh corroboration from my 
 senses generally. I still saw the clear moon, the white 
 clouds drifting rapidly over the heavens, the few 
 twinkling stars, and the roofs of the opposite houses 
 with their thick, snowy covering. I heard the poplars 
 sighing and creaking in the gale, and the ticking of the 
 large house clock on the stairs in short, it was in vain 
 to try to persuade myself that I was asleep. Still 
 there stood my gigantic and silent visitant, though with 
 what purpose, except that of frightening an inoffensive 
 juvenile to death, I could not conjecture. Excess of
 
 316 THE DECLINE 
 
 terror, however, sometimes breeds courage, or that 
 despair which supplies its place : so arousing myself for 
 the awful effort, I prepared to address my ghost in 
 Nomine Domini, when all at once it moved ! A bat- 
 tery of twenty-four pounders opening unexpectedly 
 within six feet of my ear could not have startled me 
 more ! Slowly did the awful form extend its arms, 
 the heavy drapery falling from them in dark volumes ; 
 it bent over the bed in the attitude of one giving a 
 blessing, (though heaven knows the whole ceremony 
 was anything but a blessing to me,} and the veiled head 
 approached my face. There was no standing this, so I 
 once more took refuge in my covered way, though this 
 time not without a serious misgiving that I might 
 momentarily expect a tussle with my ghostly visitant 
 for the sheets and blankets ; or that I should speedily 
 feel a death-cold hand tugging at my leg. I was, to 
 say the truth, in an agony of terror only excusable in 
 the vicinity of a horror seven feet high and very exten- 
 sive ; I think, therefore, that I deserve some credit for 
 that rally of audacity which emboldened me, on hearing 
 the watchman again pass by, crying past three o'clock, 
 to uncover the corner of one eye. A timid glance at
 
 AND FALL OF GHOSTS. 317 
 
 the foot of nay bed, and a rapid one round the chamber, 
 gave me the gratifying assurance that the ghost was 
 gone. 
 
 On the following morning, I examined the night 
 bolt : it was all fast. I endeavoured to discover 
 whether anything in the apartment could have cast 
 a shadow at all resembling my spectral visitant. I 
 saw clearly that it was impossible. I gave up a dozen 
 attempts to imagine some natural solution of the appa- 
 rition in despair, and at length became so assured of my 
 having been actually face to face with some " spirit or 
 goblin damned," (though whether it came with 
 " intents wicked or charitable," it was impossible for 
 me to conjecture,) that I mentioned the visitation to no 
 one, because I felt reluctant to expose myself to ridicule 
 for believing firmly in such a fact, which it was still 
 utterly impossible for me to doubt. 
 
 Some time after the occurrence I have narrated, it 
 was my good or ill luck to be attached to an expedition 
 which sailed from Sicily under the orders of General 
 Frederick Maitland, and which, after going into the 
 Bay of Palamos, and coming out again with a very 
 resolute air, finally settled itself down iu the fortified
 
 318 THE DECLINE 
 
 city of Alicant, to the great edification of the people of 
 that pleasant place and the parts adjacent. 
 
 The first real march we made, after a good deal of 
 mysterious dodging in and out of the town, was a most 
 disagreeable specimen of campaigning ; for although we 
 did not fight, "because there was no enemy to fight 
 withal," yet to show, I suppose, that we scorned to 
 take a base advantage of the foe and come upon him by 
 surprise, we contrived by a marvellous deliberation of 
 movement which I could not have believed practicable, 
 to march on a very excellent road, a " camino realf," 
 about fourteen miles in seventeen hours, for the greater 
 part of which period our men, not long out of ships, 
 were exposed to the united pleasantries of green grapes 
 and a burning sun. Next day, I remember, we marched 
 back again. However, that is less to the purpose than 
 what I am about to relate. 
 
 Having " eaten dirt," as the Persians say, in the 
 most literal manner imaginable, and been half calcined 
 by a Valencian sun during our dignified procession of 
 seventeen hours, I was, on reaching our ground, suffi- 
 ciently weary, and gladly accepted the offer of some 
 " gracious Duncan," to repose in a waggon nearly full of
 
 AND FALL OF GHOSTS. 319 
 
 bags of biscuits and little rum puncheons. I, no doubt, 
 slept well : time indeed, seemed annihilated between the 
 period at which I closed my eyes, and that when I 
 opened them again on a lovely summer dawn in the 
 sweet south. The moon at full, and gloriously brilliant, 
 was still high in the heavens ; three parts of the mild 
 azure canopy, were sprinkled with glowing stars, in 
 the fourth they already paled before the gently coming 
 Aurora. Far around me was the " stilly hum " of the 
 army so beautifully noticed by the greatest of dramatists. 
 Closer to my wheeled resting place the tinkling of the 
 mule bells made pleasing music to the ear, while 
 another organ inhaled unoffended the incense, not 
 ungrateful at early morn, of the muleteers cigars. 
 
 On a sudden I heard the clattering of many horses 
 hoofs along the " camino reale" the hard high road 
 from which our waggons had turned into the large 
 field they occupied : (I am sorry to say it was one of 
 green wheat.) Presently the noise seemed deadened, 
 as by the riders turning into the soft ground of the field, 
 and left the ringing of accoutrements and of bridles more 
 audible. I looked towards the quarter from whence the 
 sounds proceeded, and saw General Mackenzie, who
 
 320 THE DECLINE 
 
 commanded the Brigade to which I was attached, Colonel 
 Donkin, the Quarter-Master-General of our army, with 
 an aid-de-camp of the former, our Brigade-Major, and 
 about a dozen of the 20th Light Dragoons, in the bear- 
 skinned helmet of that day. The whole party had 
 just turned into the field, and were advancing towards 
 my bivouac at an easy canter. There was nothing 
 very wonderful in all this, but there was something 
 exceedingly perplexing in a circumstance attending it. 
 I have already said that the moon shone with great 
 lustre, and that morning was breaking ; yet notwith- 
 standing several of the Dragoons carried torches, the 
 red light of which flashing on the sabres of their com- 
 rades, or reflected from the silver mountings of their 
 own dark helmets, formed a fine contrast of colour to the 
 pale lustre of the moon sleeping on the green wheat- 
 field. While I was still speculating on the cause of 
 this unusual and gratuitous illumination, the Brigade- 
 Major detached himself from the group in a smart 
 gallop, and reining up when he arrived within a few 
 yards of the waggons, called out : 
 
 " Where is the Commissariat officer in charge of 
 these waggons r They must be immediately drawn off :
 
 AND FALL Ul i.lluM-. 321 
 
 the artillery are to occupy this ground." So, thought 
 I, Monsieur le Due d'Albafuera is more on the alert 
 than some folks imagined ; and, though the effects of 
 yesterday's promenade would have given infinite zest to 
 a recumbent position for half an hour longer, I was 
 about to spring from my waggon, when all at once, 
 I found myself alone with the moon and stars, the 
 dawn, the field of green wheat, the tinkling of mule 
 bells, the smell of cigars, and the guttural murmurs of 
 the muleteers but no General Mackenzie, no Donkin, 
 no Brigade Major with a sonorous voice, leather-lined 
 and many-buttoned over-alls, and cocked hat shaped 
 like the new moon in a consumption ; and above all, no 
 20th Light Dragoons with their perplexing torches. 
 Every object around was precisely as it had appeared to 
 me the very instant before, excepting the dignified and 
 martial personages who were careering over the wheat 
 field ; but whether they had descended through a trap 
 door, like Don Juan in the Pantomime, or vanished into 
 thin air, surpassed my comprehension. All at once the 
 whole truth came upon me, with the recollection of my 
 old acquaintance seven feet high ; that had been a 
 delusion of the waking imagination like this this at
 
 322 THE DECLINE 
 
 once explained that my eyes had on that occasion 
 betrayed and deceived me, leaving all my other senses 
 alert, on duty, and to explain as well as they could the 
 treachery of their absent comrades. 
 
 On this occasion both my eyes and ears had conspired 
 to act in the same unbecoming manner ; for I could 
 infinitely sooner comprehend such a solution of the 
 phenomenon, than that a Major General, three Staff 
 Officers, and a batch of that particularly ruddy regi- 
 ment, the 20th Light Dragoons, coxild have become 
 ghosts in the space of a few hours, unless, indeed, a 
 battle had been fought while I was asleep. 
 
 Since the period I have alluded to my " experiences " 
 I believe the phrase is considered a good phrase on 
 certain occasions of an analogous description my 
 ghostly experiences have been frequent, especially since 
 my constitution has paid its usual tribute to this 
 pleasant country.* My ghosts, although they have 
 not disappeared with " a curious perfume and a me- 
 lodious twang," have yet been satisfactory ghosts 
 enough. 
 
 On one occasion, while I was actually engaged in 
 * "Written in India.
 
 \M> FALL OF GHOSTS. 323 
 
 conversation touching the purchase of an Arab mare, 
 with a man lying in the same room, up stepped a 
 mutual Mend of yours and mine, who will not I trust 
 be a ghost for these fifty years, but who was then at 
 sea for his health ; up he came I say with a bloodless 
 dead face, dressed (it ought to have been the ghost of 
 Sheridan's confidante) entirely in white linen, ten feet 
 high, aud leaning on a pair of gigantic crutches. This 
 pleasing creature took up his station in the recess of the 
 window, nor could any effort of mine banish him from 
 it for full a quarter of an hour, although I continued 
 in conversation anont the projected " deal " nearly the 
 whole time. 
 
 At another period, (it was on board of the H.C. 
 Ship, Princess Charlotte of Wales,) a sailor drowned 
 that morning stood, livid and dripping, most per- 
 sevcringly by my swinging cot, with his blue swollen 
 visage and glassy eyes close to my own; and though 
 of course my "experiences" had by this time enabled 
 me to estimate sueh delusions at their real value, I 
 cannot say that I felt any peculiar satisfaction from 
 the presence of this visitor io my imagination from 
 the dark deplhs of the ureaii.
 
 324 THE DECLIXE 
 
 On a third occasion, at the foot of my bed, sat a very 
 lovely young woman, whom we both remember, dressed 
 in a splendid ball dress, with a wreath of bright hued 
 flowers twined amidst the clustering locks of her beau- 
 tiful hair : but her fine eyes were dim and glassy, her 
 very perfect features were as those of the dead, and 
 there was in them an expression of woe and misery 
 indescribable. I endeavoured to detain this interesting 
 spectre, but in vain ; in about a quarter of an hour the 
 form became indistinct, and gradually mingled with the 
 darkness of the apartment. Oddly enough this lady 
 had died on board of ship on her way to England in a 
 strange and most melancholy manner ; nor had the news 
 of her decease reached India when I was favoured with 
 the visitation I have described a very unexpected one 
 in truth, as I had scarcely the honor of her acquaintance, 
 and certainly had not thought or heard of her for at 
 least two years. This, then, was a very perfect ghost, 
 for she was dead, her death was as yet unknown, and 
 she had been, I may almost say, murdered. This then, 
 I repeat, was a most unexceptionable apparition but for 
 my previous "experiences," and but for one circum- 
 stance of a peculiarly unromantic and unspiritual nature.
 
 AND FALL Of GHOSTS. 325 
 
 I said the beautiful and mournful form sat at the foot 
 of my bed, " korresco referenx," it was upon a chillum- 
 chee. Not the ghost of a chillumchee,* my dear John, 
 but an actual chillumchee in bodily presence, which I 
 had not remarked over night, but which was made 
 apparent by the kind of faint light that surrounded 
 my lovely ghost, and which identical chillumchee I 
 found in the same place on the following morning. 
 
 But for my moral. Although " one swallow does not 
 make a summer," one ghost may make a believer. Had 
 I never been thoroughly duped by my waking senses 
 but once, and on that occasion my visitation had cor- 
 responded so closely as it did correspond with the most 
 approved apparitions on record, I should in all proba- 
 bility have remained to this day impressed with a 
 firm assurance, that ghosts aje permitted to go to and 
 fro on earth for the purpose of frightening people into 
 cold perspirations ; but when the delusion was cleared 
 up in my own instance, the explanation brought with it 
 a still firmer assurance that ninety-nine cases of ghost, 
 out of every hundred, (far from being stories made "for 
 
 * This is a brass vessel upon a tripod, used for washing the 
 hands in Bengal.
 
 326 DECLINE AND FALL OF GHOSTS. 
 
 the nonce,") are exactly as well founded as my own 
 first apparition and no better ; whilst the remaining 
 fraction is either composed of tales altogether fictitious, 
 of singular but calculable coincidences, (on which by 
 the way a long chapter of authentic "experiences" 
 might be written,) and lastly of impositions upon 
 credulity or weakness. For my part, however, I must 
 repeat my conviction, that no one would ever believe in 
 ghosts, who had been half so much annoyed by them as, 
 my dear John, 
 
 Your affectionate friend, 
 H. M. P. 
 
 KND OF VOL. I. 
 
 London: VARTV, Printer, Camomile Street, Bishopsgatr.

 
 A 000 023 844 4