HEART §g OAR RGOKS lCH/\RLES ELIQT NQKTQNl UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA DEPARTMENT OF EDUCATION A. F. Lange \^mm^ vH "-1 •'}■■' ,v>.-:; . . •1 .' * , . -..;..,_*.. — , • ' < THE HEART OP OAK BOOKS A COLLECTION OF TRADITIONAL EHYMES AND STORIES FOR CHILDREN, AND OF MASTERPIECES OF POETRY AND PROSE FOR USE AT HOME AND AT SCHOOL, CHOSEN WITH SPECIAL REFERENCE TO THE CULTIV^ATION OF THE IMAGINATION AND THE DEVELOPMENT OF A TASTE FOR GOOD READING In .Seben Uolumes Volume V Frontispiece. SIR GALAHAD. After the picture by G. F. Watts. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS EDITED BY CHARLES ELIOT NORTON riftb Book REVISED EDJT'CJ' ILLUSTRATED BOSTON, U.S.A. D. C. HEATH & CO., PUBLISHERS 1908 COPYBIGIIT, 1895 AND 1903, By CHARLES ELIOT NORTON. >::;"r ;•;:.:•:: • • •* " • • •• * '*• • " • •*« ACKNOWLEDGMENTS. In the preparation of the Heart of Oak Books I have received assistance of various sorts from various persons, to all of whom I offer my thanks. I regret that I am not allowed to mention by name one without whose help the Books would not have been made, and to whose hand most of the Notes are due. The accuracy of the text of the pieces of which the volumes are composed has been secured by the painstaking and schol- arly labor of Mr. George H. Browne of Cambridge, Mass. C. E. NORTON. The selections from Longfellow, Lowell, Hawthorne, Whit- tier, and Emerson in these books are used by permission of the publishers of the works of these authors, Houghton, Mifflin, & Co., and by special agreement with them. D. C. HEATH & CO. 562r)r>l PREFACE. A TASTE for good reading is an acquisition the worth of which is hardly to be overestimated ; and yet a majority of children, even of those favored by circumstance, grow up without it. This defect is due partly to the fault or ignorance of parents and teachers ; partly, also, to the want, in many cases, of the proper means of cultivation. For this taste, like most others, is usually not so much a gift of nature as a product of cultivation. A wide difference exists, indeed, in children in respect to their natural inclination for reading, but there are few in whom it cannot be more or less developed by careful and judicious training. This training should begin very early. Even before the child has learned the alphabet, his mother's lullaby or his nurse's song may have begun the attuning of his ear to the melodies of verse, and the quickening of his mind with pleas- ant fancies. As he grows older, his first reading should be. made attractive to him by its ease and entertainment. The reading lesson should never be hard or dull; nor should it be made the occasion for instruction in any specific branch of knowledge. The essential thing is that in beginning to learn to read the child should like what he reads or hears read, and that the matter should be of a sort to fix itself in his mind without wearisome effort. He should be led on by pleasure from step to step. vii Vlll PBEFACE. His very first reading should mainly consist in what may cultivate his ear for the music of verse, and may rouse his fancy. And to this end nothing is better than the rhymes and jingles which have sung themselves, generation after genera^ tion, in the nursery or on the playground. " Mother Goose " is the best primer. No matter if the rhymes be nonsense verses ; many a poet might learn the lesson of good versifica- tion from them, and the child in repeating them is acquiring the accent of emphasis and of rhythmical form. Moreover, the mere art of reading is the more readily learned, if the words first presented to the eye of the child are those which are already familiar to his ear. The next step is easy, to the short stories which have been told since the world was young ; old fables in which the teach- ings of long experience are embodied, legends, fairy tales, which form the traditional common stock of the fancies and sentiment of the race. These naturally serve as the gate of entrance into the wide open fields of literature, especially into those of poetry. Poetry is one of the most efficient means of education of the moral sentiment, as well as of the intelligence. It is the source of the best culture. A man may know all science and yet remain uneducated. But let him truly possess himself of the work of any one of the great poets, and no matter what else he may fail to know, he is not without education. The field of good literature is so vast that there is some- thing in it for every intelligence. But the field of bad litera- ture is not less broad, and is likely to be preferred by the common, uncultivated taste. To make good reading more attractive than bad, to give right direction to the choice, the growing intelligence of the child should be nourished with PREFACE. IX selected portions of the best literature, the virtue of which has been approved by long consent. These selections, besides merit in point of literary form, should possess as general human interest as possible, and should be specially chosen with reference to the culture of the imagination. The imagination is the supreme intellectual faculty, and yet it is of all the one which receives least attention in our common systems of education. The reason is not far to seek. The imagination is of all the faculties the most difficult to control, it is the most elusive of all, the most far-reaching in its relations, the rarest in its full power. But upon its healthy development depend not only the sound exercise of the faculties of observation and judgment, but also the com- mand of the reason, the control of the will, and the quicken- ing and growth of the moral sympathies. The means for its culture which good reading affords is the most generally avail- able and one of the most efficient. To provide this means is the chief end of the Heart of Oak series of Keading Books. The selections which it con- tains form a body of reading, adapted to the progressive needs of childhood and youth, chosen from the masterpieces of the literature of the English-speaking race. For the most part they are pieces already familiar and long accepted as among the best, wherever the English language is spoken. The youth who shall become acquainted with the contents of these volumes will share in the common stock of the intel- lectual life of the race to which he belongs; and will have the door opened to him of all the vast and noble resources of that life. The books are meant alike for the family and the school. The teacher who may use them in the schoolroom will find in X PREFACE. them a variety large enough, for the different capacities and interests of his pupils, and will find nothing in them but what may be of service to himself also. Every competent teacher will already be possessed of much which they contain ; but the worth of the masterpieces of any art increases with use and familiarity of association. They grow fresher by custom ; and the love of them deepens in proportion to the time we have known them, and to the memories with which they have become invested. In the use of these books in the education of children, it is desirable that much of the poetry which they contain should be committed to memory. To learn by heart the best poems is one of the best parts of the school education of the child. But it must be learning by heart; that is, not merely by rote as a task, but by heart as a pleasure. The exercise, however difficult at first, becomes easy with continual practice. At first the teacher must guard against exacting too much ; weari- ness quickly leads to disgust ; and the young scholar should be helped to find delight in work itself. It will be plain to every teacher, after brief inspection, that these books differ widely from common School Keaders. Their object is largely different. They are, in brief, meant not only as manuals for learning to read, but as helps to the cultivation of the taste, and to the healthy development of the imagina- tion of those who use them, and thus to the formation and invigoration of the best elements of character. C. B. N. TABLE OF CONTENTS. Book V. PAGE The Whistle Benjamin Franklin 1 Incidents in the Early Life of Thomas Holcroft. . . Thomas Holcroft 2 Yussouf James Russell Lowell 7 The Story of Sinbad the Sailor, Arabian Nights Jonathan Scott 8 The Death of King Arthur Sir Thomas Malory 64 The Passing of Arthur Alfred^ Lord Tennyson 68 Sir Galahad Alfred, Lord Tennyson 78 Vanity Fair John Bunyan 81 Will you buy any Tape ? William Shakespeare 92 The Death of Caesar, from Plutarch's Life Sir Thomas North 92 Sir Patrick Spens 104 Chevy Chase 109 Bewick and Grahame 118 Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled Robert Burns V2'l Chapters from Tales of a Grandfather Sir Walter Scott The Story of Sir William Wallace 128 The Rise of Robert the Bruce 143 The Exploits of Douglas and of Randolph 167 The Battle of Bannockburn 181 The Exploits of Edward Bruce, of Douglas and Randolph, and the Death of Robert Bruce 190 AUin a Dale 205 You are Old, Eather William Lewis Carroll 209 Youth and Age William Shakespeare 210 The Ballad of East and West Rudyard Kipling 211 Incident of the French Camp Robert Browning 216 Hero and Leander Charles Tennyson Turner 218 . xi xii TABLE OF CONTENTS. PAOK Lord Ullin's Daughter Tliomas Campbell 218 How they brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix Robert Browning 220 The Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers in New England Felicia Browne Hemans 223 The Battle of Trafalgar and the Death of Nelson. . .Bobert Southey 224 Home Thoughts from the Sea Bobert Browning 244 Columbus Arthur Hugh Clough 245 Helvellyn Sir Walter Scott 246 Jaffar Leigh Hunt 248 Autobiography Benjamin Franklin Beginning Life in Philadelphia 249 The Defeat of General Braddock 263 The Diverting History of John Gilpin William Cowper 269 The Sailor's Consolation Charles Dibdin 278 Abou Ben Adhem Leigh Hunt 279 The Glory of the English Tongue Bichard, Lord Houghton 280 Where lies the Land ? Arthur Hugh Clough 281 Christmas Alfred, Lord Tennyson 282 The Kitten and Falling Leaves William Wordsworth 283 A Pilgrim • John Bunyan 284 The Little Black Boy William Blake 285 The Tiger William Blake 287 The Fly • William Oldys 288 The Dog and the Water-Lily William Cowper 288 To a Water-Fowl William Cullen Bryant 290 The Last Leaf Oliver Wendell Holmes 291 " As an Oak whose Leaf fadeth " Edward Fitzgerald 293 " When Sir W;alter Scott lay dying " Edward Fitzgerald 293 Concord Hymn Balph Waldo Emerson 294 Notes 296 Index op Wkitbks 301 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. Book V. FACING PAGE Sir Galahad G. F. Watts. Frontispiece " The serpent came to the foot of the tree " Ernest Foshery 28 "As soon as I entered the cavern I lost all light". .Ernest Fosbei-y 50 "The judge's name was Lord Hategood^' Fred Barnard 86 "The Strong Castle of Dunottar " From a photograph 134 The Castle of Edinburgh From a photograph 172 " A strong Castle near Linlithgow " From a photograph 176 " You are old, father William " Sir John I'enniel 2':8 " You are old, father William " ,...Sir John Tenniel 210 The Battle of Trafalgar W. C. StandfieJd 232 View on Third Street from Spruce Street, Philadelphia From old engraving 256 The Monument at Concord» From a photograph 294 xiii THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. FIFTH book; THE WHISTLE. Benjamin FranJcUn. When I was a child of seven years old, my friends, on a holiday, filled my pocket with coppers. I went directly to a shop where they sold toys for children, and being charmed with the sound of a whistle, that I met by the way in the hands of another boy, I voluntarily offered and gave all my money for one. I then came home, and went whistling all over the house, much pleased with my ivJiistle, but disturbing all the family. My brothers, and sisters and cousins, under- standing the bargain I had made, told me I had given four times as much for it as it was worth ; put me in mind what good things I might have bought with the rest of the money ; and laughed at me so much for my folly, that I cried with vexation; and the reflection gave me more chagrin thali the whistle gave me pleasure. This, however, was afterwards of use to me, the impression continuing in my mind ; so that often, when I was tempted to buy some unnecessary thing, I said to myself, DonH give too much f 07' the whistle; and I saved my money. As I grew up, came into the world, and observed the actions of men, I thought I met with many, very many, who gave too much for the whistle. X 2 INCIBEST^ TN EARLY LIFE OF THOMAS IIOLCEOFT, INCIDENTS IN THE EARLY LIFE OF THOMAS HOLCllOFT. Ft^om the " Memoirs of Thomas Holcroft." I WAS born in London, in Orange Court, Leicester Fields, on the 10th day of December, 1745, old style. Most persons, I believe, retain through life a few strong impressions of very early childhood. I have a recollection of being played with by my parents, when very young, and of the extreme pleasure it gave me. On another occasion, as I and one or two of my brothers or sisters were playing in the court, and kneeling and peeping down a cellar window, \vhere there were some fowls, a shutter that belonged to the window, and was fastened up, by some means or other got loose, and entirely cut off one side of my sister Anne's thumb ; — a disaster never afterwards to be forgotten. My father one day whipped me very severely for crying to go to a school in the neighborhood, where children were sent rather to keep them out of the way, than to learn anything. He afterwards ordered an apprentice he had to take me to school. This apprentice was an exceed- ingly hard-featured youth, with thick lips, wide mouth, broad nose, and his face very much marked with the small-pox, but very kind and good-tempered. I perfectly remember his carry- ing me in my petticoats, consoling me as we went, and giving me something nice to eat. Perhaps I bear his features in mind the more accurately, because I occasionally saw him afterwards, till I was seven or eight years old, when he used to visit my father, who was then under misfortunes. He seldom came without something kind to say, or good to give: but his last and capital gift, too precious to be ever forgotten, consisted of two small books. One was the History of Parismus and Parismenes, and the other, of the Seven Champions of Chris- THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 3 tendom. These were to me an inestimable treasure, that often brought the rugged, good-natured Dick to my remembrance, with no slight sense of obligation. . . . I must have been about five years old, when my father put me under the tuition of a player on the violin, who was a pub- lic performer of some repute. Either parental fondness led my father to believe, or he was flattered into the supposition, chat I had an uncommon aptitude for the art I had been put to learn. I shall never forget the high praises I received, the affirmation that I was a prodigy, and the assurances my teacher gave that I should soon be heard in public. These dreams were never realized. . . . When I was about six years old, the scene suddenly changed. The house-keeping broke up, the horses were sold, and we went into Berkshire, somewhat beyond Ascot Heath, about thirty miles from London. The house where we lived was situated at the corner of the road, the last of a small green, or common, down which the road had a descent. For I remember my father at first had a tall, high-boned hack, on the bare back of which I used, by his order, to gallop down the hill, though I felt great difficulty in keeping my seat. It was in this retired spot that my father himself began to teach me to read. The task at first I found difficult, till the idea one day suddenly seized me of catching all the sounds I had been taught from the arrangement of the letters ; and my joy at this amazing discovery was so great, that the recollection of it has never been effaced. After that, my progress was so rapid, that it astonished my father. He boasted of me to everybody ; and that I might lose no time, the task he set me was eleven chapters a day in the Old Testament. I might indeed have deceived my father by skipping some of the chapters, but a dawning regard for truth, aided by the love I had of reading, and the wonderful histories I sometimes found in the Sacred 4 INCIDENTS IN EARLY LIFE OF THOMAS HOLCBOFl,, Writings, generally induced me to go through, the whole of my task. One day as I was sitting at the gate with my Bible in my hand, a neighboring farmer, coming to see my father, asked me if I could read the Bible already ? I answered, yes ; and he desired me to let him hear me. I began at the place where the book was open, read fluently, and afterwards told him, that if he pleased, he should hear the tenth chapter of Nehemiah. At this he seemed still more amazed, and, wishing to be convinced, bade me read. After listening till he found I could really pronounce the uncouth Hebrew names so much better and more easily than he supposed to be within the power of so young a child, he patted my head, gave me a penny, and said I was an uncommon boy. It would be hard to say whether his praise or his gift was most flattering to me. Soon after, my father's apprentice, the kind-hearted Dick, who came backward and forward to my father on his affairs, brought me the two de- lightful histories I have above-mentioned, which were among those then called Chapman's Books. It was scarcely possible for anything to have been more grateful to me than this pres- ent. Parismus and Parismenes, with all the adventures de- tailed in the Seven Champions of Christendom, were soon as familiar to me as my catechism, or the daily prayers I repeated kneeling before my father. Oh, how I loved poor Dick ! My father was an excellent pedestrian, and would often walk to London and back again, more than sixty miles, in the same day. Sometimes he dined at home, and went to London in the afternoon, and even then, I rather think, though I cannot be certain, that he made a point of sleeping in his own house. One afternoon, he was desirous of going to town at a later hour than usual, and therefore, for expedition's sake, he bor- rowed a light grey horse of a neighbor, on condition that it should be returned that evening. He then mounted, and placed me behind him, trusting to my courage and good sense THE HEABT OF OAK BOOKS. 5 for finding my way home with, the horse. I know not how far he took me, except that we passed over some part of Ascot Heath, if not all of it ; and about an hour before it was dark, he alighted, left me on horseback, and carefully gave me such directions as he supposed I could not mistake. In this he con- jectured rightly; I began to trot away, anxious to get home before it was too dark j but unluckily for me, some time after we had parted, with no human being in sight, nor any likelihood of meeting one, the horse stumbled among some ruts, and threw my hat off. To have lost my hat would have been a terrible misfortune; I therefore ventured to alight and pick it up. Then it was that I perceived my distress. I found every attempt I made to remount wholly ineffectual, and all I could do was to endeavor to drag the sluggish animal along, and cry bitterly. Twilight was fast approaching, and I alone on the heath (I knew not how far from home), and never expecting to reach that desired place that evening. At length, however, the white railing of the race course on Ascot Heath came in sight, and I conceived hopes of remoimting. Accordingly, I with great difficulty prevailed on my grey nag to stand toler- ably nigh the railing, on which I clambered, and with almost unspeakable joy I found myself once more seated on his back. I had another piece of good fortune ; for, before I had gone far, a neighbor happened to be passing, who, seeing a child so cir- cumstanced, came up, asked me some questions, heard the story I had to tell, and conveyed me safe not only to the village, but to his own house, where he gave me something comfortable to eat and drink, sent the horse to its right owner, and put me into the charge of some one, who took me home. . . . My father was very fond, and not a little vain, of me. He delighted to show how much I was superior to other children, and this propensity had sometimes a good effect. One evening when it was quite dark, day-light having entirely disappeared, 6 INCIDENTS IN EARLY LIFE OF THOMAS HOLCROFT, and the night being cloudy, he was boasting to a neighbor of my courage ; and his companion seeming rather to doubt, my father replied, he would put it immediately to the proof. " Tom," said he, " you must go to the house of Farmer such- a-one " (I well remember the walk, but not the name of the person), " and ask whether he goes to London to-morrow.'^ I was startled, but durst not dispute his authority, it was too great over me, besides that my vanity to prove my valor was not a little excited : accordingly, I took my hat and immediately obeyed. The house I was sent to, as far as I can remember, must have been between a quarter and half a mile distant ; and the road that led to it, was by the side of the ledge on the left hand of the common. However, I knew the way well enough, and proceeded ; but it was with many stops, starts, and fears. It may be proper to observe here, that although I could not have been without courage, yet I was really, when a child, ex- ceedingly apprehensive, and full of superstition. When I saw magpies, it denoted good or ill luck according, as they did or did not cross me. When walking, I pored for pins or rusty nails j which, if they lay in certain directions, foreboded some misfort- une. Many such whims possessed my brain ; I was therefore not at all free from notions of this kind, on the present occasion. However, I went forward on my errand, humming, whistling, and looking as carefully as I could ; now and then making a false step, which helped to relieve me, for it obliged me to attend to the road. When I came to the farm-house, I de- livered my message. "Bless me, child," cried the people within, " have you come this dark night all alone ? " " Oh yes," I said, assuming an air of self-consequence. " And who sent you ? " " My father wanted to know,'^ I replied equivo- cally. One of them then offered to take me home, but of this I would by no means admit. My whole little stock of vanity was roused, and I hastily scampered out of the house, and was hidden in the dark. My return was something, but TBE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 7 not much, less alarming tlian my journey tliitlier. At last I got safely home, glad to be rid of my fears, and inwardly not a little elated with my success. " Did you hear or see anybody, Tom," said my father, " as you went or came back ? " " No," said I, " it was quite dark ; not but I thought once or twice, I did hear something behind me." In fact, it was my father and his companion, who had followed me at a little distance. This, my father, in fondly praising me for my courage, some time after told me. YUSSOUF. James Russell Lowell. A STRANGER came one night to Yussouf's tent, Saying, "Behold one outcast and in dread, Against whose life the bow of power is bent, Who flies, and hath not where to lay his head; I come to thee for shelter and for food. To Yussouf, called through all our tribes ' The Good. " This tent is mine, " said Yussouf, " but no more Than it is God's; come in, and be at peace; Freely shalt thou partake of all my store As I of His who buildeth over these. Our tents His glorious roof of night and day. And at whose door none ever yet heard 'Nay.' " So Yussouf entertained his guest that night, And, waking him ere day, said : " Here is gold ; My swiftest horse is saddled for thy flight ; Depart before the prying day grow bold." J jj THE STORY OF SINE AD THE SAILOR. As one lamp lights another, nor grows less, So nobleness enkindleth nobleness. That inward light the stranger's face made grand, Which shines from all self -conquest; kneeling low, He bowed his forehead upon Yussouf's hand. Sobbing : " O Sheik, I cannot leave thee so ; I will repay thee ; all this thou hast done Unto that Ibrahim who slew thy son ! " " Take thrice the gold, " said Yussouf, " for with thee Into the desert, never to return. My one black thought shall ride away from me ; First-born, for whom by day and night I yearn, Balanced and just are all of God's decrees; Thou art avenged, my first-born, sleep in peace ! " THE STORY OF SINBAD THE SAILOR. From The Arabian Nights Entertainments. Translated by Jonathan Scott. In the reign of Haroon al Rusheed there lived at Bagdad a poor porter called Hinbad. One day, when the weather was excessively hot, he was employed to carry a heavy burden from one end of the town to the other. Being much fatigued, and having still a great way to go, he came into a street where a refreshing breeze blew on his face, and the pavement was sprinkled with rose-water. As he could not desire a better place to rest and recruit himself, he took off his load, and sat upon it, near a large mansion. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 9 He was much pleased that he stopped in this place, for the agreeable smell of wood of aloes, and of pastils that came from the house, mixing with the scent of the rose-water, com- pletely perfumed and embalmed the air. Besides, he heard from within a concert of instrumental music, accompanied with the harmonious notes of nightingales, and other birds peculiar to the climate. This charming melody, and the smell of several sorts of savory dishes, made the porter con- clude there was a feast with great rejoicings within. His business seldom leading him that way, he knew not to whom the mansion belonged; but to satisfy his curiosity, he went to some of the servants, whom he saw standing at the gate in magnificent apparel, and asked the name of the proprietor. "How," replied one of them, "do you live in Bagdad and know not that this is the house of Sinbad, the sailor, that famous voyager who has sailed round the world?" The porter, who had heard of this Sinbad's riches, could not but envy a man whose condition he thought to be as happy as his own was deplorable; and his mind being fretted with these reflections, he lifted up his eyes to heaven, and said loud enough to be heard, " Almighty creator of all things, consider the difference between Sinbad and me! I am every day exposed to fatigues and calamities, and can scarcely get coarse barley bread for myself and my family, whilst Sinbad pro- fusely expends immense riches, and leads a life of continual pleasure. What has he done .to obtain from thee a lot so agreeable? And what have I done to deserve one so wretched?" Having finished his expostulation, he struck his foot against the ground, like a man absorbed in grief and despair. While the porter was thus indulging his melancholy, a servant came out of the house, and taking him by the arm, bade him follow him, for Sinbad, his master, wanted to 10 THE STORY OF SINE AD THE SAILOR. speak to him. The repining Hinbad was not a little surprised at this compliment. For, considering what he had said, he was afraid Sinbad had sent for him to punish him : therefore he would have excused himself, alleging that he could not leave his burden in the middle of the street. But Sinbad's servants assured him they would look to it, and were so urgent with him, that he was obliged to yield. The servants brought him into a great hall, where a number of people sat round a table covered with all sorts of savory dishes. At the upper end sat a comely, venerable gentleman, with a long white beard, and behind him stood a number of officers and domestics, all ready to attend his pleasure. This personage was Sinbad. The porter, whose fear was in- creased at the sight of so many people, and of a banquet so sumptuous, saluted the company trembling. Sinbad bade him draw near, and seating him at his right hand, served him himself, and gave him excellent wine,. of which there was abundance upon the sideboard. When the repast was over, Sinbad addressed his conversa- tion to Hinbad; and calling him brother, according to the manner of the Arabians, when they are familiar one with another, inquired, his name and employment. "My lord," answered he, "my name is Hinbad." — "I am very glad to see. you," replied Sinbad; "and I dare say the same on behalf of all the company ; but I wish to hear from your own mouth what it was you lately said in the street." Sinbad had himself heard the porter complain through the window, and this it was that induced him to have him brought in. At this request Hinbad hung down his head in confusion, and replied, " My lord, I confess that my fatigue put me out of hum'or, and occasioned me to utter some indiscreet words, which I beg you to pardon." — " Do not think I am so unjust," resumed Sinbad, !'as to resent such a complaint. I con- THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS, 11 sider your condition, and instead of upbraiding, commiserate you. But I must rectify your error concerning myself. You think, no doubt, that I have acquired, without labor and trouble, the ease and indulgence which I now enjoy. But do not mistake; I did not attain to this happy condition without enduring for several years more trouble of body and mind than can well be imagined. Yes, gentlemen," he added, speaking to the whole company, " I can assure you, my troubles were so extraordinary, that they were calculated to discourage the most covetous from undertaking such voyages as I did to acquire riches. Perhaps you have never heard a distinct account of my wonderful adventures, and the dangers I encountered in my seven voyages; and since I have this opportunity, I will give you a faithful account of them, not doubting but it will be acceptable. As Sinbad wished to relate his adventures chiefly on the porter's account, he ordered his burden to be carried to the place of its destination, and then proceeded. THE FIRST VOYAGE. "I inherited from my father considerable property, the greater part of which I squandered in my youth in dissipation ; but I perceived my error, and reflected that riches were perishable, and quickly consumed by such ill managers as myself. I farther considered, that, by my i»regular way of living, I wretchedly misspent my time, which is, of all things, the most valuable. I remembered the saying of the great Solomon which I had frequently heard from my father, that death is more tolerable than poverty. Struck with these reflections, I collected the remains of my fortune, and sold all my effects by public auction. I then entered into a contract with some merchants, who traded by sea. I took 12 THE STOBY OF SINE AD THE SAILOE, the advice of such as I thought most capable of assisting me : and resolving to improve what money I had, I went to Bussorah, and embarked with several merchants on board a ship which we had jointly fitted out. "We set sail, and steered our course towards the Indies, through the Persian Gulf, which is formed by the coasts of Arabia Felix on the right and by those of Persia on the left, and, according to common opinion, is seventy leagues wide at the broadest place. The eastern sea, as well as that of the Indies, is very spacious. It is bounded on one side by the coasts of Abyssinia, and is four thousand and five hundred leagues in length to the isles of Vakvak. At first I was troubled with the sea-sickness, but speedily recovered my health, and was not afterwards subject to that complaint. "In our voyage we touched at several islands, where we sold or exchanged our goods. One day, whilst under sail, we were becalmed near a small island, but little elevated above the level of the water, and resembling a green meadow. The captain ordered his sails to be furled, and permitted such persons as were so inclined to land; of this number I was one. "But while we were enjoying ourselves in eating and drinking, and recovering ourselves from the fatigue of the sea, the island on a sudden trembled, and shook us terribly. The trembling of the island was perceived on board the ship, and we were called upon to re-embark speedily, or we should all be lost ; for what we took for an island proved to be the back of a sea monster. The nimblest got into the sloop, others betook themselves to swimming; but for myself, I was still upon the back of the creature when he dived into the sea, and I had time only to catch hold of a piece of wood that we had brought out of the ship to make a fire. Meanwhile, the cap- tain, having received those on board who were in the sloop, THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 13 and taken up some of those that swam, resolved to improve the favorable gale that had just risen, and hoisting his sails, pursued his voyage, so that it was impossible for me to recover the ship. "Thus was I exposed to the mercy of the waves. I struggled for my life all the rest of the day, and the fol- lowing night. By this time I found my strength gone, and despaired of saving my life, when happily a wave threw me against an island. The bank was high and rugged; so that I could scarcely have got up, had it not been for some roots of trees, which fortune seemed to have preserved in this place for my safety. Having reached the land, I lay down upon the ground half dead, until the sun appeared. Then, though I was very feeble, both from hard labor and want of food, I crept along to find some herbs fit to eat, and had the good luck, not only to procure some, but likewise to discover a spring of excellent water, which contributed much to recover me. After this I advanced farther into the island, and at last reached a fine plain, where at a great distance I perceived a horse feeding. I went towards it, fluctuating between hope and fear, for I knew not whether in advancing I was more likely to endanger or to preserve my life. As I approached, I perceived it to be a very fine mare, tied to a stake. Whilst I was admiring its beauty, I heard from beneath the voice of a man, who immediately appeared, and asked me who I was. I related to him my adventure, after which, taking me by the hand, he led me into a cave, where there were several other people, no less amazed to see me than I was to see them. "I partook of some provisions which they offered me. I then asked them what they did in such a desert place, to which they answered, that they were grooms belonging to the Maha-raja, sovereign of the island, and that every year, at 14 THE 8T0BY OF SIN BAD THE SAILOR. the same season, they brought thither the king's mares and tethered them as I had seen. . . . They added that they were to return home on the morrow, and had I been one day later, I must have perished, because the inhabited part of the island was at a great distance, and it would have been impossible for me to go thither without a guide. "Next morning they returned with their mares to the capital of the island, took me with them, and presented me to the Maha-raja. He asked me who I was, and by what adventure I had come into his dominions. After I had satisfied him, he told me he was much concerned for my misfortune, and at the same time ordered that I should want nothing; which commands his officers were so generous and careful as to see exactly fulfilled. " Being a merchant, I frequented men of my own profes- sion, and particularly inquired for those who were strangers, that perchance I might hear news from Bagdad, or find an opportunity to return. For the Maha-raja's capital is situ- ated on the sea-coast, and has a fine harbor, where ships arrive daily from the different quarters of the world. I frequented also the society of the learned Indians, and took delight to hear them converse; but withal, I took care to make my court regularly to the Maha-raja, and conversed with the governors and petty kings, his tributaries, that were about him. They put a thousand questions respecting my country; and I, being willing to inform myself as to their laws and customs, asked them concerning everything which I thought worth knowing. " There belongs to this king an island named Cassel. They assured me that every night a noise of drums was heard there, whence the mariners fancied that it was the residence of Degial. I determined to visit this wonderful place, and in my way thither saw fishes of one hundred and two THE HEABT OF OAK BOOKS. 15 hundred 'cubits long, that occasion more fear than hurt; for they are so timorous that they will fly upon the rattling of two sticks or boards. I saw, likewise, other fish about a cubit in length, that had heads like owls. "As I was one day at the port after my return, a ship arrived, and as soon as she cast anchor, they began to unload her, and the merchants on board ordered their goods to be carried into the custom-house. As I cast my eye upon some bales, and looked to the name, I found my own, and perceived the bales to be the same that I had embarked at Bussorah. I also knew the captain ; but being persuaded that he believed me to be drowned, I went and asked him whose bales these were? He replied that they belonged to a merchant at Bagdad, called Sinbad, who came to sea with him; but one day, being near an island, as was supposed, he went ashore, with several other passengers, upon this island, which was only a monstrous fish, that lay asleep upon the surface of the water; but as soon as he felt the heat of the fire they had kindled upon his back, to dress some victuals, he began to move, and dived under water. Most of the persons who were upon him perished, and among them the unfortunate Sinbad. 'These bales belonged to him,' he added, 'and I am resolved to trade with them until I meet with some of his family to whom I may return the profit.' *I am that Sinbad,' said I, 'whom you thought to be dead, and those bales are mine.' "When the captain heard me speak thus, 'Heavens!' he exclaimed, 'whom can we trust in these times? There is no faith left among men. I saw Sinbad perish with my own eyes, as did also the passengers on board, and yet you tell me you are that Sinbad. What impudence is this ? To look on you, one would take you to be a man of probity, and yet you tell a horrible falsehood, in order to possess yourself of what does not belong to you.' ^ Have patience,' replied I ; ^ do me 16 THE STOBY OF SINE AD THE SAILOR, the favor to hear what I have to say.' 'Very well/ said he, *speakj I am ready to hear you/ Then I told him how I had escaped, and by what adventure I met with the grooms of the Maha-raja, who had brought me to his court. "His confidence began to abate upon this declaration, and he was at length persuaded that I was no cheat; for there came people from his ship who knew me, paid me great compliments, and expressed much joy at seeing me alive. At last he recollected me himself, and embracing me, ' Heaven be praised,' said he, 'for your happy escape. I cannot express the joy it affords me ; there are your goods ; take and do with them as you please.' I thanked him, acknowledged his probity, and in requital offered him part of my goods as a present, which he generously refused. " I took what was most valuable in my bales, and presented them to the Maha-raja, who, knowing my misfortune, asked me how I came by such rarities. I acquainted him with the circumstance of their recovery. He was pleased at my good luck, accepted my present, and in return gave me one much more considerable. Upon this, I took leave of him, and went aboard the same ship, after I had exchanged my goods for the commodities of that country. I carried with me wood of aloes, sandal, camphire, nutmegs, cloves, pepper, and ginger. We passed by several islands, and at last arrived at Bussorah, from whence I came to this city with the value of one hundred thousand sequins. My family and I received one another with all the transports of sincere affection. I bought slaves of both sexes, and a landed estate, and built a magnificent house. Thus I settled myself, resolving to forget the miseries I had suffered, and to enjoy the pleasures of life." Sinbad stopped here, and ordered the musicians to proceed with their concert, which the story had interrupted. The THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 17 company continued enjoying themselves till the evening, and it was time to retire, when Sinbad sent for a purse of one hundred sequins, and giving it to the porter, said, "Take this, Hinbad, return to your home, and come back to-morrow to hear more of my adventures." The porter went away, astonished at the honor done, and the present made him. The account of this adventure proved very agreeable to his wife and children, who did not fail to return thanks to God for what Providence had sent them by the hand of Sinbad. Hinbad put on his best apparel next day, and returned to the bountiful traveller, who received him with a pleasant air, and welcomed him heartily. When all the guests had arrived, dinner was served, and continued a long time. When it was ended, Sinbad, addressing himself to the company, said, "Gentlemen, be pleased to listen to the adventures of my second voyage; they deserve your atten- tion even more than those of the first." Upon which every one held his peace, and Sinbad proceeded. THE SECOND VOYAGE. " I designed, after my first voyage, to spend the rest of my days at Bagdad, as I had the honor to tell you yesterday ; but it was not long ere I grew weary of an indolent life. My inclination to trade revived. I bougnt goods proper for the commerce I intended, and put to sea a second time with merchants of known probity. We embarked on board a good ship, and after recommending ourselves to God, set sail. We traded from island to island, and exchanged commodities with great profit. One day we landed in an island covered with several sorts of fruit-trees, but we could see neither man nor animal. We went to take a little fresh air in the meadows, along the streams that watered them. Whilst some diverted 18 THE 8T0UY OF SINE AD THE SAILOR, themselves with gathering flowers, and others, fruits, I took my wine and. provisions, and sat down near a stream betwixt two high trees, which formed a thick shade. I made a good meal, and afterwards fell asleep. I cannot tell how long I slept, but when I awoke the ship was gone. ... I got up and looked around me, but could not see one of the merchants who landed with me. I perceived the ship under sail, but at such a distance-, that I lost sight of her in a short time. " I leave you to guess at my melancholy reflections in this sad condition : I was ready to die with grief. I cried out in agony, beat my head and breast, and threw myself upon the ground, where I lay some time in despair, one afilicting thought being succeeded by another still more afflicting. I upbraided myself a hundred times for not being content with the produce of my first voyage, that might have sufficed me all my life. But all this was in vain, and my repentance too late. "At last I resigned myself to the will of God. Not knowing what to do, I climbed up to the top of a lofty tree, from whence I looked about on all sides, to see if I could discover anything that could give me hopes. When I gazed towards the sea I could see nothing but sky and water; but looking over the land I beheld something white ; and coming down, I took what provision I had left and went towards it, the distance being so great that I could not distinguish what it was. "As I approached, I thought it to be a white dome, of a prodigious height and extent; and when I came up to it, I touched it, and found it to be very smooth. I went round to see if it was open on any side, but saw it was not, and that there was no climbing up to the top as it was so smooth. It was, at least, fifty paces round. "By this time the sun was about to set, and all of a THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 19 sudden the sky became as dark as if it had been covered with a thick cloud. I was much astonished at this sudden dark- ness, but much more when I found it occasioned by a bird of a monstrous size, that came flying toward me. I remem- bered that I had often heard mariners speak of a miraculous bird called roc, and conceived that the great dome which I so much admired must be its egg. In short, the bird alighted, and sat over the egg. As I perceived her coming, I crept close to the egg, so that I had before me one of the legs of the bird, which was as big as the trunk of a tree. I tied myself strongly to it with my turban, in hopes that the roc, next morning, would carry me with her out of this desert island. " After having passed the night in this condition, the bird flew away as soon as it was daylight, and carried me so high, that I could not discern the earth; she afterwards descended with so much rapidity that I lost my senses. But when I found myself on the ground, I speedily untied the knot, and had scarcely done so, when the roc, having taken up a serpent of monstrous length in her bill, flew away. "The spot where it left me was encompassed on all sides by mountains, that seemed to reach above the clouds, and so steep that there was no possibility of getting out of the valley. This was a new perplexity : so that when I compared this place with the desert island from which the roc had brought me, I found that I had gained nothing by the change. "As I walked through this valley, I perceived it was strewed with diamonds, some of which were of a surprising bigness. I took pleasure in looking upon them; but shortly saw at a distance such objects as greatly diminished my satisfaction, and which I could not view Without terror, namely a great number of serpents, so monstrous that the least of them was capable of swallowing an elephant. They 20 THE STOUT OF SINE AD THE SAILOR, retired in the day-time to their dens, where they hid them- selves from the roc, their enemy, and came out only in the night. "I spent the day in walking about in the valley, resting myself, at times, in such places as I thought most convenient. When night came on, I went into a cave, where I thought I might repose in safety. I secured the entrance, which was low and narrow, with a great stone, to preserve me from the serpents; but not so far as to exclude the light. I supped on part of my provisions, but the serpents, which began hissing round me, put me into such extreme fear, that you may easily imagine I did not sleep. When day appeared, the serpents retired, and I came out of the cave trembling. I can justly say that I walked upon diamonds, without feeling any inclination to touch them. At last I sat down, and notwithstanding my apprehensions, not having closed my eyes during the night, fell asleep, after having eaten a little more of my provisions. But I had scarcely shut my eyes, when something that fell by me with a great noisa awaked me. This was a large piece of raw meat; and at the same time I saw several others fall down from the rocks in different places. "I had always regarded as fabulous what I had heard sailors and others relate of the valley of diamonds, and of the stratagems employed by merchants to obtain jewels from thence; but now I found that they had stated nothing but truth. For the fact is, that the merchants come to the neighborhood of this valley when the eagles have young ones, and throwing great joints of meat into the valley, the dia- monds, upon whose points they fall, stick to them; the eagles, which are stronger in this country than anywhere else, pounce with great force upon those pieces of meat, and carry them to their nests on the precipices of the rock, to feed their young: the merchants at this time run to their THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 21 nests, disturb and drive off the eagles by their shouts, and take away the diamonds that stick to the meat. "Until I perceived the device, I had concluded it to be impossible for me to get from this abyss, which I regarded as my grave; but now I changed my opinion, and began to think upon the means of my deliverance. I began to collect together the largest diamonds I could find, and put them into the leather bag in which I used to carry my provisions. I afterwards took the largest of the pieces of meat, tied it close round me with the cloth of my turban, and then laid myself upon the ground with my face downward, the bag of diamonds being made fast to my girdle. "I had scarcely placed myself in this posture when the eagles came. Each of them seized a piece of meat, and one of the strongest having taken me up, with the piece of meat to which I was fastened, carried me to his nest on the top of the mountain. The merchants immediately began their shouting to frighten the eagles ; and when they had obliged them to quit their prey, one of them came to the nest where I was. He was much alarmed when he saw me ; but recovering him- self, instead of inquiring how I came thither, began to quarrel with me, and asked why I stole his goods. ' You will treat me, ' replied I, ' with more civility, when you know me better. Do not be uneasy, I have diamonds enough for you and my- self, more than all the other merchants together. Whatever they have they owe to chance, but I selected for myself in the bottom of the valley those which you see in this bag. ' I had scarcely done speaking, when the other merchants came crowding about us, much astonished to see me; but they were much more surprised when I told them my story. Yet they did not so much admire my stratagem to effect my deliver- ance, as my courage in putting it into execution. " They conducted me to their encampment, and there haV- 22 THE STORY OF SIN BAD THE SAILOR. ing opened my bag, they were surprised at the largeness of my diamonds, and confessed, that in all the courts which they had visited they had never seen any of such size and perfec- tion. I prayed the merchant, who owned the nest to which I had been carried (for every merchant had his own), to take as many for his share as he pleased. He contented himself with one, and that too the least of them ; and when I pressed him to take more, without fear of doing me any injury, 'No,' said he, *I am very well satisfied with this, which is valuable enough to save me the trouble of making any more voyages, and will raise as great a fortune as I desire/ " I spent the night with the merchants, to whom I related my story a second time, for the satisfaction of those who had not heard it. I could not moderate my joy when I found myself delivered from the danger I have mentioned. I thought my- self in a dream, and could scarcely believe myself out of danger. "The merchants had thrown their pieces of meat into the valley for several days, and each of them being satisfied with the diamonds that had fallen to his lot, we left the next morning, and travelled near high mountains, where there were serpents of a prodigious length, which we had the good for- tune to escape. We took shipping at the first port we reached, and touched at the isle of Roha, where the trees grow that yield camphire. This tree is so large, and its branches so thick, that one hundred men may easily sit under its shade. The juice, of which the camphire is made, exudes from a hole bored in the upper part of the tree, is received in a vessel, where it thickens to a consistency, and becomes what we call camphire; after the juice is thus drawn out, the tree withers and dies. " In this island is also found the rhinoceros, an animal less than the elephant, but larger than the buffalo. It has a horn THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 23 upon its nose, about a cubit in length ; this horn is solid, and cleft through the middle ; upon this may be seen white lines, representing the figure of a man. The rhinoceros fights with the elephant, runs his horn into his belly, and carries him off upon his head ; but the blood and the fat of the elephant run- ning into his eyes, and making him blind, he falls to the ground; and then, strange to relate, the roc comes and carries them both away in her claws, for food for her young ones. " I pass over many other things peculiar to this island, lest I should be troublesome to you. Here I exchanged some of my diamonds for merchandise. From hence we went to other islands, and at last, having touched at several trading towns of the continent, we landed at Bussorah, from whence I pro- ceeded to Bagdad. There I immediately gave large presents to the poor, and lived honorably upon the vast riches I had brought, and gained with so much fatigue." Thus Sinbad ended the relation of the second voyage, gave Hinbad another hundred sequins, and invited him to come the next day to hear the account of the third. The rest of the guests returned to their homes, and came again the following day at the same hour, and one may be sure the porter did not fail, having by this time almost forgotten his former poverty. When dinner was over, Sinbad demanded attention, and gave 'ihem an account of his third voyage, as follows : THE THIRD VOYAGE. ''I soon lost in the pleasures of life the remembrance of the perils I had encountered in my two former voyages ; and being in the flower of my age, I grew weary of living without busi- ness, and hardening myself against the thought of any danger I might incur, went from Bagdad to Bussorah with the richest commodities of the country. There I embarked again with 24 TEE STORY OF SINE AD THE SAILOR, some merchants. We made a long voyage, and touched at several ports, where we carried on a considerable- trade. One day, being out in the main ocean, we were overtaken by a dreadful tempest, which drove us from our course. The tem- pest continued several days, and brought us before the port of an island, which the captain was very unwilling to enter ; but we were obliged to cast anchor. When we had furled our sails, the captain told us, that this, and some other neighbor- ing islands, were inhabited by hairy savages, who would speedily attack us; and, though they were but dwarfs, yet our misfortune was such, that we must make no resistance, for they were more in number than the locusts; and if we happened to kill one of them, they would all fall upon us and destroy us. "This account of the captain put the whole company into great consternation, and we soon found that what he had told us was but too true; an innumerable multitude of frightful savages, about two feet high, covered all over with red hair, came swimming towards us, and encompassed our ship. They spoke to us as they came near, but we understood not their language; they climbed up the sides of the ship with such agility as surprised us. We beheld all this with dread, but without daring to defend ourselves, or to divert them from their mischievous design. In short, they took down our sails, cut the cable, and hauling to the shore, made us all get out, and afterwards carried the ship into another island, from whence they had come. All voyagers carefully avoided the island where they left us, it being very dangerous to stay there, for a reason you shall presently hear; but we were forced to bear our affliction with patience. " We went forward into the island, where we gathered some fruits and herbs to prolong our lives as long as we could; but we expected nothing but death. As we advanced, we per- THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 25 ceived at a distance a vast pile of building, and made towards it. We found it to be a palace, elegantly built, and very lofty, with a gate of ebony of two leaves, which we forced open. We entered the court, where we saw before us a large apartment, with a porch, having on one side a heap of human bones, and on the other a vast number of roasting spits. We trembled at this spectacle, and being fatigued with travelling, fell to the ground, seized with deadly apprehension, and lay a long time motionless. " The sun set, and whilst we were in the lamentable condition I have described, the gate of the apartment opened with a loud crash, and there came out the horrible figure of a black man, as tall as a lofty palm-tree. He had but one eye, and that in the middle of his forehead, where it looked as red as a burn- ing coal. His fore-teeth were very long and sharp, and stood out of his mouth, which was as deep as that of a horse. His upper lip hung down upon his breast. His ears resembled those of an elephant, and covered his shoulders ; and his nails were as long and crooked as the talons of the greatest birds. At the sight of so frightful a giant, we became insensible, and lay like dead men. " At last we came to ourselves, and saw him sitting in the porch looking at us. When he had considered us well, he advanced towards us, and laying his hand upon me, took me up by the nape of my neck, and turned me round as a butcher would do a sheep's head. After having examined me, and per- ceiving me to be so lean that I had nothing but skin and bone, he let me go. He took up all the rest one by one, and viewed them in the same manner. The captain being the fattest, he held him with one hand, as I would do a sparrow, and thrust a spit through him; he then kindled a great fire, roasted, and ate him in his apartment for his supper. Hav- ing finished his repast, he returned to his porch, where he lay 26 THE STORY OF SINE AD THE SAILOR. and fell asleep, snoring louder than thunder. He slept thus till morning. As to ourselves, it was not possible for us to enjoy any rest, so that we passed the night in the most pain- ful apprehension that can be imagined. When day appeared the giant awoke, got up, went out, and left us in the palace. " When we thought him at a distance, we broke the melan- choly silence we had preserved the whole of the night, and filled the palace with our lamentations and groans. Though we were several in numbers, and had but one enemy, it never occurred to us to effect our deliverance by putting him to death. This enterprise, however, though difficult of execu- tion, was the only design we ought naturally to have formed. "We thought of several other expedients, but determined upon none ; and submitting ourselves to what it should please God to order concerning us, we spent the day in traversing the island, supporting ourselves with fruits and herbs as we had done the day before. In the evening we sought for some place of shelter, but found none; so that we were forced, whether we would or not, to return to the palace. " The giant failed not to return, and supped once more upon one of our companions, after which he slept, and snored till day, and then went out and left us as before. Our situation appeared to us so dreadful, that several . of my comrades designed to throw themselves into the sea, rather than die so painful a death; and endeavored to persuade the others to follow their example. Upon which one of the company answered that we were forbidden to destroy ourselves; but even if that were not the case, it was much more reasonable to devise some method to rid ourselves of the monster who had destined us to so horrible a fate. " Having thought of a project for this purpose, I communi- cated it to my comrades, who approved it. 'Brethren,' said I, 'you know there is much timber floating upon the coast; if THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 27 you will be advised by me, let us make several rafts capable of bearing us, and when they are done, leave them there till we find it convenient to use them. In the meantime, we will carry into execution the design I proposed to you for our deliverance from the giant, and if it succeed, we may remain here patiently awaiting the arrival of some ship to carry us out of this fatal island; but if it happen to miscarry, we will take to our rafts, and put to sea. I admit that by exposing ourselves to the fury of the waves, we run a risk of losing our lives; but is it not better to be buried in the sea than in the entrails of this monster, who has already devoured two of our number? ' My advice was approved, and we made rafts capa- ble of carrying three persons on each. "We returned to the palace towards the evening, and the giant arrived shortly after. We were forced to submit to see- ing another of our comrades roasted. But at last we revenged ourselves on the brutish giant in the following manner. After he had finished his cursed supper, he lay down on his back and fell asleep. As soon as we heard him snore, according to his custom, nine of the boldest among us, and myself, took each of us a spit, and putting the points of them into the fire till they were burning hot, we thrust them into his eye all at once, and blinded him. The pain made him break out into a frightful yell : he started up and stretched out his hands, in order to sacrifice some of us to his rage ; but we ran to such places as he could not reach ; and after having sought for us in vain, he groped for the gate, and went out, howling in agony. We quitted the palace after the giant and came to the shore, where we had left our rafts, and put them immediately to sea. We waited till day, in order to get upon them, in case the giant should come towards us with any guide of his own species^, but we hoped if he did not appear by sun-rising, and gave over his howling, which we still heard, that he would 28 THE STORY OF SINE AD THE 8AIL0B, prove to be dead; and if that happened to be the case, we resolved to stay in that island, and not to risk our lives upon the rafts ; but day had scarcely appeared, when we perceived our cruel enemy, accompanied with two others almost of the same size, leading him; and a great number more coming before him at a quick pace. " We did not hesitate to take to our rafts, and put to sea with all the speed we could. The giants, who perceived this, took up great stones, and running to the shore, entered the water up to the middle, and threw so exactly, that they sunk all the rafts but that I was upon ; and all my companions, except the two with me, were drowned. We rowed with all our might, and got out of the reach of the giants. But when we got out to sea, we were exposed to the mercy of the waves and winds, and tossed about, sometimes on one side, and sometimes on another, and spent that night and the following day under the most painful uncertainty as to our fate; but next morning we had the good fortune to be thrown upon an island, where we landed with much joy. We found excellent fruit, which afforded us great relief, and recruited our strength. "At night we went to sleep on the sea-shore; but were awakened by the noise of a serpent of surprising length and thickness, whose scales made a rustling noise as he wound himself along. It swallowed up one of my comrades, not- withstanding his loud cries, and the efforts he made to extri- cate himself from it; dashing him several times against the ground, it crushed him, and we could hear it gnaw and tear the poor wretch's bones, though we had fled to a considerable distance. The following day, to our great terror, we saw the serpent again, when I exclaimed, '0 Heaven, to what dangers are we exposed! We rejoiced yesterday at having escaped from the cruelty of a giant and the rage of the waves ; now are we fallen into another danger equally dreadful.' The Serpent came to the Foot of the Tr] Drawn by Ernest Fosbery. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 29 " As we walked about, we saw a large tall tree, upon which we designed to pass the following night, for our security j and having satisfied our hunger with fruit, we mounted it accordingly. Shortly after, the serpent came hissing to the foot of the tree ; raised itself up against the trunk of it, and meeting with my comrade, who sat lower than I, swallowed him at once and went off. " I remained upon the tree till it was day, and then came down, more like a dead man than one alive, expecting the same fate with my two companions. This filled me with horror, and I advanced some steps to throw myself into the sea; but the natural love of life prompting us to prolong it as long as we can, I withstood this dictate of despair, and sub- mitted myself to the will of God, who disposes of our lives at his pleasure. " In the meantime I collected together a great quantity of small wood, brambles, and dry thorns, and making them up into faggots, made a wide circle with them round the tree, and also tied some of them to the branches over my head. Having done this, when the evening came, I shut myself up within this circle, with the melancholy satisfaction, that I had neglected nothing which could preserve me from the cruel destiny with which I was threatened. The serpent failed not to come at the usual hour, and went round the tree, seeking for an opportunity to devour me, but was prevented by the rampart I had made; so that he lay till day, like a cat watch- ing in vain for a mouse that has fortunately reached a place of safety. When day appeared, he retired, but I dared not to leave my fort until the sun arose. " I felt so much fatigued by the labor to which it had put me, and suffered so much from his poisonous breath, that death seemed more eligible to me than the horrors of such a state. I came down from the tree, and, not thinking of the 30 THE STORY OF SINBAD THE SAILOR. resignation I had the preceding day resolved to exercise, I ran towards the sea, with a design to throw myself into it. But God took compassion on my hopeless state; for just as I was going to throw myself into the sea, I perceived a ship at a considerable distance. I called as loud as I could, and taking the linen from my turban, displayed it, that they might observe me. " This had the desired effect; the crew perceived me, and the captain sent his boat for me. As soon as I came on board, the merchants and seamen flocked about me, to know how I came into that desert island; and after I had related to them all that had befallen me, the oldest among them said to me they had several times heard of the giants that dwelt in that island, that they were cannibals, and ate men raw as well as roasted; and as to the serpents, they added, that there were abundance in the island, that hid themselves by day and came abroad by night. After having testified their joy at my escaping so many dangers, they brought me the best of their provisions; and the captain, see- ing that I was in rags, was so generous as to give me one of his own suits. We continued at sea for some time, touched at several islands, and at last, landed at that of Salabat, where sandal wood is obtained, which is of great use in medicine. We entered the port and came to anchor. The merchants began to unload their goods, in order to sell or exchange them. In the meantime, the captain came to me, and said, 'Brother, I have here some goods that belonged to a merchant who sailed some time on board this ship, and he being dead, I design to dispose of them for the benefit of his heirs, when I find who they are.' The bales he spoke of lay on the 'deck, and showing them to me, he said, 'There are the goods; I hope you will take. care to sell them, and you shall have factorage.' I thanked him for thus affording me an opportunity of employing myself, because I hated to be idle. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS, 31 " The clerk of the ship took an account of all the bales, with the names of the merchants to whom they belonged. And when he asked the captain in whose name he should enter those he had given me the charge of: *Enter them,' said the cap- tain, 'in the name of Sinbad/ I could not hear myself named without some emotion ; and looking steadfastly on the captain, I knew him to be the person who, in my second voyage, had left me in the island where I fell asleep, and sailed without me, or sending to see for me. But I could not recollect him at first, he was so much altered since I had seen him. " I was not surprised that he, believing me to be dead, did not recognize me. 'Captain,' said I, 'was the merchant's name, to whom these bales belonged, Sinbad? ' 'Yes, ' replied he, 'that was his name; he came from Bagdad, and embarked on board my ship at Bussorah. One day, when we landed at an island to take in water and other refreshments, I know not by what • mistake, I sailed without observing that he did not re-embark with us ; neither I nor the merchants perceived it till four hours after. We had the wind in our stern, and so fresh a gale, that it was not then possible for us to tack about for him.' 'You believe him then to be dead? ' said I. 'Cer- tainly,' answered he. 'No, captain,' I resumed, 'look at me, and you may know that I am Sinbad, whom you left in that desert island.' "The captain, having considered me attentively, recognized me. 'God be praised,' said he, embracing me, 'I rejoice that fortune has rectified my fault. There are your goods, which I always took care to preserve.' I took them from him, and made him the acknowledgments to which he was entitled. " From the isle of Salabat, we went to another where I fur- nished myself with cloves, cinnamon, and other spices. As we sailed from this island, we saw a tortoise twenty cubits in length and breadth. We observed also an amphibious animal 32 THE STORY OF SIN BAB THE SAILOR. like a cow, which gave milk; its skin is so hard that they usually make bucklers of it. I saw another, which had the shape and color of a camel. " In short, after a long voyage I arrived at Bussorah and from thence returned to Bagdad, with so much wealth that I knew not its extent. I gave a great deal to the poor, and bought another considerable estate in addition to what I had already." Thus Sinbad finished the history of his third voyage; gave another hundred sequins to Hinbad, invited him to dinner again the next day to hear the story of his fourth voyage. Hinbad and the company retired; and on the following day, when they returned, Sinbad after dinner continued the relation of his adventures. THE FOURTH VOYAGE. " The pleasures and amusements which I enjoyed after my third voyage had not charms sufficient to divert me from another. My passion for trade, and my love of novelty, again prevailed. I therefore settled my affairs, and having provided a stock of goods fit for the traffic I designed to engage in, I set out on my journey. I took the route of Persia, travelled over several provinces, and then arrived at a port, where I embarked. We hoisted our sails, and touched at several ports of the continent, and some of the eastern islands, and put out to sea: we were overtaken by such a sudden gust of wind, as obliged the captain to lower his yards, and take all other necessary precautions to prevent the danger that threatened us. But all was in vain; our endeavors had no effect, the sails were split in a thousand pieces, and the ship was stranded; several of the merchants and seamen were drowned, and the cargo was lost. " I had the good fortune, with several of the merchants and THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 33 mariners, to get upon some planks, and we were carried by the current to an island which lay before us. There we found fruit and spring water, which preserved our lives. We stayed all night near the place where we had been cast ashore, with- out consulting what we should do; our misfortune had so much dispirited us that we could not deliberate. "Next morning, as soon as the sun was up, we walked from the shore, and advancing into the island, saw some houses, which we approached. As soon as we drew near, we were encompassed by a great number of negroes, who seized us, shared us among them, and carried us to their respective habitations. " I, and five of my comrades, were carried to one place ; here they made us sit down, and gave us a certain herb, which they made signs to us to eat. My comrades not taking notice that the blacks ate none of it themselves, thought only of satisfy- ing their hunger, and ate with greediness. But I, suspecting some trick, would not so much as taste it, which happened well for me ; for in a little time after, I perceived my com- panions had lost their senses, and that when they spoke to me, they knew not what they said. " The negroes fed us afterwards with rice, prepared with oil of cocoa-nuts; and my comrades, who had lost their reason, ate of it greedily. I also partook of it, but very sparingly. They gave us that herb at first on purpose to deprive us of our senses, that we might not be aware of the sad destiny prepared for us ; and they supplied us with rice to fatten us ; for, being cannibals, their design was to eat us as soon as we grew fat. This accordingly happened, for they devoured my comrades, who were not sensible of their condition; but my senses being entire, you may easily guess that instead of growing fat, as the rest did, I grew leaner every day. The fear of death under which I labored, turned all my food into poison. I fell 34 THE STORY OF SIN BAD THE SAILOR. into a languishing distemper, which proved my safety ; for the negroes, having killed and eaten my companions, seeing me to be withered, lean, and sick, deferred my death. " Meanwhile I had much liberty, so that scarcely any notice was taken of what I did, and this gave me an opportunity one day to get at a distance from the houses, and to make my escape. An old man, who saw me, and suspected my design, called to me as loud as he could to return; but instead of obeying him, I redoubled my speed, and quickly got out of sight. At that time there was none but the old man about the houses, the rest being abroad, and not to return till night, which was usual with them. Therefore, being sure that they could not arrive time enough to pursue me, I went on till night, when I stopped to rest a little, and to eat some of the provisions I had secured; but I speedily set forward again, and travelled seven days, avoiding those places which seemed to be inhabited, and lived for the most part upon cocoa-nuts, which served me both for meat and drink. On the eighth day I came near the sea, and saw some white people like myself, gathering pepper, of which there was great plenty in that place. This I took to be a good omen, and went to them without any scruple. " They came to meet me as soon as they saw me, and asked me in Arabic who I was, and whence I came. I was over- joyed to hear them speak in my own language, and satisfied their curiosity, by giving them an account of my shipwreck, and how I fell into the hands of the negroes. 'Those negroes,' replied they, 'eat men, and by what miracle did you escape their cruelty? ' I related to them the circumstances I have just mentioned, at which they were wonderfully surprised. " I stayed with them till they had gathered their quantity of pepper, and then sailed with them to the island from whence they had come. They presented me to their king, who was THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 85 a good prince. He had the patience to hear the relation of my adventures, which surprised him; and he afterwards gave me clothes, and commanded care to be taken of me. "The island was very well peopled, plentiful in every- thing, and the capital a place of great trade. This agreeable retreat was very comfortable to me after my misfortunes, and the kindness of this generous prince completed my satisfac- tion. In a word, there was not a person more in favor with him than myself; and, consequently, every man in court and city sought to oblige me; so that in a very little time I was looked upon rather as a native than a stranger. " I observed one thing, which to me appeared very extraor- dinary. All the people, the king himself not excepted, rode their horses without bridle or stirrups. This made me one day take the liberty to ask the king how it came to pass. His majesty answered that I talked to him of things which nobody knew the use of in his dominions. " I went immediately to a workman, and gave him a model for making the stock of a saddle. When that was done, I covered it myself with velvet and leather, and embroidered it with gold. I afterwards went to a smith, who made me a bit, according to the pattern I showed him, and also some stirrups. When I had all things completed I presented them to the king, and put them upon one of his horses. His majesty mounted immediately, and was so pleased with them, that he testified his satisfaction by large presents. I could not avoid making several others for the ministers and principal officers of his household, who all of them made me presents that enriched me in a little time. I also made some for the people of best quality in the city, which gained me great reputation and regard. " As I paid my court very constantly to the king, he said to me one day, *Sinbad, I love thee: and all my subjects 36 THE STORY OF SIN BAD THE SAILOR. who know thee, treat thee according to my example. I have one thing to demand of thee, which thou must grant.' 'Sir,' answered I, ^ there is nothing but I will do, as a mark of obedience to your majesty, whose power over me is absolute. ' *I have a mind thou shouldst marry,' replied he, *that so thou mayst stay in my dominions, and think no more of thy own country.' I durst not resist the prince's will, and he gave me one of the ladies of his court, noble, 'beautiful, and rich. The ceremonies of marriage being over, I went and dwelt with my wife, and for some time we lived together in perfect harmony. I was not, however, satisfied with my banishment, therefore designed to make my escape the first opportunity, and to return to Bagdad; which my present settlement, how advantageous soever, could not make me forget. " At this time the wife of one of my neighbors, with whom I had contracted a very strict friendship, fell sick and died. I went to see and comfort him in his affliction, and finding him absorbed in sorrow, I said to him as soon as I saw him, *God preserve you, and grant you a long life.' *Alas,' replied he, *how do you think I should obtain the favor you wish me? I have not above an hour to live.' 'Pray,' said I, 'do not entertain such a melancholy thought; I hope I shall enjoy your company many years.' 'I wish you,' he replied, 'a long life; but my days are at an end, for I must be buried this day with my wife. This is a law which our ancestors established in this island, and it is always observed inviolably. The living husband is interred with the dead wife, and the living wife with the dead husband. Nothing can save me; every one must submit to this law.' While he was giving me an account of this barbarous custom, the very relation of which chilled my blood, his kindred, friends, and neighbors came in a body to assist at the funeral. They THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 37 dressed the corpse of the woman in her richest apparel and all her jewels, as if it had been her wedding day ; then they placed her on an open coffin, and began their march to the place of burial. The husband walked at the head of the company, and followed the corpse. They proceeded to a high mountain, and when they had reached the place of their destination, they took up a large stone, which covered the mouth of a deep pit, and let down the corpse with all its apparel and jewels. Then the husband, embracing his kin- dred and friends, suffered himself to be put into another open coffin, without resistance, with a pot of water and seven small loaves, and was let down in the same manner. The moun- tain was of considerable length, and extended along the sea-shore, and the pit was very deep. The ceremony being over, the aperture was again covered with the stone, and the company returned. "It is needless for me to tell you that I was a most melancholy spectator of this funeral, while the rest were scarcely moved, the custom was to them so familiar. I could not forbear communicating to the king my sentiment respect- ing the practice. ^Sir,' I said, 'I cannot but feel astonished at the strange usage observed in this country, of burying the living with the dead. I have been a great traveller, and seen many countries, but never heard of so cruel a law.' 'What do you mean, Sinbad?' replied the king; 'it is a common law. I shall be interred with the queen, my wife, if she die first.' ' But sir,' said I, 'may I presume to ask your majesty if strangers be obliged to observe this law? ' ' With- out doubt,' returned the king, smiling at the occasion of my question, 'they are not exempted, if they be married in this island. ' "I returned home much depressed by this answer; for the fear of my wife's dying first, and that I should be interred 38 THE STORY OF SIN BAD THE SAILOR, alive with her, occasioned me very uneasy reflections. But there was no remedy; I must have patience and submit to the will of God. I trembled, however, at every little indisposi- tion of my wife : alas ! in a little time my fears were realized, for she fell sick and died. "Judge my sorrow: to be interred alive seemed to me as deplorable a termination of life as to be devoured by canni- bals. It was necessary, however, to submit. The king and all his court expressed their wish to honor the funeral with their presence, and the most considerable people of the city did the same. When all was ready for the ceremony, the corpse was put into a coffin with all her jewels and her most magnificent apparel. The procession began, and as second actor in this doleful tragedy, I went next the corpse, with my eyes full of tears, bewailing my deplorable fate. Before we reached the mountain, I made an attempt to affect the minds of the spectators : I addressed myself to the king first, and then to all those that were round me; bowing before them to the earth, and kissing the border of their garments, I prayed them to have compassion upon me. ^Consider,' said I, ^ that I am a stranger, and ought not to be subject to this rigorous law, and that I have another wife and children in my own country.' Although I spoke in the most pathetic manner, no one was moved by my address; on the contrary, they ridiculed my dread of death as cowardly, made haste to let my wife's corpse into the pit, and lowered me down the next moment in an open coffin, with a vessel full of water and seven loaves. In short, the fatal ceremony being performed, they covered over the mouth of the pit, notwithstanding my grief and piteous lamentations. "As I approached the bottom, I discovered by the aid of the little light that came from above, the nature of this subterranean place; it seemed an endless cavern, and might THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 39 be about fifty fathom deep. I was annoyed by an insuffer- able stench, proceeding from the multitude of bodies which I saw on the right and left; nay, I fancied that I heard some of them sigh out their last. However, when I got down, I immediately left my coffin, and getting at a distance from the bodies, held my nose, and lay down upon the ground, where I stayed a considerable time, bathed in tears. At last, reflecting on my melancholy case, 'It is true,' said I, 'that God disposes all things according to the decrees of his provi- dence; but unhappy Sinbad, hast thou any but thyself to blame that thou art brought to die so strange a death? Would to God thou hadst perished in some of those tempests which thou hast escaped! Then thy death had not been so lingering, and so terrible in all its circumstances. But thou hast drawn all this upon thyself by thy inordinate avarice. Ah, unfortunate wretch! shouldst thou not rather have remained at home, and quietly enjoyed the fruits of thy labor? ' "Such were the vain complaints with which I filled the cave, beating my head and breast out of rage and despair, and abandoning myself to the most afflicting thoughts. Never- theless, I must tell you, that instead of calling death to my assistance in that miserable condition, I felt still, an inclina- tion to live, and to do all I could to prolong my days. I went groping about, with my nose stopped, for the bread and water that was in my coffin, and took some of it. Though the darkness of the cave was so great that I could not distin- guish day and night, yet I always found my coffin again, and the cave seemed to be more spacious and fuller of bodies than it had appeared to be at first. I lived for some days upon my bread and water, which being all spent, I at last prepared for death. "As I was thinking of death, I heard, not far from me, 40 THE STORY OF 3INBAD THE SAILOR. something tread, and breathing or panting as it walked. 1 advanced towards that side from whence I heard the noise, and on my approach the creature puffed and blew harder, as if running away from me. I followed the noise, and the thing seemed to stop sometimes, but always fled and blew as I approached. I pursued it for a considerable time, till at last I perceived a light, resembling a star; I went on, some- times lost sight of it, but always found it again, and at last discovered that it came through a hole in the rock, large enough to admit a man. "Upon this, I stopped some time to rest, being much fatigued with the rapidity of my progress : afterwards coming up to the hole, I got through, and found myself upon the sea-shore. I leave you to guess the excess of my joy : it was such, that I could scarcely persuade myself that the whole was not a dream. "But when I was recovered from my surprise, and con- vinced of the reality of my escape, I perceived what I had followed to be a creature which came out of the sea, and was accustomed to enter the cavern and feed upon the bodies of the dead. "I examined the mountain, and found it to be situated betwixt the sea and the town, but without any passage to, or communication with, the latter, the rocks on the seaside being high and perpendicularly steep. I prostrated myself on the shore to thank God for this mercy, and afterwards entered the cave again to fetch bread and water, which I ate by daylight with a better appetite than I had done since my interment in the dark cavern. "I returned thither a second time, and groped among the coffins for all the diamonds, rubies, pearls, gold bracelets, and rich stuffs I could find; these I brought to the shore, and tying them up neatly into bales, with the cords that let THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 41 down the coffins, I laid them together upon the beach, waiting till some ship might appear, without fear of rain, for it was then the dry season. ^' After two or three days, I perceived a ship just coming out of the harbor, making for the place where I was. I made a sign with the linen of my turban, and called to the crew as loud as I could. They heard me, and sent a boat to bring me on board, where they asked by what misfortune I came thither ; I told them that I had suffered shipwreck two days before, and made shift to get ashore with the goods they saw. It was fortunate for me that these people did not consider the place where I was, nor inquire into the proba- bility of what I told them ; but without hesitation took me on board with my goods. When I came to the ship, the captain was so well pleased to have saved me, and so much taken up with his own affairs, that he also took the story of my pretended shipwreck upon trust, and generously refused some jewels which I offered him. We put to sea again, and touched at several other ports ; at last I arrived happily at Bagdad with infinite riches, of which it is needless to trouble you with the detail.'' Here Sinbad finished the relation of his fourth voyage, and made a new present of one hundred sequins to Hinbad, whom he requested to return with the rest next day at the same hour to dine with him, and heai: the story of his fifth voyage. Hin- bad and the other guests took their leave and retired. Next morning, when they all met, they sat down at table, and when dinner was over, Sinbad began the relation of his fifth voyage, as follows : THE FIFTH VOYAGE. "The pleasures I enjoyed had again charms enough to make me forget all the troubles and calamities I had undergone, but could not cure me of my inclination to make new voyages. I therefore bought goods, departed with them for the best 42 THE STORY OF SIN BAD THE SAILOR. seaport, and there, that I might not be obliged to depend upon a captain, but have a ship at my own command, I remained till one was built on purpose, at my own charge. When the ship was ready, I went on board with my goods: but not having enough to load her, I agreed to take with me several merchants of different nations with their merchandise. " We sailed with the first fair wind, and after a long navi- gation, the first place we touched at was a desert island, where we found an egg of a roc, equal in size to that I formerly mentioned. There was a young roc in it, just ready to be hatched, and its bill had begun to appear. " The merchants whom I had taken on board, and who landed with me, broke the egg with hatchets, and made a hole in it, pulled out the young roc piecemeal, and roasted it. I had earnestly entreated them not to meddle with the egg, but they would not listen to me. "Scarcely had they finished their repast, when there appeared in the air, at a considerable distance from us, two great clouds. The captain whom I had hired to navigate my ship, knowing by experience what they meant, said they were the male and female roc that belonged to the young one, and pressed us to re-embark with all speed, to prevent the misfortune which he saw would otherwise befall us. We hastened on board and set sail with all possible expedition. " In the meantime, the two rocs approached, with a frightful noise, which they redoubled when they saw the egg broken, and their young one gone. They flew back in the direction they had come, and disappeared for some time, while we made all the sail we could to endeavor to prevent that which unhappily befell us. "They soon returned, and we observed that each of them carried between its talons stones, or rather rocks, of a mon- strous size. When they came directly over my ship they THE UEART OF OAK BOOKS. 43 hovered, and one of them let fall a stone, but by the dex- terity of the steersman it missed us, and falling into the sea, divided the water so that we could almost see the bottom. The other roc, to our misfortune, threw his massy burden so exactly into the middle of the ship as to split it into a thousand pieces. The mariners and passengers were all crushed to death, or sunk. I myself was of the number of the latter, but as I came up again, I fortunately caught hold of a piece of the wreck, and swimming sometimes with one hand, and sometimes with the other, but always holding fast my board, the wind and the tide favoring me, I came to an island whose shore was very steep. I overcame that diffi- culty, however, and got ashore. ''I sat down upon the grass, to recover myself from my fatigue, after which I went into the island to explore it. It seemed to be a delicious garden. I found trees everywhere, some of them bearing green, and others ripe fruits, and streams of fresh, pure water running in pleasant meanders. I ate of the fruits, which I found excellent; and drank of the water, which was very light and good. "When night closed in, I lay down upon the grass in a convenient spot, but I could not sleep an hour at a time, my mind being apprehensive of danger. I spent the best part of the night in alarm, and reproached myself for my impru- dence in not remaining at home, rather than undertaking this last voyage. These reflections carried me so far that I began to form a design against my life; but daylight dispersed these melancholy thoughts. I got up, and walked among the trees, but not without some fears. "When I was a little advanced into the island, I saw an old man, who appeared very weak and infirm. He was sitting on the bank of a stream, and at first I took him to be one who had been shipwrecked like myself. I went 44 THE STORY OF SINBAD THE SAILOB. towards him and saluted him, but he only slightly bowed his head. I asked him why he sat so still, but instead of answering me, he made a sign for me to take him upon my back, and carry him over the brook, signifying that it was to gather fruit. "I believed him really to stand in need of my assistance, took him upon my back, and having carried him over, bade him get down, and for that end stooped, that he might get off with ease; but instead of doing so (which I laugh at every time I think of it) the old man, who to me appeared quite decrepit, clasped his legs nimbly about my neck, when I perceived his skin to resemble that of a cow. He sat astride upon my shoulders, and held my throat so tight that I thought he would have strangled me, the apprehension of which made me swoon and fall down. "Notwithstanding my fainting, the ill-natured old fellow kept fast about my neck, but opened his legs a little to give me time to recover my breath. When I had done so, he thrust one of his feet against my stomach, and struck me so rudely on the side with the other, that he forced me to rise up against my will. Having arisen, he made me walk under the trees, and forced me now and then to stop to gather and eat fruit such as we found. He never left me all day, and when I lay down to rest at night, he laid himself down with me, holding always fast about my neck. Every morning he pushed me to make me awake, and afterwards obliged me to get up and walk, and pressed me with his feet. You may judge then, gentlemen, what trouble I was in, to be loaded with such a burden of which I could not get rid. "One day I found in my way several dry calabashes that had fallen from a tree. I took a large one, and after cleaning it, pressed into it some juice of grapes, which abounded in the island. Having filled the calabash, I put it by in a THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 45 convenient place, and going thither again some days after, I tasted it, and found the wine so good, that it soon made me forget my sorrow, gave me new vigor, and so exhilarated my spirits that I began to sing and dance as I walked along. "The old man, perceiving the effect which this liquor had upon me, and that I carried him with more ease than before, made me a sign to give him some of it. I handed him the calabash, and the liquor pleasing his palate, he drank it all off. There being a considerable quantity of it, he became drunk immediately, and the fumes getting into his head, he began to sing after his manner, and to dance with his breech upon my shoulders. His jolting made him vomit, and he loosened his legs from about me by degrees. Finding that he did not press as before, I threw him on the ground, where he lay without motion; I then took up a great stone, and crushed his head to pieces. "I was extremely glad to be thus freed forever from this troublesome fellow. I now walked towards the beach, where I met the crew of a ship that had cast anchor to take water. They were surprised to see me, but more so at the particulars of my adventures. 'You fell,' said they, 'into the hands of the old man of the sea, and are the first who ever escaped strangling by his malicious tricks. He never quitted those he had once made himself master of, till he had destroyed them, and he has made this island notorious by the number of men he has slain; so that the merchants and mariners who landed upon it, durst not advance into the island but in numbers at a time.' "After having informed me of these things, they carried me with them to the ship; the captain received me with great kindness when they told him what had befallen me. He put out again to sea, and after some days' sail, we arrived 46 THE STORY OF SINE AD THE SAILOR. at the harbor of a great city, the houses of wliich were built with hewn stone. " One of the merchants who had taken me into his friend- ship, invited me to go along with him, and carried me to a place appointed for the accommodation of foreign merchants. He gave me a large bag, and having recommended me to some people of the town, who used to gather cocoa-nuts, desired them to take me with them. 'Go,' said he, 'follow them, and act as you see them do, but do not part from them, otherwise you may endanger your life. ' Having thus spoken, he gave me provisions for the journey, and I went with them. " We came to a thick forest of cocoa-trees, very lofty, with trunks so smooth that it was not possible to climb to the branches that bore fruit. When we entered the forest we saw a great number of apes of several sizes, who fled as soon as they perceived us, and climbed up to the top of the trees with surprising swiftness. "The merchants gathered stones, and threw them at the apes in the trees. I did the same, and the apes out of revenge threw cocoa-nuts at us so fast, and with such ges- tures, as sufficiently testified their anger and resentment. We gathered up the cocoa-nuts, and from time to time threw stones to provoke the apes; so that by this stratagem we filled our bags with cocoa-nuts, which it had been impossible otherwise to have done. "When we had gathered our number, we returned to the city, where the merchant, who had sent me to the forest, gave me the value of the cocoas I brought: -Go on,' said he, 'and do the like every day, until you have got money enough to carry you home.' I thanked him for his advice, and gradually collected as many cocoa-nuts as produced me a considerable sum. "The vessel in which I had come sailed with some mer- THE HEABT OF OAK BOOKS. 47 chants, who loaded her with cocoa-nuts. I expected the arrival of another, which anchored soon after for the like loading. I embarked in her all the cocoa-nuts I had, and. when she was ready to sail, took leave of the merchant who had been so kind to me ; but he could not embark with me, because he had not finished his business at the port. " We sailed towards the islands where pepper grows in great plenty. From thence we went to the isle of Comari, where the best species of wood of aloes grows, and whose inhabitants have made it an inviolable law to themselves to drink no wine, and suffer no place of debauch. I exchanged my cocoa in those two islands for pepper and wood of aloes, and went with other merchants a pearl fishing. I hired divers, who brought me up some that were very large and pure. I em- barked in a vessel that happily arrived at Bussorah; from thence I returned to Bagdad, where I made vast sums of my pepper, wood of aloes, and pearls. I gave the tenth of my gains in alms, as I had done upon my return from my other voyages, and endeavored to dissipate my fatigues by amuse- ments of different kinds." When Sinbad had finished his story, he ordered one hun- dred sequins to be given to Hinbad, who retired with the other guests ; but next morning the same company returned to dine with rich Sinbad, who, after having treated them as formerly, requested their attention, and gave the following account of his sixth voyage : THE SIXTH VOYAGE. "Gentlemen, you long without doubt to know, how, after having been shipwrecked five times, and escaped so many dangers, I could resolve again to tempt fortune, and expose myself to new hardships. I am, myself, astonished at my 48 THE STOBT OF SIN BAD THE SAILOR. conduct when I reflect upon it, and must certainly have been actuated by my destiny. But be that as it may, after a year's rest I prepared for a sixth voyage, notwithstanding the en- treaties of my kindred and friends, who did all in their power to dissuade me. " Instead of taking my way by the Persian gulf, I travelled once more through several provinces of Persia and the Indies, and arrived at a sea-port, where I embarked in a ship, the captain of which was bound on a long voyage. It was long indeed, and at the same time so unfortunate, that the captain and pilot lost their course. They however at last discovered where they were, but we had no reason to rejoice at the circumstance. Suddenly we saw the captain quit his post, uttering loud lamentations. He threw off his turban, pulled his beard, and beat his head like a madman. We asked him the reason, and he answered that he was in the most danger- ous place in all the ocean. *A rapid current carries the ship along with it, and we shall all perish in less than a quarter of an hour. Pray to God to deliver us from this peril; we can- not escape, if he do not take pity on us.' At these words he ordered the sails to be lowered; but all the ropes broke, and the ship was carried by the current to the foot of an inaccessi- ble mountain, where she struck and went to pieces, yet in such a manner that we saved our lives, our provisions, and the best of our goods. "This being over, the captain said to us, *God has done what pleased him. Each of us may dig his grave, and bid the world adieu ; for we are all in so fatal a place that none shipwrecked here ever returned to their homes.' His dis- course ajfflicted us sensibly, and we embraced each other, bewailing our deplorable lot. "The mountain, at the foot of which we were wrecked, formed part of the coast of a very large island. It was covered THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 49 with wrecks, and from the vast number of human bones we saw everywhere, and which filled us with horror, we concluded that multitudes of people had perished there. It is also incredible Avhat a quantity of goods and riches we found cast ashore. All these objects served only to augment our despair. In all other places, rivers run from their channels into the sea, but here a river of fresh water runs out of the sea into a dark cavern, whose entrance is very high and spacious. What is most remarkable in this place is, that the stones of the mountains are of crystal, rubies, or other precious stones. Here is also a sort of fountain of pitch or bitumen, that runs into the sea, which the fish swallow and void soon afterwards turned into ambergris; and this the waves throw up on the beach in great quantities. Trees also grow here, most of which are wood of aloes, equal in goodness to those of Comari. " To finish the description of this place, which may well be called a gulf, since nothing ever returns from it, it is not possible for ships to get off when once they approach within a certain distance. If they be driven thither by a wind from the sea, the wind and the current impel them; and if they come into it when a land-wind blows, which might seem to favor their getting out again, the height of the mountain stops the wind, and occasions a calm, so that the force of the cur- rent carries them ashore ; and what completes the misfortune is, that there is no possibility of ascending the mountain, or of escaping by sea. "We continued upon the shore in a state of despair, and expected death every day. At first we divided our provisions as equally as we could, and thus every one lived a longer or shorter time, according to his temperance, and the use he made of his provisions. " Those who died first were interred by the survivors, and I paid the last duty to all my companions ; nor are you to won- 60 THE STORY OF SINBAB THE SAILOR, der at this; for besides that I husbanded the provisions that fell to my share better than they, I had some of my own, which I did not share with my comrades ; yet when I buried the last, I had so little remaining, that I thought I could not long survive. I dug a grave, resolving to lie down in it, because there was no one left to inter me. I must confess to you at the same time, that while I was thus employed, I could not but reproach myself as the cause of my own ruin, and repented that I had ever undertaken this last voyage. Nor did I stop at reflections only, but had well-nigh hastened my own death, and began to tear my hands with my teeth. " But it pleased God once more to take compassion on me, and put it in my mind to go to the bank of the river which ran into the great cavern. Considering its probable course with great attention, I said to myself, 'This river, which runs thus under ground, must somewhere have an issue. If I make a raft, and leave myself to the current, it will convey me to some inhabited country, or I shall perish. If I be drowned I lose nothing, but only change one kind of death for another; and if I get out of this fatal place, I shall not only avoid the sad fate of my comrades, but perhaps find some new occasion of enriching myself. Who knows but fortune waits, upon my getting off this dangerous shelf, to compensate my ship- wreck with usury ? ' " I immediately went to work upon large pieces of timber and cables, for I had choice of them, and tied them together so strongly that I soon made a very solid raft. When I had finished I loaded it with some bulses of rubies, emeralds, ambergris, rock-crystal, and bales of rich stuffs. Having balanced my cargo exactly, and fastened it well to the raft, I went on board with two oars that I had made, and leaving it to the course of the river, resigned myself to the will of God. "As soon as I entered the cavern, I lost all light, and the " As SOON AS I ENTERED THE CAVERN I LOST AlL LiGHT. Drawn by Ernest Fosbery. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 51 stream carried me I knew not whither. Thus I floated some days in perfect darkness, and once found the arch so low that it very nearly touched my head, which made me cautious afterwards to avoid the like danger. All this while I ate nothing but what was just necessary to support nature; yet, notwithstanding my frugality all my provisions were spent. Then a pleasing stupor seized upon me. I cannot tell how long it continued; but when I revived I was surprised to find myself ._ an extensive plain on the brink of a river, where my raft was tied, amidst a great number of negroes. I got up as soon as I saw them, and saluted them. They spoke to me, but I did not understand their language. I was so trans- ported with joy that I knew not whether I was asleep or awake ; bat being persuaded that I was not asleep, I recited the following words in Arabic aloud: 'Call upon the Almighty, he will help thee ; thou needest not perplex thyself about any- thing else ; shut thy eyes, and while thou art asleep, God will change thy bad fortune into good. ' ''One of the blacks who understood Arabic, hearing me speak thus, came towards me, and said, 'Brother, be not sur- prised to see us ; we are inhabitants of this country, and came hither to-day to water our fields by digging little canals from this river, which comes out of the neighboring mountain. We observed something floating upon the water, went to see what it was, and, perceiving your raft, one of us swam into the river, and brought it thither, where we fastened it, as you see, until you should awake. Pray tell us your history, for it must be extraordinary; how did you venture yourself into this river, and whence did you come? ' I begged of them first to give me something to eat, and then I would satisfy their curi- osity. They gave me several sorts of food, and when I had satisfied my hunger, I related all that had befallen me, which they listened to with attentive surprise. As soon as I had 52 THE STORY OF SINE AD THE SAILOR. finished, they told me, by the person who spoke Arabic and interpreted to them what I said, that it was one of the most wonderful stories they had ever heard, and that I must go along with them, and tell it their king myself; it being too extraordinary to be related by any other than the person to whom the events had happened. I assured them that I was ready to do whatever they pleased. " They immediately sent for a horse, which was brought in a little time ; and having helped me to mount, some of them walked before to show the way, while the rest took my raft and cargo and followed. " We marched till we came to the capital of Serendib, for it was in that island I had landed. The blacks presented me to their king; I approached his throne, and saluted him as I used to do the kings of the Indies; that is to say, I prostrated myself at his feet. The prince ordered me to rise, received me with an obliging air, and made me sit down near him. He asked me my ,name, and I answered, * People call me Sinbad the sailor, because of the many voyages I have under- taken, and I am a citizen of Bagdad.' ^But,' resumed he, *how came you into my dominions, and from whence came you last ? ' "I concealed nothing from the king; I related to him all that I have told you, and his majesty was so surprised and pleased, that he commanded my adventures to be written in letters of gold and laid up in the archives of his kingdom. At last my raft was brought in, and the bales opened in his presence; he admired the quantity of wood of aloes and ambergris ; but, above all, the rubies and emeralds, for he had none in his treasury that equalled them. " Observing that he looked on my jewels with pleasure, and viewed the most remarkable among them one after another, I fell prostrate at his feet, and took the liberty to say to him, THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 53 'Sir, not only my person is at your majesty's service, but the cargo of the raft, and I would beg of you to dispose of it as your own/ He answered me with a smile, 'Sinbad, I will take care not to covet anything of yours, or to take anything from you that God has given you ; far from lessening your wealth, I design to augment it, and will not let you quit my dominions without marks of my liberality.' All the answer I returned were prayers for the prosperity of that nobly minded prince, and commendations of his generosity and bounty. He charged one of his officers to take care of me ; and ordered people to serve me at his own expense. The officer was very faithful in the execution of his commission, and caused all the goods to be carried to the lodgings provided for me. " I went every day at a set hour to make my court to the king, and spent the rest of my time in viewing the city, and what was most worthy of notice. " The isle of Serendib is situated just under the equinoctial line ; so that the days and nights there are always of twelve hours each, and the island is eighty parasangs in length, and as many in breadth. " The capital stands at the end of a fine valley, in the mid- dle of the island, encompassed by mountains the highest in the world. They are seen three days' sail off at sea. Rubies and several sorts of minerals abound, and the rocks are for the most part composed of a metalline stone made use of to cut and polish other precious stones. All kinds of rare plants and trees grow there, especially cedars and cocoa-nut. There is, also, pearl-fishing in the mouth of its principal river; ana in some of its valleys are found diamonds. I made, by way of devotion, a pilgrimage to the place where Adam was confined after his banishment from Paradise, and had the curiosity to go to the top of the mountain. " When I returned to the city, I prayed the king to allow 54 THE STORY OF SINE AD THE SAILOR. me to return to my own country, and he granted me permis- sion in the most obliging and most honorable manner. He would needs force a rich present upon me; and when I went to take my leave of him, he gave me one much more consider- able, and, at the same time, charged me with a letter for the commander of the faithful, our sovereign, saying to me, 'I pray you give this present from me, and this letter to the caliph, and assure him of my friendship.' I took the present and letter in a very respectful manner, and promised his majesty punctually to execute the commission with which he was pleased to honor me. Before I embarked, this prince sent for the captain and the merchants who were to go with me, and ordered them to treat me with all possible respect. " The letter from the king of Serendib was written on the skin of a certain animal of great value, because of its being so scarce, and of a yellowish color. The characters of this letter were of azure, and the contents as follows : — " ' The King of the Indies, before whom march one hundred elephants, who lives in a palace that shines with one hundred thousand rubies, and who has in his treasury twenty thousand crowns enriched with diamonds, to Caliph Haroon al Rusheed. " 'Though the present we send you be inconsiderable, receive it, how- ever, as a brother and a friend, in consideration of the hearty friendship which we bear for you, and of which we are willing to give you proof. "V^e desire the same part in your friendship, considering that we believe it to be our merit, being of the same dignity with yourself. We con- jure you this in quality of a brother. Adieu.' " The present consisted first, of one single ruby made into a cup, about half a foot high, an inch thick, and filled with round pearls of half a drachm each; second, the skin of a ser- pent, whose scales were as large as an ordinary piece of gold, and had the virtue to preserve from sickness those who lay upon it; third, fifty thousand drachms of the best wood of THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 55 aloes, with thirty grains of camphire as big as pistachios; fourth, a female slave of ravishing beauty, whose apparel was all covered over with jewels. " The ship set sail, and after a very successful navigation, we landed at Bussorah, and from thence I went to Bagdad, where the first thing I did was to acquit myself of my commission. " I took the king of Serendib's letter, and went to present myself at the gate of the commander of the faithful, followed by the beautiful slave, and such of my own family as carried the presents. I stated the reason of my coming, and was immediately conducted to the throne of the caliph. I made my reverence, and, after a short speech, gave him the letter and present. When he had read what the king of Serendib wrote to him, he asked me, if that prince were really so rich and potent as he represented himself in his letter. I pros- trated myself a second time, and rising again, said, * Com- mander of the faithful, I can assure your majesty he doth not exceed the truth. I bear him witness. Nothing is more worthy of admiration than the magnificence of his palace. When the prince appears in public, he has a throne fixed on the back of an elephant, and marches betwixt two ranks of his ministers, favorites, and other people of his court; before him, upon the same elephant, an officer carries a golden lance in his hand; and behind the throne there is another, who stands upright, with a column of gold, on the top of which is an emerald half a foot long, and an inch thick; before him march a guard of one thousand men, clad in cloth of gold and silk, and mounted on elephants richly caparisoned. " ' While the king is on his march, the officer, who is before him on the same elephant, cries from time to time with a loud voice, " Behold the great monarch, the potent and redoubtable sultan of the Indies, whose palace is covered with one hundred S6 THE STORY OF SINE AD THE SAILOR. thousand rubies, and who possesses twenty thousand crowns of diamonds. Behold the monarch greater than Solomon^ and the powerful Maha-raja." After he has pronounced those words, the officer behind the throne cries in his turn, " This monarch, so great and so powerful, must die, must die, must die." And the officer before replies, "Praise be to him who lives forever." "'Farther, the king of Serendib is so just that there are no judges in his dominions. His people have no need of them. They understand and observe justice rigidly of themselves.' "The caliph was much pleased with my account. 'The wisdom of that king,' said he, 'appears in his letter, and after what you tell me, I must confess that his wisdom is worthy of his people, and his people deserve so wise a prince.' Having spoken thus, he dismissed me, and sent me home with a rich present." Sinbad left off, and his company retired, Hinbad having first received one hundred sequins; and next day they returned to hear the relation of his seventh and last voyage. THE SEVENTH AND LAST VOYAGE. "Being returned from my sixth voyage, I absolutely laid aside all thoughts of travelling; for, besides that my age now required rest, I was resolved no more to expose myself to such risks as I had encountered; so that I thought of nothing but to pass the rest of my days in tranquillity. One day as I was treating my friends, one of my servants came and told me that an officer of the caliph's inquired for me. I rose from my table and went to him. ' The caliph,' said he, ' has sent me to tell you, that he must speak with you.' I fol- lowed the officer to the palace where being presented to the caliph, I saluted him by prostrating myself at his feet. ' Sin- THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 57 bad/ said he to me, 'I stand in need of your service; you must carry my answer and present to the king of Serendib. It is but just I should return his civility.' "This command of the caliph was to me like a clap of thunder. 'Commander of the faithful/ I replied, 'I am ready to do whatever your majesty shall think fit to command; but I beseech you most humbly to consider what I have undergone. I have also made a vow never to go out of Bagdad.' Hence I took occasion to give him a full and particular account of all my adventures, which he had the patience to hear out. "As soon as I had finished, 'I confess,' said he, *that the things you tell me are very extraordinary, yet you must, for my sake, undertake this voyage which I propose to you. You will only have to go to the isle of Serendib, and deliver the commission which I give you. After that you are at liberty to return. But you must go; for you know it would not comport with my dignity to be indebted to the king of that island.' Perceiving that the caliph insisted upon my com- pliance, I submitted, and told him that I was willing to obey. He was very well pleased, and ordered me one thousand sequins for the expenses of my journey. " I prepared for my departure in a few days, and as soon as the caliph's letter and present were delivered to me, I went to Bussorah, where I embarked, and had a very happy voyage. Having arrived at the isle of Serendib, I acquainted the king's ministers with my commission, and prayed them to get me speedy audience. They did so, and I was conducted to the palace in an honorable manner, where I saluted the king by prostration, according to custom. That prince knew me immediately, and testified very great joy at seeing me. 'Sin- bad,' said he, 'you are welcome; I have many times thought of you since you departed; I bless the day on which we see one another once more.' I made my compliment to him, and 58 TEE STOBY OF SIN BAD THE SAILOB. after having thanked him for his kindness, delivered the caliph's letter and present, which he received with all imaginable satisfaction. " The caliph's present was a complete suit of cloth of gold, valued at one thousand sequins; fifty robes of rich stuif, a hundred of white cloth, the finest of Cairo, Suez, and Alexan- dria; a vessel of agate, broader than deep, an inch thick, and half a foot wide, the bottom of which represented in bas-relief a man with one knee on the ground, who held a bow and an arrow ready to discharge at a lion. He sent him also a rich tablet, which, according to tradition, belonged to the great Solomon. The caliph's letter was as follows: — " ' Greeting, in the name of the sovereign guide of the right way, from the dependant on God, Haroon al "Rusheed, whom God hath set in the place of vicegerent to his prophet, after his ancestors of happy memory, to the potent and esteemed Eaja of Serendib. " ' We received your letter with joy, and send you this from our im- perial residence, the Garden of Superior Wits. We hope when you look upon it, you will perceive our good intention and be pleased with it. " ' Adieu.' " The king of Serendib was highly gratified that the caliph answered his friendship. A little time after this audience, I solicited leave to depart, and had much difficulty to obtain it. I procured it, however, at last, and the king, when he dis- missed me, made me a very considerable present. I embarked immediately to return to Bagdad, but had not the good for- tune to arrive there so speedily as I had hoped. God ordered it otherwise. " Three or four days after my departure, we were attacked by corsairs, who easily seized upon our ship, because it was no vessel of force. Some of the crew offered resistance, which cost them their lives. But for myself and the rest, who were not so imprudent, the corsairs saved us on purpose THE HEABT OF OAK BOOKS, 59 to make slaves of us. We were all stripped, and instead of our own clothes the}^ gave us sorry rags, and carried us into a remote island, where they sold us. " I fell into the hands of a rich merchant, who, as soon as he bought me, carried me to his house, treated me well, and clad me handsomely for a slaved. Some days after, not know- ing who I was, he asked me if I understood any trade. I answered that I was no mechanic, but a merchant, and that the corsairs who sold me, had robbed me of all I possessed. * But tell me,' replied he, 'can you shoot with a bow?' I an- swered that the bow was one of my exercises in my youth. He gave me a bow and arrows, and, taking me behind him on an elephant, carried me to a thick forest some leagues from the town. We penetrated a great way into the wood, and when he thought fit to stop, he bade me alight ; then showing me a great tree, * Climb up that,' said he, 'and shoot at the ele- phants as you see them pass by, for there is a prodigious number of them in this forest, and if any of them fall, come and give me notice.' Having spoken thus, he left me victuals, and returned to the town, and I continued upon the tree all night. " I saw no elephant during that time, but next morning, as soon as the sun was up, I perceived a great number. I shot several arrows among them, and at last one of the elephants fell, when the rest retired immediately, and left me at liberty to go and acquaint my patron with my booty. When I had informed him, he gave me a good meal, commended my dex- terity, and caressed me highly. We went afterwards together to the forest, where we dug a hole for the elephant ; my patron designing to return when it was rotten, and take his teeth to trade with. " I continued this employment for two months, and killed an elephant every day, getting sometimes upon one tree, and 60 THE STORY OF SIN BAD THE SAILOB. sometimes upon another. One morning, as I looked for the elephants, I perceived with extreme amazement that instead of passing by me across the forest as usual, they stopped and came to me with a horrible noise, in such numbers that t?he plain was covered and shook under them. They encompassed the tree in which I was concealed, with their trunks extended, and all fixed their eyes upon me. At this alarming spectacle I continued immovable, and was so much terrified that my bow and arrows fell out of my hand. " My fears were not without cause ; for after the elephants had stared upon me some time, one of the largest of them put his trunk round the foot of the tree, plucked it up, and threw it on the ground; I fell with the tree, and the ele- phant, taking me up with his trunk, laid me on his back, where I sat more like one dead than alive, with my quiver on my shoulder. He put himself afterwards at the head of the rest, who followed him in troops, carried me a consider- able way, then laid me down on the ground, and retired with all his companions. Conceive, if you can, the condition I was in : I thought myself in a dream. After having lain some time, and seeing the elephants gone, I got up, and found I was upon a long and broad hill, almost covered with the bones and teeth of elephants. I confess to you, that this object furnished me with abundance of reflections. I admired the instinct of those animals; I doubted not but that was their burying-place, and that they carried me thither on purpose to tell me that I should forbear to persecute them, since I did it only for their teeth. I did not stay on the hill, but turned towards the city, and, after having travelled a day and a night, I came to my patron. I met no elephant in my way, which made me think they had retired farther into the forest, to leave me at liberty to come back to the hill without any obstacle. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 61 "As soon as my patron saw me; 'Ah, poor Sinbad/ exclaimed he, 'I was in great trouble to know what was become of you. I have been at the forest, where I found a tree newly pulled up, and a bow and arrows on the ground, and after having sought for you in vain, I despaired of ever seeing you more. Pray tell me what befell you, and by what good chance you are still alive.' I satisfied his curiosity, and going both of us next morning to the hill, he found to his great joy that what I had told him was true. We loaded the elephant which had carried us with as many teeth as he could bear, and when we were returned, 'Brother,' said my patron, 'for I will treat you no more as my slave, after having made such a discovery as will enrich me, God bless you with all happiness and prosperity. I declare before Him, that I give you your liberty. I concealed from you what I am now going to tell you. "'The elephants of our forest have, every year, killed us a great many slaves, whom we sent to seek ivory. For all the cautions we could give them, those crafty animals destroyed them one time or another. God has delivered you from their fury, and has bestowed that favor upon you only. It is a sign that he loves you, and has some use for your service in the world. You have procured me incredible wealth. Formerly we could not procure ivory but by expos- ing the lives of our slaves, and now our whole city is enriched by your means. Do not think I pretend to have rewarded you by giving you your liberty. I will also give you considerable riches. I could engage all our city to contrib- ute towards making your fortune, but I will have the glory of doing it myself.' " To this obliging declaration, I replied, ' Patron, God pre- serve you. Your giving me my liberty is enough to dis- charge what you owe me, and I desire no other reward for 6^ Till: STOBY OF SINBAD THE SAILOR. the service I had the good fortune to do to you and your city, but leave to return to my own country.' *Very well/ said he, Hhe monsoon will, in a little time, bring ships for ivory. I will then send you home, and give you wherewith to bear your charges.' I thanked him again for my liberty and his good intentions towards me. I stayed with him expecting the monsoon, and during that time, we made so many journeys to the hill, that we tilled all our warehouses with ivory. The other merchants who traded in it did the same, for it could not be long concealed from them. "The ships arrived at last, and my patron, himself having made choice of the ship wherein I was to embark, loaded half of it with ivory on my account, laid in provisions in abundance for my passage, and besides, obliged me to accept' a present of some curiosities of the country of great value. After I had returned him a thousand thanks for all his favors, I went aboard. We set sail, land as the adventure which procured me this liberty was very extraordinary, I had it continually in my thoughts. "We stopped at some islands to take in fresh provisions. Our vessel being come to a port on the mainland of the Indies, we touched there, and not being willing to venture by sea to Bussorah, I landed my proportion of the ivory, resolving to proceed on my journey by land. I made vast sums on my ivory, bought several rarities, which I intended for presents, and when my equipage was ready, set out in company with a large caravan of merchants. I was a long time on the way, and suffered much, but endured all with patience, when I considered that I had nothing to fear from the seas, from pirates, from serpents, or from the other perils to which I had been exposed. " All these fatigues ended at last, and I arrived safe at Bag- dad. I went immediately to wait upon the caliph, and gave THE IIEABT OF OAK BOOKS. 63 him an account of my embassy. That prince said he had been uneasy, as I was so long in returning, but that he always hoped God would preserve me. When I told him the adven- ture of the elephants, he seemed much surprised, and would never have given any credit to it had he not known my veracity. He deemed this story, and the other relations I had given him, to be so curious, that he ordered one of his secretaries to write them in characters of gold, and lay them up in his treasury. I retired well satisfied with the honors I received, and the presents which he gave me; and ever since I have devoted myself wholly to my family, kindred and friends." Sinbad here finished the relation of his seventh and last voyage, and then addressing himself to Hinbad, "Well, friend," said he, "did you ever hear of any person that suffered so much as I have done, or of any mortal that has gone through so many vicissitudes? Is it not reasonable that, after all this, I should enjoy a quiet and pleasant life?" As he said this, Hinbad drew near to him, and kissing his hand, said, "I must acknowledge, sir, that you have gone through many imminent dangers; my troubles are not com- parable to yours; if they afflict me for a time, I comfort myself with the thoughts of the profit I get by them. You not only deserve a quiet life, but are worthy of all the riches you enjoy, because you make of them such a good and gen- erous use. May you therefore continue to live in happiness and joy till the day of your death ! " Sinbad gave him one hundred sequins more, received him into the number of his friends, desired him to quit his porter's employment, and come and dine every day with him, that he might have reason to remember Sinbad the sailor. 64 THE DEATH OF KING ARTHUR. ; THE DEATH OF KING ARTHUR. From MoRfE d' Arthur. Sir TJiomas Malory. . . . And Sir Mordred and his party fled unto Canterbury. . . . And at the last, Sir Mordred was agreed to have Cornwall and Kent by King Arthur's days, and after the days of King Arthur, to have all England to his obeisance. So then were they condescended that King Arthur and Sir Mordred should meet between both their hosts, and each of them should bring fourteen persons. And they came with this word unto King Arthur. ^'And then," said he, "I am glad that this is done." And so he went into the field. And when King Arthur should depart, he warned all his host that, and they saw any sword drawn, " look that ye come on fiercely, and slay that traitor. Sir Mordred, for I in nowise trust him." In likewise Sir Mordred did warn his host that "if ye see any manner of sword drawn, look that ye come on fiercely, and so slay all that ever standeth before you ; for in nowise I will not trust for this treaty, for I know well that my father wiU be avenged upon me." And so they were agreed, and accorded thoroughly. Eight so came an adder out of a little heath bush, and stung a knight on the foot. And when the knight felt him stung, he looked down and saw the adder, and then he drew his sword to slay the adder, and thought of none other harm. And when the hosts on both parties saw that sword drawn, they blew trumpets and horns, and shouted grimly. And so both hosts dressed them together, and King Arthur took his horse, and said, " Alas I this unhappy day : " and so he THE HEART OF OAK ^OOES. 65 rode to his post. And so Sir Mordred did in like wise, and never was there seen a dolefuller battle in Christian land. . . . And ever they fought still till it was nigh night, and by that time was there an hundred thousand laid dead upon the down. Then was King Arthur wroth out of measure, when he saw his people so slain from him. Then the King looked about him, and then was he ware that of all his host, and of all his good knights, were left no more alive but two knights : that were Sir Lucan, the butler, and Sir Bedivere, his brother, and they were right sore wounded. " Jesu mercy," said King Arthur ; " where are all my noble knights become? Alas! that ever I should see this doleful day : for now," said King Arthur ; " I am come unto mine end. But would to God that I wist where that traitor. Sir Mordred, is, which hath caused all this mischief!" Then was King Arthur ware where Sir Mordred leaned upon his sword, among a heap of dead men. "Now give me my spear," said King Arthur to Sir Lucan, "for yonder I have espied the traitor which hath wrought all this woe." . . . And when Sir Mordred heard King Arthur, he ran unto him with his sword drawn in his hand, and there King Arthur smote Sir Mordred under the shield with a foin of his spear, throughout the body more than a fathom. And when Sir Mor- dred felt that he had his death wound, he thrust himself with all the might that he had up to the end of King Arthur's spear and right so he smote his father Arthur with his sword, that he held in both his hands, on the side of the head, that the sword pierced the helmet and the brain-pan. And therewith Sir Mordred fell down stark dead to the earth, and the noble King Arthur fell in a swoon to the earth, and there he swooned oftentimes. And Sir Lucan and Sir Bedivere oftentimes heaved him up, and so weakly they led him between them both unto a little chapel, not far from the seaside. 66 THE DEATH OF KING ABTHUR. Then Sir Lucan took up King Arthur on the one part, and Sir Bedivere on the other part, and in the lifting the King swooned. And Sir Lucan fell in a swoon with that lift, and therewith the noble knight's heart burst. And when King Arthur came to himself again, he beheld Sir Lucan how he lay dead. " Alas ! " said King Arthur, " this is unto me a full heavy sight, for to see this noble duke so to die for my sake; for he would have holpen me, that had more need of help than I have. Alas! he would not complain him, his heart was so set for to help me. Now, Jesu, have mercy upon his soul." Then Sir Bedivere wept for the death of his brother. "Leave this weeping and mourning," said King Arthur, '/ for all this will not avail me ; for wit thou well and I might live myself, the death of Sir Lucan would grieve me evermore. But my time hieth fast," said King Arthur unto Sir Bedivere^ "therefore take thou Excalibur, my good sword, and go with it unto yonder water-side; and when thou comest there, I charge thee, throw my sword into that water, and come again and tell me what thou shalt see there." "My lord," said Sir Bedivere, "your command shall be done, and lightly bring you word again." And so Sir Bedivere departed, and by the way he behel(J that noble sword, where the pommel and the haft were all of precious stones. . And then he said to himself, "If I throw this rich sword into the water, thereof shall never come good> but harm and loss." And then Sir Bedivere hid Excalibur under a tree, and so as soon as he might, he came again unto King Arthur, and said he had been at the water, and had thrown the sword into the water. " What sawest thou there ? " said the King. " Sir," said he, " I saw nothing but waves and wind." "That is untruly said of thee," said King Arthur, "therefore go thou lightly and do my command, as thou art to me lief and dear, spare not but throw it in." TBE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 67 Then Sir Bedivere returned again, and took the sword in his hand ; and then him thought it sin and shame to throw away that noble sword : and so again he hid the sword, and returned again, and told to the King that he had been at the water and done his command. "What saw ye there?" said the King. "Sir," said he, "I saw nothing but the water leap and the waves wan." "Ah! traitor, untrue," said King Arthur, "now hast thou betrayed me two times, who would have weened that thou that hast been unto me so self and dear, and thou art named a noble knight, and wouldest betray me for the rich sword. But now go again lightly, for thy long tarrying putteth me in great jeopardy of my life, for I have taken cold; and but if thou do as I command thee, and if ever I may see thee, I shall slay thee with mine own hands, for thou wouldest for my rich sword see me dead." Then Sir Bedivere departed, and went to the sword, and lightly took it up and went to the water's side, and there he bound the girdle about the hilts. And then he threw the sword into the water as far as he might, and there came an arm and a hand above the water, and met it, and caught it, and so shook it thrice and brandished. And then the hand vanished away with the sword in the water. So Sir Bedivere came again to the King, and told him what he had seen. "Alas! " said the King, "help me from hence; for I dread me I have tarried over long," Then Sir Bedivere took King Arthur upon his back, and so went with him to the water's side; and, when they were at the water's side, even fast by the bank hoved a little barge, with many fair ladies in it; and among them all was a queen, and all they had black hoods; and they wept and shrieked when they saw King Arthur. "Now put me into the barge," said the King. And so he did softly^ and there received him three queens with great 68 THE PASSING OF ARTHUR. mourning; and so these three queens sat them down, and in one of their laps King Arthur laid his head. And then that queen said, " Ah ! dear brother, why have ye tarried so long from me ? Alas ! this wound on your head hath taken over- much cold." And so then they rowed from the land; and Sir Bedivere beheld all those ladies go from him. Then Sir Bedivere cried, " Ah ! my lord Arthur, what shall become of me now ye go from me, and leave me here alone among mine enemies ? " " Comfort thyself," said King Arthur, "and do as well as thou mayest; for in me is no trust for to trust in : for I will into the vale of Avilion, for to heal me of my grievous wound ; and, if thou never hear more of me, pray for my soul." But evermore the queens and the ladies wept and shrieked, that it was pity for to hear them ; and, as soon as Sir Bedi- vere had lost sight of the barge, he wept and wailed, and so took the forest, and so he went all the night ; and, in the morning, he was ware, between two hills, of a chapel and a hermitage. THE PASSING OF ARTHUR. From Idylls of the Kino. Alfred, Lord Tennyson. So all day long the noise of battle rolPd Among the mountains by the winter sea , Until King Arthur's Table, man by man. Had falPn in Lyonnesse about their Lord, King Arthur. Then, because his wound was deep, The bold Sir Bedivere uplifted him, THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS, 69 And bore him to a chapel nigh the field, A broken chancel with a broken cross, That stood on a dark strait of barren land : On one side lay the Ocean, and on one Lay a great water, and the moon was full. Then spake King Arthur to Sir Bedivere : " The sequel of to-day unsolders all The goodliest fellowship of famous knights Whereof this world holds record. Such a sleep They sleep — the men I loved. I think that we Shall never more, at any future time. Delight our souls with talk of knightly deeds, Walking about the gardens and the halls Of Camelot, as in the days that were. I perish by this people which I made, — Tho' Merlin sware that I should come again To rule once more ; but, let what will be, be, I am so deeply smitten thro' the helm That without help I cannot last till morn. Thou therefore take my brand Excalibur, Which was my pride : for thou rememberest how In those old days, one summer noon, an arm Eose up from out the bosom of the lake. Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful. Holding the sword — and how I row'd across And took it, and have worn it, like a king ; And, wheresoever I am sung or told In af tertime, this also shall be known : But now delay not : take Excalibur, And fling him far into the middle mere : Watch what thou seest and lightly bring me word." To him replied the bold Sir Bedivere : TO THE PASSING OF ARTHUR, " It is not meet, Sir King, to leave thee thus, Aidless, alone, and smitten thro' the helm — A little thing may harm a wounded man ; Yet I thy hest will all perform at full, Watch what I see, and lightly bring thee word." So saying, from the ruin'd shrine he stept. And in the moon athwart the place of tombs, Where lay the mighty bones of ancient men, Old knights, and over them the sea-wind sang Shrill, chill, with flakes of foam. He, stepping down By zigzag paths, and juts of pointed rock, Came on the shining levels of the lake. There drew he forth the brand Excalibur, And o'er him, drawing it, the winter moon, Brightening the skirts of a long cloud, ran forth And sparkled keen with frost against the hilt: For all the haft twinkled with diamond sparks, Myriads of topaz-lights, and jacinth-work Of subtlest jewellery. He gazed so long That both his eyes were dazzled, as he stood, This way and that dividing the swift mind, In act to throw : but at the last it seem'd Better to leave Excalibur conceal'd There in the many-knotted water flags, That whistled stiff and dry about the marge. So strode he back slow to the wounded King. Then spake King Arthur to Sir Bedivere : "Hast thou perform'd my mission which I gave? What is it thou hast seen? or what hast heard?" And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere : " I heard the ripple washing in the reeds. And the wild water lapping on the crag." To whom replied King Arthur, faint and pale : TffE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. Tl " Thou hast betray 'd thy nature and thy name, Not rendering true answer, as beseem' d Thy fealty, nor like a noble knight : Tor surer sign had followed, either hand, Or voice, or else a motion of the mere. This is a shameful thing for men to lie. Yet now, I charge thee, quickly go again. As thou art lief and dear, and do the thing I bade thee, watch, and lightly bring me word." Then went Sir Bedivere the second time Across the ridge, and paced beside the mere. Counting the dewy pebbles, fix'd in thought j But when he saw the wonder of the hilt. How curiously and strangely chased, he smote His palms together, and he cried aloud : " And if indeed I cast the brand away. Surely a precious thing, one Avorthy note. Should thus be lost forever from the earth. Which might have pleased the eyes of many men. What good should follow this, if this were done? What harm, undone ? Deep harm to disobey. Seeing obedience is the bond of rule. Were it well to obey then, if a king demand An act unprofitable, against himself? The King is sick, and knows not what he does. What record, or what relic of my lord Should be to aftertime, but empty breath And rumors of a doubt? but were this kept. Stored in some treasure-house of mighty kings, Some one might show it at a joust of arms. Saying, 'King Arthur's sword, Excalibur, Wrought by the lonely maiden of the Lake. Nine years she wrought it, sitting in the deeps 72 THE PASSING OF ARTHUR, Upon the hidden bases of the hills. ' So might some old man speak in the aftertime To all the people, winning reverence. But now much honor and much fame were lost." So spake he, clouded with his own conceit, And hid Excalibur the second time. And so strode back slow to the wounded King. Then spoke King Arthur, breathing heavily : "What is it thou hast seen? or what hast heard?" And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere : " I heard the water lapping on the crag. And the long ripple washing in the reeds." To whom replied King Arthur, much in wrath : " Ah, miserable and unkind, untrue, Unknightly, traitor-hearted! Woe is me! Authority forgets a dying king. Laid widow'd of the power in his eye That bow'd the will. I see thee what thou art, For thou, the latest-left of all my knights, In whom should meet the offices of all. Thou wouldst betray me for the precious hilt; Either from lust of gold, or like a girl Valuing the giddy pleasure of the eyes. Yet, for a man may fail in duty twice, And the third time may prosper, get thee hence : But, if thou spare to fling Excalibur, I will arise and slay thee with my hands." Then quickly rose Sir Bedivere, and ran, And, leaping down the ridges lightly, plunged Among the bulrush beds, and clutch'd the sword, And strongly wheel' d and threw it. The great brand Made lightnings in the splendor of the moon, And flashing round and round, and whirl'd in an arch, THE BEABT OF OAK BOOKS. 73 Shot like a streamer of the northern morn, Seen where the moving isles of winter shock By night with noises of the Northern Sea. So flashed and fell the brand Excalibur : But ere he dipt the surface, rose an arm Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful, And caught him by the hilt, and brandish'd him Three times, and drew him under in the mere. And lightly went the other to the King. Then spoke King Arthur, drawing thicker breath: " Now see I by thine eyes that this is done. Speak out: what is it thou hast heard, or seen?" And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere: " Sir King, I closed mine eyelids, lest the gems Should blind my purpose, for I never saw, Nor shall see, here or elsewhere, till I die. Not tho' I live three lives of mortal men. So great a miracle as yonder hilt. Then with both hands I flung him, wheeling him; But when I looked again, behold an arm, Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful. That caught him by the hilt, and brandish^ him Three times, and drew him under in the mere." And answer made King Arthur, breathing hard : "My end draws nigh; 'tis time that I were gone. Make broad thy shoulders to receive my weight, And bear me to the margin ; yet I fear My wound hath taken cold, and I shall die." So saying, from the pavement he half rose, Slowly, with pain, reclining on his arm. And looking wistfully with wide blue eyes As in a picture. Him Sir Bedivere Remorsefully regarded thro' his tears, 74 THE PASSING OF ARTHUR, And would have spoken, but he found not words ; . Then took with care, and kneeling on one knee. O'er both his shoulders drew the languid hands, And rising bore him thro' the place of tombs. But, as he walk'd, King Arthur panted hard, Like one that feels a nightmare on his bed When all the house is mute. So sigh'd the King, Muttering and murmuring at his ear, "Quick, quick! I fear it is too late, and I shall die." But the other swiftly strode from ridge to ridge, Clothed with his breath, and looking, as he walk'd, Larger than human on the frozen hills. He heard the deep behind him, and a cry- Before. His own thought drove him like a goad. Dry clash'd his harness in the icy caves And barren chasms, and all to left and right The bare black cliff clang'd round him, as he based His feet on juts of slippery crag that rang Sharp-smitten with the dint of armed heels — And on a sudden, lo ! the level lake. And the long glories of the winter moon. Then saw they how there hove a dusky barge, Dark as a funeral scarf from stem to stern. Beneath them ; and descending they were ware That all the decks were dense with stately forms, Black-stoled, black-hooded, like a dream — by these Three Queens with crowns of gold : and from them rose A cry that shiver'd to the tingling stars. And, as it were one voice, an agony Of lamentation, like a wind that shrills All night in a waste land, where no one comes, Or hath come, since the making of the world. Then murmurM Arthur^ "Place me in the barge." THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS, 75 So to the barge tliey came. There those three Queens Put forth their hands, and took the King, and wept. But she, that rose the tallest of them all And fairest, laid his head upon her lap. And loosed the shattered casque, and chafed his hands, And call'd him by his name, complaining loud, And dropping bitter tears against a brow Striped with dark blood: for all his face was white And colorless, and like the withered moon Smote by the fresh beam of the springing east ; And all his greaves and cuisses dash'd with drops Of onset; and the light and lustrous curls — That made his forehead like a rising sun High from the dais -throne — were parch'd with dust; Or, clotted into points and hanging loose, Mix'd with the knightly growth that fringed his lips. So like a shatter'd column lay the King; Not like that Arthur who, with lance in rest, From spur to plume a star of tournament, Shot thro' the lists of Camelot, and charged Before the eyes of ladies and of kings. Then loudly cried the bold Sir Bedivere: "Ah! my Lord Arthur, whither shall I go? Where shall I hide my forehead and my eyes? For now I see the true old times are dead, "When every morning brought a noble chance, And every chance brought out a noble knight. Such times have been not since the light that led The holy Elders with the gift of myrrh. But now the whole Bound Table is dissolved Which was an image of the mighty world, And I, the last, go forth companionless. And the days darken round me, and the years. Among new men, strange faces, other minds." 76 THE PASSING OF ABTHUIt. And slowly answered Arthur from the barge : " The old order changeth, yielding place to new, And God fulfils himself in many ways, Lest one good custom should corrupt the world. Comfort thyself : what comfort is in me ? I have lived my life, and that which I have done May He within himself make pure ! but thou, If thou shouldst never see my face again, Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice Eise like a fountain for me night and day. For what are men better than sheep or goats That nourish a blind life within the brain, If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer Both for themselves and those who call them friend ? For so the whole round earth is every way Bound by gold chains about the feet of God. But now farewell. I am going a long way With these thou seest — if indeed I go (For all my mind is clouded with a doubt) — To the island-valley of Avilion ; Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow. Nor ever wind blows loudly ; but it lies Deep-meadow 'd, happy, fair with orchard lawns And bowery hollows crown'd with summer sea, Where I will heal me of my grievous wound." So said he, and the barge with oar and sail Moved from the brink, like some full-breasted swan That, fluting a wild carol ere her death, Euffles her pure cold plume, and takes the flood With swarthy webs. Long stood Sir Bedivere Kevolving many memories, till the hull Look'd one black dot against the verge of dawn, And on the mere the wailing died away. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS, 77 But when that moan had past for evermore, The stillness of the dead world's winter dawn Amazed him, and he groan'd, " The King is gone." And therewithal came on him the weird rhyme, " From the great deep to the great deep he goes.'' Whereat he slowly turned and slowly clomb The last hard footstep of that iron crag ; Thence mark'd the black hull moving yet, and cried, " He passes to be King among the dead. And after healing of his grievous wound He comes again j but — if he come no more — O me, be yon dark .Queens in yon black boat. Who shriek'd and waiPd, the three whereat we gazed On that high day, when, clothed with living light, They stood before his throne in silence, friends Of Arthur, who should help him at his need ? " Then from the dawn it seem'd there came, but faint As from beyond the limit of the world. Like the last echo born of a great cry. Sounds, as if some fair city were one voice Around a king returning from his wars. Thereat once more he moved about, and clomb Ev'n to the highest he could climb, and saw. Straining his eyes beneath an arch of hand, Or thought he saw, the speck that bare the King, Down that long water opening on the deep Somewhere far off, pass on and on, and go From less to less and vanish into light. And the new sun rose bringing the new year. 78 SIB GALAHAD, SIR GALAHAD. Alfred, Lord Tennyson. My good blade carves the casques of men, My tough lance thrusteth sure, My strength is as the strength of ten, Because my heart is pure. The shattering trumpet shrilleth high, The hard brands shiver on the steel. The splinter'd spear-shafts crack and fly, The" horse and rider reel : They reel, they roll in clanging lists. And when the tide of combat stands. Perfume and flowers fall in showers. That lightly rain from ladies' hands. How sweet are looks that ladies bend • On whom their favors fall! For them I battle till the end, To save from shame and thrall: But all my heart is drawn above. My knees are bow'd in crypt and shrine: I never felt the kiss of love, Nor maiden's hand in mine. More bounteous aspects on me beam, Me mightier transports move and thrill; So keep I fair thro' faith and prayer A virgin heart in work and will. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 79 When down the stormy crescent goes, A light before me swims, Between dark stems the forest glows, I hear a noise of hymns : Then by some secret shrine I ride; I hear a voice but none are there ; The stalls are void, the doors are wide, The tapers burning fair. Fair gleams the snowy altar-cloth. The silver vessels sparkle clean. The shrill bell rings, the censer swings, And solemn chaunts resound between. Sometimes on lonely mountain-meres I find a magic bark ; I leap on board: no helmsman steers: I float till all is dark. A gentle sound, an awful light! Three angels bear the Holy Grail: With folded feet, in stoles of white, On sleeping wings they sail. Ah, blessed vision ! blood of God ! My spirit beats her mortal bars. As down dark tides the glory slides. And star-like mingles with the stars. When on my goodly charger borne Thro' dreaming towns I go. The cock crows ere the Christmas morn, The streets are dumb with snow. The tempest crackles on the leads. And, ringing, spins from brand and mail ; But o'er the dark a glory spreads. And gilds the driving hail. 80 SIR GALAHAD. I leave the plain, I climb the height j No branchy thicket shelter yields j But blessed forms in whistling storms Fly o'er waste fens and windy fields. A maiden knight — to me is given Such hope, I know not fear; I yearn to breathe the airs of heaven That often meet me here. I muse on joy that will not cease, Pure spaces clothed in living beams, Pure lilies of eternal peace, Whose odors haunt my dreams; And, stricken by an angePs hand, This mortal armor that I wear, This weight and size, this heart and eyes, Are touch'd, are turn'd to finest air. The clouds are broken in the sky, And thro' the mountain- walls A rolling organ-harmony Swells up, and shakes and falls. Then move the trees, the copses nod, Wings flutter, voices hover clear : " O just and faithful knight of God I Ride on! the prize is near." So pass I hostel, hall, and grange ; By bridge and ford, by park and pale, All-arm' d I ride, whate'er betide, Until I find the Holy Grail. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 81 VANITY FAIR: AND THE EXPERIENCES OF CHRISTIAN AND FAITHFUL THEREAT. From The Pilgrim's Progrbss. John Bunyan. So Evangelist began as followetli: — "My sons, you have heard, in the words of the truth of the Gospel, that you must, through many tribulations, enter into the kingdom of heaven. And again, that in every city bonds and aflBlictions abide in youj and therefore you cannot expect that you should go long on your pilgrimage without them, in some sort or other. You have found something of the truth of these testimonies upon you already, and more will immediately follow; for now, as you see, you are almost out of this wilderness, and therefore you will soon come into a town that you will by and by see before you; and in that town you will be hardly beset with enemies, who will strain hard but they will kill you; and be you sure that one or both of you must seal the testimony which you hold with blood ; but be you faithful unto death, and the king will give you a crown of life. He that shall die there, although his death will be unnatural, and his pain perhaps great, he will yet have the better of his fellow; not only because he will be arrived at the celestial city soonest, but because he will escape many miseries that the other will meet with in the rest of his journey. But when you are come to the town, and shall find fulfilled what I have here related, then remember your friend, and quit yourselves like men; and commit the keeping of your souls to your God in well-doing, as unto a faithful creator." 82 VANITY FAIR. Then I saw in mj dream, that when they were got out of the wilderness, they presently saw a town before them, and the name of that town is Vanity ; and at the town there is a fair kept, called Vanity Fair. It is kept all the year long; it beareth the name of Vanity Fair, because the town where His kept is lighter than vanity; and also because all that is there sold, or that cometh thither, is vanity. As is the saying of the wise, "all that cometh is vanity." This fair is no new-erected business, but a thing of ancient standing; I will show you the original of it. Almost five thousand years agone, there were pilgrims walking to the celestial city, as these two honest persons are. And Beelzebub, Apollyon, and Legion, with their companions, perceiving by the path that the pilgrims made, that their way to the city lay through this town of Vanity, they contrived here to set up a fair; a fair wherein should be sold all sorts of vanity, and that it should last all the year long; therefore, at this fair, are all such merchandise sold, as houses, lands, trades, places, honors, preferments, titles, countries, king- doms, lusts, pleasures; and delights of all sorts, as . . . lives, blood, bodies, souls, silver, gold, pearls, precious stones, and what not. And, moreover, at this fair there is at all times to be seen jugglings, cheats, games, plays, fools, apes, knaves, and rogues, and that of every kind. Here are to be seen, too, and that for nothing, thefts, mur- ders, adulteries, false swearers, and that of a blood-red color. And as in other fairs of less moment, there are the several rows and streets, under their proper names, where such and such wares are vended; so here likewise you have the proper places, rows, streets (viz. countries and kingdoms), where the wares of this fair are soonest to be found. Here is the Britain Kow, the French Row, the Italian Row, the Spanish THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 83 Kow, the German Kow, where several sorts of vanities are to be sold. But, as in other fairs, some one ccynmodity is as the chief of all the fair, so the ware of Vanity and her merchandise is greatly promoted in this fair; only our Eng- lish nation, with some others, have taken a dislike thereat. Now, as I said, the way to the celestial city lies just through this town where this lusty fair is kept; and he that will go to the city, and yet not go through this town, must needs "go out of the world." The prince of princes himself, when here, went through this town to his own country, and that upon a fair-day too; yea, and as I think, it was Beelze- bub, the chief lord of this fair, that invited him to buy of his vanities; yea, would have made him lord of the fair, would he have but done him reverence as he went through the town. Yea, because he was such a person of honor, Beelzebub had him from street to street, and showed him all the kingdoms of the world in a little time, that he might, if possible, allure that blessed one to cheapen and buy some of his vanities; but he had no mind to the merchandise, and therefore left the town, without laying out so much as one farthing upon these vanities. This fair, therefore, is an ancient thing, of long standing, and a very great fair. Now these pilgrims, as I said, must needs go through this fair. Well, so they did; but, behold, even as they entered into the fair, all the people in the fair were moved, and the town itself, as it were, in a hubbub about them; and that for several reasons : for, First : The pilgrims were clothed with such kind of raiment as was diverse from the raiment of any that traded in that fair. The people, therefore, of the fair, made a great gazing upon them : some said they were foOls, some they were bed- lams, and some they were outlandish-men. Secondly: And as they wondered at their apparel, so they 84 VANITY FAIR. did likewise at their speech; for few could understand what they said. They naturally spoke the language of Canaan, but they that kept the fair were the men of this world; so that from one end of the fair to the other, they seemed barbarians each to the other. Thirdly: But that which did not a little amuse the mer- chandisers, was that these pilgrims set very light by all their wares ; they cared not so much as to look upon them ; and if they called upon them to buy, they would put their fingers in their ears, and cry, "Turn away mine eyes from beholding vanity," and look upwards, signifying that their trade and traffic was in Heaven. One chanced, mockingly, beholding the carriage of the men, to say unto them, "What will ye buy?" But they, looking gravely upon him, answered, "We buy the truth." At that there was an occasion taken to despise the men the more; some mocking, some taunting, some speaking reproach- fully, and some calling upon others to smite them. At last things came to a hubbub and great stir in the fair, insomuch that all order was confounded. Now was word presently brought to the great one of the fair, who quickly came down, and deputed some of his most trusty friends to take these men into examination, about whom the fair was almost over- turned. So the men were brought to examination ; and they that sat upon them, asked them whence they came, whither they went, and what they did there, in such unusual garb? The men told them that they were pilgrims, and strangers in the world, and that they were going to their own country, which was the heavenly Jerusalem ; and that they had given none occasion to the men of the town, nOr yet to the mer- chandisers, thus to abuse them, and to let them in their journey, except it was for that, when one asked them what they would buy, they said ^^ey would buy the truth. But THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 85 they that were appointed to examine them, did not believe them to be any other than bedlams, and mad, or else such as came to put all things into a confusion in the fair. There- fore they took them and beat them, and besmeared them with dirt, and then put them into the cage, that they might be made a spectacle to all the men of the fair. There, therefore, they lay for some time, and were made the objects of any man's sport, or malice, or revenge, the great one of the fair laughing still at all that befell them. But the men being patient, and not rendering railing for railing, but contrariwise, blessing, and giving good words for bad, and kindness for injuries done, some men in the fair that were more observing, and less prejudiced than the rest, began to check and blame the baser sort for the continual abuses done by them to the men; they, therefore, in angry manner, let fly at them again, counting them as bad as the men in the cage, and telling them that they seemed confederates, and should be made partakers of their misfortunes. The others replied, that for aught they could see, the men were quiet and sober, and intended nobody any harm; and that there were many that traded in their fair that were more worthy to be put into the cage, yea, and pillory too, than were the men that they had abused. Thus, after divers words had passed on both sides, (the men behaving themselves all the while very wisely and soberly before them,) they fell to some blows and did harm one to another. Then were these two poor men brought before their examiners again, and there charged as being guilty of the late hubbub that had been in the fair. So they beat them pitifully, and hanged irons upon them, and led them in chains up and down the fair, for an example and a terror to others, lest any should further speak in their behalf, or join themselves unto them. But Christian and Faithful behaved themselves yet more wisely, 86 VANITY FAIR. and received the ignominy and shame that was cast upon them, with so much meekness and patience, that it won to their side, though but few in comparison of the rest, several of the men in the fair. This put the other party yet into greater rage, insomuch that they concluded the death of these two men. Wherefore they threatened that the cage nor irons should serve their turn, but that they should die, for the abuse they had done, and for deluding the men of the fair. Then were th^y remanded to the cage again until further order should be taken with them. So they put them in, and made their feet fast in the stocks. Here also they called again to mind what they had heard from their faithful friend, Evangelist, and were the more confirmed in their way and sufferings, by what he told them would happen to them. They also now comforted each other, that whose lot it was to suffer, even he should have the best of it; therefore each man secretly wished that he might have that preferment: but committing themselves to the All-wise dispose of Him that ruleth all things, with much content, they abode in the condition in which they were, until they should be otherwise disposed of. Then a convenient time being appointed, they brought them forth to their trial, in order to their condemnation. When the time was come, they were brought before their enemies and arraigned. The judge's name was Lord Hate- good. Their indictment was one and the same in substance, though somewhat varying in form ; the contents whereof were this — " That they were enemies to and disturbers of their trade ; that they had made commotions and divisions in the town, and had won a party to their own most dangerous opinions, in contempt of the law of their prince." **The Judge's Name was Lord Hategood," After the drawing by Fred. Barnard. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 87 Then Faithful began to answer, that he had only set himself against that which had set itself against Him that is higher than the highest. " And, " said he, " as for disturb- ance, I make none, being myself a man of peace ; the parties that were won to us, were won by beholding our truth and innocence, and they are only turned from the worse to the better. And as to the king you talk of, since he is Beelze- bub, the enemy of our Lord, I defy him and all his angels." Then proclamation was made, that they that had aught to say for their lord the king against the prisoner at the bar, should forthwith appear and give in their evidence. So there came in three witnesses, to wit. Envy, Superstition, and Pickthank. They were then asked if they knew the prisoner at the bar ; and what they had to say for their lord the king against him. Then stood forth Envy, and said to this effect : " My lord, I have known this man a long time, and will attest upon my oath before this honorable bench, that he is — . Judge. "Hold! Give him his oath." So they sware him. Then he said — "My lord, this man, notwithstanding his plausible name, is one of the vilest men in our country. He neither regardeth prince nor people, law nor custom; but doth all that he can to possess all men with certain of his disloyal notions, which he, in the general, calls principles of faith and holiness. And, in particular, I heard him once myself affirm that Christianity and the customs of our town, of Vanity were diametrically opposite, and could not be recon- ciled. By which saying, my lord, he doth at once not only condemn all our laudable doings, but us in the doing of them." Then did the judge say to him, "Hast thou any more to say?" 88 VANITY FAIR. Envy. "My lord, I could say much more, only I would not be tedious to the court. Yet, if need be, when the other gentlemen have given in their evidence, rather than anything shall be wanting that will despatch him, I will enlarge my testimony against him." So he was bid to stand by. Then they called Superstition, and bid him look upon the prisoner. They also asked what he could say for their lord the king against him. Then they sware him; so he began. Super. " My lord, I have no great acquaintance with this man, nor do I desire to have further knowledge of him; however, this I know, that he is a very pestilent fellow, from some discourse that, the other day, I had with him in this town; for then, talking with him, I heard him say that our religion was nought, and such by which a man could by no means please God. Which sayings of his, my lord, your lordship very well knows, what necessarily thence will follow, to wit, that we still do worship in vain, are yet in our sins, and finally shall be damned; and this is that which I have to say." Then was Pickthank sworn, and bid say what he knew, in behalf of their lord the king, against the prisoner at the bar. Pickthank. " My lord, and you gentlemen all, this fellow I have known of a long time, and have heard him speak things that ought not to be spoke; for he hath railed on our noble prince Beelzebub, and hath spoken contemptibly of his honorable friends, whose names are the lord Old Man, the lord Carnal Delight, the lord Luxurious, the lord Desire of Vain Glory, my old lord Lechery, Sir Having Greedy, with all the rest of our nobility ; and he hath said, moreover, that if all men were of his mind, if possible, there is not one of these noblemen should have any longer a being in this town. Besides, he hath not been afraid to rail on you, my lord, who are now appointed to be his judge, calling you an ungodly THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 89 villain, with many other such like vilifying terms, with which he hath bespattered most of the gentry of our town." When this Pickthank had told his tale, the judge directed his speech to the prisoner at the bar, saying, "Thou runa- gate, heretic, and traitor, hast thou heard what these honest gentlemen have witnessed against thee ? " Faithful. " May I speak a few words in my own defence ? " Judge. " Sirrah ! sirrah ! thou deservest to live no longer, but to be slain immediately upon the place ; yet, that all men may see our gentleness towards thee, let us see what thou hast to say." Faithful. 1. " I say, then, in answer to what Mr. Envy hath spoken, I never said aught but this, that what rule, or laws, or custom, or people, were flat against the word of God, are diametrically opposite to Christianity. If I have said amiss in this, convince me of my error, and I am ready here before you to make my recantation. 2. "As to the second, to wit, Mr. Superstition, and his charge against me, I said only this, that in the worship of God there is required a divine faith ; but there can be no divine faith without a divine revelation of the will of God. There- fore, whatever is thrust into the worship of God, that is not agreeable to divine revelation, cannot be done but by a human faith, which faith will not be profitable to eternal life. 3. "As to what Mr. Pickthank hath said, I say (avoiding terms, as that I am said to rail, and the like), that the prince of this town, with all the rabblement, his attendants, by this gentleman named, are more fit for a being in hell, than in this town and country : and so the Lord have mercy upon me!" Then the judge called to the jury (who all this while stood by, to hear and observe) : " Gentlemen of the jury, you see this man about whom so great an uproar hath been made 90 VANITY FAIR. in this town. You have also heard what these worthy gen- tlemen have witnessed against him. Also you have heard his reply and confession. It lieth now in your breasts to hang him or save his life; but yet I think meet to instruct you into our law. " There was an act made in the days of Pharaoh the Great, servant to our prince, that, lest those of a contrary religion should multiply and grow too strong for him, their males should be thrown into the river. There was also an act made in the days of Nebuchadnezzar the Great, another of his servants, that whosoever would not fall down and worship his golden image, should be thrown into a fiery furnace. "There was also an act made in the days of Darius, that whoso, for some time, called upon any god but him, should be cast into the lions' den. Now the substance of these laws, this rebel has broken, not only in thought (which is not to be borne), but also in word and deedj which must there- fore needs be intolerable. " For that of Pharaoh, his law was made upon a supposi- tion, to prevent mischief, no crime being yet apparent; but here is a crime apparent. For the second and third, you see he disputed against our religion ; and for the treason he hath confessed, he deserveth to die the death." Then went the jury out, whose names were Mr. Blind-man, Mr. No-good, Mr. Malice, Mr. Love-lust, Mr. Live-loose, Mr. Heady, Mr. High-mind, Mr. Enmity, Mr. Liar, Mr. Cruelty, Mr. Hate-light, and Mr. Implacable; who every one gave in his private verdict against him among them- selves, and afterwards unanimously concluded to bring him in guilty before the judge. And first, among themselves, Mr. Blind-man, the foreman, said, " I see clearly that this man is an heretic." Then said Mr. No-good, "Away with such a fellow from the earth," " Av," said Mr, Malice. " for I hate THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 91 the very looks of him." "Then," said Mr. Love-lust, "I could never endure him." "Nor I," said Mr. Live-loose, "for he would always be condemning my way." "Hang him, hang him," said Mr. Heady. "A sorry scrub," said Mr. High-mind. "My heart riseth against him," said Mr. Enmity. "He is a rogue," said Mr. Liar. "Hanging is too good for him," said Mr. Cruelty. "Let us despatch him out of the way," said Mr. Hate-light. "Then," said Mr. Implac- able, " might I have all the world given me, I could not be reconciled to him; therefore, let us forthwith bring him in guilty of death." And so they did; therefore he was pres- ently condemned to be had from the place where he was, to the place from whence he came, and there to be put to the most cruel death that could be invented. They therefore brought him out, to do with him according to their law; and, first, they scourged him, then they buffeted him, then they lanced his flesh with knives; after that, they stoned him with stones, then pricked him with their swords; and, last of all, they burned him to ashes at the stake. Thus came Faithful to his end. Now I saw that there stood behind the multitude a chariot and a couple of horses, waiting for Faithful, who (so soon as his adversaries had despatched him) was taken up into it, and straightway was carried up through the clouds, with sound of trumpet, the nearest way to the Celestial Gate. But as for Christian, he had some respite, and was re- manded back to prison. So he there remained for a space; but He that overrules all things, having the power of their rage in His own hand, so wrought it about, that Christian for that time escaped them, and went his way. 92 THE DEATH OF C^SAB, WILL YOU BUY ANY TAPE? From The Winter's Tale. William Shakespeare. Will you buy any tape, Or lace for your cape, My dainty duck, my dear-a? Any silk, any thread. Any toys for your head. Of the newest, and fin'st, finest wear-a? Come to the pedlar; Money's a medler. That doth utter all men's ware-a. THE DEATH OF C^SAR. Translated out of the Greek of Plutarch into French by James Amiot^ Bishop of Auxerre and Great Almoner of France^ and out of French into English by Sir Thomas North, Knight.^ But the chiefest cause that made Caesar mortally hated, was the covetous desire he had to be called king which first gave the people just cause, and next his secret why Caesar enemies honest color to bear him ill will. This was hated. notwithstanding, they that procured him this honor and dignity gave it out among the people, that it was written in the Sybilline prophesies, how the Romans might overcome the Parthians, if they made war with them, and were led by a king, but otherwise that they were unconquerable. 1 From North's translation, first published in 1579, Shakespeare is said to have taken his material for the tragedy of Julius CsBsar. It will be seen from this selection that he followed Plutarch not only in the main events and details of the action, but often the spirit and phrasing of the English version. TBS BEAttf OP OAK hOOKS, SS And furthermore they were so bold besides, that Caesar returning to Rome from the city of Alba, when they came to salute him, they called him king. But the people being offended, and Caesar also angry, he said he was not called king, but Caesar. Then every man keeping silence, he went his way heavy and sorrowful. When they had decreed divers honors for him in the senate, the consuls and praetors, accompanied with the whole assembly of the senate, went unto him in the market-place, where he was set by the pulpit for orations, to tell him what honors they had decreed for him in his absence. But he sitting still in his majesty, disdain- ing to rise up unto them when they came in, as if they had been private men, answered them : that his honors had more need to be cut off than enlarged. This did not only offend the senate, but the common people also, to see that he should so lightly esteem of the magistrates of the commonwealth: insomuch as every man that might lawfully go his way, departed thence very sorrowfully. Thereupon also Caesar ris- ing, departed home to his house, and tearing open his doublet collar, making his neck bare, he cried out aloud to his friends that his throat was ready to offer to any man that would come and cut it. Notwithstanding, it is reported that afterwards, to excuse his folly, he imputed it to his disease, saying that their wits are not perfect which have this disease of the fall- ing-evil when standing on their feet they speak to the com-' mon people, but are soon troubled with a trembling of their body, and a sudden dimness and giddiness. But that was not true, for he would have risen up to the senate, but Cor- nelius Balbus, one of his friends (but rather a flatterer), would not let him, saying : " What ! do you not remember that you are Caesar, and will you not let them reverence you, and do their duties?" Besides these occasions and offences there followed also his shame and reproach, abusing the tribunes of the people in this sort. At that time the feast Lupercalia 94 THE DEATH OF C^SAR. was celebrated, the which in old times, men say, was the feast of sTiepherds or herdsmen, and is much like unto the feast of the Lycsea in Arcadia. But howsoever it is, that The feast ^ there are divers noblemen's sons, young Lnpercalia. "^ . i i men, (and some of them magistrates themselves that govern then,) which run naked through the city, striking in sport them they meet in their way, with leathern thongs, hair and all on, to make them give place. . . . Caesar sate to behold that sport upon the pulpit for orations, in a chair of gold, apparelled in triumphing manner. Antonius, being consnl, who was consul at that time, was one of them that was one of the p^n this holy course. So when he came into the market-place, the people made a lane for him to prwented the ^^^ ^* liberty, and he came to Caesar and presented diadem to him a diadem wreathed about with laurel. Where- Offlsar. upon there rose a certain cry and rejoicing, not very great, done only by a few appointed for the purpose. But when Csesar refused the diadem, then all the people together made an outcry of joy. Then Antonius offering it him again, there was a second shout of joy, but yet of a few. But when Caesar refused it again the second time, then all the whole people shouted. Caesar having made this proof, found that the peo- ple did not like of it, and thereupon rose out of his chair, and commanded the crown to be carried unto Jupitei- in the Capi- tol. After that there were set up images of Caesar in the city, with diadems upon their heads like kings. Those, the two tribunes. Flavins and Marullus, went and pulled down, and furthermore, meeting with them that first saluted Caesar as king, they committed them to prison. The people followed them rejoicing at it, and called them Bruti, because of Brutus, who had in old time driven the kings out of Kome, and brought the kingdom of one person unto the government of the senate and the people. Caesar was so offended withal, THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 95 that he deprived Marullus and Flavins of their tribuneships, and accusing them, he spake also against the people and called them Bruti and Cumcni, to wit, beasts and fools. Hereupon the people went straight unto Marcus Brutus, who from his father came of the first Brutus, and by jjarcus Bm- his mother of the house of the Servilii, a noble tus' life, after house as any was in Kome, and was also nephew * ® *** ® ° and son-in-law of Marcus Cato. Notwithstanding, the great honors and favor Caesar shewed unto him kept him back that of himself alone he did not conspire nor consent to depose him of his kingdom. For Caesar did not only save his life after the battle of Pharsalia when Pompey fled, and did at his request also save many more of his friends besides : but furthermore, he put a marvellous confidence in him. For he had already preferred him to the praetorship for that year, and furthermore was appointed to be consul the fourth year after that, having through Caesar's friendship obtained it before Cassius, who likewise made suit for the same: and Caesar also, as it is reported, said in this contention, " Indeed Cassius hath alleged best reason, but yet shall he not be chosen before Brutus." Some one day accusing Brutus while he practised this conspiracy, Caesar would not hear -q^^^^ of it, but clapping his hand on his body told them, conspireth " Brutus will look for this skin " : meaning thereby against Caesar, that Brutus for his virtue deserved to rule after him, but yet that for ambition's sake, he would not shew himself unthank- ful or dishonorable. Now they that desired change, and wished Brutus only their prince and governor above all other, they durst not come to him themselves to tell him what they would have him to do, but in the night did cast sundry papers into the praetor's seat, where he gave audience, and the most of them to this effect: "Thou sleepest Brutus, and art not Brutus indeed." Cassius finding Brutus' ambition stirred up 96 THE DEATH OF C^SAR. the more by these seditious bills, did prick him forward and edge him on the more for a private quarrel he had conceived C stir- against Caesar : the circumstance whereof we have reth up BrutQs set down at large in Brutus' life. Caesar also had against Caesar, ^assius in great jealousy, and suspected him much : whereupon he said on a time to his friends : " What will Cassius do, think ye? I like not his pale looks! " An- other time when Caesar's friends complained unto him of Antonius and Dolabella, that, they pretended some mischief towards him, he answered them again: "As for those fat men and smooth-combed heads," quoth he, "I never reckon of them ; but these pale-visaged and carrion-lean people, I fear them most," meaning Brutus and Cassius. Certainly destiny may easier be foreseen than avoided, considering the strange ^ ,. . and wonderful signs that were said to be seen Fredictions and foreshews before Caesar's death. For, touching the fires in of Caesar's the element, and spirits running up and down in *** the night, and also the solitary birds to be seen at noondays sitting in the great market-place, are not all these signs perhaps worth the noting, in such a wonderful chance as happened? But Strabo, the philosopher, writeth that divers men were seen going up and down in fire ; and furthermore, that there was a slave of the soldiers that did cast a marvellous burning flame out of his hand, insomuch as they that saw it thought he had been burnt; when the fire was out it was found he had no hurt. Caesar's self also doing sacrifice unto the gods found that one of the beasts which was sacrificed had no heart; and that was a strange thing in nature: of death prog- ^ow a beast could live without a heart. Further- nostioated by more there was a certain soothsayer that had given a soot sayer. Qg^^^j. earning long time afore to take heed of the ides of March (which is the fifteenth of the month), for on that day he should be in great danger. That day being come, Caesar THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 97 going unto the senate -house, and speaking merrily unto the soothsayer, told him the ides of March be come: "So they be," softly answered the soothsayer, "but yet are they not passed." And the very day before, Caesar, supping with Mar- cus Lepidus, sealed certain letters as he was wont to do at the board: so talk falling out amongst them, reasoning what death was best, he preventing their opinions, cried out aloud : "Death unlooked for." Then going to bed the same night, all the windows and doors of his chamber flying open, the noise awoke him, and made him afraid when he saw such light; but more when he heard his wife, Calpurnia, being fast asleep, weep and sigh, and put forth many fum- ,^^^ ^^^^ ^^ bling lamentable speeches; for she dreamed that Calpurnia, Csesar was slain. Others also do deny that she ^^^^"^'^ ^^^®' had any such dream, as, amongst others, Titus Livius, writeth that it was in this sort. The senate having set upon the top of Caesar's house, for an ornament and setting forth of the same, a certain pinnacle, Calpurnia dreamed that she saw it broken down and that she thought she lamented and wept for it. Insomuch that Caesar rising in the morning, she prayed him if it were possible not to go out of the doors that day, but to adjourn, the session of the senate until another day. And if that he made no reckoning of her dream, yet that he would search further of the soothsayers by their sacrifices to know what should happen to him that day. Thereby it seemed that Caesar likewise did fear and suspect somewhat, because his wife Calpurnia until that time was never given to any fear and superstition : and then, for that he saw her so troubled in mind with this dream she had. But much more afterwards, when the soothsayers having sacrificed many beasts one after another, told him that none did like them : then he determined to send Antonius to adjourn the session of the senate. But in the meantime came Decius Brutus, 98 THE DEATH OF CjESAB. surnamed Albinus, in whom Caesar put such confidence that in his last will and testament he had appointed him to be his next heir, and yet was of the conspiracy with Albinus' per- Cassius and Brutus : he fearing that if Caesar did suasion to adjourn the session that day the conspiracy would Csesar. ^^^^^ laughed the soothsayers to scorn, and reproved Csesar, saying : that he gave the senate occasion to mislike with him, and that they might think he mock^*^ them, considering that by his commandment they were assembled, and that they were ready willingly to grant him all things and to proclaim him king of all his provinces of the empire of Rome out of Italy, and that he should wear his diadem in all other places both by sea and land. And furthermore that if any man should tell them from him they should depart for that present time, and return again when Calpurnia should have better dreams, what would his enemies and ill-willers say, and how could they like of his friends' words ? And who could per- suade them otherwise but that they would think his domink)n a slavery unto them and tyrannical in himself? " And yet if it be so," said he, "that you utterly mislike of this day, it is better that you go yourself in person, and saluting the senate, to dismiss them till another time." Therewithal he took Caesar by the hand and brought him out of his house. Caesar was not gone far from his house, but a bondman, brought Cffisar ^ Stranger, did what he could to speak with him : into the and when he saw he was put back by the great senate-house. ^^^^^ ^^^ multitude of people that followed him. The tokens of he went straight into his house and put himself the conspiracy -^^^^ Calpurnia's hands to be kept till Caesar came aga s »8 . ^^^^ again, telling her that he had great matters to impart unto him. And one Artemidorus also born in the isle of Cnidos, a doctor of rhetorick in the Greek tongue, who by means of his profession was very familiar with certain of THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 99 Brutus' confederates and therefore knew the most part of all their practices against Caesar, came and brought him a little billj written with his own hand, of all that he meant to tell him. He marking how Caesar received all the supplications that were offered him, and that he gave them straight to his men that were about him, pressed nearer to him and said: " Caesar, read this memorial to yourself, and that quickly, for they be matters of great weight and touch you nearly." Caesar took it of him but could never read it, though he many times attempted it, for the number of people that did salute him : but holding it still in his hand, keeping it to himself, went on with all into the senate-house. Howbeit others are of opinion that it was some man else that gave him that memorial, and not Artemidorus, who did what he could all the way as he went to give it Caesar, but he was always repulsed by the people. For these things they may seem to come by chance, but the place where the murder was prepared, and where the senate were assembled, and where also there stood up an image of Pompey, dedicated by himself, amongst other orna- ments which he gave unto the theatre, all these j,^^ ,^^^ were manifest proofs that it was the ordinance where Caesar of some god that made this treason to be exe- ^^^ ^^*^^' cuted specially in that very place. It is also reported that Cassius (though otherwise he did favor the doctrine of Epi- curus), beholding the image of Pompey, before they entered into the action of their traitorous enterprise, he did softly call upon it to aid him : but the instant danger of the present time, taking away his former reason, did suddenly put him into a furious passion, and made him like a man half j^tonius Ox- besides himself. Now Antonius that was a faith- sar's faithful ful friend to Caesar, and a valiant man besides of ^"®^^' his hands, him Decius Brutus Albinus entertained out of the senate-house having begun a long tale of set purpose. So 100 THE DEATH OF C^SAR. Caesar coming into the house, all the senate stood up on their feet to do him honor. Then part of Brutus' company and confederates stood round about Caesar's chair, and part of them also came towards him as though they made suit with Metellus Cimber to call home his brother again from banish- ment; and thus prosecuting still their suit they followed Caesar till he was set in his chair. Who denying their peti- tions, and being offended with them one after another because the more they were denied the more they pressed upon him and were the earnester with him, Metellus at length, taking his gown with both his hands, pulled it over his neck, which was the sign given the confederates to set upon him. Then Oasca the first ^^^^^ behind him strake him in the neck with his that struck sword ; howbeit the wound was not great nor mor- at Caesar. ^^-^^ because it seemed the fear of such a devilish attempt did amaze him, and take his strength from him that he killed him not at the first blow. But Caesar turning straight unto him, caught hold of his sword and held it hard, and they both cried out, Caesar in Latin, "0 vile traitor, Casca, what doest thou?" and Casca in Greek to his brother, "Brother, help me." At the beginning of this stir, they that were present, not knowing of the conspiracy, were so amazed with the horrible sight they saw, they had no power to fly neither to help him nor so much as once to make any outcry. They on the other side that had conspired his death compassed him in on every side with their swords drawn in their hands that Caesar turned him nowhere but he was stricken at by some and still had naked swords in his face, and was hacked and mangled among them as a wild beast taken of hunters. For it was agreed among them that every man should give him a wound because all their parts should be in this murder. Men report also that Caesar did still defend himself against the rest, running every way with his body : but when he saw THE HEABT OF OAK BOOKS.- \ i''.^ i '',101 , » > > 3 ) ' * Brutus witn his sword drawn in his hand thfrn hf? ;pulfed»HS' gown over his head and made no more resistance, and was driven either casually or purposely by the counsel of the conspirators, against the base whereupon Pompey's image stood, which ran all of gore blood till he was slain. Thus it seemed that the image took just revenge of Pompey's enemy being thrown down on the ground at his feet and yielding up his ghost there for the number of wounds he had upon him. Por it is reported that he had three and twenty wounds upon his body; and divers of the conspira- and had three tors did hurt themselves striking one body with so and twenty many blows. When Caesar was slain the senate Y?^ ^ °^°^ (though Brutus stood in the midst amongst them as though he would have said somewhat touching this fact), presently ran out of the house, and, flying, filled all the city with marvellous fear and tumult. Insomuch as some did shut to the doors, others forsook their shops and ware-houses, and others ran to the place to see what the matter was, and others also that had seen it ran home to their houses again. But Antonius and Lepidus, which were two of Caesar's chiefest friends, secretly conveying themselves away, fled into other men's houses and forsook their own. Brutus and his confed- erates on the other side, being yet hot with this murder they had committed, having their swords drawn in their ■.-, . -, n 1 The murder- hands, came all m a troop together out of the sen- ers of Casar ate and went into the market-place, not as men ^o go to t^e that made countenance to fly, but otherwise, boldly ™*' ^ "^ *^^' holding up their heads like men of courage, and called to the people to defend their liberty and stayed to speak with every great personage whom they met in their way. Of them some followed this troop and went amongst them as if they had been of the conspiracy and falsely challenged part of the honor with them: amongst them were Caius Octavius and 'lOl? V I 3/^ t^^^ THE DEATH OF C^SAR. /jjeiiituto Bpinther. . . . The next morning Brutus and his con- federates came into the market-place to speak unto the people, who gave them such audience that it seemed they neither greatly reproved nor allowed the fact: for by their great silence they showed that they were sorry for Caesar's death and also that they did reverence Brutus. Now the senate granted general pardon for all that was past and to pacify every man ordained besides that Caesar's funeral OsBBar 8 should be honored as a god, and established all funeral. _ ^ ' things that he had done, and gave certain prov- inces also and convenient honors unto Brutus and his con- federates, whereby every man thought all things were brought to good peace and quietness again. But when they had opened Caesar's testament and found a liberal legacy of money bequeathed unto every citizen of Kome, and when they saw his body (which was brought into the market-place) all bemangled with gashes of swords, then there was no order to keep the multitude and common people quiet, but they plucked up forms, tables, and stools and laid them all about the body and setting them afire, burnt the corpse. Then when the fire was well kindled, they took the fire-brands and went unto their houses that had slain Caesar to set them afire. Others also ran up and down the city to see if they could meet with any of them to cut them in pieces : howbeit they could meet with never a man of them because they had locked them- selves up safely in their houses. . . . This stir and fury made Brutus and Cassius more afraid then of all that was past, and therefore within a few days after, they departed out of Kome, Q . , and what calamity they suffered till their deaths, fifty years old we have written it at large in the life of Brutus, at his death. Qgesar died at six and fifty years of age, and Pom- pey also lived not passing four years more than he. So he reaped no other fruit of all his reign and dominion which he THE HEABT OF OAK BOOKS. 108 The revenge of Caesar's death. Cassias, being over- thrown at the battle of Philippi, slew himself with the self-same sword where- with he strake Caesar. had so vehemently desired all his life and pursued with such extreme danger, but a vain name only and a superficial glory that procured him the envy and hatred of his coun- try. But his great prosperity and good fortune that favored him all his life time did continue afterwards in the revenge of his death pursuing the murderers both by sea and land, till they had not left a man more to be executed of all them that were actors or counsellors in the conspiracy of his death. Furthermore, of all the chances that happen unto men upon the earth that which came to Cassius aibove all other is most to be wondered at: for he being overcome in battle at the journey of Philippi, slew himself with the same sword with which he strake Caesar. Again, of signs in the element, the great comet, which, seven nights together was seen very bright after Wonders seen Caesar's death, the eighth night after was never in the ele- seen more. Also the brightness of the sun was "^^nt after darkened, the which all that year through rose very ^g*!^^'*^ pale and shined not out, whereby it gave but small great comet. heat ; therefore the air being very cloudy and dark, ^^^^^^ by the weakness of the heat that could not come gpint ap- forth, did cause the earth to bring forth but raw peared onto and unripe fruit, which rotted before it could ripe. ^°*°^' But above all the ghost that appeared unto Brutus showed plainly that the gods weye offended with the murder of Caesar. The vision was thus: Brutus being newly to pass over his army from the city of Abydos to the other coast lying directly against it, slept every night (as his manner was) in his tent; and being yet awake thinking of his affairs (for by report he was as careful a captain and lived with as little sleep as ever man did) he thought he heard a noise at his tent door, and, looking towards the light of the lamp that waxed very dim, 104 silt pathick spens. he saw a horrible vision of a man of a wonderful greatness and dreadful look, which at the first made him marvellously afraid. But when he saw that it did him no hurt, but stood by his bedside and said nothing, at length he asked him what he was. The image answered him: "I am thy ill angel, Brutus, and thou shalt see me by the city of Philippi." Then Brutus replied and said: "Well, I shall see thee then." Therewithal the spirit presently vanished from him. After that time Brutus being in battle near unto the city of Philippi, against Antonius and Octavius Csesar, at the first battle he won the victory, and, overthrowing all them that withstood him, he drave them unto young Caesar's camp, which he took. The The second second battle being at hand, this spirit appeared appearing o ^^^LUi unto him, but spake never a word. There- tne spirit unto ^ Brutus. upon Brutus, knowing that he should die, did put himself to all hazard in battle, but yet fighting could not be slain. So seeing his men put to flight and overthrown he ran unto a little rock not far off, and there setting his sword's point to his breast, fell upon it and slew himself; but yet, as it is reported, with the help of his friend that dispatched him. SIR PATRICK SPENS. The king sits in Dunfermline town, Drinking the blood-red wine : " O where will I get a skeely * skipper, To sail this new ship of mine?" O up and spake an eldern * knight. Sat at the king's right knee : 1 skeely, skilful. 2 eldern, old. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS, 105 " Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor That ever sailed the sea." Our king has written a broad letter,^ And sealed it with his hand, And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens, Was walking on the strand. "To Noroway,^ to Noroway, To Noroway o'er the foam; The king's daughter of Noroway, 'Tis thou must bring her home! " The first word that Sir Patrick read, So loud, loud laughed he; The next word that Sir Patrick read, The tear blinded his e'e.* " who is this has done this deed, And told the king o' me, To send us out at this time of the year To sail upon the sea? "Be it wind, be it weet, be it hail, be it sleet, Our ship must sail the foam ; The king's daughter of Noroway, 'Tis we must fetch her home." They hoysed ® their sails on Monenday ^ morn With all the speed they may; They have landed in Noroway Upon a Wodensday.* • broad letter, letter of commission. 6 hoysed, hoisted. * Noroway, Norway. ^ Monenday, Monday. ^ e'e, eye. 8 Wodensday , Wednesday. 106 SIB PATRICK SPENS. They had not been a week, a week In Noroway, but twae,^ When that the lords of Noroway Began aloud to say : "Ye Scottishmen spend all our king's goud,^** And all our queenis " fee." ^^ "Ye lie, ye lie, ye liars loud, Full loud I hear ye lie ! " For I brought as much white monie ^® As gane ^* my men and me, And I brought a half-fou ^^ o' good red goud Out o'er the sea with me. " Make ready, make ready, my merry men all ! Our good ship sails the morn." " Now, ever alack ! my master dear, I fear a deadly storm ! "I saw the new moon, late yestreen,^' With the old moon in her arm; And if we go to sea, master, I fear we'll come to harm." They had not sailed a league, a league, A league, but barely three. When the lift " grew dark, and the wind blew loud. And gurly ^® grew the sea. ^twae, two. M gane, suffice. 1" goud, gold. 16 half-fou, half-bushel. 11 queenis, queen's. i« yestreen, yesterday. 12 /ee, property. 17 lift, air. 18 white monie, silver money. is gurly, stormy. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS, 107 The anchors broke, and the topmasts lap,^* It was such a deadly storm, And the waves came o'er the broken ship, Till all her sides were torn. " where will I get a good sailor, To take my helm in hand, Till I get up to the tall topmast. To see if I can spy land? " "0 here am I, a sailor good. To take the helm in hand. Till you go up to the tall topmast. But I fear you'll ne'er spy land." He had not gone a step, a step, A step, but barely ane,^ When a bolt flew out of our goodly ship, And the salt sea it came in. " Go fetch a web o' the silken cloth. Another o' the twine, And wap them into our ship's side, And let not the sea come in.'' They fetched a web o' the silken cloth Another o' the twine And they wapped them round that good ship's side, But still the sea came in. loth, loth were our good Scots lords To wet their cork-heeled shoon ; ^^ But long ere all the play was played. They wet their hats aboon.^ 1^ lap, sprang. 21 shoon, shoes. *> ane, one. 22 aboon, above. 108 SIR PATRICK SPENS, And many was the feather-bed That flattened on the foam ; And many was the good lord's son That never more came home. The ladies wrang their fingers white, The maidens tore their hair, All for the sake of their true loves, For them they'll see nae mair.'^ long, long may the ladies sit. With their fans into their hand, Before they see Sir Patrick Spens Come sailing to the strand. And long, long may the maidens sit. With their goud kaims ^* in their hair, All waiting for their own dear loves, For them they'll see nae mair. forty miles off Aberdeen 'Tis fifty fathoms deep. And there lies good Sir Patrick Spens, With the Scots lords at his feet. 28 nae mair, no more. ^ kaims, combs. " Whether there is an historical basis for the shipwreck of Scottish nobles which this ballad sings, and if so, where it is to be found, are questions that have been considerably discussed. . . . Motherwell has suggested a suf- ficiently plausible foundation. " Margaret, daughter of Alexander III,, was married in 1281 to Eric, King of Norway. She was conducted to her husband, ' brought home,' in August of that year by many knights and nobles. Many of them were drowned on the return voyage as Sir Patrick Spens is in" the ballad. — "The English and Scottish Popular Ballads," edited by Francis James Child. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS, 109 CHEVY CHASE. God prosper long our noble king, Our lives and safeties all ; A woeful hunting once there did In Chevy Chase befall. To drive the deer with hound and horn Earl Percy took the way ; The child may rue that is unborn The hunting of that day. The stout earl of Northumberland A vow to God did make, His pleasure in the Scottish woods Three summer days to take — The chiefest harts in Chevy Chase To kill and bear away. These tidings to Earl Douglas came In Scotland where he lay ; Who sent Earl Percy present word He would prevent his sport. The English earl not fearing that, Did to the woods resort. With fifteen hundred bowmen bold. All chosen men of might, Who knew full well in time of need To aim their shafts aright. 110 CUEVY CHASE. The gallant grayhoimd swiftly ran To chase the fallow deer ; On Monday they began to hunt Ere daylight did appear ; And long before high noon they had A hundred fat bucks slain ; Then having dined, the drovers went To rouse the deer again. The bowmen mustered on the hills, Well able to endure ; Their backsides all with special care That day were guarded sure. The hounds ran swiftly through the woods, The nimble deer to take, That with their cries the hills and dales An echo shrill did make. Lord Percy to the quarry went To view the tender deerj Quoth he, " Earl Douglas promised once This day to meet me here. " But if I thought he would not come. No longer would I stay ; " With that a brave young gentleman Thus to the earl did say : " Lo, yonder doth Earl Douglas come, His men in armor bright; Full twenty hundred Scottish spears All marching in our sight; THE HEABT OF OAK BOOKS, 111 ^^ All men of pleasant Teviotdale, Fast by the Eiver Tweed/' " cease your sports," Earl Percy said, " And take your bows with speed ; " And now with me, my countrymen, Your courage forth advance, For there was never champion yet. In Scotland or in France, " That ever did on horseback come, And if my hap it were, I durst encounter man for man With him to break a spear." Earl Douglas on his milk-white steed. Most like a baron bold, Kode foremost of his company. Whose armor shone like gold. "Show me," said he, "whose men you be, That hunt so boldly here. That, without my consent, do chase And kill my fallow deer." The first man that did answer make. Was noble Percy he. Who said, " We list not to declare Nor show whose men we be : " Yet will we spend our dearest blood Thy chief est harts to slay." Then Douglas swore a solemn oath, And thus in rage did say : 112 CHEVY CHASE. "Ere thus I will out-braved be, One of us two shall die ; I know thee well, an earl thou art — Lord Percy, so am I. " But trust me, Percy, pity it were, And great offence, to kill Any of these our guiltless men, . For they have done none ill. " Let thou and I the battle try, And set our men aside." " Accurst be he, " Earl Percy said, "By whom it is denied." Then stept a gallant squire forth — Witherington was his name — Who said, " I would not have it told To Henry, our king, for shame, " That e'er my captain fought on foot, And I stood looking on. You be two earls," quoth Witherington, " And I a squire alone ; " I'll do the best that do I may. While I have power to stand ; While I have power to wield my sword, I'll fight with heart and hand." Our English archers bent their bows — Their hearts were good and truej At the first flight of arrows sent. Full fourscore Scots they slew. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS, 113 To drive the deer with hound and horn, Douglas bade on the bent,^ Two captains moved with mickle might, Their spears to shivers went. They closed full fast on every side, No slackness there was found. But many a gallant gentleman Lay gasping on the ground. Christ ! it was great grief to see How each man chose his spear, And how the blood out of their breasts Did gush like water clear. At last these two stout earls did meet Like captains of great might ; Like lions wode,^ they laid on lode; * They made a cruel fight. They fought until they both did sweat. With swords of tempered steel, Till blood down their cheeks like rain They trickling down did feel. " yield thee, Percy ! " Douglas said, "And in faith I will thee bring Where thou shalt high advanced be By James, our Scottish king. "Thy ransom I will freely give. And this report of thee, Thou art the most courageous knight That ever I did see." bent, disposition, inclination. 2 wode, violent, furious. 8 to lay on load, or lode, to attack fiercely. 114 cMj^vt chase. "No, Douglas," quoth Earl Percy then, " Thy proffer I do scorn ; I will not yield to any Scot That ever yet was born/' With that there came an arrow keen, Out of an English bow. Which struck Earl Douglas on the breast A deep and deadly blow. Who never said more words than these : " Fight on, my merry men all ! For why, my life is at an end, Lord Percy sees my fall." Then leaving life. Earl Percy took The dead man by the hand; Who said, " Earl Douglas, for thy life Would I had lost my land ! " Christ ! my very heart doth bleed For sorrow for thy sake. For sure a more redoubted knight Mischance could never take." A knight amongst the Scots there was Which saw Earl Douglas die, Who straight in heart did vow revenge Upon the Lord Percy. Sir Hugh Montgomery was he called, Who, with a spear full bright. Well mounted on a gallant steed. Ran fiercely through the fight, THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 115 And past the English archers all, Without all dread or fear, And through Earl Percy's body then He thrust his hateful spear. With such a vehement force and might His body he did gore, The staff ran through the other side A large cloth-yard, and more. Thus did both those nobles die. Whose courage none could stain; An English archer then perceived The noble earl was slain. He had a good bow in his hand Made of a trusty tree ; An arrow of a cloth-yard long To the hard head haled he. Against Sir Hugh Montgomery His shaft full right he set; The gray-goose-wing that was thereon In his heart's blood was wet. This fight from break of day did last Till setting of the sun, For when they rang the evening-bell The battle scarce was done. With stout Earl Percy there was slain Sir John of Egerton, Sir Robert Harcliff and Sir William, Sir James, that bold baron. 116 CHEVY CHASE. And with Sir George and Sir James, Both knights of good account, Good Sir Ralph Raby there was slain. Whose prowess did surmount. For Witherington needs must I wail As one in doleful dumps. For when his legs were smitten off. He fought upon his stumps. And with Earl Douglas there was slain Sir Hugh Montgomery, And Sir Charles Morrell, that from field One foot would never flee ; Sir Roger Heuer of Harcliff, too. His sister's son was he; Sir David Lambwell, well esteemed, But saved he could not be. And the Lord Maxwell, in like case. With Douglas he did die ; Of twenty hundred Scottish spears, Scarce fifty-five did fly. Of fifteen hundred Englishmen Went home but fifty -three ; The rest in Chevy Chase were slain. Under the greenwood tree. Next day did many widows come Their husbands to bewail ; They washed their wounds in brinish tears, But all would not prevail. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 117 Their bodies, bathed in purple blood, They bore with them away ; They kissed them dead a thousand times Ere they were clad in clay. The news was brought to Edinburgh, Where Scotland's king did reign, That brave Earl Douglas suddenly Was with an arrow slain. " heavy news ! " King James can say, " Scotland may witness be I have not any captain more Of such account as he." Like tidings to King Henry came Within as short a space, That Percy of Northumberland Was slain at Chevy Chase. " Now God be with him ! " said our king, " Since it will no better be ; I trust I have within my realm Five hundred as good as he. " Yet shall not Scots nor Scotland say But I will vengeance take, And be revenged on them all For brave Earl Percy's sake." This vow the king did well perform After on Humble-down; In one day fifty knights were slain With lords of great renown. 118 BEWICK AND GRAHAME. ' And of the rest, of small account, Did many hundreds die : Thus endeth the hunting in Chevy Chase Made by the Earl Percy. God save our king, and bless this land With plenty, joy, and peace. And grant henceforth that foul debate 'Twixt noble men may cease! " The ballad can scarcely be a deliberate fiction. The singer is not a critical historian, but he supposes himself to be dealing with facts; he may be partial to his countrymen, but he has no doubt that he is treating of a real event ; and the singer in this particular case thought he was describing the battle of Otter- burn, the Hunting of the Cheviot being indifferently so called." — " The Eng- lish and Scottish Popular Ballads," edited by Francis James Child, VI., p. 304. ** I never heard the olde song of Percy and Duglas that I found not my heart mooved more then with a trumpet ; and yet it is sung but by some blinde crouder, with no rougher voyce then rude stile: which, being so evill appar- relled in the dust and cobwebbes of that uncivill age, what would it workc trymmed in the gorgeous eloquence of Pindar ! " — " An Apologie for Poetrie,*' by Sir Philip Sidney. BEWICK AND GRAHAME. Old Grahame he is to Carlisle gone, When Sir Robert Bewick there met he; In arms to the wine they are gone. And drank till they were both merry. Old Grahame he took up the cup. And said, "Brother Bewick, here's to thee; And here's to our two sons at home, . For they live best in our country." THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 119 " Nay, were thy son as good as mine, And of some books he could but read, With sword and buckler by his side, To see how he could save his head, " They might have been called two bold brethren Where ever they did go or ride; They might have been called two bold brethren, They might have cracked the Border-side. " Thy son is bad, and is but a lad. And bully ^ to my son cannot be ; For my son Bewick can both write and read. And sure I am that cannot he." " I put him to school, but he would not learn, I bought him books, but he would not read; But my blessing he shall never have Till I see how his hand can save his head." Old Grahame called for an account And he asked what was for to pay; There he paid a crown, so it went round. Which was all for good wine and hay. Old Grahame is into the stable gone. Where stood thirty good steeds and three ; He's taken his own steed by the head. And home rode he right wantonly. When he came home, there did he espy, A loving sight to spy or see. There did he espy his own three sons. Young Christy Grahame, the foremost was he. 1 bully t companion. 120 BEWICK AND GEAHAME. There did he espy his own three sons, Young Christy Grahame, the foremost was he : " Where have you been all day, father. That no counsel you would take by me?" " Nay, I have been in Carlisle town, Where Sir Eobert Bewick there met me ; He said thou was bad, and called thee a lad, And a baffled ^ man by thee I be. " He said thou wast bad, and called thee a lad, And bully to Jiis son cannot be; For his son Bewick can both write and read, And sure I am that cannot thee. ** I put thee to school, but thou wouldst not learn, I bought thee books, but thou wouldst not read; But my blessing thou shalt never have Till I see with Bewick thou can save thy head." "Oh, pray forbear, my father dear; That ever such a thing should be ! Shall I venture my body in field to fight With a man that's faith and troth ^ to me?" "What's that thou sayest, thou limmer* loon? Or how dare thou stand to speak to me? If thou do not end this quarrel soon. Here is my glove, thou shalt fight me." Christy stooped low unto the ground. Unto the ground, as you'll understand : " father, put on your glove again. The wind hath blown it from your hand." 2 baffled, insulted, held as an object of contempt. * troth, truth. * limmer, low, worthless. THE HE ART OF OAK BOOKS. 121 " What's that thou sayst, thou limmer loon? Or how dare thou stand to speak to me? If thou do not end this quarrel soon, Here is my hand, thou shalt fight me." Christy Grahame is to his chamber gone, And for to study, as well might be, Whether to fight with his father dear. Or with his bully Bewick he. " If it be my fortune my bully to kill, As you shall boldly understand, In every town that I ride through. They'll say, 'There rides a brotherless man!' "Nay, for to kill my bully dear, I think it will be a deadly sin; And for to kill my father dear, The blessing of heaven I ne'er shall win. "0 give me your blessing, father," he said, " And pray well for me for to thrive ; If it be my fortune my bully to kill, I swear I'll ne'er come home alive." He put on his back a good plate-jack,® And on his head a cap of steel, With sword and buckler by his side; gin ® he did not become them well ! " fare thee well, my father dear ! And fare thee well, thou Carlisle town! If it be my fortune my bully to kill, 1 swear I'll ne'er eat bread again." '^plate-jack, coat of mail. « gin, if. 122 BEWICK AND GRAHAME. Now we'll leave talking of Christy Grahame, And talk of him again belive ; ' But we will talk of bonny Bewick, Where he was teaching his scholars five. Now when he had learned them well to fence, To handle their swords without any doubt, He's taken his own sword under his arm, And walked his father's close ^ about. He looked between him and the sun, To see what farleys^ he could see; There he spied a man with armor on, As he came riding over the lea. " I wonder much what man yon be That so boldly this way does come; I think it is my nighest friend, I think it is my bully Grahame. " welcome, O welcome, bully Grahame ! O man, thou art my dear, welcome ! O man, thou art my dear, welcome! For I love thee best in Christendom." " Away, away, bully Bewick, And of thy buUyship let me be ! The day is come I never thought on; Bully, I'm come here to fight with thee." " Oh no ! not so, bully Grahame ! That e'er such a word should spoken be! ' belive, fortliwith, speedily. * close, a place surrounded with a fence, wall, or bridge, ^/arleys, strange, unexpected thing. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 123 I was thy master, thou was my scholar : So well as I have learned thee." " My father he was in Carlisle town, When thy father, Bewick, there met he; He said I was bad, and he called me a lad, And a baffled man by thee I be." " Away, away, O bully Grahame, And of all that talk, man, let us be ! We'll take three men of either side To see if we can our fathers agree." ^' Away, away, bully Bewick, And of thy bullyship let me be ! But if thou be a man as I trow ^^ thou art, Come over this ditch and fight with me." " Oh no ! not so, my bully Grahame ! That e'er such a word should spoken be! Shall I venture my body in field to fight With a man that's faith and troth to me?" " Away, away, bully Bewick, And of all that care, man, let us be ! If thou be a man as I trow thou art, Come over this ditch and fight with me." " Now if it be my fortune thee, Grahame, to kill, As God's will's, man, it all must be ; But if it be my fortune thee, Grahame, to kill, 'Tis home again I'll never gae." " Thou art of my mind then, bully Bewick, And sworn -brethren will we be ; 1" trow^ believe, trust. 124 BEWICK AND GRAHAME. If thou be a man, as I trow thou art, Come over this ditch and fight with me." He flung his cloak from off his shoulders. His psalm-book out of his hand flung he, He clapped his hand upon the hedge, And o'er leaped he right wantonly. When Grahame did see his bully come, The salt tear stood long in his eye : "Now needs must I say that thou art a man That dare venture thy body to fight with me, "Now I have a harness on my back; I know that thou hath none on thine; But as little as thou hath on thy back. Sure as little shall there be on mine." He flung his jack from off his back, His steel cap from his head flung he; He's taken his sword into his hand. He's tied his horse unto a tree. Now they fell to it with two broadswords. For two long hours fought Bewick and he ; Much sweat was to be seen on them both, But never a drop of blood to see. Now Grahame gave Bewick an awkward stroke, An awkward stroke surely struck he ; He struck him now under the left breast, Then down to the ground as dead fell he. "Arise, arise, bully Bewick, Arise, and speak three words to me I THE HEABT OF OAK BOOKS. 125 Whether this be thy deadly wound, Or God and good surgeons will mend thee." " horse, horse, bully Grahame, And pray do get thee far from me ! Thy sword is sharp, it hath wounded my heart, And so no further can I gae. " horse, horse, bully Grahame, And get thee far from me with speed! And get thee out of this country quite ! That none may know who's done the deed." " if this be true, my bully dear. The words that thou dost tell to me, The vow I made, and the vow I'll keep; I swear I'll be the first that die." Then he stuck his sword in a moody-hill, ^^ Where he leaped thirty good foot and three ; First he bequeathed his soul to God, And upon his own sword-point leaped he. Now Grahame he was the first that died, And then came Eobin Bewick to see ; " Arise, arise, son ! " he said, " For I see thou hast won the victory. " Arise, arise, son ! " he said, " For I see thou hast won the victory : " " Father, could ye not drunk your wine at home, And letten me and my brother be? " Nay, dig a grave both low and wide. And in it us two pray bury ; 11 moody-hill, mould-hill — hill of earth. 126 BEWICK AND GRAHAME. But bury my bully Grahame on the sun-side, For I'm sure he's won the victory." Now we'll leave talking of these two brethren, In Carlisle town where they lie slain, And talk of these two good old men, When they were making a pitiful moan. With that bespoke now Eobin Bewick : "O man, was I not much to blame? I have lost one of the liveliest lads That ever was bred unto my name." With that bespoke my good lord Grahame : " man, I have lost the better block ; I have lost my comfort and my joy, I have lost my key, I have lost my lock. " Had I gone through all Ladderdale, And forty horse had set on me. Had Christy Grahame been at my back, So well as he would have guarded me." I have no more of my song to sing, But two or three words to you I'll name; But 'twill be talked in Carlisle town That these two old men were all the blame. " The story is so well composed, proportion is so well kept, on the whole, that it is reasonable to suppose that certain passages (as stanzas 3, 4, 50) may have suffered some injury. . . . But it is a fine-spirited ballad as it stands, and very infectious. " * This ballad is remarkable,' observes Sir Walter Scott, ' as containing prob- ably the very latest allusion to the institution of brotherhood in arms.' And he goes on to say : • The quarrel of the two old chieftains over their wine is highly in character. Two generations have not elapsed [1803] since the custom of drinking deep and taking deadly revenge for slight offences produced very tragical events on the border; to which the custom of going armed to festive meetings contributed not a little.' " — "The English and Scottish Popular Ballads," edited by Francis James Child, III., p. 145. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 127 SCOTS, WHA HAE WI' WALLACE BLED. Bohert Bums. Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled, Scots, wham Bruce has aften led. Welcome to your gory bed. Or to Victorie ! Now's the day, and now's the hour ; See the front o' battle lour ; See approach proud Edward's power— Chains and Slaverie ! Wha will be a traitor knave ? Wha can fill a coward's grave ? Wha sae base as be a Slave ? Let him turn and flee ! Wha, for Scotland's King and Law, Freedom's sword will strongly draw, Free-man stand, or Free-man fa', Let him on wi' me ! By Oppression's woes and pains ! By your sons in servile chains ! We will drain our dearest veins. But they shall be free ! Lay the proud Usurpers low ! Tyrants fall in every foe ! Liberty's in every blow ! — Let us Bo — or Die I 128 THE STOBT OF SIR WILLIAM WALLACE. • THE STORY OF SIR WILLIAM WALLACE. From Tales of a Grandfather. Sir Walter Scott. (1296-1306.) I TOLD you, my dear Hugh, that Edward the First of England had reduced Scotland almost entirely to the condition of a con- quered country, although he had obtained possession of the kingdom less by his bravery, than by cunningly taking advan- tage of the disputes and divisions that followed amongst the Scots themselves after the death of Alexander the Third. The English, however, had in point of fact obtained posses- sion of the country, and governed it with much rigor. The Lord High Justice Ormesby called all men to account, who would not take the oath of allegiance to King Edward. Many of the Scots refused this, as what the English King had no right to demand from them. Such persons were called into the courts of justice, fined, deprived of their estates, and otherwise severely punished. Then Hugh Cressingham, the English Treasurer, tormented the Scottish nation, by collect- ing money from them under various pretexts. The Scots were always a poor people, and their native kings had treated them with much kindness, and seldom required them to pay any taxes. They were, therefore, extremely enraged at finding themselves obliged to pay to the English Treasurer much larger sums of money than their own good kings had ever demanded from them; and they became exceedingly dissatisfied. Besides these modes of oppression, the English soldiers, who, I told you, had been placed in garrison in the different castles of Scotland, thought themselves masters of the coun- THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 129 try, treated the Scots with great contempt, took from them by main force whatever they had a fancy to, and if the owners offered to resist, abused them, beat and wounded and some- times killed them; for which acts of violence the English officers did not check or punish their soldiers. Scotland was, therefore, in great distress, and the inhabitants, exceedingly enraged, only wanted some leader to command them, to rise up in a body against the English, or Southern men, as they called them, and recover the liberty and independence of their country, which had been destroyed by Edward the First. Such a leader arose in the person of William Wallace, whose name is still so often mentioned in Scotland. It is a great pity we do not know exactly the history of this brave man; for, at the time when he lived, every one was so busy fighting, that there was no person to write down the history of what took place; and afterwards, when, there wgte more leisure for composition, the truths that were collected were greatly mingled with falsehood. What I shall tell you of him, is generally believed to be true. William Wallace was none of the high nobles of Scotland, but the son of a private gentleman, called Wallace of Ellers- lie, in Kenfrewshire, near Paisley. He was very tall and handsome, and one of the strongest and bravest men that ever lived. He had a very fine countenance, with a quantity of fair hair, and was particularly dexterous in the use of all weapons which were then employed in battle. Wallace, like all Scotsmen of high spirit, had looked with great indignation upon the usurpation of the crown by Edward, and upon the insolencies which the English soldiers committed on his countrymen. It is said, that when he was very young, he went a-fishing for sport in the river of Irvine, near Ayr. He had caught a good many trouts, which were carried by a boy, who attended him with a fishing -basket, as is usual with 130 THE STORY OF SIR WILLIAM WALLACE. anglers. Two or three English soldiers, who belonged to the garrison of Ayr, came up to Wallace, and insisted, with their usual insolence, on taking the fish from the boy. Wallace was contented to allow them a part of the trouts, but he refused to part with the whole basketful. The soldiers insisted, and from words came to blows. Wallace had no better weapon than the but-end of his fishing-rod; but he struck the foremost of the Englishmen so hard under the ear with it that he killed him on the spot ; and getting possession of the slain man's sword, he fought with so much fury that he put the others to flight, and brought home his fish safe and sound. The English governor of Ayr sought for him, to punish him with death for this action; but Wallace lay con- cealed among the hills and great woods till the matter was forgotten, and then appeared in another part of the country. He is said to ha^e had other adventures of the same kind, in which he gallantly defended himself, sometimes when alone, sometimes with very few companions, against superior num- bers of the English, until at last his name became generally known as a terror to them. But the action which occasioned his finally rising in arms, is believed to have happened in the town of Lanark. Wallace was at this time married to a lady of that place, and residing there with his wife. It chanced, as he walked in the market- place, dressed in a green garment, with a rich dagger by his side, that an Englishman came up and insulted him on account of his finery, saying a Scotsman had no business to wear so gay a dress, or carry so handsome a weapon. It soon came to a quarrel, as on many former occasions; and Wallace, having killed the Englishman, fled to his own house, which was speedily assaulted by all the English soldiers. While they were endeavoring to force their way in at the front of the house, Wallace escaped by a back-door, and got in safety to a THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 131 rugged and rocky glen, near Lanark, called the Cartland Crags, all covered with bushes and trees, and full of high precipices, where he knew he should be safe from the pursuit of the English soldiers.^ In the meantime, the governor of Lanark, whose name was Hazelrigg, burned Wallace's house, and put his wife and servants to death; and by committing this cruelty, increased to the highest pitch, as you may well believe, the hatred which the champion had always borne against the English usurper. Hazelrigg also proclaimed Wallace an outlaw, and offered a reward to any one who should bring him to an English garrison, alive or dead. On the other hand, Wallace soon collected a body of men, outlawed like himself, or willing to become so, rather than any longer endure the oppression of the English. One of his earliest expeditions was directed against Hazelrigg, whom he killed, and thus- avenged the death of his wife. He fought skirmishes with the soldiers who were sent against him, and often defeated them ; and in time became so well known and so formidable, that multitudes began to resort to his standard, until at length he was at the head of a considerable army, with which he proposed to restore his country to inde- pendence. About this time is said to have taken place a memorable event, which the Scottish people called the Bariis of Ayr. It is alleged that the English governor of Ayr had invited the greater part of the Scottish nobility and gentry in the western parts, to meet him- at some large buildings called the Barns of Ayr, for the purpose of friendly conference upon the affairs of the nation. But the English Earl entertained the treacher- ous purpose of putting the Scottish gentlemen to death. The English soldiers had halters with running nooses ready pre- 1 In the western face of the chasm of Cartland Crags a cave is pointed out by tradition as having been the hiding-place of Wallace. 182 THE STORY OF SIB WILLIAM WALLACE. pared, and hung upon the beams which supported the roof; and as the Scottish gentlemen were admitted by two and two at a time, the nooses were thrown over their heads, and they were pulled up by the neck, and thus hanged or strangled to death. Among those who were slain in this base and treacher- ous manner, was, it is said. Sir Reginald Crawford. Sheriff of the county of Ayr, and uncle to William Wallace. When Wallace heard of what had befallen, he was dread- fully enraged, and collecting his men in a wood near the town of Ayr, he resolved to be revenged on the authors of this great crime. The English in the meanwhile made much feasting, and when they had eaten and drank plentifully, they lay down to sleep in the same large barns in which they had murdered the Scottish gentlemen. But Wallace, learning that they kept no guard or watch, not suspecting there were any enemies so near them, directed a woman who knew the place, to mark with chalk the doors of the lodgings where the Englishmen lay. Then he sent a party of men, who, with strong ropes, made all the doors so fast on the outside, that those within could not open them. On the outside the Scots had prepared heaps of straw, to which they set fire, and the Barns of Ayr, being themselves made of wood, were soon burning in a bright flame. Then the English were awakened, and endeavored to get out to save their lives. But the doors, as I told you, were secured on the outside, and bound fast with ropes ; and, besides, the blazing houses were surrounded by the Scots, who forced those who got out to run back into the fire, or else put them to death on the spot ; and thus great numbers perished miserably. Many of the English were lodged in a convent, but they had no better fortune than the others; for the Prior of the convent caused all the friars to arm themselves, and, attacking the English guests, they put most of them to the sword. This was called the "Friar of THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS, 133 Ayr's Blessing." We cannot tell if this story of the Barns of Ayr be exactly true ; but it is probable there is some founda- tion for it, as it is universally believed in that country. Thus Wallace's party grew daily stronger and stronger, and many of the Scottish nobles joined with him. Among these was Sir William Douglas, the Lord of Douglasdale, and the head of a great family often mentioned in Scottish history. There was also Sir John the Grahame, who became Wallace's bosom friend and greatest confident. Many of these great noblemen, however, deserted the cause of the country on the approach of John de Warenne, Earl of Surrey, the English governor, at the head of a numerous and well-appointed army. They thought that Wallace would be unable to withstand the attack of so many disciplined soldiers and hastened to submit themselves to the English, for fear of losing their estates. Wallace, however, remained undismayed, and at the head of a considerable army. He had taken up his camp upon the northern side of the river Forth, near the town of Stirling. The river was there crossed by a long wooden bridge, about a mile above the spot where the present bridge is situated. The English general approached the banks of the river on the southern side. He sent two clergymen to offer a pardon to Wallace and his followers, on condition that they should lay down their arms. But such was not the purpose of the high-minded champion of Scotland. "Go back to Warenne," said Wallace, "and tell him we value not the pardon of the King of England. We are not here for the purpose of treating of peace, but of abiding battle, and restoring freedom to our country. Let the Eng- lish come on ; — we defy them to their very beards ! " The English, upon hearing this haughty answer, called loudly to be led to the attack. The Earl of Surrey hesitated, for he was a skilful soldier, and he saw that to approach the 134 THE STOBY OF SIR WILLIAM WALLACE, Scottish army, his troops must pass over the long, narrow wooden bridge; so that those who should get over first might be attacked by Wallace with all his forces, before those who remained behind could possibly come to their assistance. He therefore inclined to delay the battle. But Cressingham the Treasurer, who was ignorant and presumptuous, insisted that it was their duty to fight, and put an end to the war at once; and Surrey gave way to his opinion, although Cressingham, being a churchman, could not be so good a judge of what was fitting as he himself, an experienced officer. The English army began to cross the bridge, Cressingham leading the van, or foremost division of the army; for, in those military days, even clergymen wore armor and fought in battle. That took place which Surrey had foreseen. Wallace suffered a considerable part of the English army to pass the bridge, without offering any opposition; but when about one- half were over, and the bridge was crowded with those who were following, he charged those who had crossed with his whole strength, slew a very great number, and drove the rest into the river Forth, where the greater part were drowned. The remainder of the English army, who were left on the southern bank of the river, fled in great confusion, having first set fire to the wooden bridge, that the Scots might not pursue them. Cressingham was killed in the very beginning of the battle; and the Scots detested him so much, that they flayed the skin from his dead body, and kept pieces of it, in memory of the revenge they had taken upon the English Treas- urer. Some say they made saddle-girths of this same skin; a purpose for which I do not think it could be very fit. It must be owned to have been a dishonorable thing of the Scots to insult thus the dead body of their enemy, and shows that they must have been then a ferocious and barbarous people. The remains of Surrey's great army fled out of Scotland THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 135 after this defeat, and the Scots, taking arms on all sides, attacked the castles in which the English soldiers continued to shelter themselves, and took most of them by force or stratagem. Many wonderful stories are told of Wallace's exploits on these occasions, some of which are no doubt true, while others are either invented or very much exaggerated. It seems certain, however, that he defeated the English in several combats, chased them almost entirely out of Scotland, regained the towns and castles of which they had possessed themselves, and recovered for a time the complete freedom of the country. He even marched into England and laid Cum- berland and Northumberland waste, where the Scottish sol- diers, in revenge for the mischief which the English had done in their country, committed great cruelties. Wallace did not approve of their killing the people who were not in arms, and he endeavored to protect the clergymen and others who were not able to defend themselves. "Remain with me," he said to the priests of Hexham, a large town in Northumberland, "for I cannot protect you from my soldiers when you are out of my presence." — The troops who followed Wallace received no pay, because he had no money to give them, and that was one great reason why he could not keep them under restraint, or prevent their doing much harm to the defenceless country people. He remained in England more than three weeks, and did a great deal of mischief to the country. Indeed, it appears that, though Wallace disapproved of slaying priests, women, and children, he partook of the feroc- ity of the times so much, as to put to death without quarter all whom he found in arms. In the north of Scotland the English had placed a garrison in the strong Castle of Dunnot- tar, which, built on a large and precipitous rock, overhangs the raging sea. Though the place is almost inaccessible, Wallace and his followers found their way into the castle, 136 THE STORY OF SIR WILLIAM WALLACE. while the garrison in great terror fled into the church or chapel, which was built on the very verge of the precipice. This did not save them, for Wallace caused the church to be set on fire. The terrified garrison, involved in the flames, ran some of them upon the points of the Scottish swords, while others threw themselves from the precipice into the sea and swam along to the cliffs, where they hung like sea-fowl, screaming in vain for mercy and assistance. The followers of Wallace were frightened at this dreadful scene, and falling on their knees before the priests who chanced to be in the army, they asked forgiveness for having committed so much slaughter within the limits of a church dedicated to the service of God. But Wallace had so deep a sense of the injuries which the English had donie to his coun- try that he only laughed at the contrition of his soldiers. — "I will absolve you all myself," he said. "Are you Scottish soldiers, and do you repent for a trifle like this, which is not half what the invaders deserved at our hands?'' So deep- seated was Wallace's feeling of national resentment that it seems to have overcome, in such instances, the scruples of a temper which was naturally humane. Edward I. was in Flanders when all these events took place. You may suppose he was very angry when he learned that Scotland, which he thought completely subdued, had risen into a great insurrection against him, defeated his armies, killed his Treasurer, chased his soldiers out of their country, and invaded England with a great force. He came back from Flanders in a mighty rage, and determined not to leave that rebellious country until it was finally conquered, for which purpose he assembled a very fine army and marched into Scotland. In the meantime the Scots prepared to defend themselves, and chose Wallace to be Governor, or Protector of the king- THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 137 dom, because they had no King at the time. He was now titled Sir William Wallace, Protector, or Governor, of the Scottish nation. But although Wallace, as we have seen, was the best soldier and bravest man in Scotland, and therefore the most fit to be placed in command at this critical period, when the King of England was coming against them with such great forces, yet the nobles of Scotland envied him this important situation, because he was not a man born in high rank, or enjoying a large estate. So great was their jealousy of Sir William Wallace, that many of these great barons did not seem very willing to bring forward their forces, or fight against the English, because they would not have a man of inferior condition to be general. This was base and mean conduct, and it was attended with great disasters to Scotland. Yet, notwithstanding this unwillingness of the great nobility to support him, Wallace assembled a large army ; for the mid- dling, but especially the lower classes, were very much attached to him. He marched boldly against the King of England, and met him near the town of Falkirk. Most of the Scottish army were on foot, because, as I already told you, in those days only the nobility and great men of Scotland fought on horseback. The English King, on the contrary, had a very large body of the finest cavalry in the world, Normans and English, all clothed in complete armor. He had also the celebrated archers of England, each of whom was said to carry twelve Scotsmen's lives under his girdle; because every archer had twelve arrows stuck in his belt, and was expected to kill a man with every arrow. The Scots had some good archers from the Forest of Ettrick, who fought under command of Sir John Stewart of Bonkill ; but they were not nearly equal in number to the English. The greater part of the Scottish army were on foot, armed with long spears; they were placed thick and close 138 THE STORY OF SIB WILLIAM WALLACE. together, and laid all their spears so close, point over point, that it seemed as difficult to break through them, as through the wall of a strong castle. When the two armies were drawn up facing each other, Wallace said to his soldiers, " I have brought you to the ring, let me see how you can dance ; " meaning, I have brought you to the decisive field of battle, let me see how bravely you can fight. The English made the attack. King Edward, though he saw the close ranks, and undaunted appearance, of the Scottish infantry, resolved nevertheless to try whether he could not ride them down with his fine cavalry. He there- fore gave his horsemen orders to advance. They charged accordingly, at full gallop. It must have been a terrible thing to have seen these fine horses riding as hard as they could against the long lances, which were held out by the Scots to keep them back; and a dreadful cry arose when they came against each other. The first line of cavalry was commanded by the Earl Marshal of England, whose progress was checked by a morass. The second line of English horse was commanded by Antony Beck, the Bishop of Durham, who, nevertheless, wore armor, and fought like a lay baron. He wheeled round the morass; but when he saw the deep and firm order of the Scots, his heart failed, and he proposed to Sir Ralph Basset of Drayton, who commanded under him, to halt till Edward himself brought up the reserve. "Go say your mass, Bishop," answered Basset contemptuously, and advanced at full gallop with the second line. However, the Scots stood their ground with their long spears ; many of the foremost of the English horses were thrown down, and the riders were killed as they lay rolling, unable to rise, owing to the weight of their heavy armor. But the Scottish horse did not come to the assistance of their infantry, but, on the contrary, fled away from the THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 139 battle. It is supposed that this was owing to the treachery or ill-will of the nobility, who were jealous of Wallace. But it must be considered that the Scottish cavalry were few in number; and that they had much worse arms, and weaker horses, than their enemies. The English cavalry attempted again and again to disperse the deep and solid ranks in which Wallace had stationed his foot soldiers. But they were repeatedly beaten off with loss, nor could they make their way through that wood of spears, as it is called by one of the English historians. King Edward then commanded his archers to advance ; and these approaching within arrow-shot of the Scottish ranks, poured on them such close and dread- ful volleys of arrows, that it was impossible to sustain the discharge. It happened at the same time, that Sir John Stewart was killed by a fall from his horse ; and the archers of Ettrick Forest, whom he was bringing forward to oppose those of King Edward, were slain in great numbers around him. Their bodies were afterwards distinguished among the slain, as being the tallest and handsomest men of the army. The Scottish spearmen being thus thrown into some degree of confusion, by the loss of those who were slain by the arrows of the English, the heavy cavalry of Edward again charged with more success than formerly, and broke through the ranks, which were already disordered. Sir John Gra- hame, Wallace's great friend and companion, was slain, with many other brave soldiers ; and the Scots, having lost a very great number of men, were at length obliged to take to flight. This fatal battle was fought upon the twenty-second of July, 1298. Sir John the Grahame lies buried in the churchyard of Falkirk. A tombstone was laid over him, which has been three times renewed since his death. The inscription bears, " That Sir John the Grahame, equally remarkable for wisdom and courage, and the faithful friend of Wallace, being slain iu 140 THE STORY OF SIB WILLIAM WALLACE, battle by the English, lies buried in this place." A large oak- tree -in the adjoining forest was long shown as marking the spot where Wallace slept before the battle, or, as others said, in which he hid himself after the defeat. Nearly forty years ago, Grandpapa saw some of its roots j but the body of the tree was even then entirely decayed, and there is not now, and has not been for many years, the least vestige of it to be seen. After this fatal defeat of Falkirk, Sir William Wallace seems to have resigned his office of Governor of Scotland. Several nobles were named Guardians in his place, and con- tinued to make resistance to the English armies; and they gained some advantages, particularly near Eoslin, where a body of Scots, commanded by John Comyn of Badenoch, who was one of the Guardians of the kingdom, and another dis- tinguished commander, called Simon Eraser, defeated three armies, or detachments, of English in one day. Nevertheless, the King of England possessed so much wealth, and so many means of raising soldiers, that he sent army after army into the poor oppressed country of Scotland, and obliged all its nobles and great men, one after another, to submit themselves once more to his yoke. Sir William Wallace, alone, or with a very small band of followers, refused either to acknowledge the usurper Edward, or to lay down his arms. He continued to maintain himself among the woods and mountains of his native country for no less than seven years after his defeat at Falkirk, and for more than one year after all the other defenders of Scottish liberty had laid down their arms. Many proclamations were sent out against him by the English, and a great reward was set upon his head; for Edward did not think he could have any secure possession of his usurped kingdom of Scotland while Wallace lived. At length he was taken prisoner; and, THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 141 shame it is to say, a Scotsman, called Sir John Menteith, was the person by whom he was seized and delivered to the Eng- lish. It is generally said that he was made prisoner at Eobroyston, near Glasgow; and the tradition of the country bears, that the signal made for rushing upon him and taking him at unawares, was, when one of his pretended friends, who betrayed him, should turn a loaf, which was placed on the table, with its bottom or flat side uppermost. And in after times it was reckoned ill -breeding to turn a loaf in that manner, if there was a person named Menteith in company; since it was as much as to remind him, that his namesake had betrayed Sir William Wallace, the Champion of Scotland. Whether Sir John Menteith was actually the person by whom Wallace was betrayed, is not perfectly certain. He was, however, the individual by whom the patriot was made prisoner and delivered up to the English, for which his name and his memory have been long loaded with disgrace. Edward, having thus obtained possession of the person whom he considered as the greatest obstacle to his complete conquest of Scotland, resolved to make Wallace an example to all Scottish patriots who should in future venture to oppose his ambitious projects. He caused this gallant defender of his country to be brought to trial in Westminster-hall, before the English judges, and produced him there, crowned in mockery, with a green garland, because they said he had been king of outlaws and robbers among the Scottish woods. Wallace was accused of having been a traitor to the English crown; to which he answered, "I could not be a traitor to Edward, for I was never his subject." He was then charged with having taken and burnt towns and castles, with having killed many men and done much violence. He replied, with the same calm resolution, " that it was true he had killed very many Englishmen, but it was because they had come to sub- 142 THE STORY OF SIR WILLIAM WALLACE. due and oppress his native country of Scotland; and far from repenting what he had done, he declared he was only sorry that he had not put to death many more of them." Notwithstanding that Wallace's defence was a good one, both in law and in common sense, (for surely every one has not only a right to fight in defence of his native country, but is bound in duty to do so, ) the English judges condemned him to be executed. So this brave patriot was dragged upon a sledge to the place of execution, where his head was struck off, and his body divided into four quarters, which, according to the cruel custom of the time, were exposed upon spikes of iron on London Bridge, and were termed the limbs of a traitor. No doubt King Edward thought that by exercising this great severity towards so distinguished a patriot as Sir William Wallace, he should terrify all the Scots into obedi- ence, and so be able in future to reign over their country without resistance. But though Edward was a powerful, a brave, and a wise king, and though he took the most cautious, as well as the most strict measures, to preserve the obedience of Scotland, yet his claim, being founded in injustice and usurpation, was not permitted by Providence to be established in security or peace. Sir William Wallace, that immortal supporter of the independence of his country, was no sooner deprived of his life, in the cruel and unjust manner 1 have told you, than other patriots arose to assert the cause of Scottish liberty. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 143 THE RISE OF ROBERT THE BRUCE. (1305-1310.) I HOPE, my dear child, that you have not forgotten that all the cruel wars in Scotland arose out of the debate between the great lords who claimed the throne after King Alexander the Third's death, which induced the Scottish nobility rashly to submit the decision of that matter to King Edward of Eng- land, and thus opened the way to his endeavoring to seize the kingdom of Scotland to himself. You recollect also, that Edward had dethroned John Baliol, on account of his attempt- ing to restore the independence of Scotland; and that Baliol had resigned the crown of Scotland into the hands of Edward as Lord Paramount. This John Baliol, therefore, was very little respected in Scotland; he had renounced the kingdom, and had been absent from it for fifteen years, during the greater part of which time he remained a prisoner in the hands of the King of England. It was therefore natural that such of the people as were still determined to fight for the deliverance of their country from the English yoke, should look around for some other king, under whom they might unite themselves, to combat the power of England. The feeling was universal in Scot- land, that they would not any longer endure the English gov- ernment ; and therefore such great Scottish nobles as believed they had right to the crown, began to think of standing for- ward to claim it. Amongst these, the principal candidates (supposing John Baliol, by his renunciation and captivity, to have lost all right to the kingdom) were two powerful noblemen. The first was Robert Bruce, Earl of Carrick, the grandson of that elder Robert Bruce, who disputed the throne with 144 THE RISE OF BOBERT THE BRUCE, John Baliol. The other was John Comyn, or Cuming, of Badenoch, usually called the Eed Comyn, to distinguish him from his kinsman, the Black Comyn, so named from his swarthy complexion. These two great and powerful barons had taken part with Sir William Wallace in the wars against England; but, after the defeat of Falkirk, being fearful of losing their great estates, and considering the freedom of Scotland as beyond the possibility of being recovered, both Bruce and Comyn had not only submitted themselves to Edward, and acknowledged his title as King of Scotland, but even borne arms, along with the English, against such of their countrymen as still continued to resist the usurper. But the feelings of Bruce concerning the baseness of this conduct, are said, by the old tradition of Scotland, to have been awak- ened by the following incident. In one of the numerous battles, or skirmishes, which took place at the time between the English and their adherents on the one side, and the insurgent or patriotic Scots upon the other, Robert the Bruce was present, and assisted the English to gain the victory. After the battle was over, he sat down to dinner among his southern friends and allies, without washing his hands, on which there still remained spots of the blood which he had shed during the action. The English lords, observing this, whispered to each other, in mockery, " Look at that Scotsman, who is eating his own blood! " Bruce heard what they said, and began to reflect that the blood upon his hands might be indeed called his own, since it was that of his brave country- men, who were fighting for the independence of Scotland, whilst he was assisting its oppressors, who only laughed at and mocked him for his unnatural conduct. He was so much shocked and disgusted, that he arose from table, and, going into a neighboring chapel, shed many tears, and asking pardon of God for the great crime he had been guilty of, made a THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 145 solemn vow that he would atone for it, by doing all in his power to deliver Scotland from the foreign yoke. Accord- ingly, he left, it is said, the English army, and never joined it again, but remained watching an opportunity for restoring the freedom of his country. Now, this Robert the Bruce was a remarkably brave and strong man ; there was no man in Scotland that was thought a match for him except Sir William Wallace ; and now that Wallace was dead, Bruce was held the best warrior in Scot- land. He was very wise and prudent, and an excellent gen- eral; that is, he knew how to conduct an army, and place them in order for battle, as well or better than any great man of his time. He was generous, too, and courteous by nature ; but he had some faults, which perhaps belonged as much to the fierce period in which he lived as to his own character. He was rash and passionate, and in his passion, he was sometimes relentless and cruel. Robert the Bruce had fixed his purpose, as I told you, to attempt once again to drive the English out of Scotland, and he desired to prevail upon Sir John the Red Comyn, who was his rival in his pretensions to the throne, to join with him in expelling the foreign enemy by their common efforts. With this purpose, Bruce posted down from London to Dumfries, on the borders of Scotland, and requested an interview with John Comyn. They met in the church of the Minorites in that town, before the high altar. What passed betwixt them is not known with certainty; but they quarrelled, either con- cerning their mutual pretensions to the crown, or because Comyn refused to join Bruce in the proposed insurrection against the English; or, as many writers say, because Bruce charged Comyn with having betrayed to the English his pur- pose of rising up against King Edward. It is, however, certain, that these two haughty barons came to high and 146 THE RISE OF ROBERT THE BRUCE. abusive words, until at length Bruce, who I told you was extremely passionate, forgot the sacred character of the place in which they stood, and struck Comyn a blow with his dagger. Having done this rash deed, he instantly ran out of the church and called for his horse. Two gentlemen of the country, Lindesay and Kirkpatrick, friends of Bruce, were then in attendance on him. Seeing him pale, bloody, and in much agitation, they eagerly inquired what was the matter. "I doubt," said Bruce, "that I have slain the Red Comyn." "Do you leave such a matter in doubt?" said Kirkpatrick. " I will make sicker ! " — that is, I will make certain. Accordingly, he and his companion Lindesay rushed into the church, and made the matter certain with a vengeance, by dispatching the wounded Comyn with their daggers. His uncle. Sir Eobert Comyn, was slain at the same time. This slaughter of Comyn was a rash and cruel action; and the historian of Bruce observes, that it was followed by the displeasure of Heaven; for no man ever went through more misfortunes than Robert Bruce, although he at length rose to great honor. After the deed was done, Bruce might be called desperate. He had committed an action which was sure to bring down upon him the vengeance of all Comyn's relations, the resent- ment of the King of England, and the displeasure of the Church, on account of having slain his enemy within conse- crated ground. He determined, therefore, to bid them all defiance at once, and to assert his pretensions to the throne of Scotland. He drew his own followers together, summoned to meet him such barons as still entertained hopes of the freedom of the country, and was crowned King at the Abbey of Scone, the usual place where the Kings of Scotland assumed their authority. Everything relating to the ceremony was hastily performed. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 147 A small circlet of gold was hurriedly made, to represent the ancient crown of Scotland, which Edward had carried off to England. The Earl of Fife, descendant of the brave Macduff, whose duty it was to have placed the crown on the King's head, would not give his attendance, but the ceremonial was performed by his sister, Isabella, Countess of Buchan, though without the consent either of her brother or husband. A few barons, whose names ought to be dear to their country, joined Bruce in his attempt to vindicate the independence of Scotland. Edward was dreadfully incensed when he heard that, after all the pains which he had taken, and all the blood which had been spilled, the Scots were making this new attempt to shake off his authority. Though now old, feeble, and sickly, he made a solemn vow, at a great festival, in presence of all his court, that he would take the most ample vengeance upon Eobert the Bruce and his adherents; after which he would never again draw his sword upon a Christian, but would only fight against the unbelieving Saracens for the recovery of the Holy Land. He marched against Bruce accordingly, at the head of a powerful army. The commencement of Bruce 's undertaking was most dis- astrous. He was crowned on the twenty-ninth of March, 1306. On the eighteenth of May he was excommunicated by the Pope, on account of the murder of Comyn within consecrated ground, a sentence which excluded him from all benefits of religion, and authorized any one to kill him. Finally, on the nineteenth of June, the new King was completely defeated near Methven by the English Earl of Pembroke. Kobert's horse was killed under him in the action, and he was for a moment a prisoner. But he had fallen into the power of a Scottish knight, who, though he served in the English army, did not choose to be the instrument of putting Bruce into 148 THE RISE OF ROBERT THE BRUCE. their hands, and allowed him to escape. The conquerors ex- ecuted their prisoners with their usual cruelty. Among these were some gallant young men of the first Scottish families — Hay, ancestor of the Earls of Errol, Somerville, Eraser, and others, who were mercilessly put to death. Bruce, with a few brave adherents, among whom was the young Lord of Douglas, who was afterwards called the Good Lord James, retired into the Highland mountains, where they were chased from one place of refuge to another, often in great danger, and suffering many hardships. The Bruce 's wife, now Queen of Scotland, with several other ladies, accom- panied her husband and his few followers during their wan- derings. There was no other way of providing for them save by hunting and fishing. It was remarked, that Douglas was the most active and successful in procuring for the unfor- tunate ladies such supplies, as his dexterity in fishing or in killing deer could furnish to them. Driven from one place in the Highlands to another, starved out of some districts, and forced from others by the opposi- tion of the inhabitants, Bruce attempted to force his way into Lorn; but he found enemies everywhere. The M'Dougals, a powerful family, then called Lords of Lorn, were friendly to the English, and putting their men in arms, attacked Bruce and his wandering companions as soon as they attempted to enter their territory. The chief to these M'Dougals, called John of Lorn, hated Bruce on account of his having slain the Eed Comyn in the church at Dumfries, to whom this M'Dou- gal was nearly related. Bruce was again defeated by this chief, through force of numbers, at a place called Dairy; but he showed, amidst his misfortunes, the greatness of his strength and courage. He directed his men to retreat through a narrow pass, and placing himself last of the party, he fought with and slew such of the enemy as attempted to THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 149 press hard on them. Three followers of M'Dougal, a father and two sons, called M'Androsser, all very strong men, when they saw Bruce thus protecting the retreat of his followers, made a vow that they would either kill this redoubted cham- pion, or make him prisoner. The whole three rushed on the King at once. Bruce was on horseback, in the strait pass we have described, betwixt a precipitous rock and a deep lake. He struck the first man who came up and seized his horse's rein, such a blow with his sword, as cut • off his hand and freed the bridle. The man bled to death. The other brother had grasped Bruce in the meantime by the leg, and was attempting to throw him from horseback. The King, setting spurs to his horse, made the animal suddenly spring forward, so that the Highlander fell under the horse's feet, and, as he was endeavoring to rise again, Bruce cleft his head in two with his sword. The father, seeing his two sons thus slain, flew desperately at the King, and grasped him by the mantle so close to his body, that he could not have room to wield his long sword. But with the heavy pommel of that weapon, or, as others say, with an iron hammer which hung at his saddle- bow, the King struck this third assailant so dreadful a blow, that he dashed out his brains. Still, however, the High- lander kept his dying grasp on the King's mantle; so that, to be free of the dead body, Bruce was obliged to undo the brooch, or clasp, by which it was fastened, and leave that, and the mantle itself, behind him. The brooch, which fell thus into the possession of M'Dougal of Lorn, is still pre- served in that ancient family, as a memorial that the cele- brated Kobert Bruce once narrowly escaped falling into the hands of their ancestor. ^ Eobert greatly resented this attack ^ 2 ** Barbour adds the following circumstance, highly characteristic of the sentiments of chivalry. MacNaughton, a Baron of Cowal, pointed out to the Lord of Lorn the deeds of valor which Bruce performed on this memorable retreat, with the highest expression of admiration. 'It seems to give thee 150 THE RISE OF BOBERT THE BBUCE. upon him; and when he was in happier circumstances, did not fail to take his revenge on M'Dougal, or, as he- is usually called, John of Lorn. The King met with many such encounters amidst his dangerous and dismal wanderings; yet, though almost always defeated by the superior numbers of the English, and of such Scots as sided with them, he still kept up his own spirits and those of his followers. He was a better scholar than was usual in those days, when, except clergymen, few people leairned to read and write. But King Robert could do both very well; and we are told that he sometimes read aloud to his companions, to amuse them when they were crossing the great Highland lakes in such wretched leaky boats as they could find for that purpose. Loch Lomond, in particular, is said to have been the scene of such a lecture. You may see by this, how useful it is to possess knowledge and accom- plishments. If Bruce could not have read to his associates, and diverted their thoughts from their dangers and sufferings, he might not perhaps have been able to keep up their spirits, or secure their continued attachment. At last dangers increased so much around the brave King Robert, that he was obliged to separate himself from his Queen and her ladies; for the winter was coming on, and it would be impossible for the women to endure this wandering sort of life when the frost and snow should set in. So Bruce left his Queen, with the Countess of Buchan and others, in the only castle which remained to him, which was called Kildrummie, and is situated near the head of the river Don pleasure,' said Lorn, * that he makes such havoc among our friends.' * Not so, by my faith,' replied MacNaughton ; ' but be he friend or foe who achieves high deeds of chivalry, men should bear faithful witness to his valor; and never have I heard of one who, by his knightly feats, has extricated himself from such dangers as have this day surrounded Bruce.' " — Lord of the Isles, Note to Canto II., iStanza XI. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS, 151 in Aberdeenshire. The King also left his youngest brother, Nigel Bruce, to defend the castle against the English; and he himself, with his second brother Edward, who was a very- brave man, but still more rash and passionate than Robert himself, went over to an island called Eachrin, on the coast of Ireland, where Bruce and the few men who followed his fortunes passed the winter of 1306. In the meantime, ill luck seemed to pursue all his friends in Scotland. The castle of Kildrummie was taken by the English, and Nigel Bruce, a beautiful and brave youth, was cruelly put to death by the victors. The ladies who had attended on Robert's Queen, as well as the Queen herself, and the Countess of Buchan, were thrown into strict confinement, and treated with the utmost severity. The Countess of Buchan, as I before told you, had given Edward great offence by being the person who placed the crown on the head of Robert Bruce. She was imprisoned within the Castle of Berwick, in a cage made on purpose. Some Scottish authors have pretended that this cage was hung over the walls with the poor Countess, like a parrot's cage out at a window. But this is their own ignorant idea. The cage of the Lady Buchan was a strong wooden and iron piece of f rame-Avork, placed within an apartment, and resembling one of those places in which wild-beasts are confined. There were such cages in most old prisons to which captives were consigned, who, either for mutiny, or any other reason, were to be confined with peculiar rigor. The news of the taking of Kildrummie, the captivity of his wife, and the execution of his brother, reached Bruce while he was residing in a miserable dwelling at Rachrin, and reduced him to the point of despair. It was about this time that an incident took place, which, although it rests only on tradition in families of the name of 162 THE RISE OF ROBERT THE BRUCE. Bruce, is rendered probable by the manners of the times. After receiving the last unpleasing intelligence from Scot- land, Bruce was lying one morning on his wretched bed, and deliberating with himself whether he had not better resign all thoughts of again attempting to make good his right to the Scottish crown, and, dismissing his followers, transport him- self and his brothers to the Holy Land, and spend the rest of his life in fighting against the Saracens; by which he thought, perhaps, he might deserve the forgiveness of Heaven for the great sin of stabbing Comyn in the church at Dum- fries. But then, on the other hand, he thought it would be both criminal and cowardly to give up his attempts to restore freedom to Scotland while there yet remained the least chance of his being successful in an undertaking, which, rightly considered, was much more his duty than to drive the infidels out of Palestine, though the superstition of his age might think otherwise. While he was divided betwixt these reflections, and doubt- ful of what he should do, Bruce was looking upward to the roof of the cabin in which he lay ; and his eye was attracted by a spider, which, hanging at the end of a long thread of its own spinning, was endeavoring, as is the fashion of that creature, to swing itself from one beam in the roof to another, for the purpose of fixing the line on which it meant to stretch its web. The insect made the attempt again and again without success; at length Bruce counted that it had tried to carry its point six times, and been as often unable to do so. It came into his head that he had himself fought just six battles against the English and their allies, and that the poor persevering spider was exactly in the same situation with himself, having made as many trials and been as often disappointed in what it aimed at. "Now," thought Bruce, "as I have no means of knowing what is best to be don€, I THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 153 will be guided by the luck which shall attend this spider. If the insect shall make another effort to fix its thread, and shall be successful, I will venture a seventh time to try my fortune in Scotland; but if the spider shall fail, I will go to the wars in Palestine, and never return to my native country more." While Bruce was forming this resolution the spider made another exertion with all the force it could muster, and fairly succeeded in fastening its thread to the beam which it had so often in vain attempted to reach. Bruce, seeing the suc- cess of the spider, resolved to try his own fortune; and as he had never before gained a victory, so he never afterwards sustained any considerable or decisive check or defeat. I have often met with people of the name of Bruce, so com- pletely persuaded of the truth of this story, that they would not on any account kill a spider, because it was that insect which had shown the example of perseverance, and given a signal of good luck, to their great namesake. Having determined to renew his efforts to obtain possession of Scotland, notwithstanding the smallness of the means which he had for accomplishing so great a purpose, the Bruce removed himself and his followers from Kachrin to the island of Arran, which lies in the mouth of the Clyde. The King landed and inquired of the first woman he met what armed men were in the island. She returned for answer that there had arrived there very lately a body of armed strangers, who had defeated an English ofiicer, the governor of the castle of Brathwick, had killed him and most of his men, and were now amusing themselves with hunting about the island. The King, having caused himself to be guided to the woods which these strangers most frequented, there blew his horn repeatedly. Now, the chief of the strangers who had taken the castle was James Douglas, whom we have 154 THE RISE OF ROBERT THE BRUCE, already mentioned as one of the best of Bruce's friends, and he was accompanied by some of the bravest of that patriotic band. When he heard Robert Bruce's horn, he knew the sound well, and cried out, that yonder was the King, he knew by his manner of blowing. So he and his companions has- tened to meet King Robert, and there was great joy on both sides; whilst at the same time they could not help weeping when they considered their own forlorn condition, and the great loss that had taken place among their friends since they had last parted. But they were stout-hearted men, and looked forward to freeing their country in spite of all that had yet happened.^ The Bruce was now within sight of Scotland, and not distant from his own family possessions, where the people were most likely to be attached to him. He began immedi- ately to form plans with Douglas how they might best renew their enterprise against the English. The Douglas resolved to go disguised to his own country, and raise his followers in order to begin their enterprise by taking revenge on an English nobleman called Lord Clifford, upon whom Edward had conferred his estates, and who had taken up his residence in the castle of Douglas. Bruce, on his part, opened a communication with the oppo- site coast of Carrick, by means of one of his followers called Cuthbert. This person had directions, that if he should find the countrymen in Carrick disposed to take up arms against the English he was to make a fire on a headland, or lofty cape, called Turnberry, on the coast of Ayrshire, opposite to the island of Arran. The appearance of a fire on this place * " There are several natural caves; the principal, and whfch highly excites the curiosity of strangers of all ranks, is one in the west of the island, oppo- site to Campbeltown, called the Kinr/'s Cave, because, as tradition asserts, King Robert Bruce and his retinue lodged in it for some time when taking shelter in retired places," — 4'/*ran, Statistical Account 0/ Scotlanci, THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS, 155 was to be a signal for Bruce to put to sea with such men as he had, who were not more than three hundred in number, for the purpose of landing in Carrick and joining the insurgents. Bruce and his men watched eagerly for the signal, but for some time in vain. At length a fire on Turnberry-head became visible, and the King and his followers merrily betook them- selves to their ships and galleys, concluding their Carrick friends were all in arms and ready to join with them. They landed on the beach at midnight, where they found their spy Cuthbert alone in waiting for them with very bad news. Lord Percy, he said, was in the country with two or three hundred Englishmen, and had terrified the people so much, both by actions and threats, that none of them dared to think of rebelling against King Edward. "Traitor!" said Bruce, "why, then, did you make the signal?" "Alas," replied Cuthbert, "the fire was not made by me, but by some other person, for what purpose I know not; but as soon as I saw it burning, I knew that you would come over, thinking it my signal, and therefore I came down to wait for you on the beach, to tell you how the matter stood." King Robert's first idea was to return to Arran after this disappointment; but his brother Edward refused to go back. He was, as I have told you, a man daring even to rashness. "I will not leave my native land," he said, "now that I am so unexpectedly restored to it. I will give freedom to Scot- land, or leave my carcass on the surface of the land which gave me birth." Bruce, also, after some hesitation, determined that since he had been thus brought to the mainland of Scotland, he would remain there, and take such adventure and fortune as Heaven should send him. 156 THE BISE OF ROBERT THE BBUCE. Accordingly, he began to skirmish with the English so successfully, as obliged the Lord Percy to quit Carrick. Bruce then dispersed his men upon various adventures against the enemy, in which they were generally successful. But then, on the other hand, the King, being left with small attendance, or sometimes almost alone, ran great risk of losing his life by treachery or by open violence. Several of these incidents are very interesting. I will tell you some of them. At one time, a near relation of Bruce's, in whom he entirely confided, was induced by the bribes of the English to attempt to put him to death. This villain, with his two sons, watched the King one morning, till he saw him separated from all his men, excepting a little boy, who waited on him as a page. The father had a sword in his hand, one of the sons had a sword and a spear, and the other had a sword and a battle-axe. Now, when the King saw them so well armed, when there were no enemies near, he began to call to mind some hints which had been given to him, that these men intended to murder him. He had no weapons excepting his sword; but his page had a bow and arrow. He took them both from the little boy, and bade him stand at a distance ; " for, " said the King, "if I overcome these traitors, thou shalt have enough of weapons ; but if I am slain by them, you may make your escape, and tell Douglas and my brother to revenge my death." The boy was very sorry, for he loved his master; but he was obliged to do as he was bidden. In the meantime the traitors came forward upon Bruce, that they might assault him at once. The King called out to them, and commanded them to come no nearer, upon peril of their lives ; but the father answered with flattering words, pretending great kindness, and still continuing to approach his person. Then the King again called to them to stand. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 157 "Traitors," said he, "ye have sold my life for English gold; but you shall die if you come one foot nearer to me." With that he bent the page's bow, and as the old conspirator con- tinued to advance, he let the arrow fly at him. Bruce was an excellent archer; he aimed his arrow so well that it hit the father in the eye, and penetrated from that into his brain, so that he fell down dead. Then the two sons rushed on the King. One of them fetched a blow at him with an axe, but missed his stroke and stumbled, so that the King with his great sword cut him down before he could recover his feet. The remaining traitor ran on Bruce with his spear; but the King, with a sweep of his sword, cut the steel head off the villain's weapon, and then killed him before he had time to draw his sword. Then the little page came running, very joyful of his master's victory; and the King wiped his bloody sword, and looking upon the dead bodies, said, " These might have been reputed three gallant men, if they could have resisted the temptation of covetousness." In the present day, it is not necessary that generals, or great officers, should fight with their own hand, because it is only their duty to direct the movements and exertions of their followers. The artillery and the soldiers shoot at the enemy; and men seldom mingle together and fight hand to hand. But in the ancient times kings and great lords were obliged to put themselves into the very front of the battle and fight like ordinary men, with the lance and other weapons. It was, therefore, of great consequence that they should be strong men, and dexterous in the use of their arms. Kobert Bruce was so remarkably, active and powerful that he came through a great many personal dangers, in which he must otherwise have been slain. I will tell you another of his adventures which I think will amuse you. . After the death of these three traitors, Robert the Bruce 158 THE RISE OF ROBERT THE BRUCE. continued to keep himself concealed in his own earldom of Carrick, and in the neighboring country of Galloway, until he should have matters ready for a general attack upon the English. He was obliged, in the meantime, to keep very few men with him, both for the sake of secrecy, and from the difficulty of finding provisions. Now, many of the people of Galloway were unfriendly to Bruce. They lived under the government of one M'Dougal, related to the Lord of Lorn, who, as I before told you, had defeated Bruce at Dairy, and very nearly killed or made him prisoner. These Galloway men had heard that Bruce was in their country, having no more than sixty men with him; so they resolved to attack him by surprise, and for this purpose they got two hundred men together, and brought with them two or three blood- hounds. These animals were trained to chase a man by the scent of his footsteps, as foxhounds chase a fox, or as beagles and harriers chase a hare. Although the dog does not see the person whose trace he is put upon, he follows him over every step he has taken. At that time these bloodhounds, or sleuthhounds (so called from slot, or sleut, a word which sig- nifies the scent left by an animal of chase), were used for the purpose of pursuing great criminals. The men of Galloway thought themselves secure, that if they missed taking Bruce, or killing him at the first onset, and if he should escape into the woods, they would find him out by means of these bloodhounds. The good King Robert Bruce, who was always watchful and vigilant, had received some information of the intention of this party to come upon him suddenly and by night. Accordingly, he quartered his little troop of sixty men on the side of a deep and swift-running river, that had very steep and rocky banks. There was but one ford by which this river could be crossed in that neighborhood, and that ford THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 159 was deep and narrow, so that two men could scarcely get through abreast; the ground on which they were to land on the side where the King was, was steep, and the path which led upwards from the water's edge to the top of the bank, extremely narrow and difficult. . Bruce caused his men to lie down to take some sleep, at a place about half a mile distant from the river, while he him- self, with two attendants, went down to watch the ford, through which the enemy must needs pass before they could come to the place where King Robert's men were lying. He stood for some time looking at the ford, and thinking how easily the enemy might be kept from passing there, provided it was bravely defended, when he heard at a distance the baying of a hound, which was always coming nearer and nearer. This was the bloodhound which was tracing the King's steps to the ford where he had crossed, and the two hundred Galloway men were along with the animal, and guided by it. Bruce at first thought of going back to awaken his men; but then he reflected that it might be only some shepherd's dog. "My men," said he, "are sorely tired; I will not disturb their sleep for the yelping of a cur, till I know something more of the matter." So he stood and listened; and by and by, as the cry of the hound came nearer, he began to hear a trampling of horses, and the voices of men, and the ringing and clattering of armor, and then he was sure the enemy were coming to the river side. Then the King thought, " If I go back to give my men the alarm, these Galloway men will get through the ford without opposition ; and that would be a pity, since it is a place so advantageous to make defence against them." So he looked again at the steep path, and the deep river, and he thought that they gave him so much advantage, that he himself could defend the passage with his own hand, until his men came to assist him. 160 THE BISE OF BOBERT THE BBUCE. His armor was so good and strong, that he had no fear of arrows, and therefore the combat was not so very unequal as it must have otherwise been. He therefore sent his followers to waken his men, and remained alone by the bank of the river. In the meanwhile, the noise and trampling of the horses increased; and the moon being bright, Bruce beheld thp glancing arms of about two hundred men, who came down to the opposite bank of the river. The men of Galloway, on their part, saw but one solitary figure guarding the ford, and the foremost of them plunged into the river without minding him. But as they could only pass the ford one by one, the Bruce, who stood high above them on the bank where they were to land, killed the foremost man with a thrust of his long spear, and with a second thrust stabbed the horse, which fell down, kicking and plunging in his agonies, on the narrow path, and so prevented the others who were following from getting out of the river. Bruce had thus an opportunity of dealing his blows at pleasure among them, while they could not strike at him again. In the confusion, five or six of the enemy were slain, or, having been borne down the current, were drowned in the river. The rest were terrified, and drew back. But when the Galloway men looked again, and saw they were opposed by only one man, they themselves being so many, they cried out, that their honor would be lost forever if they did not force their way; and encouraged each other, with loud cries, to plunge through and assault him. But by this time the King's soldiers came up to his assistance, and the Galloway men retreated, and gave up their enterprise.* * " When the soldiers came up, they found the King wearied, but un wounded, and sitting on a bank, where he had cast off his helmet to wipe his brow, and cool himself in the night air." — Ty tier's History 0/ Scotland. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 161 I will tell you another story of this brave Robert Bruce during his wanderings. His adventures are as curious and entertaining as those which men invent for story books, with this advantage, that they are all true. About the time when the Bruce was yet at the head of but few men, Sir Aymer de Valence, who was Earl of Pembroke, together with John of Lorn, came into Galloway, each of them being at the head of a large body of men. John of Lorn had a bloodhound with him, which it was said had formerly belonged to Robert Bruce himself; and having been fed by the King with his own hands, it became attached to him, and would follow his footsteps anywhere, as dogs are well known to trace their master's steps, whether they be bloodhounds or not. By means of this hound, John of Lorn thought he should certainly find out Bruce, and take revenge on him for the death of his relation Comyn. When these two armies advanced upon King Robert, he at first thought of fighting the English Earl; but becoming aware that John of Lorn was moving round with another large body to attack him in the rear, he resolved to avoid fighting at that time, lest he should be oppressed by numbers. For this purpose, the King divided the men he had with him into three bodies, and commanded them to retreat by three different ways, thinking the enemy would not know which party to pursue. He also appointed a place at which they were to assemble again. But when John of Lorn came to the place where the army of Bruce had been thus divided, the bloodhound took his course after one of these divisions, neglecting the other two, and then John of Lorn knew that the King must be in that party; so he also made no pursuit after the two other divisions of the Scots, but followed that which the dog pointed out, with all his men. The King again saw that he was followed by a large body, 162 THE mSE OF nOBERT THE BRUCE. and being determined to escape from them if possible, he made all the people who were with him disperse themselves different ways, thinking thus that the enemy must needs lose trace of him. He kept only one man along with him, and that was his own foster-brother, or the son of his nurse. When John of Lorn came to the place where Bruce 's com- panions had dispersed themselves, the bloodhound, after it had snuffed up and down for a little, quitted the footsteps of all the other fugitives, and ran barking upon the track of two men out of the whole number. Then John of Lorn knew that one of these two must needs be King Eobert. Accordingly, he commanded five of his men that were speedy of foot to chase after him, and either make him prisoner or slay him. The Highlanders started off accordingly, and ran so fast, that they gained sight of Robert and his foster-brother. The King asked his companion what help he could give him, and his foster-brother answered he was ready to do his best. So these two turned on the five men of John of Lorn, and killed them all. It is to be supposed they were better armed than the others were, as well as stronger and more desperate. But by this time Bruce was very much fatigued, and yet they dared not sit down to take any rest; for whenever they stopt for an instant, they heard the cry of the bloodhound behind them, and knew by that, that their enemies were com- ing up fast after them. At length, they came to a wood, through which ran a small river. Then Bruce said to his foster-brother, "Let us wade down this stream for a great way, instead of going straight across, and so this unhappy hound will lose the scent; for if we were once clear of him., I sho.uld not be afraid of getting away from the pursuers." Accordingly, the King and his attendant walked a great way down the stream, taking care to keep their feet in the water, which could not retain any scent where they had stepped. THE BEAUT OF OAK BOOKS. 163 Then they came ashore on the further side from the enemy, and went deep into the wood before they stopped to rest themselves. In the meanwhile, the hound led John of Lorn straight to the place where the King went into the water, but there the dog began to be puzzled, not knowing where to go next ; for you are well aware that the running water could not retain the scent of a man's foot, like that which remains on turf. So, John of Lorn seeing the dog was at fault, as it is called, that is, had lost the track of that which he pursued, he gave up the chase, and returned to join with Aymer de Valence. But King Robert's adventures were not yet ended. His foster-brother and he had rested themselves in the wood, but they had got no food, and were become extremely hungry. They walked on, however, in hopes of coming to some habita- tion. At length, in the midst of the forest, they met with three men who looked like thieves or ruffians. They were well armed, and one of them bore a sheep on his back, which it seemed as if they had just stolen. They saluted the King civilly; and he, replying to their salutation, asked them where they were going. The men answered, they were seek- ing for Robert Bruce, for that they intended to join with him. The King answered, that if they would go with him, he would conduct them where they would find the Scottish King. Then the man who had spoken changed countenance, and Bruce, who looked sharply at him, began to suspect that the ruffian guessed who he was, and that he and his companions had some design against his person, in order to gain the reward which had been offered for his life. So he said to them, " My good friends, as we are not well acquainted with each other, you must go before us, and we will follow near to you." "You have no occasion to suspect any harm from us," an- swered the man. 164 THE BISE OF ROBERT THE BRUCE. "Neither do I suspect any/' said Bruce; "but this is the way in which I choose to travel." The men did as he commanded, and thus they travelled till they came together to a waste and ruinous cottage, where the men proposed to dress some part of the sheep, which their companion was carrying. The King was glad to hear of food; but he insisted that there should be two fires kindled, one for himself and his foster-brother at one end of the house, the other at the other end for their three companions. The men did as he desired. They broiled a quarter of mutton for themselves, and gave another to the King and his attendant. They were obliged to eat it without bread or salt; but as they were very hungry, they were glad to get food in any shape, and partook of it very heartily. Then so heavy a drowsiness fell on King Eobert, that, for all the danger he was in, he could not resist an inclination to sleep. But first, he desired his foster-brother to watch while he slept, for he had great suspicion of their new acquaint- ances. His foster-brother promised to keep awake, and did his best to keep his word. But the King had not been long asleep ere his foster-brother fell into a deep slumber also, for he had undergone as much fatigue as the King. When the three villains saw the King and his attendant asleep, they made signs to each other, and rising up at once, drew their swords with the purpose to kill them both. But the King slept but lightly, and little noise as the traitors made in rising, he was awakened by it, and starting up, drew his sword, and went to meet them. At the same moment he pushed his foster-brother with his foot, to awaken him, and he got on his feet; but ere he got his eyes cleared to see what was about to happen, one of the ruffians that were advancing to slay the King, killed him with a stroke of his sword. The King was now alone, one man against three, and in the THE HEABT OF OAK BOOKS, 165 greatest danger of his life; but his amazing strength, and the good armor which he wore, freed him once more from this great peril, and he killed the three men, one after another. He then left the cottage, very sorrowful for the death of his faithful foster-brother, and took his direction towards the place where he had appointed his men to assemble after their dispersion. It was now near night, and the place of meeting being a farm-house, he went boldly into it, where he found the mistress, an old true-hearted Scotswoman, sitting alone. Upon seeing a stranger enter, she asked him who and what he was. The King answered that he was a traveller, who was journeying through the country. "All travellers," answered the good woman, "are welcome here, for the sake of one." "And who is that one," said the King, "for whose sake you make all travellers welcome?" "It is our rightful King, Eobert the Bruce," answered the mistress, "who is the lawful lord of this country; and al- though he is now pursued and hunted after with hounds and horns, I hope to live to see him King over all Scotland." "Since you love him so well dame," said the King, "know that you see him before you. I am Robert the Bruce." " You ! " said the good woman, in great surprise ; " and wherefore are you thus alone? — where are all your men?" "I have none with me at this moment," answered Bruce, "and therefore I must travel alone." "But that shall not be," said the brave old dame, "for I have two stout sons, gallant and trusty men, who shall be your servants for life and death." So she brought her two sons, and though she well knew the dangers to which she exposed them, she made them swear fidelity to the King; and they afterwards became high officers in his service. 166 THE BISE OF ROBERT THE BRUCE. Now, the loyal old woman was getting everything ready for the King's supper, when suddenly there was a great trampling of horses heard round the house. They thought it must be some of the English, or John of Lorn's men, and the good wife called upon her sons to fight to the last for King Kobert. But shortly after, they heard the voice of the Good Lord James of Douglas, and of Edward Bruce, the King's brother, who had come with a hundred and fifty horsemen to this farm-house, according to the instructions that the King had left with them at parting. Robert the Bruce was right joyful to meet his brother, and his faithful friend Lord James ; and had no sooner found himself once more at the head of such a considerable body of followers, than forgetting hungjer and weariness, he began to inquire where the enemy who had pursued them so long had taken up their abode for the night ; " for," said he, " as they must suppose us totally scattered and fled, it is likely that they will think themselves quite secure, and disperse them- selves into distant quarters, and keep careless watch." "That is very true," answered James of Douglas, "for I passed a village where there are two hundred of them quar- tered, who had placed no sentinels ; and if you have a mind to make haste, we may surprise them this very night, and do them more mischief than they have been able to do us during all this day's chase." Then there was nothing but mount and ride; and as the Scots came by surprise on the body of English whom Douglas had mentioned, and rushed suddenly into the village where they were quartered, they easily dispersed and cut them to pieces ; thus, as Douglas had said, doing their pursuers more injury than they themselves had received during the long and severe pursuit of the preceding day. The consequence of these successes of King Robert was. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 167 that soldiers came to join him on all sides, and that he obtained several victories both over Sir Aymer de Valence, Lord Clifford, and other English commanders : until at length the English were afraid to venture into the open country as formerly, unless when they could assemble themselves in con- siderable bodies. They thought it safer to lie still in the towns and castles which they had garrisoned, and wait till the King of England should once more come to their assistance with a powerful army. THE EXPLOITS OF DOUGLAS AND OF EANDOLPH. (1307-1313.) When King Edward the First heard that Scotland was again in arms against him, he marched down to the Borders, as I have already told you, with many threats of what he would do to avenge himself on Bruce and his party, whom he called rebels. But he was now old and feeble, and while he was making his preparations, he was taken very ill, and after lingering a long time, at length died on the sixth of July, 1307, at a place in Cumberland called Burgh upon the Sands, in full sight of Scotland, and not three miles from its fron- tier. His hatred to that country was so inveterate, that his thoughts of revenge seemed to occupy his mind on his death- bed. He made his son promise never to make peace with Scotland until the nation was subdued. He gave also very singular directions concerning the disposal of his dead body. He ordered that it should be boiled in a cauldron till the flesh parted from the bones, and that then the bones should be wrapped up in a bull's hide, and carried at the head of the English army, as often as the Scots attempted to recover their freedom. He thought that he had inflicted such distresses on 168 TII^ EXPLOITS OF LOUGLAS AnI) ItANDOLPM. the Scots, and invaded and defeated them so often, that his very dead bones would terrify them. His son, Edward the Second, did not choose to execute this strange injunction, but caused his father to be buried in Westminster Abbey, where his tomb is still to be seen, bearing for an inscription, HERE LIES THE HAMMER OF THE SCOTTISH NATION. And, indeed, it was true, that during his life he did them as much injury as a hammer does to the substances which it dashes to pieces. Edward the Second was neither so brave nor so wise as his father; on the contrary, he was a weak prince, fond of idle amusements and worthless favorites. It was lucky for Scot- land that such was his disposition. He marched a little way into Scotland with the large army which Edward the First had collected, but went back again without fighting, which gave great encouragement to Bruce 's party. Several of the Scottish nobility now took arms in different parts of the country, declared for King Robert, and fought against the English troops and garrisons. The most dis- tinguished of these was the Good Lord James of Douglas, whom we have often mentioned before. Some of his most memorable exploits respected his own Castle of Douglas, in which, being an important fortress and strongJy situated, the English had placed a large garrison. James of Douglas saw, with great displeasure, his castle filled with English soldiers, and stored with great quantities of corn, and cattle, and wine, and ale, and other supplies which they were preparing, to enable them to assist the English army with provisions. So he resolved, if possible, to be revenged upon the captain of the garrison and his soldiers. For this purpose, Douglas went in disguise to the house of one of his old servants, called Thomas Dickson, a strong, faithful, and bold man, and laid a scheme for taking the THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS, 169 castle. A holiday was approaching, called Palm Sunday. Upon this day, it was common, in the Boman Catholic times, that the people went to church in procession, with green boughs in their hands. Just as the English soldiers, who had marched down from the castle, got into church, one of Lord James's followers raised the cry of Douglas, Douglas! which was the shout with which that family always began battle. Thomas Dickson, and some friends whom he had collected, instantly drew their swords, and killed the first Englishman whom they met. But as the signal had been given too soon, Dickson was borne down and slain. Douglas and his men presently after forced their way into the church. The English soldiers attempted to defend themselves; but, being taken by surprise and unprepared, they were, for the greater part, killed or made prisoners, and that so suddenly, and with so little noise, that their companions in the castle never heard of it. So that when Douglas and his men approached the castle gate, they found it open, and that part of the garrison which were left at home, busied cooking provisions for those that were at church. So Lord James got possession of his own castle without difficulty, and he and his men eat up all the good dinner which the English had made ready. But Douglas dared not stay there, lest the English should come in great force and besiege him; and therefore he resolved to destroy all the provisions which the English had stored up in the castle, and to render the place unavailing to them. It must be owned he executed this purpose in a very cruel and shocking manner, for he was much enraged at the death of Thomas Dickson. He caused all the barrels containing flour, meal, wheat, and malt, to be knocked in pieces, and their contents mixed on the floor; then he staved the great hogsheads of wine and ale, and mixed the liquor with the 170 THE EXPLOITS OF DOUGLAS AND RANDOLPH, stores ; and, last of all, he killed his prisoners, and flung the dead bodies among this disgusting heap, which his men called, in derision of the English, the Douglas Larder. Then he flung dead horses into the well to destroy it — after which he set fire to the castle; and finally marched away, and took refuge with his followers in the hills and forests. " He loved better," he said, ''to hear the lark sing than the mouse squeak." That is, he loved better to keep in the open field witli his men, than to shut himself and them up in castles. When Clifford, the English general, heard what had hap- pened, he came to Douglas Castle with a great body of men, and rebuilt all the defences which Lord James had destroyed, and cleared out the well, and put a good soldier, named Thirl- wall, to command the garrison, and desired him to be on his guard, for he suspected that Lord James would again attack him. And, indeed, Douglas, who did not like to see the English in his father's castle, was resolved to take the first opportunity of destroying this garrison, as he had done the former. For this purpose he again had recourse to stratagem. He laid a part of his followers in ambush in the wood, and sent fourteen men, disguised like countrymen, driving cattle past the gates of the castle. As soon as Thirlwall saw this, he swore that he would plunder the Scots drovers of their cattle, and came out with a considerable part of his garrison, for that purpose. He had followed the cattle past the place where Douglas was lying concealed, when all of a sudden the Scotsmen threw off their carriers' cloaks, and appeared in armor, cried the cry of Douglas, and, turning back suddenly, ran to meet the pursuers ; and before Thirlwall could make any defence, he heard the same war-cry behind him, and saw Douglas coming up with those Scots who had been lying in ambush. Thirlwall himself was killed, fighting bravely in the middle of his enemies, and only a very few of his men found their way back to the castle. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 171 When Lord James had thus slain two English commanders or governors of his castle, and was known to have made a vow that he would be revenged on any one who should dare to take possession of his father's house, men became afraid ; and the fortress was called, both in England and Scotland, the Peril- ous Castle of Douglas, because it proved so dangerous to any Englishman who was stationed there. Now, in those warlike times. Master Little John, you must know, that the ladies would not marry any man who was not very brave and val- iant, so that a coward, let him be ever so rich or high-born, was held in universal contempt. And thus it became the fashion for the ladies to demand proofs of the courage of their lovers, and for those knights who desired to please the ladies, to try some extraordinary deed of arms, to show their bravery and deserve their favor. At the time we speak of, there was a young lady in Eng- land, whom many knights and noblemen asked in marriage, because she was extremely wealthy, and very beautiful. Once upon a holiday she made a great feast, to which she asked all her lovers, and numerous other gallant knights ; and after the feast she arose, and told them that she was much obliged to them for their good opinion of her, but as she desired to have for her husband a man of the most incontestable bravery, she had formed her resolution not to marry any one, save one who should show his courage by defending the Perilous Castle of Douglas against the Scots for a year and a day. Now this made some silence among the gentlemen present ; for although the lady was rich and beautiful, yet there was great danger in placing themselves within the reach of the Good Lord James of Douglas. At last a brave young knight started up and said that for the love of that lady he was willing to keep the Peril- ous Castle for a year and a day, if the King pleased to give him leave. The King of England was satisfied, and well 172 THE EXPLOITS OF DOUGLAS AND RANDOLPH, pleased to get a brave man to hold a place so dangerous. Sir John Wilton was the name of this gallant knight. He kept the castle very safely for some time ; but Douglas, at last, by a stratagem,^ induced him to venture out with a part of the garrison, and then set upon them and slew them. Sir John Wilton himself was killed, and a letter from the lady was found in his pocket.' Douglas was sorry for his unhappy end, and did not put to death any of the prisoners as he had formerly done, but dismissed them in safety to the next Eng- lish garrison. Other great lords, besides Douglas, were now exerting themselves to attack and destroy the English. Amongst those was Sir Thomas Kandolph, whose mother was a sister of King Eobert. He had joined with the Bruce when he first took up arms. Afterwards being made prisoner by the Eng- lish, when the King was defeated at Methven, as I told you. Sir Thomas Kandolph was obliged to join the English to save his life. He remained so constant to them, that he was in company with Aymer de Valence and John of Lorn, when they forced the Bruce to disperse his little band; and he followed the pursuit so close, that he made his uncle's standard-bearer prisoner, and took his banner. Afterwards, however, he was himself made prisoner, at a solitary house on Lyne-water, by the Good Lord James Douglas, who brought him captive to the King. Eobert reproached his nephew for having deserted his cause; and Randolph, who was very hot-tempered, an- swered insolently, and was sent by King Eobert to prison. Shortly after, the uncle and nephew were reconciled, and Sir Thomas Randolph, created Earl of Murray by the King, was * This stratagem was, in its contrivance and success, the same as his former one, save that in place of cattlediiviug. Sir James made fourteen of his men take so many sacks, and fill them with grass, as if corn for the county market- town of Lamark, twelve miles from the Castle of Douglas. See Introduction to "Castle Dangerous," Waverley Novels, Vol. XLVII. H K TBE BEAUT OF OAK BOOKS, 173 ever afterwards one of Bruce's best supporters. There was a sort of rivalry between Douglas and him, which should do the boldest and most hazardous actions. I will just mention one or two circumstances, which will show you what awful dangers were to be encountered by these brave men, in order to free Scotland from its enemies and invaders. While Robert Bruce was gradually getting possession of the country, and driving out the English, Edinburgh, the principal town of Scotland, remained, with its strong castle, in possession of the invaders. Sir Thomas Randolph was extremely desirous to gain this important place ; but, as you well know, the castle is situated on a very steep and lofty rock, so that it is difficult or almost impossible even to get up to the foot of the walls, much more to climb over them. So while Randolph was considering what was to be done, there came to him a Scottish gentleman named Francis, who had joined Bruce's standard, and asked to speak with him in private. He then told Randolph, that in his youth he had lived in the Castle of Edinburgh, and that his father had then been keeper of the fortress. It happened at that time that Francis was much in love with a lady, who lived in a part of the town beneath the castle, which is called the Grassmarket. Now, as he could not get out of the castle by day to see his mistress, he had practised a way of clambering by night down the castle rock on the south side, and returning at his pleas- ure ; when he came to the foot of the wall, he made use of a ladder to get over it, as it was not very high at that point, those who built it having trusted to the steepness of the crag; and, for the same reason, no watch was placed there. Francis had gone and come so frequently in this dangerous manner, that, though it was now long ago, he told Randolph he knew the road so well, that he would undertake to guide a small party of men by night to the bottom of the wall ; and as they 174 THE EXPLOITS OF DOUGLAS AND liANDOLPH. might bring ladders with t'aem, there would be no difficulty in scaling it. The great risk was, that of their being discovered by the watchmen while in the act of ascending the cliff, in which case every man of them must have perished. Nevertheless, Randolph did not hesitate to attempt the adventure. He took with him only thirty men (you may be sure they were chosen for activity and courage), and came one dark night to the foot of the rock, which they began to ascend under the guidance of Francis, who went before them, upon his hands and feet, up one cliff, down another, and round another, where there was scarce room to support themselves. All the while, these thirty men were obliged to follow in a line, one after the other, by a path that was fitter for a cat than a man. The noise of a stone falling, or a word spoken from one to another, would have alarmed the watchmen. They were obliged, therefore, to move with the greatest pre- caution. When they were far up the crag, and near the foundation of the wall, they heard the guards going their rounds, to see that all was safe in and about the castle. Randolph and his party had nothing for it but to lie close and quiet, each man under the crag, as he happened to be placed, and trust that the guards would pass by without noticing them. And while they were waiting in breathless alarm they got a new cause of fright. One of the soldiers of the castle, willing to startle his comrades, suddenly threw a stone from the wall, and cried out, "Aha, I see you well!" The stone came thundering down over the heads of Randolph and his men, who naturally thought themselves discovered. If they had stirred, or made the slightest noise, they would have been entirely destroyed; for the soldiers above might have killed every man of them, merely by rolling down stones. But being courageous and chosen men, they remained quiet, and the English soldiers, who thought their comrade was merely THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 175 playing them a trick (as, indeed, he had no other meaning in what he did and said) passed on without farther examination. Then Eandolph and his men got up and came in haste to the foot of the wall, which was not above twice a man's height in that place. They planted the ladders they had brought, and Francis mounted first to show them the way; Sir Andrew Grey, a brave knight, followed him, and Randolph himself was the third man who got over. Then tlie rest followed. When once they were within the walls, there was not so much to do, for the garrison were asleep and unarmed, excepting the watch, who were speedily destroyed. Thus was Edin- burgh Castle taken in March, 1312-13. It was not, however, only by the exertions of great and powerful barons, like Randolph and Douglas, that the free- dom of Scotland was to be accomplished. The stout yeo- manry, and the bold peasantry of the land, who were as desirous to enjoy their cottages in honorable independence as the nobles were to reclaim their castles and estates from the English, contributed their full share in the efforts which were made to deliver the country from the invaders. I will give you one instance among many. There was a strong castle near Linlithgow, or Lithgow, as the word is more generally pronounced, where an English governor, with a powerful garrison, lay in readiness to sup- port the English cause, and used to exercise much severity upon the Scots in the neighborhood. There lived at no great distance from this stronghold, a farmer, a bold and stout man, whose name was Binnock, or, as it is now pronounced. Bin- ning. This man saw with great joy the progress which the Scots were making in recovering their country from the Eng- lish, and resolved to do something to help his countrymen, by getting possession, if it were possible, of the Castle of Lith- gow. But the place was very strong, situated by the side 176 TEE EXPLOITS OF DOUGLAS AND RANDOLPH, of a lake, defended not only by gates, which were usually kept shut against strangers, but also by a portcullis. A port- cullis is a sort of door formed of cross-bars of iron, like a grate. It has not hinges like a door, but is drawn up by pulleys, and let down when any danger approaches. It may be let go in a moment, and then falls down into the doorway; and as it has great iron spikes at the bottom, it crushes all that it lights upon; thus in case of a sudden alarm, a port- cullis may be let suddenly fall to defend the entrance, when it is not possible to shut the gates. Binnock knew this very well, but he resolved to be provided against this risk also when he attempted to surprise the castle. So he spoke with" some bold, courageous countrymen, and engaged them in his enterprise, which he accomplished thus. Binnock had been accustomed to supply the garrison of Linlithgow with hay, and he had been ordered by the English governor to furnish some cart-loads, of which they were in want. He promised to bring it accordingly; but the night before he drove the hay to the castle, he stationed a party of his friends, as well armed as possible, near the entrance, where they could not be seen by the garrison, and gave them directions that they should come to his assistance as soon as they should hear him cry a signal, which was to be, — " Call all, call all ! " Then he loaded a great wagon with hay. But in the wagon he placed eight strong men, well armed, lying flat on their breasts, and covered over with hay, so that they could not be seen. He himself walked carelessly beside the wagon; and he chose the stoutest and bravest of his servants to be the driver, who carried at his belt a strong axe or hatchet. In this way Binnock approached the castle early in the morning; and the watchman, who only saw two men, Binnock being one of them, with a cart of hay, which they expected, opened the gates and raised up the portcullis, to THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 177 permit them to enter the castle. But as soon as the cart had gotten under the gateway, Binnock made a sign to his servant, who with his axe suddenly cut asunder the sonm, that is, the yoke which fastens the horses to the cart, and the horses finding themselves free, naturally started forward, the cart remaining behind. At the same moment, Binnock cried, as loud as he could, " Call all, call all ! " and drawing the sword, which he had under his country habit, he killed the porter. The armed men then jumped up from under the hay where they lay concealed, and rushed on the English guard. The Englishmen tried to shut the gates, but they could not, because the cart of hay remained in the gateway, and prevented the folding-doors from being closed. The portcullis was also let fall, but the grating was caught on the cart, and so could not drop to the ground. The men who were in ambush near the gate, hearing the cry, "Call all, call all," ran to assist those who had leaped out from amongst the hay; the castle was taken, and all the Englishmen killed or made prisoners. King Robert rewarded Binnock by bestow- ing on him an estate, which his posterity long afterwards enjoyed. Perhaps you may be tired, my dear child, of such stories ; yet I will tell you how the great and important Castle of Roxburgh was taken from the English, and then we will pass to other subjects. You must know Roxburgh was then a very large castle, situated near where two fine rivers, the Tweed and the Teviot, join each other. Being within five or six miles of England, the English were extremely desirous of retaining it, and the Scots equally eager to obtain possession of it. I will tell you how it was taken. It was upon the night of what is called Shrovetide, a holi- day which Roman Catholics paid great respect to, and solem- 178 THE EXPLOITS OF DOUGLAS AND RANDOLPH. nized with much gaiety and feasting. Most of the garrison of Roxburgh Castle were drinking and carousing, but still they had set watches on the battlements of the castle, in case of any sudden attack ; for, as the Scots had succeeded in so many enterprises of the kind, and as Douglas was known to be in the neighborhood, they conceived themselves obliged to keep a very strict guard. An Englishwoman, the wife of one of the officers, was sit- ting on the battlements with her child in her arms; and look- ing out on the fields below, she saw some black objects, like a herd of cattle, straggling near the foot of the wall, and approaching the ditch or moat of the castle. She pointed them out to the sentinel, and asked him what they were. — "Pooh, pooh," said the soldier, "it is farmer such a one's cattle " (naming a man whose farm lay near to the castle) ; " the good man is keeping a jolly Shrovetide and has forgot to shut his bullocks in their yard; but if the Douglas come across them before morning, he is likely to rue his negli- gence." Now these creeping objects which they saw from the castle wall were no real cattle, but Douglas himself and his soldiers, who had put black cloaks above their armor, and were creeping about on hands and feet, in order, without being observed, to get so near to the foot of the castle wall as to be able to set ladders to it. The poor woman, who knew nothing of this, sat quietly on the wall, and began to sing to her child. You must know that the name of Douglas had become so terri- ble to the English, that the women used to frighten their chil- dren with it, and say to them when they behaved ill, that they "would make the Black Douglas take them." And this soldier's wife was singing to her child, ' Hush ye, husli ye, little pet ye, Hush ye, hush ye, do not fret ye, The Black Douglas shall not get ye.' THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 179 "You are not so sure of that," said a voice close beside her. She felt at the same time a heavy hand, with an iron glove, laid on her shoulder, and when she looked round, she saw the very Black Douglas she had been singing about, standing close beside her, a tall, swarthy, strong man. At the same time, another Scotsman was seen ascending the walls, near the sentinel. The soldier gave the alarm, and rushed at the Scotsman, whose name was Simon Ledehouse, with his lance; but Simon parried the stroke, and closing with the sentinel, struck him a deadly blow with his dagger. The rest of the Scots followed up to assist Douglas and Ledehouse, and the castle was taken. Many of the soldiers were put to death, but Douglas protected the woman and the child. I dare say she made no more songs about the Black Douglas. While Douglas, Randolph, and other true-hearted patriots, were thus taking castles and strongholds from the English, King Robert, who had now a considerable army under his command, marched through the country, beating and dispers- ing such bodies of English as he met on his way. He went to the north country, where he conquered the great and power- ful family of Comyn, who retained strong ill-will against him for having slain their relation, the Red Comyn, in the church at Dumfries. They had joined the English with all their forces; but now, as the Scots began to get the upper-hand, they were very much distressed. Bruce caused more than thirty of them to be beheaded in one day, and the place where they are buried is called "the Grave of the headless Comyns." Neither did Bruce forget or forgive John M'Dougal of Lorn, who had defeated him at Dairy, and very nearly made him prisoner, or slain him, by the hands of his vassals, the M' Andros- sers, and had afterwards pursued him with a bloodhound. When John of Lorn heard that Bruce was marching against him, he hoped to defend himself by taking possession of a very 180 THE EXPLOITS OF DOUGLAS AND ItANDOLPH. strong pass on the side of one of the largest mountains in Scotland, Cruachen Ben. The ground was very straight, having lofty rocks on the one hand, and on the other deep precipices, sinking down on a great lake called Lochawe; so that John of Lorn thought himself perfectly secure, as he could not be attacked except in front, and by a very difficult path. But King Eobert, when he saw how his. enemies were posted, sent a party of light-armed archers, under command of Douglas, with directions to go, by a distant and difficult road, around the northern side of the hill, and thus to attack the men of Lorn in the rear as well as in front; that is, behind, as well as before. He had signals made when Doug- las arrived at the place appointed. The King then advanced upon the Lorn men in front, when they raised a shout of defiance, and began to shoot arrows and roll stones down the path, with great confidence in the security of their own posi- tion. But when they were attacked by the Douglas and his archers in the rear, the soldiers of M'Dougal lost courage and fled. Many were slain among the rocks and precipices, and many were drowned in the lake, and the great river which runs out of it. John of Lorn only escaped by means of his boat, which he had in readiness upon the lake. Thus King Robert had full revenge upon him, and deprived him of a great part of his territory. The English now possessed scarcely any place of importance in Scotland, excepting Stirling, which was besieged, or rather blockaded, by Edward Bruce, the King's brother. To block- ade a town or castle, is to quarter an army around it, so as to prevent those within from getting provisions. This was done by the Scots before Stirling, till Sir Philip Mowbray, who commanded the castle, finding that he was like to be reduced to extremity for want of provisions, made an agreement with Edward Bruce that he would surrender the place, provided ho THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 181 were not relieved by the King of England before midsummer. Sir Edward agreed to these terms, and allowed Mowbray to go to London, to tell King Edward of the conditions he had made. But when King Eobert heard what his brother had done, he thought it was too great a risk, since it obliged him to venture a battle with the full strength of Edward the Second, who had under him England, Ireland, Wales, and great part of France, and could within the time allowed assemble a much more powerful army than the Scots could, even if all Scotland were fully under the King's authority. Sir Edward answered his brcfther with his naturally audacious spirit, " Let Edward bring every man he has, we will fight them, were they more." The King admired his courage, though it was mingled with rashness. — " Since it is so, brother," he said, " we will man- fully abide battle, and assemble all who love us, and value the freedom of Scotland, to come with all the men they have, and help us to oppose King Edward, should he come with his army to rescue Stirling." THE BATTLE OF BANNOCKBURN. (1314.) King Edward the Second, as we have already said, was not a wise and brave man like his father, but a foolish prince, who was influenced by unworthy favorites, and thought more of pleasure than of governing his kingdom. His father Edward the First would have entered Scotland at the head of a large army, before he had left Bruce time to conquer back so much of the country. But we have seen, that, very fortunately for the Scots, that wise and skilful, though ambitious King, died when he was on the point of marching into Scotland. His son Edward had afterwards neglected the Scottish war, and 182 THE BATTLE OF BANNOCKBUBN. thus lost the opportunity of defeating Bruce, when his force was small. But now when Sir Philip Mowbray, the governor of Stirling, came to London, to tell the King, that Stirling, the last Scottish town of importance which remained in possession of the English, was to be surrendered if it were not relieved by force of arms before midsummer, then all the English nobles called out, it would be a sin and shame to per- mit the fair conquest which Edward the First had made, to be forfeited to the Scots for want of fighting. It was, therefore, resolved, that the King should go himself to Scotland, with as great forces as he could possibly muster. King Edward the Second, therefore, assembled one of the greatest armies which a King of England ever commanded. There were troops brought from all his dominions. Many brave soldiers from the French provinces which the King of England possessed in France — many Irish, many Welsh — and all the great English nobles and barons, with their followers, were assembled in one great army. The number was not less than one hundred thousand men. King E/obert the Bruce summoned all his nobles and barons to join him, when he heard of the great preparations which the King of England was making. They were not so numer- ous as the English by many thousand men. In fact, his whole army did not very much exceed thirty thousand, and they were much worse armed than the wealthy Englishmen; but then, Kobert, who was at their head, was one of the most expert generals of the time; and the officers he had under him, were his brother Edward, his nephew Kandolph, his faithful follower the Douglas, and other brave and experi- enced leaders, who commanded the same men that had been accustomed to fight and gain victories under every disadvan- tage of situation and numbers. The King, on his part, studied how he might supply, by THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 183 address and stratagem, what he wanted in numbers and strength. He knew the superiority of the English, both in their heavy-armed cavalry, which were much better mounted and armed than that of the Scots, and in their archers, who were better trained than any others in the world. Both these advantages he resolved to provide against. With this pur- pose, he led his army down into a plain near Stirling, called the Park, near which, and beneath it, the English army must needs pass through a boggy country, broken with water- courses, while the Scots occupied hard dry ground. He then caused all the ground upon the front of his line of battle, where cavalry were likely to act, to be dug full of holes, about as deep as a man's knee. They were filled with light brush- wood, and the turf was laid on the top, so that it appeared a plain field, while in reality it was all full of these pits as a honeycomb is of holes. He also, it is said, caused steel spikes, called calthrops, to be scattered up and down in the plain, where the English cavalry were most likely to advance, trusting in that manner to lame and destroy their horses. When the Scottish army was drawn up, the line stretched north and south. On the south, it was terminated by the banks of the brook called Bannockburn, which are so rocky, that no troops could attack them there. On the left^ the Scottish line extended near to the town of Stirling. Bruce reviewed his troops very carefully; all the useless servants, drivers of carts, and such like, of whom there were very many, he ordered to go behind a height, afterwards, in memory of the event, called the Gillies' hill, that is, the Ser- vants' hill. He then spoke to the soldiers, and expressed his determination to gain the victory, or to lose his life on the field of battle. He desired that all those who did not pro- pose to fight to the last, should leave the field before the bat- tle began, and that none should remain except those who were 184 THE BATTLE OF BANNOCEBURN. determined to take the issue of victory or death, as God should send it. When the main body of his army was thus placed in order, the King posted Eandolph, with a body of horse, near to the Church of St. Ninian's, commanding him to use the utmost diligence to prevent any succors from being thrown into Stir- ling Castle. He then dispatched James of Douglas, and Sir Kobert Keith, the Mareschal of the Scottish army, in order that they might survey, as nearly as they could, the English force, which was now approaching from Falkirk. They returned with information, that the approach of that vast host was one of the most beautiful and terrible sights which could be seen — that the whole country seemed covered with men- at-arms on horse and foot — that the number of standards, banners, and pennons (all flags of different kinds) made so gallant a show, that the bravest and most numerous host in Christendom might be alarmed to see King Edward moving against them. It was upon the twenty-third of June (1314) the King of Scotland heard the news, that the English army were approach- ing Stirling. He drew out his army, therefore, in the order which he had before resolved on. After a short time, Bruce, who was looking out anxiously for the enemy, saw a body of English cavalry trying to get into Stirling from the eastward. This was the Lord Clifford, who, with a chosen body of eight hundred horse, had been detached to relieve the castle. "See, Eandolph," said the King to his nephew, "there is a rose fallen from your chaplet." By this he meant, that Ran- dolph had lost some honor, by suffering the enemy to pass where he had been stationed to hinder them. Randolph made no reply, but rushed against Clifford with little more than half his number. The Scots were on foot. The English turned to charge them with their lances, and Randolph drew THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 185 up his men in close order to receive the onset. He seemed to be in so much danger, that Douglas asked leave of the King to go and assist him. The King refused him permission. "Let Randolph," he said, "redeem his own fault; I cannot break the order of battle for his sake." Still the danger appeared greater, and the English horse seemed entirely to encompass the small handful of Scottish infantry. "So please you," said Douglas to the King, "my heart will not suffer me to stand idle and see Randolph perish — I must go to his assistance." He rode off accordingly; but long before they had reached the place of combat, they saw the English horses galloping off, many with empty saddles. "Halt!" said Douglas to his men, "Randolph has gained the day; since we were not soon enough to help him in the battle, do not let us lessen his glory by approaching the field." Now, that was nobly done; especially as Douglas and Ran- dolph were always contending which should rise highest in the good opinion of the King and the nation. The van of the English army now came in sight, and a number of their bravest knights drew near to see what the Scots were doing. They saw King Robert dressed in his armor, and distinguished by a gold crown, which he wore over his helmet. He was not mounted on his great war-horse, because he did not expect to fight that evening. But he rode on a little pony up and down the ranks of his army, putting his men in order, and carried in his hand a sort of battle-axe made of steel. When the King saw the English horsemen draw near, he advanced a little before his own men, that he might look at them more nearly. There was a knight among the English, called Sir Henry de Bohun, who thought this would be a good opportunity to gain great fame to himself, and put an end to the war, by killing King Robert. The King being poorly mounted, and having 186 THE BATTLE OF BANNOCKBUBN, no lance, Bohun galloped on him suddenly and furiously, thinking, with his long spear, and his tall powerful horse, easily to bear him down to the ground. King Eobert saw him, and permitted him to come very near, then suddenly turned his pony a little to one side, so that Sir Henry missed him with the lance-point, and was in the act of being carried past him by the career of his horse. But as he passed. King Eobert rose up in his stirrups, and struck Sir Henry on the head with his battle-axe so terrible a blow, that it broke to pieces his iron helmet as if it had been a nut- shell, and hurled him from his saddle. He was dead before he reached the ground. This gallant action was blamed by the Scottish leaders, who thought Bruce ought not to have exposed him- self to so much danger, when the safety of the whole army depended on him. The King only kept looking at his weapon, which was injured by the force of the blow, and said, " I have broken my good battle-axe." The next morning, being the twenty -fourth of June, at break of day, the battle began in terrible earnest. The English as they advanced saw the Scots getting into line. • The Abbot of Inchaffray walked through their ranks bare-footed, and ex- horted them to fight for their freedom. They kneeled down as he passed, and prayed to Heaven for victory. King Edward, who saw this, called out, " They kneel down — they are asking forgiveness." "Yes," said a celebrated English baron, called Ingelram de Umphraville, " but they ask it from God, not from us — these men will conquer, or die upon the field." The English King ordered his men to begin the battle. The archers then bent their bows, and began to shoot so closely together, that the arrows fell like flakes of snow on a Christ- mas day. They killed many of the Scots, and might, as at Falkirk, and other places, have decided the victory; but THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 187 Bruce, as I told you before, was prepared for them. He had in readiness a body of men-at-arms, well mounted, who rode at full gallop among the archers, and as they had no weapons save their bows and arrows, which they could not use when they were attacked hand to hand, they were cut down in great numbers by the Scottish horsemen, and thrown into total confusion. The fine English cavalry then advanced to support their archers, and to attack the Scottish line. But coming over the ground which was dug full of pits, the horses fell into these holes, and the riders lay tumbling about, without any means of defence, and unable to rise, from the weight of their armor. The Englishmen began to fall into general disorder; and the Scottish King, bringing up more of his forces, attacked and pressed them still more closely. On a sudden, while the battle was obstinately maintained on both sides, an event happened which decided the victory. The servants and attendants on the Scottish camp had, as I told you, been sent behind the army to a place afterwards called the Gillies' hill. But when they saw that their mas- ters were likely to gain the day, they rushed from their place of concealment with such weapons as they could get, that they might have their share in the victory and in the spoil. The English, seeing them come suddenly over the hill, mistook this disorderly rabble for a new army coming up to sustain the Scots, and, losing all heart, began to shift every man for himself. Edward himself left the field as fast as he could ride. A valiant knight. Sir Giles de Argentine, much re- nowned in the wars of Palestine, attended the King till he got him out of the press of the combat. But he would retreat no farther. "It is not my custom," he said, "to fly." With that he took leave of the King, set spurs to his horse, and calling out his war-cry of Argentine! Argentine! he 188 THE BATTLE OF BANNOCKBURN. rushed into the thickest of the Scottish ranks, and was killed. The young Earl of Gloucester was also slain, fighting val- iantly. The Scots would have saved him, but as he had not put on his armorial bearings, they did not know him, and he was cut to pieces. Edward first fled to Stirling Castle, and entreated admit- tance; but Sir Philip Mowbray, the governor, reminded the fugitive Sovereign that he was obliged to surrender the castle next day, so Edward was fain to fly through the Torwood, closely pursued by Douglas with a body of cavalry. An odd circumstance happened during the chase, which showed how loosely some of the Scottish barons of that day held their political opinions: As Douglas was riding furiously after Edward, he met a Scottish knight. Sir Laurence Abernethy, with twenty horse. Sir Laurence had hitherto owned the English interest, and was bringing this band of followers to serve King Edward's army. But learning from Douglas that the English King was entirely defeated, he changed sides on the spot, and was easily prevailed upon to join Douglas in pursuing the unfortunate Edward, with the very followers whom he had been leading to join his standard. Douglas and Abernethy continued the chase, not giving King Edward time to alight from horseback even for an instant, and followed him as far as Dunbai, where the Eng- lish had still a friend, in the governor, Patrick Earl of March. The Earl received Edward in his forlorn condition, and fur- nished him with a fishing skiff, or small ship, in which he escaped to England, having entirely lost his fine army, and a great number of his bravest nobles. The English never before or afterwards, whether in France or Scotland, lost so dreadful a battle as that of Bannockburn, nor did the Scots ever gain one of the same importance. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 189 Many of the best and bravest of the English nobility and gentry, as I have said, lay dead on the field; a great many more were made prisoners; and the whole of King Edward's immense army was dispersed or destroyed.® The English, after this great defeat, were no longer in a condition to support their pretensions to be masters of Scot- land, or to continue, as they had done for nearly twenty years, to send armies into that country to overcome it. On the con- trary, they became for a time scarce able to defend their own frontiers against King Robert and his soldiers. There were several battles fought within England itself, in which the English had greatly the worst. One of these took place near Mitton, in Yorkshire. So many priests took part in the fight, that the Scots called it the Chapter of Mitton, — a meeting of the clergymen belonging to a cathedral being called a Chapter. There was a great slaughter in and after the action. The Scots laid waste the country of England as far as the gates of York, and enjoyed a considerable superior- ity over their ancient enemies, who had so lately threatened to make them subjects of England. Thus did Robert Bruce arise from the condition of an exile, hunted with bloodhounds like a stag or beast of prey, to the 6 " Multitudes of the English were drowned when attempting to cross the river Forth. Many, in their flight, fell into the pits, which they seem to have avoided in their first attack, and were there suffocated or slain ; others, who vainly endeavored to pass the rugged banks of the stream called Bannock- burn, were slain in that quarter ; so that this little river was so completely heaped up with the dead bodies of men and horses, that men might pass dry over the mass as if it were a bridge. Thirty thousand of the English were left dead upon the field ; and amongst these two hundred belted knights, and seven hundred esquires. A large body of Welsh fled from the field, under the command of Sir Maurice Berkclay, but the greater part of them were slain, or taken prisoners, before they reached England. Such, also, might have been the fate of the King of England himself, had Bruce been able to spare a suffi- cient body of cavalry to follow up the fight." ... " The loss of the Scots in the battle was incredibly small, and proves how effectually the Scottish squires had repelled the English cavalry." —Tytler's "History oi Scotland." 190 THE EXPLOITS OF EDWABD BRUCE. rank of an independent sovereign, universally acknowledged to be one of the wisest and bravest kings who then lived. The nation of Scotland was also raised once more from the situation of a distressed and conquered province to that of a free and independent state, governed by its own laws, and subject to its own princes; and although the country was, after the Bruce' s death, often subjected to great loss and dis- tress, both by the hostility of the English, and by the un- happy civil wars among the Scots themselves, yet they never afterwards lost the freedom for which Wallace had laid down his life, and which King Robert had recovered, not less by his wisdom than by his weapons. And therefore most just it is, that while the country of Scotland retains any recollection of its history, the memory of those brave warriors and faith- ful patriots should be remembered with honor and gratitude. CONCERNING THE EXPLOITS OF EDWARD BRUCE, THE DOUGLAS, RANDOLPH, EARL OF MURRAY, AND THE DEATH OF ROBERT BRUCE. (1315-1330.) You will naturally be curious to hear what became of Edward, the brother of Robert Bruce, who was so courageous, and at the same time so rash. You must know that the Irish, at that time, had been almost fully conquered by the English; but becoming weary of them, the Irish chiefs, or at least a great many of them, invited Edward Bruce to come over, drive out the English, and become their king. He was willing enough to go, for he had always a high courageous spirit, and desired to obtain fame and dominion by fighting. Edward Bruce was as good a soldier as his brother, but not so THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS, 191 prudent and cautious ; for, except in the affair of killing the Eed Comyn, which was a wicked and violent action, Kobert Bruce, in his latter days, showed himself as wise as he was courageous. However, he was well contented that his brother Edward, who had always fought so bravely for him, should be raised up to be King of Ireland. Therefore King Eobert not only gave him an army to assist in making the conquest, but passed over the sea to Ireland himself in person, with a con- siderable body of troops to assist him. The Bruces gained several battles, and penetrated far into Ireland ; but the Eng- lish forces were too numerous, and so many of the Irish joined with them rather than with Edward Bruce, that King Eobert and his brother were obliged to retreat before them. The chief commander of the English was a great soldier, called Sir Edmund Butler, and he had assembled a much greater army than Edward Bruce and his brother King Eobert had to oppose him. The Scots were obliged to retreat every morning, that they might not be forced to battle by an army more numerous than their own. I have often told you, that King Eobert the Bruce was a wise and a good prince. But a circumstance happened during this retreat, which showed he was also a kind and humane man. It was one morning, when the English, and their Irish auxiliaries, were pressing hard upon Bruce, who had given his army orders to continue a hasty retreat ; for to have risked a battle with a much more numerous army, and in the midst of a country which favored his enemies, would have been ex- tremely imprudent. On a sudden, just as King Eobert was about to mount his horse, he heard a woman shrieking in despair. "What is the matter?" said the King; and he was informed by his attendants, that a poor woman, a laundress, or washerwoman, mother of an infant who had just been born, was about to be left behind the army, as being too weak to 192 THE EXPLOITS OF EDWARD BRUCE. travel. The mother was shrieking for fear of falling into the hands of the Irish, who were accounted very cruel, and there were no carriages nor means of sending the woman and her infant on in safety. They must needs be abandoned if the army retreated. King Robert was silent for a moment when he heard this story, being divided betwixt the feelings of humanity, occa- sioned by the poor woman's distress, and the danger to which a halt would expose his army. At last he looked round on his officers, with eyes which kindled like fire. "Ah, gentle- men, " he said, " never let it be said that a man who was born of a woman, and nursed by a woman's tenderness, should leave a mother and an infant to the mercy of barbarians ! In the name of God, let the odds and the risk be what they will, I will fight Edmund Butler rather than leave these poor creat- ures behind me. Let the army, therefore, draw up in line of battle, instead of retreating." The story had a singular conclusion; for the English gen- eral, seeing that Eobert the Bruce halted and offered him battle, and knowing that the Scottish king was one of the best generals then living, conceived that he must have received some large supply of forces, and was afraid to attack him. And thus Bruce had an opportunity to send off the poor woman and her child, and then to retreat at his leisure, with- out suffering any inconvenience from the halt. But Robert was obliged to leave the conquest of Ireland to his brother Edward, being recalled by pressing affairs to his own country. Edward, who was rash as he was brave, en- gaged, against the advice of his best officers, in battle with an English general, called Sir Piers de Birmingham. The Scots were surrounded on all sides, but continued to defend them- selves valiantly, and Edward Bruce showed the example by fighting in the very front of the battle. At length a strong THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 193 English Champion, called John Maupas, engaged Edward hand to hand ; and they fought till they killed each other. Maupas was found lying after the battle upon the body of Bruce ; both were dead men. After Edward Bruce 's death, the Scots gave up further attempts to conquer Ireland. Eobert Bruce continued to reign gloriously for several years, and was so constantly victorious over the English, that the Scots seemed during his government to have acquired a complete superiority over their neighbors. But then we must remember, that Edward the Second, who then reigned in Eng- land, was a foolish prince, and listened to bad counsels; so that it is no wonder that he was beaten by so wise and experienced a general as Eobert Bruce, who had fought his way to the crown through so many disasters, and acquired in conse- quence so much renown, that, as I have often said, he was generally accounted one of the best soldiers and wisest sover- eigns of his time. In the last year of Eobert the Bruce 's reign, he became extremely sickly and infirm, chiefly owing to a disorder called the leprosy, which he had caught during the hardships and misfortunes of his youth, when he was so frequently obliged to hide himself in woods and morasses, without a roof to shelter him. He lived at a castle called Cardross, on the beautiful banks of the river Clyde, near to where it joins the sea; and his chief amusement was to go upon the river, and down to the sea in a ship, which he kept for his pleasure. He was no longer able to sit upon his war-horse, or to lead his army to the field. While Bruce was in this feeble state, Edward the Second, King of England, died, and was succeeded by his son Edward the Third. He turned out afterwards to be one of the wisest and bravest kings whom England ever had; but when he first mounted the throne he was very young, and under the entire 194 THE EXPLOITS OF DOUGLAS AND RANDOLPH. management of his mother, who governed by means of a wicked favorite called Mortimer. The war between the English and the Scots still lasting at the time, Bruce sent his two great commanders, the Good Lord James Douglas, and Thomas Randolph, Earl of Murray, to lay waste the counties of Northumberland and Durham, and distress the English as much as they could. Their soldiers were about twenty thousand in number, all lightly armed, and mounted on horses that were but small in height, but excessively active. The men themselves carried no provision, except a bag of oatmeal ; and each had at his saddle a small plate of iron called a girdle, on which, when they pleased, they could bake the oatmeal into cakes. They killed the cattle of the English, as they travelled through the country, roasted the flesh on wooden spits, or boiled it in the skins of the animals themselves, putting in a little water with the beef, to prevent the fire from burning the hide to pieces. This was rough cookery. They made their shoes, or rather sandals, in as coarse a way ; cutting them out of the raw hides of the cattle, and fitting them to their ankles, like what are now called short gaiters. As this sort of buskin had the hairy side of the hide outermost, the English called those who wore them rough-footed Scots, and sometimes, from the color of the hide, red-shanks. As such forces needed to carry nothing with them, either for provisions or ammunition, the Scots moved with amazing speed, from mountain to mountain, and from glen to glen, pillaging and destroying the country wheresoever they came. In the meanwhile, the young King of England pursued them with a much larger army; but, as it was encumbered by the necessity of carrying provisions in great quantities, and by the slow motions of men in heavy armor, they could not come up with the Scots, although they saw every day the smoke of THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 195 the houses and villages which they were burning. The King of England was extremely angry ; for, though only a boy of sixteen years old, he longed to fight the Scots, and to chastise them for the mischief they were doing to his country; and at length he grew so impatient, that he offered a large reward to any one who would show him where the Scottish army were. At length, after the English host had suffered severe hard- ships, from want of provisions, and fatiguing journeys through fords, and swamps, and morasses, a gentleman named Rokeby came into the camp, and claimed the reward which the King had offered. He told the King that he had been made prisoner by the Scots, and that they said they should be as glad to meet the English King as he to see them. Accord- ingly, Rokeby guided the English army to the place where the Scots lay encamped. But the English King was no nearer to the battle which he desired; for Douglas and Randolph, knowing the force and numbers of the English army, had taken up their camp on a steep hill, at the bottom of which ran a deep river, called the Wear, having a channel filled with large stones, so that there was no possibility for the English to attack the Scots without crossing the water, and then climbing up the steep hill in the very face of their enemy; a risk which was too great to be attempted. Then the King sent a message of defiance to the Scottish generals, inviting them either to draw back their forces, and allow him freedom to cross the river, and time to place his army in order of battle on the other side, that they might fight fairly, or offering, if they liked it better, to permit them to cross over to his side without opposition, that they might join battle on a fair field. Randolph and Douglas did noth- ing but laugh at this message. They said, that when they fought, it should be at their own pleasure, and not because the 196 THE EXPLOITS OF DOUGLAS AND RANDOLPH. King of England chose to ask for a battle. They reminded him, insultingly, how they had been in his country for many days, burning, taking spoil, and doing what they thought fit. If the King was displeased with this, they said, he must find his way across the river to fight them, the best way he could. The English King, determined not to quit sight of the Scots, encamped on the opposite side of the river to watch their motions, thinking that want of provisions would oblige them to quit their strong position on the mountains. But the Scots once more showed Edward their dexterity in marching, by leaving their encampment, and taking up another post, even stronger and more difficult to approach than the first which they had occupied. King Edward followed, and again encamped opposite to his dexterous and troublesome enemies, desirous to bring them to a battle, when he might hope to gain an easy victory, having more than double the number of the Scottish army, all troops of the very best quality. While the armies lay thus opposed to each other, Douglas resolved to give the young King of England a lesson in the art of war. At the dead of night, he left the Scottish camp with a small body of chosen horse, not above two hundred, well armed. He crossed the river in deep silence, and came to the English camp, which was but carelessly guarded. See- ing this, Douglas rode past the English sentinels as if he had been an officer of the English army, saying — "Ha, Saint George! you keep bad watch here." — In those days, you must know, the English used to swear by Saint George, as the Scots did by Saint Andrew. Presently after, Douglas heard an English soldier, who lay stretched by the fire, say to his comrade, " I cannot tell what is to happen to us in this place; but, for my part, I have a great fear of the Black Douglas playing us some trick." "You shall have cause to say so," said Douglas to himself. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 197 When lie had thus got into the midst of the English camp without being discovered, he drew his sword, and cut asunder the ropes of a tent, calling out his usual war-cry, " Douglas, Douglas! English thieves, you are all dead men." His fol- lowers immediately began to cut down and overturn the tents, cutting and stabbing the English soldiers as they endeavored to get to arms. Douglas forced his way to the pavilion of the King him- self, and very nearly carried the young prince prisoner out of the middle of his great army. Edward's chaplain, however, and many of his household, stood to arms bravely in his defence, while the young King escaped by creeping away beneath the canvas of his tent. The chaplain and several of the King's officers were slain; but the whole camp was now alarmed and in arms, so that Douglas was obliged to retreat, which he did by bursting through the English at the side of the camp opposite to that by which he had entered. Being separated from his men in the confusion, he was in great dan- ger of being slain by an Englishman who encountered him with a huge club. This man he killed, but with considerable difficulty; and then blowing his horn to collect his soldiers, who soon gathered around him, he returned to the Scottish camp, having sustained very little loss. Edward, much mortified at the insult which he had re- ceived, became still more desirous of chastising those auda- cious adversaries; and one of them at least was not unwilling to afford him an opportunity of revenge. This was Thomas Randolph, Earl of Murray. He asked Douglas, when he returned to the Scottish camp, " What he had done? " — " We have drawn some blood." — "Ah," said the Earl, "had we gone all together to the night attack, we should have discom- fited them." — "It might well have been so," said Douglas, "but the risk would have been too great." — "Then will we 198 TUE EXPLOITS OF DOUGLAS AND RANDOLPH, fight them in open battle, " said Randolph, " for if we remain here, we shall in time be famished for want of provisions." — "Not so," replied Douglas; "we will deal with this great army of the English as the fox did with the fisherman in the fable." — "And how was that?" said the Earl of Murray. — Hereupon the Douglas told him this story : — "A fisherman," he said, "had made a hut by a river side, that he might follow his occupation of fishing. Now, one night he had gone out to look after his nets, leaving a small fire in his hut; and when he came back, behold there was a fox in the cabin, taking the liberty to eat one of the finest salmon he had taken. *Ho, Mr. Robber! ' said the fisherman, drawing his sword, and standing in the doorway to prevent the fox's escape, 'you shall presently die the death.' The poor fox looked for some hole to get out at, but saw none; whereupon he pulled down with his teeth a mantle, which was lying on the bed, and dragged it across the fire. The fisherman ran to snatch his mantle from the fire — the fox flew out at the door with the salmon; and so," said Douglas, "shall we escape the great English army by subtlety, and without risking battle with so large a force." Randolph agreed to act by Douglas's counsel, and the Scottish army kindled great fires through their encampment, and made a noise and shouting, and blowing of horns, as if they meant to remain all night there, as before. But in the meantime, Douglas had caused a road to be made through two miles of a great morass which lay in their rear. This was done by cutting down to the bottom of the bog, and filling the trench with faggots of wood. Without this contrivance it would have been impossible that the army could have crossed; and through this passage, which the English never suspected, Douglas and Randolph, and all their men, moved at the dead of night. They did not leave so much as an errand-boy THE BEAUT OF OAK BOOKS. I9d behind, and so bent their march towards Scotland, leaving the English disappointed and affronted. Great was their wonder in the morning, when they saw the Scottish camp empty, and found no living men in it, but two or three Eng- lish prisoners tied to trees, whom they had left with an insulting message to the King of England, saying, "If he were displeased with what they had done, he might come and revenge himself in Scotland." The place where the Scots fixed this famous encampment, was in the forest of Weardale, in the bishopric of Durham ; and the road which they cut for the purpose of their retreat is still called the Shorn Moss. After this a peace was concluded with Eobert Bruce, on terms highly honorable to Scotland; for the English King renounced all pretensions to the sovereignty of the country, and, moreover, gave his sister, a princess called Joanna, to be wife to Eobert Bruce 's son, called David. This treaty was very advantageous to the Scots. It was called the treaty of Northampton, because it was concluded at that town, in the year 1328. Good King Eobert did not long survive this joyful event. He was not aged more than four-and-fifty years, but, as I said before, his bad health was caused by the hardships which he sustained during his youth, and at length he became very ill. Finding that he could not recover, he assembled around his bedside the nobles and counsellors in whom he most trusted. He told them, that now, being on his death-bed, he sorely repented all his misdeeds, and particularly, that he had, in his passion, killed Comyn with his own hand, in the church and before the altar. He said that if he had lived, he had intended to go to Jerusalem, to make war upon the Saracens who held the Holy Land, as some expiation for the evil deeds he had done. But since he was about to die, he requested of 200 THE DEATH OF ROBERT BRUCE. his dearest friend and bravest warrior, and that was the Good Lord James Douglas, that he should carry his heart to the Holy Land. To make you understand the meaning of this request, I must tell you, that at this time a people called Saracens, who believed in the false prophet Mahomet, had obtained by con- quest possession of Jerusalem, and the other cities and places which are mentioned in the Holy Scripture; and the Chris- tians of Europe, who went thither as pilgrims to worship at these places, where so many miracles had been wrought, were insulted by these heathen Saracens. Hence many armies of Christians went from their own countries out of every king- dom of Europe, to fight against these Saracens ; and believed that they were doing a great service to religion, and that what sins they had committed would be pardoned by God Almighty, because they had taken a part in this which they called a holy warfare. You may remember that Bruce thought of going upon this expedition when he was in despair of recovering the crown of Scotland:, and now he desired his heart to be carried to Jerusalem after his death, and requested Lord James of Douglas to take the charge of it. Douglas wept bitterly as he accepted this office, — the last mark of the Bruce's confidence and friendship. The King soon afterwards expired; and his heart was taken out from his body and embalmed, that is, prepared with spices and perfumes, that it might remain a long time fresh and uncorrupted. Then the Douglas caused a case of silver to be made, into wliich he put the Bruce 's heart, and wore it around his neck, by a string of silk and gold. And he set forward for the Holy Land, with a gallant train of the bravest men in Scotland, who, to show their value and sorrow for their brave King Robert Bruce, resolved to attend his heart to the city of Jerusalem. It had been much better for Scotland if the THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 201 Douglas and his companions had staid at home to defend their own country, which was shortly afterwards in great want of their assistance. Neither did Douglas ever get to the end of his journey. In going to Palestine, he landed in Spain, where the Saracen King, or Sultan of Granada, called Osmyn, was invading the realms of Alphonso, the Spanish King of Castile. King Alphonso received Douglas with great honor and distinction, and people came from all parts to see the great soldier, whose fame was well known through every part of the Christian world. King Alphonso easily persuaded the Scottish Earl that he would do good service to the Christian cause, by assisting him to drive back the Saracens of Granada before proceeding on his voyage to Jerusalem. Lord Douglas and his followers went accordingly to a great battle against Osmyn, and had little difficulty in defeating the Saracens who were opposed to them. But being ignorant of the mode of fighting among the cavalry of the East, the Scots pursued the chase too far, and the Moors, when they saw them scattered and separated from each other, turned suddenly back, with a loud cry of Allah illah Allah, which is their shout of battle, and surrounded such of the Scottish knights and squires as had advanced too hastily, and were dispersed from each other. In this new skirmish, Douglas saw Sir William St. Clair of Eoslyn fighting desperately, surrounded by many Moors, who were hewing at him with their sabres. "Yonder worthy knight will be slain," Douglas said, "unless he have instant help." With that he galloped to his rescue, but presently was himself also surrounded by many Moors. When he found the enemy press so thick round him, as to leave him no chance of escaping, the Earl took from his neck the Bruce's heart, and speaking to it, as he would have done to the King had he been alive, — "Pass first in fight," he said, "as thou wert 202 THE DEATH OF ROBERT BRUCE, wont to do, and Douglas will follow thee, or die." He then threw the King's heart among the enemy, and rushing for- ward to the place where it fell, was there slain. His body was found lying above the silver case, as if it had been his last object to defend the Bruce' s heart. This Good Lord James of Douglas was one of the best and wisest soldiers that ever drew a sword. He was said to have fought in seventy battles, being beaten in thirteen, and vic- torious in fifty-seven. The English accused him of being cruel; and it is said that he had such a hatred of the English archers, that when he made one of them prisoner, he would not dismiss him until he was either blinded of his right eye, or had the first finger of his right hand struck off. The Douglas's Larder also seems a very cruel story; but the hatred at that time betwixt the two countries was at a high pitch, and Lord James was much irritated at the death of his faith- ful servant Thomas Dickson; on ordinary occasions he was mild and gentle to his prisoners. The Scottish historians describe the Good Lord James as one who was never dejected by bad fortune, or unduly elated by that which was good. They say he was modest and gentle in time of peace, but had a very different countenance upon a day of battle. He was tall, strong, and well made, of a swarthy complexion, with dark hair, from which he was called the Black Douglas. He lisped a little in his speech, but in a manner which became him very much. Notwithstanding the many battles in which he had fought, his face had escaped without a wound. A brave Spanish knight at the court of King Alphonso, whose face was scarred by the marks of Moorish sabres, expressed wonder that Douglas's countenance should be unmarked with wounds. Douglas replied modestly, he thanked God, who had always enabled his hands to guard and protect his face. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 203 Many of Douglas's followers were slain in the battle in which he himself fell. The rest resolved not to proceed on their journey to Palestine, but to return to Scotland. Since the time of the Good Lord James, the Douglases have carried upon their shields a bloody heart, with a crown upon it, in memory of this expedition of Lord James to Spain with the Bruce's heart. In ancient times men painted such emblems on their shields that they might be known by them in battle, for their helmet hid their face; and now, as men no longer wear armor in battle, the devices, as they are called, belonging to particular families, are engraved upon their seals, or upon their silver plate, or painted upon their carriages. Thus, for example, there was one of the brave knights who was in the company of Douglas, and was appointed to take charge of Bruce's heart homewards again, who was called Sir Simon Lockhard of Lee. He took afterwards for his device, and painted on his shield, a man's heart, with a padlock upon it, in memory of Bruce's heart, which was padlocked in the silver case. For this reason, men changed Sir Simon's name from Lockhard to Lockheart, and all who are descended from Sir Simon are called Lockhart to this day. Did you ever hear of such a name. Master Hugh Little John? Well, such of the Scottish knights as remained alive returned to their own country. They brought back the heart of the Bruce, and the bones of the Good Lord James. These last were interred in the church of St. Bride, where Thomas Dickson and Douglas held so terrible a Palm Sunday. The Bruce's heart was buried below the high altar in Melrose Abbey. As for his body, it was laid in the sepulchre in the midst of the church of Dunfermline, under a marble stone. But the church becoming afterwards ruinous, and the roof falling down with age, the monument was broken to pieces, and nobody could tell where it stood. But a little whiJa 204 THE DEATH OF ROBERT BRUCE. before Master Hugh Littlejohn was born, which I take to be six or seven years ago, when they were repairing the church at Dunfermline, and removing the rubbish, lo! they found fragments of the marble tomb of Eobert Bruce. Then they began to dig farther, thinking to discover the body of this celebrated monarch ; and at length they came to the skeleton of a tall man, and they knew it must be that of King Robert, both as he was known to have been buried in a winding sheet of cloth of gold, of which many fragments were found about this skeleton, and also because the breastbone appeared to have been sawed through, in order to take out the heart. So orders were sent from the King's Court of Exchequer to guard the bones carefully, until a new tomb should be prepared, into which they were laid with profound respect. A great many gentlemen and ladies attended, and almost all the common people in the neighborhood ; and as the church could not hold half the numbers, the people were allowed to pass through it, one after another, that each one, the poorest as well as the richest, might see all that remained of the great King Robert Bruce, who restored the Scottish monarchy. Many people shed tears ; for there was the wasted skull, which once was the head that thought so wisely and boldly for his country's deliverance ; and there was the dry bone, which had once been the sturdy arm that killed Sir Henry de Bohun, between the two armies, at a single blow, on the evening before the battle of Bannockburn. It is more than five hundred years since th6 body of Bruce was first laid into the tomb ; and how many many millions of men have died since that time, whose bones could not be recognized, nor their names known, any more than those of inferior animals ! It was a great thing to see that the wisdom, courage, and patriotism of a King, could preserve him for such a long time in the memory of the people over whom he once THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 205 reigned. But then, my dear child, you must remember, tha' it is only desirable to be remembered for praiseworthy and patriotic actions, such as those of Kobert Bruce. It would be better for a prince to be forgotten like the meanest peasant, than to be recollected for actions of tyranny or oppression. ALLIN A DALE. Come listen to me, you gallants so free, All you that love mirth for to hear, And I will tell you of a bold outlaw, That lived in Nottinghamshire. As Kobin Hood in the forest stood, All under the greenwood tree. There was he ware of a brave young man, As fine as fine might be. The youngster was clothed in scarlet red, In scarlet fine and gay, And he did frisk it over the plain. And chanted a roundelay. As Robin Hood next morning stood, Amongst the leaves so gay, There did he spy the same young man Come drooping along the way. The scarlet he wore the day before, It was clean cast away ; And every step he fetcht a sigh, " Alack and a well a day ! " 206 ALLIN A BALE. Then stepped forth brave Little John, And Nick, the miller's son, Which made the young man bend his bow, When as he saw them come. " Stand off, stand off, " the young man said, " What is your will with me ? " " You must come before our master straight, Under yon greenwood tree." And when he came bold Robin before, Eobin askt him courteously, " O hast thou any money to spare For my merry men and me?" " I have no money, " the young man said, "But five shillings and a ring; And that I have kept this seven long years, To have it at my wedding. " Yesterday I should have married a maid, But she is now from me tane,^ And chosen to be an old knight's delight, Whereby my poor heart is slain." "What is thy name?" then said Robin Hood, " Come tell me without any fail : " "By the faith of my body," then said the young man, "My name it is Allin a Dale." "What wilt thou give me," said Robin Hood, " In ready gold or fee. To help thee to thy true-love again. And deliver her unto thee?" 1 tane, taken. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 207 " I have no money, '' then quoth the young man, •• No ready gold nor fee, But I will swear upon a book Thy true servant for to be." "How many miles is it to thy true-love? Come tell me without any guile : " "By the faith of my body," then said the young man, "It is but five little mile." Then Kobin he hasted over the plain, He did neither stint ^ nor lin,* Until he came unto the church Where Allin should keep his wedding. "What dost thou here? " the bishop he said, " I prithee now tell to me : " "I am a bold harper," quoth Eobin Hood, "And the best in the north country." " O welcome, O welcome, " the bishop he said, " That music best pleaseth me ; " "You shall have no music," quoth Robin Hood, "Till the bride and bridegroom I see." With that came in a wealthy knight, Which was both grave and old, And after him a finikin * lass, Did shine like glistering ^ gold* "This is no fit match," quoth bold Robin Hood, "That you do seem to make here; For since we are come unto the church. The bride she shall choose her own dear." 2 Stint, stop entirely. * finikin, dainty. * lin, rest. * glistering, glittering. 208 ALLIN A BALE. Then Kobin Hood put his horn to his mouth, And blew blasts two or three ; When four and twenty bowmen bold Came leaping over the lea. And when they came into the church-yard, Marching all in a row, The first man was Allin a Dale, To give bold Eobin his bow. "This is thy true-love," Robin he said, " Young Allin, as I hear say ; And you shall be married at this same time, Before we depart away." "That shall not be," the bishop he said, "For thy word shall not stand; They shall be three times askt in the church, As the law is of our land." Robin Hood pulld off the bishop's coat. And put it upon Little John ; "By the faith of my body," then Robin said, "This cloth doth make thee a man." When Little John went into the quire. The people began for to laugh; He askt them seven times in the church, Lest three times should not be enough. " Who gives me this maid," then said Little John; Quoth Robin, " That do I, And he that doth take her from Allin a Dale Full dearly he shall her buy." You ARE OLD, Father William. After the drawings by Sir John Tenniel. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 209 And thus having ended this merry wedding, The bride lookt as fresh as a queen, And so they returned to the merry greenwood, Amongst the leaves so green. YOU ARE OLD, FATHER WILLIAM. From Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. Lewis Carroll "You are old, father William," the young man said, "And your hair has become very white; And yet you incessantly stand on your head — Do you think, at your age, it is right? " "In my youth," father William replied to his son, "I feared it might injure the brain; But now that I'm perfectly sure I have none, Why, I do it again and again." "You are old," said the youth, "as I mentioned before, And have grown most uncommonly fat; Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door — Pray, what is the reason of that?" "In my youth," said the sage, as he shook his gray locks, " I kept all my limbs very supple By the use of this ointment — one shilling the box — Allow me to sell you a couple." "You are old," said the youth, "and your jaws are too weak Eor anything tougher than suet; Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak: Pray, how did you manage to do it?" 210 YOUTH AND AGE. "In my youth," said his father, "I took to the law, And argued each case with my wife ; And the muscular strength, which it gave to my jaw, Has lasted the rest of my life." "You are old," said the youth; "one would hardly suppose That your eye was as steady as ever ; Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose — What made you so awfully clever?" "I have answered three questions, and that is enough," Said his father; "don't give yourself airs! Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff? Be off, or I'll kick you down stairs! " YOUTH AND AGE. WilUam Shakespeare. Crabbed age and youth cannot live together ; Youth is full of pleasance, age is full of care ; Youth like summer morn, age like winter weather ; Youth like summer brave, age like winter bare. Youth is full of sport, age's breath is short ; Youth is nimble, age is lame ; Youth is hot and bold, age is weak and cold ; Youth is wild, and age is tame. Age, I do abhor thee ; youth, T do adore thee ; 0, my love, my love is young ! Age, I do defy thee : 0, sweet shepherd, hie thee, For methinks thou stay'st too long. •'You ARE OLD, Father William." After the drawings by Sir John Tenniel. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS, 211 THE BALLAD OF EAST AND WEST. Rudyard Kipling. Oh, East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet, Till Earth and Sky stand presently at God^s great Judgment Seat; But there is neither East nor West, Border, nor Breed, nor Birth, When two strong men stand face to face, thd* they come from the ends of the earth. Kamal is out with twenty men to raise the Border side, And he has lifted the ColoneFs mare that is the Colonel's pride : He has lifted her out of the stable-door between the dawn and the day, And turned the calkins upon her feet, and ridden her far away. Then up and spoke the Colonel's son that led a troop of the Guides : " Is there never a man of all my men can say where Kamal hides?" Then up and spoke Mahommed Khan, the son of the Eessaldar, ' " If ye know the track of the morning-mist, ye know where his pickets are. At dusk he harries the Abazai — at dawn he is into Bonair, But he must go by Fort Bukloh to his own place to fare. So if ye gallop to Fort Bukloh as fast as a bird can fly. By the favor of God ye may cut him off ere he win to the Tongue of Jagai, But if he be passed the Tongue of Jagai, right swiftly turn ye then, For the length and the breadth of that grisly plain is sown with KamaPs men. 212 THE BALLAD OF EAST AND WEST. There is rock to the left, and rock to the right, and low lean thorn between, And ye may hear a breech-bolt snick where never a man is seen." The ColonePs son has taken a horse, and a raw rough dun was he, With the mouth of a bell, and the heart of Hell, and the head of the gallows-tree. The Colonel's son to the Fort has won, they bid him stay to eat — Who rides at the tail of a Border thief, he sits not long at his meat. He's up and away from Fort Bukloh as fast as he can fly. Till he was aware of his father's mare in the gut of the Tongue of Jagai, Till he was aware of his father's mare with Kamal upon her back, And when he could spy the white of her eye, he made the pistol crack. He has fired once, he has fired twice, but the whistling ball went wide. " Ye shoot like a soldier," Kamal said. " Show now if ye can ride." It's up and over the Tongue of Jagai, as blown dust-devils go. The dun he fled like a stag of ten, but the mare like a barren doe. The dun he leaned against the bit and slugged his head above. But the red mare played with the snaffle-bars, as a maiden plays with a glove. There was rock to the left, and rock to the right, and low lean thorn between, And thrice he heard a breech-bolt snick the' never a man was THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 213 They have ridden the low moon out of the sky, their hoofs drum up the dawn, The dun he went like a wounded bull, but the mare like a new- roused fawn. The dun he fell at a water-course — in a woful heap fell he. And Kamal has turned the red mare back, and pulled the rider free. He has knocked the pistol out of his hand — small room was there to strive, " 'Twas only by favor of mine," quoth he, " ye rode so long alive : There was not a rock for twenty mile, there was not a clump of tree, But covered a man of my own men with his rifle cocked on his knee. If I had raised my bridle-hand, as I have held it low, The little jackals that flee so fast were feasting all in a row : If I had bowed my head on my breast, as I have held it high. The kite that whistles above us now were gorged till she could not fly.'' Lightly answered the ColonePs son : — "Do good to bird and beast, But count who come for the broken meats before thou makest a feast. If there should follow a thousand swords to carry my bones away, Belike the price of a jackal's meal were more than a thief could pay. They will feed their horse on the standing crop, their men on the garnered grain. The thatch of the byres will serve their fires when all the cattle are slain. But if thou thinkest the price be fair, — thy brethren wait to sup, 214 * THE BALLAD OF EAST AND WEST. The hound is kin to the jackal-spawn, — howl, dog, and call them up ! And if thou thinkest the price be high, in steer and gear and stack, Give me my father's mare again, and I'll fight my own way back!" Kamal has gripped him by the hand and set him upon his feet. "No talk shall be of dogs," said he, "when wolf and grey wolf meet. May I eat dirt if thou hast hurt of me in deed or breath ; What dam of lances brought thee forth to jest at the dawn with Death?" Lightly answered the Colonel's son : " I hold by the blood of my clan : Take up the mare for my father's gift — by God, she has carried a man ! " The red mare ran to the Colonel's son, and nuzzled against his breast, "We be two strong men," said Kamal then, "but she loveth the younger best. So she shall go with a lifter's dower, my turquoise-studded rein. My broidered saddle and saddle-cloth, and silver stirrups twain ! " The Colonel's son a pistol drew and held its muzzle end, " Ye have taken the one from a foe," said he ; " will ye take the mate from a friend ? " " A gift for a gift," said Kamal straight ; " a limb for the risk of a limb. Thy father has sent his son to me, I'll send my son to him ! " With that he whistled his only son, that dropped from a mountain-crest — He trod the ling like a buck in spring, and he looked like a lance in rest. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 215 *' Now here is thy master," Kamal said, " who leads a troop of the Guides, And thou must ride at his left side as shield on shoulder rides. Till Death or I cut loose the tie, at camp and board and bed. Thy life is his — thy fate it is to guard him with thy head. So thou must eat the White Queen's meat, and all her foes are thine, And thou must harry thy father's hold for the peace of the Border-line, And thou must make a trooper tough and hack thy way to power — Belike they will raise thee to Eessaldar when I am hanged in Peshawur." They have looked each other between the eyes, and there they found no fault. They have taken the Oath of the Brother-in-Blood on leavened bread and salt : They have taken the Oath of the Brother-in-Blood on fire and fresh-cut sod. On the hilt and the haft of the Khyber knife, and the Wondrous Names of God. The Colonel's son he rides the mare and Kamal's boy the dun, And two have come back to Fort Bukloh where there went forth but one. And when they drew to the Quarter-Guard, full twenty swords flew clear — There was not a man but carried his feud with the blood of the mountaineer. 216 INCIDENT OF THE FRENCH CAMP, " Ha' done ! ha' done ! " said the Colonel's son. " Put up the steel at your sides ! Last night ye had struck at a Border thief — to-night 'tis a man of the Guides ! " Oh, East is East, and West is West, and never the two shall meet, Till Earth and Sky stand presently at God's great Judgment Seat; But there is neither East nor West, Border, nor Breed, nor Birth, When two strong men stand face to face, thd' they come from the ends of the earth. INCIDENT OF THE FRENCH CAMP. Robert Browning. You know, we French stormed Eatisbon : A mile or so away, On a little mound, Napoleon Stood on our storming-day ; With neck out-thrust, you fancy how, Legs wide, arms locked behind, As if to balance the prone brow Oppressive with its mind. Just as perhaps he mused " My plans That soar, to earth may fall. Let once my army-leader Lannes Waver at yonder wall," — THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 217 Out 'twixt the battery-smokes there flew A rider, bound on bound Full-galloping ; nor bridle drew Until he reached the mound. Then off there flung in smiling joy, And held himself erect By just his horse's mane, a boy : You hardly could suspect — (So tight he kept his lips compressed, Scarce any blood came through) You looked twice ere you saw his breast Was all but shot in two. " Well,'' cried he, " Emperor, by God's grace We've got you Katisbon ! The Marshal's in the market-place. And you'll be there anon To see your flag-bird flap his vans Where I, to heart's desire. Perched him ! " The chief's eye flashed ; his plans Soared up again like fire. The chief's eye flashed ; but presently Softened itself, as sheathes A film the mother-eagle's eye When her bruised eaglet breathes ; '* You're wounded ! " " Nay," the soldier's pride Touched to the quick, he said : " I'm killed, Sire ! " And his chief beside Smiling the boy fell dead. 218 LOBD ullin's daughteb. HERO AND LEANDER, OR THE BOY'S HELLESPONT. Charles Tennyson Turner. No colder local records did I crave, Two lovers' names were all my Hellespont ; How oft, methought, the swimming youth was wont To kiss the waters, where the lighted wave Came trembling out from Sestos ! When the gale Dimm'd his fond eyes, and chilPd each supple limb, I broke my heart for both, without avail. I wept with her ! I sobb'd and sank with him ! And if at times the historic muse would fill The strait with forms more secular and vast. The torch of Hero lived behind them still ! And wide-spread sails of war ran glowing past Love's watch-fire, till, again, the impassion'd light Burst on the lonely swimmer, doubly bright. LORD ULLIN'S DAUGHTER. Thomas Campbell. A CHIEFTAIN to the Highlands bound Cries, " Boatman, do not tarry ! And I'll give thee a silver pound To row us o'er the ferry." " Now who be ye would cross Lochgyle, This dark and stormy water ? " " 0, I'm the chief of Ulva's isle. And this Lord Ullin's daughter. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS, 219 "And fast before her father's men Three days we've fled together, For should he find us in the glen, My blood would stain the heather. "His horsemen hard behind us ride; Should they our steps discover. Then who will cheer my bonny bride, When they have slain her lover? " Out spoke the hardy Highland wight, "I'll go, my chief — I'm ready: — It is not for your silver bright. But for your winsome lady : " And by my word ! the bonny bird In danger shall not tarry; So though the waves are raging white, I'll row you o'er the ferry." By this the storm grew loud apace. The water-wraith was shrieking; And in the scowl of heaven each face Grew dark as they were speaking. But still as wilder blew the wind. And as the night grew drearer, Adown the glen rode armed men. Their trampling sounded nearer. " O haste thee, haste ! " the lady cries, "Though tempests round us gather; I'll meet the raging of the skies. But not an angry father." 220 ''HOW THEY BROUGHT THE GOOD NEWS:' The boat has left a stormy land, A stormy sea before her, — When, oh! too strong for human hand. The tempest gathered o'er her. And still they rowed amidst the roar Of waters fast prevailing : Lord Ullin reached that fatal shore. His wrath was changed to wailing. , For sore dismayed, through storm and shade, His child he did discover : One lovely hand she stretched for aid. And one was round her lover. " Come back ! come back ! " he cried in grief, "Across this stormy water: And I'll forgive your Highland chief, My daughter ! — oh my daughter ! " 'Twas vain: the loud waves lashed the shore, Eeturn or aid preventing; The waters wild went o'er his child — And he was left lamenting. "HOW THEY BROUGHT THE GOOD NEWS FROM GHENT TO AIX." Robert Browning. I SPRANG to the stirrup, and Joris, and he ; I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three ; "Good speed! " cried the watch, as the gate-bolts undrew; " Speed ! " echoed the wall to us galloping through j THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 221 Behind shut the postern, the lights sank to rest, And into the midnight we galloped abreast. Not a word to each other; we kept the great pace Neck by neck, stride by stride, never changing our place ; ' I turned in my saddle and made its girths tight, Then shortened each stirrup, and set the pique right, Kebuckled the check-strap, chained slacker the bit. Nor galloped less steadily Eoland a whit. 'Twas moonset at starting; but while we drew near Lokeren, the cocks crew and twilight dawned clear; At Boom, a great yellow star came out to see; At Dufifeld, 'twas morning as plain as could be ; And from Mecheln church-steeple we heard the half -chime, So, Joris broke silence with, " Yet there is time ! " At Aershot, up leaped of a sudden the sun, And against him the cattle stood black every one, To stare thro' the mist at us galloping past, And I saw my stout galloper Roland at last, With resolute shoulders, each butting away The haze, as some bluff river headland its spray: And his low head and crest, just one sharp ear bent back For my voice, and the other pricked out on his track; And one eye's black intelligence, — ever that glance O'er its white edge at me, his own master, askance ! And the thick heavy spume-flakes which aye and anon His fierce lips shook upwards in galloping on. By Hasselt, Dirck groaned ; and cried Joris, " Stay spur ! Your Roos galloped bravely, the fault's not in her, 222 ''HOW THEY BROUGHT THE GOOD NEWS:' We'll remember at Aix " — for one heard the quick wheeze Of her chest, saw the stretched neck and staggering knees, And sunk tail, and horrible heave of the flank, As down on her haunches she shuddered and sank. So we were left galloping, Joris and I, Past Looz and past Tongres, no cloud in the sky; The broad sun above laughed a pitiless laugh, 'Keath our feet broke the brittle bright stubble like chaff; Till over by Dalhem a dome-spire sprang white. And "Gallop," gasped Joris, "for Aix is in sight! " "How they'll greet us! " — and all in a moment his roan Rolled neck and croup over, lay dead as a stone ; And there was my Eoland to bear the whole weight Of the news which alone could save Aix from her fate. With his nostrils like pits full of blood to the brim. And with circles of red for his eye-sockets' rim. Then I cast loose my buffcoat, each holster let fall. Shook off both my jack-boots, let go belt and all. Stood up in the stirrup, leaned, patted his ear. Called my Roland his pet-name, my horse without peer; Clapped my hands, laughed and sang, any noise, bad or good, Till at length into Aix Roland galloped and stood. And all I remember is — friends flocking round As I sat with his head 'twixt my knees on the ground; And no voice but was praising this Roland of mine. As I poured down his throat our last measure of wine, Which (the burgesses voted by common consent) Was no more than his due who brought good news from Ghent. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS, 223 LANDING OF THE PILGRIM FATHERS IN NEW ENGLAND. Felicia Browne Remans, Look now abroad ! Another race has fill'd Those populous borders — wide the wood recedes, And towns shoot up, and fertile realms are till'd ; The land is full of harvests and green meads. — Bryant. The breaking waves dasli'd high On a stern and rock-bound coast, And the woods against a stormy sky Their giant branches toss'dj And the heavy night hung dark The hills and waters o'er, When a band of exiles moor'd their bark On the wild New England shore. Not as the conqueror comes, They, the true-hearted, came; Not with the roll of the stirring drums, And the trumpet that sings of fame j Not as the flying come. In silence and in fear ; — They shook the depths of the desert gloom With their hymns of lofty cheer. Amidst the storm they sang, And the stars heard and the sea; And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang To the anthem of the free ! 224 TRAFALGAR AND THE DEATH OF NELSON. The ocean eagle soar'd From his nest by the white wave's foam;: And the rocking pines of the forest roar'd — This was their welcome home! There were men with hoary hair Amidst that pilgrim band; — Why had they come to wither there, Away from their childhood's land? There was woman's fearless eye, Lit by her deep love's truth; There was manhood's brow serenely high, And the fiery heart of youth. What sought they thus afar ? — Bright jewels of the mine? The wealth of seas, the spoils of war? — They sought a faith's pure shrine ! Ay, call it holy ground. The soil where first they trod. They have left unstain'd what there they found Freedom to worship God. THE BATTLE OF TRAFALGAR, VICTORY AND DEATH OF NELSON. From The Lifb of Nelson. Robert Southey. It was now Nelson's intention to rest awhile from his labors, and recruit himself, after all his fatigues and cares, in the society of those whom he loved. All his stores were brought up from the Victory, and he found in his house at Merton the TEE HEABT OF OAK BOOKS. 225 enjoyment which he had anticipated. Many days had not elapsed before Captain Blackwood, on his way to London with dispatches, called on him at five in the morning. Nel- son, who was already dressed, exclaimed, the moment he saw him: "I am sure you bring me news of the French and Spanish fleets ! I think I shall yet have to beat them ! " They had refitted at Vigo, after the indecisive action with Sir Robert Calder; then proceeded to Ferrol, brought out the squadron from thence, and with it entered Cadiz in safety. "Depend upon it, Blackwood," he repeatedly said, "I shall yet give M. Villeneuve a drubbing." But, when Blackwood had left him, he wanted resolution to declare his wishes to Lady Hamilton and his sisters, and endeavored to drive away the thought. He had done enough; he said, "Let the man trudge it who has lost his budget! " His countenance belied his lips ; and as he was pacing one of the walks in the garden, which he used to call the quarter-deck. Lady Hamilton came up to him, and told him she saw he was uneasy. He smiled and said: "No, he was as happy as possible; he was sur- rounded by his family, his health was better since he had been on shore, and he would not give sixpence to call the king his uncle." She replied that she did not believe him, that she knew he was longing to get at the combined fleets, that he considered them as his own property, that he would be miserable if any man but himself did the business, and that he ought to have them as the price and reward of his two years' long watching and his hard chase. "Nelson," said she, "however we may lament your absence, offer your ser- vices ; they will be accepted, and you will gain a quiet heart by it; you will have a glorious victory, and then you may return here and be happy." He looked at her with tears in his eyes: "Brave Emma! Good Emma! If there were more Emma's there would be more Nelsons." 226 TRAFALGAR AND THE DEATH OF NELSON. His services were as willingly accepted as they were offered; and Lord Barham, giving him the list of the navy, desired him to choose his own officers. "Choose yourself, my lord," was his reply; "the same spirit actuates the whole profes- sion; you cannot choose wrong." Lord Barham then desired him to say what ships and how many he would wish, in addi- tion to the fleet which he was going to command, and said they should follow him as soon as each was ready. No appoint- ment was ever more in unison with the feelings and judgment of the whole nation. They, like Lady Hamilton, thought that the destruction of the combined fleets ought properly to be Nelson's work; that he who had been " Half around the sea-girt ball, The hunter of the recreant Gaul,i " ought to reap the spoils of the chase, which he had watched so long and so perseveringly pursued. Early on the following morning (September fourteenth), he reached Portsmouth, and having despatched his business on shore, endeavored to elude the populace by taking a by-way to the beach; but a crowd collected in his train, pressing forward to obtain sight of his face : many were in tears, and many knelt down before him, and blessed him as he passed. England has had many heroes, but never one who so entirely possessed the love of his fellow-countrymen as Nelson. All men knew that his heart was as humane as it was fearless ; that there was not in his nature the slightest alloy of selfish- ness or cupidity, but that with perfect and entire devotion he served his country with all his heart, and with all his soul, and with all his strength; and therefore they loved him as truly and as fervently as he loved England. They pressed upon the parapet to gaze after him when his barge pushed off, 1 " Songs of Trafalgar.'' THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 227 and he was returning their cheers by waving his hat. The sentinels, who endeavored to prevent them from trespassing upon this ground, were wedged among the crowd, and an officer, who, not very prudently upon such an occasion, ordered them to drive the people down with their bayonets, was compelled speedily to retreat ; for the people would not be debarred from gazing till the last moment upon the hero — the darling hero — of England. He arrived off Cadiz on the twenty -ninth of September — his birthday. Fearing that, if the enemy knew his force, they might be deterred from venturing to sea, he kept out of sight of land, desired Collingwood to fire no salute and hoist no colors, and wrote to Gibraltar to request that the force of the fleet might not be inserted there in the "Gazette." His reception in the Mediterranean fleet was as gratifying as the farewell of his countrymen at Portsmouth ; the officers, who came on board to welcome him, forgot his rank as commander in their joy at seeing him again. The station which Nelson had chosen was some fifty or sixty miles to the west of Cadiz, near Cape St. Mary's. At this distance he hoped to decoy the enemy out, while he guarded against the danger of being caught with a westerly wind near Cadiz, and driven within the Straits. The blockade of the port was rigorously enforced, in hopes that the combined fleet might be forced to sea by want. The Danish vessels therefore, which were carrying provisions from the French ports in the bay, under the name of Danish property, to all the little ports from Ayamonte to Algeziras, from whence they were conveyed in coasting boats to Cadiz, were seized. Without this proper exertion of power the blockade would have been rendered nugatory by the advantage thus taken of the neutral flag. The supplies from France were thus effectually cut off. 228 TRAFALGAR AND THE DEATH OF NELSON. There was now every indication that the enemy would speedily venture out; officers and men were in the highest spirits, at the prospect of giving them a decisive blow, such, indeed, as would put an end to all further contest upon the seas. Theatrical amusements were performed every evening in most of the ships, and "God save the King," was the hymn with which the sports concluded. "I verily believe," said Nelson, writing on the sixth of October, " that the country will soon be put to some expense on my account, either a monu- ment or a new pension and honors; for I have not the small- est doubt but that a very few days, almost hours, will put us in battle. The success no man can insure, but for the fight- ing them, if they can be got at, I pledge myself. The sooner the better; I don't like to have these things upon my mind." On the ninth Nelson sent Collingwood what he called in his diary "the Nelson-touch." "I send you," said he, "my plan of attack, as far as a man dare venture to guess at the very uncertain position the enemy may be found in; but it is to place you perfectly at ease respecting my intentions, and to give full scope to your judgment for carrying them into effect. We can, my dear Coll, have no little jealousies. We have only one great object in view, that of annihilating our enemies, and getting a glorious peace for our country. No man has more confidence in another than I have in you, and no man will render your services more justice than your very old friend, Nelson and Bronte." About half past nine in the morning of the nineteenth, the Mars, being the nearest to the fleet of the ships which formed the line of communication with the frigates in shore, repeated the signal that the enemy were coming out of port. The wind was at THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 229 this time very light, with partial breezes, mostly from the S. S. W. Nelson ordered the signal to be made for a chase in the south-east quarter. About two, the repeating ships an- nounced that the enemy were at sea. All night the British fleet continued under all sail, steering to the south-east. At daybreak they were in the entrance of the Straits, but the enemy were not in sight. About seven, one of the frigates made signal that the enemy were bearing north. Upon this the Victory hove to, and shortly afterwards Nelson made sail again to the northward. In the afternoon the wind blew fresh from the south-west, and the English began to fear that the foe might be forced to return to port. A little before sunset, however, Blackwood, in the Euryalus^ telegraphed that they appeared determined to go to the west- ward. "And that," said the Admiral in his diary, "they shall not do, if it is in the power of Nelson and Bronte to prevent them." Nelson had signified to Blackwood that he depended upon him to keep sight of the enemy. They were observed so well that all their motions were made known to him, and as they wore twice, he inferred that they were aim- ing to keep the port of Cadiz open, and would retreat there as soon as they saw the British fleet ; for this reason he was very careful not to approach near enough to be seen by them dur- ing the night. At daybreak the combined fleets were dis- tinctly seen from the Victory^s deck, formed in a close line of battle ahead, on the starboard tack, about twelve miles to leeward, and standing to the south. Our fleet consisted of twenty-seven sail of the line and four frigates; theirs of thirty -three and seven large frigates. Their superiority was greater in size and weight of metal than in numbers. They had four thousand troops on board, and the best riflemen that could be procured, many of them Tyrolese, were dispersed through the ships. Little did the Tyrolese, and little did the 230 TRAFALGAR AND THE DEATH OF NELSON. Spaniards, at that day, imagine what horrors the wicked tyrant whom they served was preparing for their country. Soon after daylight Nelson came upon deck. The twenty- first of October was a festival in his family, because on that day his uncle, Captain Suckling, in the Dreadnought, with two other line-of -battle ships, had beaten off a French squadron of four sail of the line and three frigates. Nelson, with that sort of superstition from which few persons are entirely exempt, had more than once expressed his persuasion that this was to be the day of his battle also; and he was well pleased at seeing his prediction about to be verified. The wind was now from the west — light breezes, with a long heavy swell. Signal was made to bear down upon the enemy in two lines, and the fleet set all sail. Collingwood, in the Royal Sovereign, led the lee line of thirteen ships; the Victory led the weather line of fourteen. Having seen that all was as it should be. Nelson . retired to his cabin and wrote this prayer : — " May the great God, whom I worship, grant to my country, and for the benefit of Europe in general, a great and glorious victory; and may no misconduct in any one tarnish it, and may humanity after victory be the predominate feature in the British fleet ! For myself individually, I commit my life to Him that made me; and may His blessing alight on my endeavors for serving my country faithfully! To Him I resign myself, and the just cause which is entrusted to me to defend. Amen, Amen, Amen." Having thus discharged his devotional duties, he annexed, in the same diary, the following remarkable writing : — " October 21st, 1805. — Then in sight of the combined fleets of France and Spain, distant about ten miles. " Whereas, the eminent services of Emma Hamilton, widow of the Right Honorable Sir William Hamilton, have been of THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 231 the very greatest service to my king and my country, to my knowledge, without ever receiving any reward from either our king or country : "First, that she obtained the King of Spain's letter, in 1796, to his brother, the King of Naples, acquainting him of his intention to declare war against England; from which let- ter the Ministry sent out orders to the then Sir John Jervis to strike a stroke, if opportunity offered, against either the arsenals of Spain or her fleets. That neither of these was done, is not the fault of Lady Hamilton; the opportunity might have been offered. " Secondly, the British fleet under my command could never have returned the second time to Egypt had not Lady Hamil- ton's influence with the Queen of Naples caused letters to be wrote to the governor of Syracuse, that he was to encourage the fleet's being supplied with everything, should they put into any port in Sicily. We put into Syracuse, and received every supply; went to Egypt, and destroyed the French fleet. "Could I have rewarded these services, I would not now call upon my country ; but as that has not been in my power, I leave Emma, Lady Hamilton, therefore a legacy to my king and country, that they will give her an ample provision to maintain her rank in life. " I also leave to the beneficence of my country my adopted daughter, Horatia Nelson Thompson; and I desire she will use in future the name of Nelson only. " These are the only favors I ask of my king and country at this moment when I am going to fight their battle. May God bless my king and country, and all those I hold dear ! My relations it is needless to mention; they will, of course, be amply provided for. Nelson and Bronte. " Witnesses l"'^^''^'' Blackwood, (."T. M. Hardy." 232 TttAFALGAU AND THE DEATH OF NELSON. Blackwood went on board the Victory about six. He found Nelson in good spirits, but very calm ; not in that exhilaration which he had felt upon entering into battle at Aboukir and Copenhagen ; he knew that his own life would be particularly aimed at, and seems to have looked for death with almost as sure an expectation as for victory. His whole attention was fixed upon the enemy. They tacked to the northward, and formed their line on the larboard tack; thus bringing the shoals of Trafalgar and St. Pedro under the lee of the British, and keeping the port of Cadiz open for themselves. This was judiciously done; and Nelson, aware of all the advantages which he gave them, made signal to prepare to anchor. Nelson, certain of a triumphant issue to the day, asked Blackwood what he should consider as a victory. That officer answered, that, considering the handsome way in which battle was offered by the enemy, their apparent determination for a fair trial of strength, and the situation of the land, he thought it would be a glorious result if fourteen were cap- tured. He replied : " I shall not be satisfied with less than twenty." Soon afterwards he asked him if he did not think there was a signal wanting. Captain Blackwood made answer that he thought the whole fleet seemed very clearly to under- stand what they were about. These words were scarcely spoken before that signal was made which will be remembered as long as the language or even the memory of England shall endure — Nelson's last signal: "England expects every MAN TO DO HIS DUTY ! " It was received throughout the fleet with a shout of answering acclamation, made sublime by the spirit which it breathed, and the feeling which it ex- pressed. "Now," said Lord Nelson, "I can do no more. We must trust to the great Disposer of all events and the justice » DC T3 H O C a >» » H cr H M ^ H ? O B ^ o fc p >- !^ S O l-i s o CD > R E8 THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS, 233 of our cause. I thank God for this great opportunity of doing my duty." He wore that day, as usual, his admiraPs frock-coat, bear- ing on the left breast four stars of the different orders with which he was invested. Ornaments which rendered him so conspicuous a mark for the enemy were beheld with ominous apprehension by his officers. It was known that there were riflemen on board the French ships, and it could not be doubted but that his life would be particularly aimed at. They communicated their fears to each other j and the sur- geon, Mr. Beatty, spoke to the chaplain. Dr. Scott, and to Mr. Scott, the public secretary, desiring that some person would entreat him to change his dress or cover the stars; but they knew that such a request would highly displease him. " In honor I gained them, " he had said when such a thing had been hinted to him formerly, " and in honor I will die with them." Mr. Beatty, however, would not have been deterred by any fear of exciting his displeasure from speaking to him himself upon a subject in which the weal of England, as well as the life of Nelson, was concerned; but he was ordered from the deck before he could find an opportunity. This was a point upon which Nelson's officers knew that it was hopeless to remonstrate or reason with him; but both Blackwood and his own captain. Hardy, represented to him how advantageous to the fleet it would be for him to keep out of action as long as possible ; and he consented at last to let the Leviathan and the Temeraire, which were sailing abreast of the Victory, be ordered to pass ahead. Yet even here the last infirmity of this noble mind was indulged, for these ships could not pass ahead if the Victory continued to carry all her sail ; and so far was Nelson from shortening sail, that it was evident he took pleasure in pressing on, and rendering it im- possible for them to obey his own orders, A long swell was 234 TRAFALGAR AND THE DEATH OF NELSON, setting into the Bay of Cadiz. Our ships, crowding all sail, moved majestically before it, with light winds from the south- west. The sun shone on the sails of the enemy, and their well-formed line, with their numerous three-deckers, made an appearance which any other assailants would have thought formidable; but the British sailors only admired the beauty and the splendor of the spectacle ; and, in full confidence of winning what they saw, remarked to each other what a fine sight yonder ships would make at Spithead ! The French admiral, from the Bucentaure, beheld the new manner in which his enemy was advancing — Nelson and Collingwood each leading his line ; and pointing them out to his officers, he is said to have exclaimed that such conduct could not fail to be successful. Yet Villeneuve had made his own dispositions with the utmost skill, and the fleets under his command waited for the attack with perfect coolness. Ten minutes before twelve they opened their fire. Eight or nine of the ships immediately ahead of the Victory, and across her bows, fired single guns at her to ascertain whether she was yet within their range. As soon as Nelson perceived that their shot passed over him, he desired Blackwood and Captain Prowse, of the Sirius, to repair to their respective frigates, and on their way to tell all the captains of the line- of -battle ships that he depended on their exertions, and that, if by the prescribed mode of attack they found it impractica- ble to get into action immediately, they might adopt what- ever they thought best, provided it led them quickly and closely alongside an enemy. As they were standing on the front of the poop, Blackwood took him by the hand, saying he hoped soon to return, and find him in possession of twenty prizes. He replied, " God bless you, Blackwood ; I shall never see you again." Nelson's column was steered about two points more to the THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 235 north than Collingwood^s, in order to cut off the enemy's escape into Cadiz. The lee line, therefore, was first engaged. "See," cried Nelson, pointing to the Royal Sovereign^ as she steered right for the centre of the enemy's line, cut through it astern of the Santa Anna, three-decker, and engaged her at the muzzle of her guns on the starboard side; "see how that noble fellow Collingwood carries his ship into action ! " Col- lingwood, delighted at being first in the heat of the fire, and knowing the feelings of his commander and old friend, turned to his captain and exclaimed : " Eotherham, what would Nel- son give to be here ! " The enemy continued to fire a gun at a time at the Victory till they saw that a shot had passed through her main-top gal- lant-sail; then they opened their broadsides, aiming chiefly at her rigging, in the hope of disabling her before she could close with them. Nelson, as usual, had hoisted several flags, lest one should be shot away. The enemy showed no colors till late in the action, when they began to feel the necessity of having them to strike. For this reason the Santissima Trinadad, Nelson's old acquaintance, as he used to call her, was distin- guishable only by her four decks, and to the bow of this opponent he ordered the Victory to be steered. Meantime an incessant raking fire was kept up upon the Victory. The Admiral's secretary was one of the first who fell; he was killed by a cannon shot while conversing with Hardy. Cap- tain Adair, of the marines, with the help of a sailor, en- deavored to remove the body from Nelson's sight, who had a great regard for Mr. Scott, but he anxiously asked, " Is that poor Soott that's gone?" and being informed that it was so, exclaimed, "Poor fellow!" Presently a double-headed shot struck a party of marines who were drawn up on the poop, and killed eight of them, upon which Nelson immediately 236 TRAFALGAR AND THE DEATH OF NELSON, desired Captain Adair to disperse his men round the ship, that they might not suffer so much from being together. A few minutes afterwards a shot struck the fore-brace bits on the quarter-deck, and passed between Nelson and Hardy, a splinter from the bit tearing off Hardy's buckle and bruising his foot. Both stopped, and looked anxiously at each other : each sup- posed the other to be wounded. Nelson then smiled, and said : " This is too warm work. Hardy, to last long. " The Victory had not yet returned a single gun; fifty of her men had been by this time killed or wounded, and her main- topmast, with all her studding-sails and her booms, shot away. Nelson declared that in all his battles he had seen nothing which surpassed the cool courage of his crew on this occasion. At four minutes after twelve she opened her fire from both sides of her deck. It was not possible to break the enemy's line without running on board one of their ships. Hardy informed him of this, and asked him which he would prefer. Nelson replied : " Take your choice. Hardy ; it does not signify much." The master was then ordered to put the helm to port, and the Victory ran on board the Redoubtable just as her tiller-ropes were shot away. The French ship received her with a broadside, then instantly let down her lower-deck ports for fear of being boarded through them, and never afterwards fired a great gun during the action. Her tops, like those of all the enemy's ships, were filled with riflemen. Nelson never placed musketry in his tops ; he had a strong dislike to the practice, not merely because it endangers setting fire to the sails, but also because it is a murderous sort of warfare, by which individuals may suffer, and a commander now and then be picked off, but which never can decide the fate of a general engagement. Captain Harvey, in the Temeraire, fell on board the Re- ^oubtable on the other side; another enemy was in like man- THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 237 ner on board the Temeraire ; so that these four ships formed as compact a tier as if they had been moored together, their heads all lying the same way. The lieutenants of the Victory seeing this, depressed their guns of the middle and lower decks, and fired with a diminished charge, lest the shot should pass through and injure the Temeraire ; and because there was dan- ger that the Redoubtable might take fire from the lower deck guns, the muzzles of which touched her side when they were run out, the fireman of each gun stood ready with a bucket of water ; which, as soon as the gun was discharged, he dashed into the hole made by the shot. An incessant fire was kept up from the Victory from both sides ; her larboard guns play- ing upon the Bucentaure and the huge Santissima Trinidad. It had been part of Nelson's prayer, that the British fleet might be distinguished by humanity in the victory which he expected. Setting an example himself, he twice gave orders to cease firing upon the Redoubtable, supposing that she had struck, because her great guns were silent; for, as she carried no flag, there was no means of instantly ascertaining the fact. Erom this ship, which he had thus twice spared, he received his death. A ball fired from her mizzen-top, which in the then situation of the two vessels was not more than fifteen yards from that part of the deck where he was standing, struck the epaulette on his left shoulder, about a quarter after one, just in the heat of action. He fell upon his face, on the spot which was covered with his poor secretary's blood. Hardy, who was a few steps from him, turning round, saw three men raising him up. " They have done for me at last, Hardy!" said he. "I hope not!" cried Hardy. "Yes," he replied ; " my back-bone is shot through ! " Yet even now, not for a moment losing his presence of mind, he observed as they were carrying him down the ladder that the tiller-ropes, which had been shot away, were not yet replaced, and ordered 238 TBAFALGAR AND THE DEATH OF NELSON. that new ones should be rove immediately. Then, that he might not be seen by the crew, he took out his handkerchief and covered his face and his stars. Had he but concealed these badges of honor from the enemy, England, perhaps, would not have had cause to receive with sorrow the news of the battle of Trafalgar. The cockpit was crowded with wounded and dying men, over whose bodies he was with some difficulty con- veyed, and laid upon a pallet in the midshipmen's berth. It was soon perceived, upon examination, that the wound was mortal. This, however, was concealed from all except Cap- tain Hardy, the chaplain, and the medical attendants. He himself being certain, from the sensation in his back and the gush of blood he felt momently within his breast, that no human care could avail him, insisted that the surgeon should leave him, and attend to those to whom he might be useful: "for," said he, "you can do nothing for me.'' All that could be done was to fan him with paper, and frequently to give him lemonade to alleviate his intense thirst. He was in great pain, and expressed much anxiety for the event of the action, which now began to declare itself. As often as a ship struck, the crew of the Victory hurrahed, and at every hurrah a visi- ble expression of joy gleamed in the eyes and marked the countenance of the dying hero. But he became impatient to see Captain Hardy, and as that officer, though often sent for, could not leave the deck, Nelson feared that some fatal cause prevented him, and repeatedly cried: "Will no one bring Hardy to me? He must be killed! He is surely dead! " An hour and ten minutes elapsed from the time when Nelson received his wound before Hardy could come to him. They shook hands in silence ; Hardy in vain struggling to suppress the feelings of that most painful and yet sublimest moment. " Well, Hardy," said Nelson, '' how goes the day with us ? " "Very well," replied Hardy; "ten ships have struck, but THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 239 five of their van have tacked, and show an intention to bear down upon the Victory. I have called two or three of our fresh ships round, and have no doubt of giving them a drub- bing." — "I hope," said Nelson, "none of our ships have struck?" Hardy answered, "There was no fear of that." Then, and not till then. Nelson spoke of himself. " I am a dead man. Hardy, " said he ; "I am going fast ; it will be all over with me soon." Hardy observed that he hoped Mr. Beatty could yet hold out some prospect of life. " Oh, no ! " he replied, "it is impossible; my back is shot through. Beatty will tell you so." Captain Hardy then once more shook hands with him, and with a heart almost bursting, hastened upon deck. By this time all feeling below the breast was gone; and Nelson, having made the surgeon ascertain this, said to him : " You know I am gone. I know it. I feel something rising in my breast " — putting his hand on his left side — " which tells me so." And upon Beatty 's inquiring whether his pain was very great, he replied : " So great that he wished he was dead. Yet," said he in a lower voice, "one would like to live a little longer too ! " Captain Hardy, some fifty minutes after he had left the cockpit, returned, and again taking the hand of his dying friend and commander, congratulated him on having gained a complete victory. How many of the enemy were taken he did not know, as it was impossible to perceive them dis- tinctly; but fourteen or fifteen at least. "That's well! " cried Nelson; "but I bargained for twenty." And then in a stronger voice he said: "Anchor, Hardy, anchor." Hardy upon this hinted that Admiral Collingwood would take upon himself the direction of affairs. "Not while I live. Hardy," said the dying Nelson, ineffectually endeavoring to raise him- self from the bed: "Do you anchor." His previous order for 240 TRAFALGAR AND THE DEATH OF NELSON. preparing to anchor had shown how clearly he foresaw the necessity of this. Presently, calling Hardy back, he said to him in a low voice: "Don't throw me overboard j" and he desired that he might be buried by his parents, unless it should please the king to order otherwise. "Kiss me. Hardy," said he. Hardy knelt down and kissed his cheek, and Nelson said: "Now I am satisfied. Thank God, I have done my duty ! " Hardy stood over him in silence for a moment or two, then knelt again and kissed his forehead. "Who is that?" said Nelson; and being informed, he replied: "God bless you, Hardy." And Hardy then left him forever. Nelson now desired to be turned upon his right side, and said: "I wish I had not left the deck, for I shall soon be gone." Death was indeed rapidly approaching. He said to the chaplain: "Doctor, I have not been a great sinner." His articulation now became difficult, but he was distinctly heard to say : " Thank God, I have done my duty ! " These words he repeatedly pronounced, and they were the last words which he uttered. He expired at thirty minutes after four, three hours and a quarter after he had received his wound. Within a quarter of an hour after Nelson was wounded above fifty of the Victory^s men fell by the enemy's mus- ketry. They, however, on their part were not idle, and it was not long before there were only two Frenchmen left alive in the mizzen-top of the Redoubtable. One of them was the man who had given the fatal wound — he did not live to boast of what he had done. An old quartermaster had seen him fire, and easily recognized him because he wore a glazed cocked- hat and a white frock. This quartermaster and two midship- men, Mr. Collingwood, and Mr. Pollard, were the only persons left in the Ficiory's poop; the two midshipmen kept firing at the top, and he supplied them with cartridges. One of the THE BEAUT OF OAK BOOKS. 241 Frenchmen, attempting to make his escape down the rigging, was shot by Mr. Pollard, and fell on the poop. But the old quartermaster, as he cried out, "That's he, that's he!" and pointed at the other, who as coming forward to fire again, received a shot in his mouth and fell dead. Both the midship- men then fired at the same time, and the fellow dropped in the top. When they took possession of the prize, they went into the mizzen-top and found him dead, with one ball through his head and another through his breast. m * M^ * * * «««« Once, amidst his sufferings, Nelson had expressed a wish that he were dead; but immediately the spirit subdued the pains of death, and he wished to live a little longer — doubt- less that he might hear the completion of the victory which he had seen so gloriously begun. That consolation, that joy, that triumph was afforded him. He lived to know that the victory was decisive, and the last guns which were fired at the flying enemy were heard a minute or two before he expired. The ships which were thus flying were four of the enemy's van, all French, under Eear- Admiral Dumanoir. They had borne no part in the action; and now, when they were seek- ing safety in flight, they fired not only into the Victory and Royal Sovereign as they passed, but poured their broadsides into the Spanish captured ships, and they were seen to back their topsails for the purpose of firing with more precision. The indignation of the Spaniards at this detestable cruelty from their allies, for whom they had fought so bravely and so profusely bled, may well be conceived. It was such that when, two days after the action, seven of the ships which had escaped into Cadiz, came out, in hopes of retaking some of the' disabled prizes, the prisoners in the Argonauta in a body offered their services to the British prize-master to man the guns against any of the French ships; saying, that if a 242 TRAFALGAR AND THE DEATH OF NELSON. Spanish ship came alongside they would quietly go below, but they requested that they might be allowed to light the French in resentment for the murderous usage which they had suffered at their hands. Such was their earnestness, and such the implicit confidence which could be placed in Spanish honor, that the offer was accepted, and they were actually stationed at the lower-deck guns. *# * m *** ** The total British loss in the battle of Trafalgar amounted to 1587. Twenty of the enemy struck: unhappily, the fleet did not anchor, as Nelson, almost with his dying breath, had enjoined. A gale came on from the south-west : some of the prizes went down ; some went on shore ; one effected its escape into Cadiz ; others were destroyed ; four only were saved, and those by the greatest exertions. The wounded Spaniards were sent ashore, an assurance being given that they should not serve till regularly exchanged; and the Spaniards, with a generous feeling, which would not perhaps have been found in any other people, offered the use of their hospitals for our wounded, pledging the honor of Spain that they should be carefully attended there. When the storm, after the action, drove some of the prizes upon the coast, they declared that the English, who were thus thrown into their hands, should not be considered as prisoners of war; and the Spanish soldiers gave up their own beds to their shipwrecked enemies. The Spanish vice-admiral, Alava, died of his wounds. Villeneuve was sent to England, and permitted to return to France. The French Government say that he destroyed himself on the way to Paris, dreading the consequences of a court-martial; but there is every reason to believe that the tyrant, who never acknowledged the loss of the battle of Trafalgar, added Ville- neuve to the numerous victims of his murderous policy. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 243 The death of Nelson was felt in England as something more than a public calamity; men started at the intelligence and turned pale, as if they had heard of the loss of a dear friend. An object of our admiration and affection, of our pride and of our hopes, was suddenly taken from us ; and it seemed as if we had never till then known how deeply we loved and rever- enced him. What the country had lost in its great naval hero — the greatest of our own and of all former times — was scarcely taken into the account of grief. So perfectly indeed had he performed his part, that the maritime war after the battle of Trafalgar was considered at an end : the fleets of the enemy were not merely defeated, but destroyed; new navies must be built, and a new race of seamen reared for them, before the possibility of their invading our shores could again be contemplated. It was not, therefore, from any selfish reflection upon the magnitude of our loss that we mourned for him ; the general sorrow was of a higher character. The people of England grieved that funeral ceremonies, and pub- lic monuments, and posthumous rewards were all which they could now bestow upon him whom the king, the legislature, and the nation would have alike delighted to honor ; whom every tongue would have blessed; whose presence in every village through which he might have passed would have wakened the church bells, have given school-boys a holiday, have drawn children from their sports to gaze upon him, and "old men from the chimney corner," to look upon Nelson ere they died. The victory of Trafalgar was celebrated, indeed, with the usual forms of rejoicing, but they were without joy; for such already was the glory of the British navy, through Nelson's surpassing genius, that it scarcely seemed to receive any addition from the most signal victory that ever was achieved upon the seas ; and the destruction of this mighty fleet, by which all the maritime schemes of France 244 HOME THOUGHTS FROM THE SEA, were totally frustrated, hardly appeared to add to our secur- ity; or strength, for while Nelson was living to watch the com- bined squadrons of the enemy, we felt ourselves as secure as now, when they were no longer in existence. He cannot be said to have fallen prematurely whose work was done, nor ought he to be lamented who died so full of honors, and at the height of human fame. The most trium- phant death is that of the martyr ; the most awful that of the martyred patriot ; the most splendid that of the hero in the hour of victory ; and if the chariot and the horses of fire had been vouchsafed for Nelson's translation, he could scarcely have departed in a brighter blaze of glory. He has left us, not indeed his mantle of inspiration, but a name and an exam- ple which are at this hour inspiring hundreds of the youth of England — a name which is our pride, and an example which will continue to be our shield and our strength. Thus it is that the spirits of the great and the wise continue to live and to act after them. HOME THOUGHTS FROM THE SEA. Robert Browning. Nobly, nobly Cape Saint Vincent to the North-west died away ; Sunset ran, one glorious blood-red, reeking into Cadiz Bay ; Bluish 'mid the burning water, full in face Trafalgar lay ; In the dimmest North-east distance dawned Gibraltar grand and gray; " Here and here did England help me : how can I help Eng- land ? " — say, Whoso turns as I, this evening, turn to God to praise and pray, While Jove's planet rises yonder, silent over Africa. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 245 COLUMBUS. Arthur Hugh Clough. How in God^s name did Columbus get over Is a pure wonder to me, I protest, Cabot, and Ealeigh too, tbat well-read rover, Frobisber, Dampier, Drake, and the rest. Bad enough all tbe same, For them that after came. But, in great Heaven's name, How he should ever think That on the other brink Of this wild waste terra firma should be, Is a pure wonder, I must say, to me. Kow a man ever should hope to get thither. E'en if he knew that there was another side 5 But to suppose he should come any whither, Sailing straight on into chaos untried, In spite of the motion Across the whole ocean. To stick to the notion That in some nook or bend Of a sea without end He should find North and South America, Was a pure madness, indeed I must say, to me. What if wise men had, as far back as Ptolemy, Judged that the earth like an orange was round. 24b COLUMBUS, None of them ever said, Come along, follow me, Sail to the West, and the East will be found. Many a day before Ever they'd come ashore, Erom the ^ San Salvador/ Sadder and wiser men They'd have turned back again; And that he did not, but did cross the sea, Is a pure wonder, I must say, to me. HELVELLYN. Sir Walter Scott. I climb'd the dark brow of the mighty Helvellyn,^ Lakes and mountains beneath me gleam'd misty and wide; All was still, save by fits, when the eagle was yelling, • And starting around me the echoes replied. On the right, Striden-edge round the Redtarn was bending, And Catchedicam its left verge was defending. One huge nameless rock in the front was ascending. When I mark'd the sad spot where the wanderer had died. Dark green was that spot 'mid the brown mountain-heather, Where the Pilgrim of Nature lay stretch'd in decay. Like the corpse of an outcast abandoned to weather. Till the mountain winds wasted the tenantless clay. 1 In the spring of 1805, a young gentleman of talents, and of a most amiable disposition, perislied by losing his way on the mountain Helvellyn. His re- mains were not discovered till three months afterwards, when they were found guarded by a faithful terrier, his constant attendant during frequent solitary rambles through the wilds of Cumberland and Westmoreland. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 247 Nor yet quite deserted, though lonely extended, For, faithful in death, his mute favorite attended, The much-loved remains of her master defended, And chased the hill-fox and the raven away. How long didst thou think that his silence was slumber? When the wind waved his garment, how oft didst thou start? How many long days and long weeks didst thou number, Ere he faded before thee, the friend of thy heart? And oh! was it meet, that — no requiem read o'er him — No mother to weep, and no friend to deplore him, And thou, little guardian, alone stretched before him — Unhonor'd the Pilgrim from life should depart? When a Prince to the fate of the Peasant has yielded. The tapestry waves dark round the dim-lighted hall; With scutcheons of silver the coffin is shielded. And pages stand mute by the canopied pall : Through the courts, at deep midnight, the torches are gleam- ing; In the proudly-arch 'd chapel the banners are beaming. Far adown the long aisle sacred music is streaming. Lamenting a Chief of the people should fall. But meeter for thee, gentle lover of nature. To lay down thy head like the meek mountain lamb. When, wilder'd, he drops from some cliff huge in stature, And draws his last sob by the side of his dam. And more stately thy couch by this desert lake lying, Thy obsequies sung by the gray plover flying, With one faithful friend but to witness thy dying. In the arms of Helvellyn and Catchedicam. 248 JAFFAB, JAFFAR. Leigh Hunt. Inscribed to the Memory of Shelley. Shelley, take this to thy dear memory : — To praise the generous, is to think of thee. Jaffar, the Barmecide, the good Vizier, The poor man's hope, the friend without a peer, Jaftar was dead, slain by a doom unjust; And guilty Haroun, sullen with mistrust Of what the good and e'en the bad might say, Ordain' d that no man living from that day Should dare to speak his name on pain of death. — All Araby and Persia held their breath. All but the brave Mondeer. — He, proud to show How far for love a grateful soul could go, And facing death for very scorn and grief (For his great heart wanted a great relief,) Stood forth in Bagdad, daily, in the square Where once had stood a happy house ; and there Harangued the tremblers at the scymitar On all they owed to the divine Jaffar. "Bring me this man," the caliph cried. The man Was brought — was gaz'd upon. The mutes began To bind his arms. "Welcome, brave cords! " cried he; " From bonds far worse Jaffar deliver'd me ; From wants, from shames, from loveless household fears-, Made a man's eyes friends with delicious tears; Restor'd me — lov'd me — put me on a par With his great self. How can I pay Jaffar?" THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 249 Haroun, wlio felt, that on a soul like this The mightiest vengeance could but fall amiss, Now deign'd to smile, as one great lord of fate Might smile upon another half as great. He said, " Let worth grow frenzied, if it will ; The caliph's judgment shall be master still. Go : and since gifts thus move thee, take this gem, The richest in the Tartar's diadem, And hold the giver as thou deemest fit." " Gifts ! " cried the friend. He took ; and holding it High tow'rds the heavens, as though to meet his star, Exclaim'd, " This, too, I owe to thee, Jaffar ! " BEGINNING LIFE IN PHILADELPHIA: THE DEFEAT OF GENERAL BRADDOCK. From the Reprint of the Original MS. of The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin. I HAVE been the more particular in this description of my journey, and shall be so of my first entry into that city,^ that you may in your mind compare such unlikely beginnings ^ with the figure I have since made there. I was in my working dress, my best clothes being to come round by sea. I was dirty from my journey ; my pockets were stuff' d out with shirts and stockings, and I knew no soul nor where to look for lodging. I was fatigued with travelling, rowing, and want of rest ; I was very hungry ; and my whole stock of cash consisted of a Dutch dollar, and about a shilling in copper. The latter I gave the people of the boat for my passage, who at first refus'd it, 1 Philadelphia. 2 This was in October, 1723. 250 BEGINNING LIFE IN PHILADELPHIA, on account of my rowing-; but I insisted on their taking it A man being sometimes more generous when lie has but a little money "than when he has plenty, perhaps thro' fear of being thought to have but little. Then I walked up the street, gazing about till near the mar. ket-house I met a boy with bread. I had made many a meal on bread, and, inquiring where he got it, I went immediately to the baker's he directed me to, in Second-street, and ask'd for bisket, intending such as we had in Boston; but they, it seems, were not made in Philadelphia. Then I asked for a three-penny loaf, and was told they had none such. So not considering or knowing the difference of money, and the greater cheapness nor the names of his bread, I bade him give me three- penny worth of any sort. He gave me, accordingly, three great puffy rolls. I was surpris'd at the quantity, but took it, and, having no room in my pockets, walk'd off with a roll under each arm, and eating the other. Thus I went up Market-street as far as Fourth-street, passing by the door of Mr. Eead, my future wife's father ; when she, standing at the door, saw me, and thought I made, as I certainly did, a most awkward, ridicu- lous appearance. Then I turned and went down Chestnut- street and part of Walnut-street, eating my roll all the way, and, coming round, found myself again at Market-street wharf, near the boat I came in, to which I went for a draught of the river water ; and, being filled with one of my rolls, gave the other two to a woman and her child that came down the river in the boat with us, and were waiting to go farther. Thus refreshed, I walked again up the street, which by this time had many clean-dressed people in it, who were all walk- ing the same way. I joined them, and thereby was led into the great meeting-house of the Quakers near the market. I sat down among them, and, after looking round a while and hearing nothing said, being very drowsy thro' labor and THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 251 want of rest the preceding night, I fell fast asleep, and con- tinu'd so till the meeting broke up, when one was kind enough to rouse me. This was, therefore, the first house I was in, or slept in, in Philadelphia. Walking down again toward the river, and looking in the faces of the people, I met a young Quaker man whose counte- nance I lik'd, and, accosting him, requested he would tell me where a stranger could get lodging. We were then near the sign of the Three Mariners. "Here," says he, "is one place that entertains strangers, but it is not a reputable house ; if thee wilt walk with me, I'll show thee a better." He brought me to the Crooked Billet, in Water-street. Here I got a dinner, and, while I was eating it, several sly questions were asked me, as it seemed to be suspected, from my youth and appearance, that I might be some runaway. After dinner, my sleepiness returned, and, being shown to a bed, I lay down without undressing, and slept till six in the evening ; was calPd to supper, went to bed again very early, and slept soundly till next morning. Then I made myself as tidy as I could, and went to Andrew Bradford, the printer's. I found in the shop the old man, his father, whom I had seen in New York, and who, travelling on horseback, had got to Philadelphia before me. He introduc'd me to his son, who receiv'd me civilly, gave me a breakfast, but told me he did not at present want a hand, being lately suppli'd with one; but there was another printer in town, lately set up, one Keimer, who, perhaps, might employ me ; if not, I should be welcome to lodge at his house, and he would give me a little work to do now and then till fuller business should offer. The old gentleman said he would go with me to the new printer ; and when we found him, " Neighbor," says Bradford, "I have brought to see you a young man of your business,- perhaps you may want such a one." He ask'd me a few ques- 252 BEGINNING LIFE IN PHILADELPHIA, tions, put a composing stick in my hand to see how I work'd, and then said he would employ me soon, though he had just then nothing for me to do ; and taking old Bradford, whom he had never seen before, to be one of the townspeople that had a good will for him, enter'd into a conversation on his present undertaking and prospects; while Bradford, not dis- covering that he was the other printer's father, on Keimer's saying he expected soon to get the greatest part of the busi- ness into his own hands, drew him on by artful questions, and starting little doubts, to explain all his views, what interest he reli'd on, and in what manner he intended to proceed. I, who stood by and heard all, saw immediately that one of them was a crafty old sophister, and the other a mere novice. Brad- ford left me with Keimer, who was greatly surpris'd when I told him who the old man was. Keimer's printing-house, I found, consisted of an old shat- ter'd press, and one small, worn-out font of English, which he was then using himself, composing an Elegy on Aquila Rose, an ingenious young man, of excellent character, much respected in the town, clerk of the Assembly, and a pretty poet. Keimer made verses too, but very indifferently. He could not be said to write them, for his manner was to compose them in the types directly out of his head. So there being no copy, but one pair of cases, and the Elegy likely to require all the "letter," no one could help him. I endeavor'd to put his press (which he had not yet us'd, and of which he understood nothing) into order fit to be work'd with ; and, promising to come and print off his Elegy as soon as he should have got it ready, I returned to Bradford's, who gave me a little job to do for the present, and there I lodged and dieted. A few days after, Keimer sent for me to print off the Elegy. And now he had got another pair of cases, and a pamphlet to reprint, on which he set me to work. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS, 253 These two printers I found poorly qualified for their busi- ness. Bradford had not been bred to it, and was very illiter- ate; and Keimer, tho' something of a scholar, was a mere compositor, knowing nothing of presswork. He had been one of the French prophets, and could act their enthusiastic agita- tions. At this time he did not profess any particular religion, but something of all on occasion; was very ignorant of the world, and had, as I afterward found, a good deal of the knave in his composition. He did not like my lodging at Bradford's while I worked with him. He had a house, indeed, but without furniture, so he could not lodge me ; but he got me a lodging at Mr. Eead's, before mentioned, who was the owner of his house ; and, my chest and clothes being come by this time, I made rather a more respectable appearance in the eyes of Miss Bead than I had done when she first happened to see me eating my roll in the street. I began now to have some acquaintance among the young people of the town, that were lovers of reading, with whom I spent my evenings very pleasantly; and gaining money by my industry and frugality, I lived very agreeably, forgetting Boston as much as I could, and not desiring that any there should know where I resided, except my friend Collins, who was in my secret, and kept it when I wrote to him. At length, an incident happened that sent me back again much sooner than I had intended. I had a brother-in-law, Kobert Holmes, master of a sloop that traded between Boston and Delaware. He being at Newcastle, forty miles below Philadelphia, heard there of me, and wrote me a letter mentioning the concern of my friends in Boston at my abrupt departure, assuring me of their goodwill to me, and that everything would be accom- modated to my mind if I would return, to which he exhorted me very earnestly. I wrote an answer to his letter, thank'd him for his advice, but stated my reasons for quitting Boston fully 254 ISEGINNING LtFt: IN PBILADBLPBIA. and in such a light as to convince him that I was not so wrong as Jie had apprehended. Sir William Keith, governor of the province, was then at Newcastle, and Captain Holmes, happening to be in company with him when my letter came to hand, spoke to him of me, and show'd him the letter. The governor read it, and seem'd surpris'd when he was told my age. He said I appear'd a young man of .promising parts, and therefore should be encour- aged ; the printers at Philadelphia were wretched ones ; and, if I would set up there, he made no doubt I should succeed ; for his part, he would procure me the public business, and do me every other service in his power. This my brother-in-law afterwards told me in Boston, but I knew as yet nothing of it ; when, one day, Keimer and I being at work together near the window, we saw the governor and another gentleman (which proved to be Colonel French, of Newcastle), finely dress'd, come directly across the street to our house, and heard them at the door. Keimer ran down immediately, thinking it a visit to him ; but the Governor inquired for me, came up, and with a con- descension and politeness T had been quite unused to, made me many compliments, desired to be acquainted with me, blam'd me kindly for not having made myself known to him when I first came to the place, and would have me away with him to the tavern, where he was going with Colonel French to taste, as he said, some excellent Maderia. I was not a little sur- prised, and Keimer star'd like a pig poison'd. I went, how- ever, with the governor and Colonel French to a tavern, at the corner of Third-street, and over the Maderia he proposed my setting up my business, laid before me the probabilities of success, and both he and Colonel French assur'd me I should have their interest and influence in procuring the public busi- ness of both governments. On my doubting whether my father THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS, 255 would assist me in it. Sir William said lie would give me a letter to him, in which he would state the advantages, and he did not doubt of prevailing with him. So it was concluded I should return to Boston in the first vessel, with the governor's letter recommending me to my father. In the meantime the intention was to be kept a secret, and I went on working with Keimer as usual, the governor sending for me now and then to dine with him, a very great honor I thought it, and convers- ing with me in the most affable, familiar, and friendly manner imaginable. About the end of April, 1724, a little vessel offered for Boston. I took leave of Keimer as going to see my friends. The governor gave me an ample letter, saying many flattering things of me to my father, and strongly recommending the project of my setting up at Philadelphia as a thing that must make my fortune. We struck on a shoal in going down the bay, and sprung a leak ; we had a blustering time at sea, and were oblig'd to pump almost continually, at which I took my turn. We arriv'd safe, however, at Boston in about a fort- night. I had been absent seven months, and my friends had heard nothing of me; for my brother Holmes was not yet returned, and had not written about me. My unexpected appearance surprised the family ; all were, however, very glad to see me, and made me welcome, except my brother. I went to see him at his printing-house. I was better dress'd than ever while in his service, having a genteel new suit from head to foot, a watch, and my pockets lin'd with near five pounds sterling in silver. He received me not very frankly, look'd me all over, and turn'd to his work again. The journeymen were inquisitive where I had been, what sort of a country it was, and how I lik'd it. I prais'd it much, and the happy life I led in it, expressing strongly my intention of returning to it ; and, one of them asking what 256 BEGIN]!^ING LIFE IN PHILADELPHIA. kind of money we had there, I produc'd a handful of silver, and spread it before them, which was a kind of raree-show they had not been us'd to, paper being the money of Boston. Then I took an opportunity of letting them see my watch; and lastly (my brother still grum and sullen), I gave them a piece of eight to drink, and took my leave. This visit of mine offended him extremely ; for, when my mother some time after spoke to him of a reconciliation, and of her wishes to see us on good terms together, and that we might live for the future as brothers, he said I had insulted him in such a manner before his people that he could never forget or forgive it. In this, however, he was mistaken. My father received the governor's letter with some apparent surprise, but said little of it to me for some days, when Capt. Holmes returning, he show'd it to him, and ask'd him if he knew Keith, and what kind of man he was ; adding his opinion that 'he must be of small discretion to think of setting a boy up in business who wanted yet three years of being at man's estate. Holmes said what he could in favor of the project, but my father was clear in the impropriety of it, and at last gave a flat denial to it. Then he wrote a civil letter to Sir William, thanking him for the patronage he had so kindly offered me, but declining to assist me as yet in setting up, I being, in his opinion, too young to be trusted with the management of a busi- ness so important, and for which the preparation must be so expensive. My friend and companion Collins, who was a clerk in the post-office, pleas'd with the account I gave him of my new country, determined to go thither also; and, while I waited for my father's determination, he set out before me by land to Rhode Island, leaving his books, which were a pretty collec- tion of mathematics and natural philosophy, to come with mine and me to New York, where he proposed to wait for me. r > r s 5 THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 257 My father, tho' lie did not approve Sir William's proposi- tion, was yet pleas'd that I had been able to obtain so advan- tageous a character from a person of such note where I had resided, and that I had been so industrious and careful as to equip myself so handsomely in so short a time ; therefore, see- ing no prospect of an accommodation between my brother and me, he gave his consent to my returning again to Philadelphia, advis'd me to behave respectfully to the people there, endeavor to obtain the general esteem, and avoid lampooning and libel- ling, to which he thought I had too much inclination ; telling me, that by steady industry and a prudent parsimony I might save enough by the time I was one-and-twenty to set me up ; and that, if I came near the matter, he would help me out with the rest. This was all I could obtain, except some small gifts as tokens of his and my mother's love, when I embark'd again for New York, now with their approbation and their blessing. The sloop putting in at Newport, Ehode Island, I visited my brother John, who had been married and settled there some years. He received me very affectionately, for he always lov'd me. A friend of his, one Vernon, having some money due to him in Pennsylvania, about thirty-five pounds currency, desired I would receive it for him, and keep it till I had his directions what to remit it in. Accordingly he gave me an order. This afterwards occasioned me a good deal of uneasiness. At New York I found my friend Collins, who had arrived there some time before me. We had been intimate from chil- dren, and had read the same books together ; but he had the advantage of more time for reading and studying, and a won- derful genius for mathematical learning, in which he far out- stript me. While I liv'd in Boston, most of my hours of leisure for conversation were spent with him, and he continued 258 BEGINNING LIFE IN PHILADELPBIA, a sober as well as an industrious lad, was mucli respected for his learning by several of the clergy and other gentlemen, and seemed to promise making a good figure in life. But, during my absence he had acquired a habit of sotting with brandy ; and I found by his own account, and what I heard from others, that he had been drunk every day since his arrival at 'New York, and behav'd very oddly. He had gam'd, too, and lost his money, so that I was oblig'd to discharge his lodgings, and defray his expenses to and at Philadelphia, which proved extremely inconvenient to me; The then governor of New York, Burnet (son of Bishop Burnet), hearing from the captain that a young man, one of his passengers, had a great many books, desir'd he would bring me to see him. I waited upon him accordingly, and should have taken Collins with me, but that he was not sober. The gover- nor treated me with great civility, showed me his library, which was a very large one, and we had a good deal of conversation about books and authors. This was the second governor who had done me the honor to take notice of me, which, to a poor boy like me, was very pleasing. We proceeded to Philadelphia. I received on the way Ver- non^s money, without which we could hardly have finished our journey. Collins wished to be employed in some counting- house, but, whether they discover'd his dramming by his breath, or by his behavior, tho' he had some recommendar tions, he met with no success in any application, and con- tinued lodging and boarding at the same house with me, and at my expense. Knowing I had that money of Vernon's, he was continually borrowing of me, still promising repayment as soon as he should be in business. At length he had got so much of it, that I was distress'd to think what I should do in case of being calFd on to remit it. His drinking continued, about which we sometimes quarrelPd, THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 259 for, when a little intoxicated, he was very fractious. Once, in a boat on the Delaware with some other young men, he refused to row in his turn. "I will be row'd home," says he. "We will not row you," says I. " You must, or stay all night on the water," says he, "just as you please." The others said: " Let us row ; what signifies it ? " But, my mind being soured with his other conduct, I continu'd to refuse. So he swore he would make me row, or throw me overboard ; and coming along stepping on the thwarts, toward me, when he came up and struck at me, I clapped my hand under his crutch, and rising, pitched him head-foremost into the river. I knew he was a good swimmer, and so was under little concern about him ; but before he could get round to lay hold of the boat, we had, with a few strokes, pulPd her out of his reach ; and ever when he drew near the boat, we ask^d if he would row, striking a few strokes to slide her away from him. He was ready to die with vexation, and obstinately would not promise to row. However^ seeing him at last beginning to tire, we lifted him in, and brought him home dripping wet in the evening. We hardly exchang'd a civil word afterwards, and a West India captain, who had a commission to procure a tutor for the sons of a gentleman at Barbadoes, happening to meet with him, agreed to carry him thither. He left me then, promising to remit me the first money he should receive, in order to discharge the debt, but I never heard of him after. The breaking into this money of Vernon's was one of the first great errata of my life, and this affair show'd that my father was not much out in his judgment when he suppos'd me too young to manage business of importance. But Sir William, on reading his letter, said he was too prudent. There was a great difference in persons, and discretion did not always accompany years, nor was youth always without it. "And since he will not set you up," says he, "I will do it my- 260 BEGINNING LIFE IN PHILADELPHIA. self. Give me an inventory of the things necessary to be had from England, and I will send for them. You shall repay me when you are able ; I am resolv'd to have a good printer here, and I am sure you must succeed." This was spoken with such an appearance of cordiality, that I had not the least doubt of his meaning what he said. I had hitherto kept the proposi- tion of my setting up a secret in Philadelphia, and I still kept it. Had it been known that I depended on the Governor, probably some friend that knew him better would have advis'd me not to rely on him, as I afterwards heard it as his known character to be liberal of promises which he never meant to keep. Yet, unsolicited as he was by me, how could I think his generous offers insincere ? I believ'd him one of the best men in the world. I presented him an inventory of a little printing-house, amounting, by my computation, to about one hundred pounds sterling. He lik'd it, but ask'd me if my being on the spot in England to choose the types, and see that everything was good of the kind, might not be of some advantage. " Then," says he, " when there, you may make acquaintances, and estab- lish correspondences in the bookselling and stationery way." I agreed that this might be advantageous. "Then," says he, " get yourself ready to go with Annis ; " which was the annual ship, and the only one at that time usually passing between London and Philadelphia. But it would be some months before Annis sail'd, so I continu'd working with Keimer, fret- ting about the money Collins had got from me, and in daily apprehensions of being calPd upon by Vernon, which, however, did not happen for some years after. . . . The governor, seeming to like my company, had me fre- quently to his house, and his setting me up was always mention'd as a fixed thing. I was to take with me letters recommendatory to a number of his friends, besides the letter TBE HEART OF OAK BOOKS, 261 of credit to furnish me with the necessary money for pur- chasing the press and types, paper, etc. For these letters I was appointed to call at different times, when they were to be ready; but a future time was still named. Thus he went on till the ship, whose departure too had been several times postponed, was on the point of sailing. Then, when I calPd to take my leave and receive the letters, his secretary. Dr. Bard, came out to me and said the governor was extremely busy in writing, but would be down at Newcastle before the ship, and there the letters would be delivered to me. . . . Having taken leave of my friends, and interchanged some promises with Miss Read, I left Philadelphia in the ship, which anchored at Newcastle. The governor was there ; but when I went to his lodging, the secretary came to me from him with the civillest message in the world, that he could not then see me, being engaged in business of the utmost importance, but should send the letters to me on board, wish'd me heartily a good voyage and a speedy return, etc. I returned on board a little puzzled, but still not doubting. . . . Understanding that Colonel French had brought on board the governor's despatches, I ask'd the captain for those letters that were to be under my care. He said all were put into the bag together and he could not then come at them ; but, before we landed in England, I should have an opportunity of pick- ing them out ; so I was satisfied for the present, and we pro- ceeded on our voyage. We had a sociable company in the cabin, and lived uncommonly well. In this passage Mr. Den- ham contracted a friendship for me that continued during his life. The voyage was otherwise not a pleasant one, as we had a great deal of bad weather. When we came into the channel, the captain kept his word with me, and gave me an opportunity of examining the bag for the governor's letters. I found none upon which my name 262 BEGINNING LIFE IN PHILADELPHIA, was put as under my care. I picked out six or seven, that, by the handwriting, I thought might be the promised letters, especially as one of them was directed to Basket, the king's printer, and another to some stationer. We arrived in London on the 24th of December, 1724. I waited upon the stationer, who came first in my way, delivering the letter as from Governor Keith. " I don't know such a person," says he ; but, opening the letter, " Oh ! this is from Eiddlesden. I have lately found him to be a complete rascal, and I will have nothing to do with him, nor receive any letters from him." So, putting the letter into my hand, he turn'd on his heel and left me to serve some customer. I was surprised to find these were not the gov- ernor's letters ; and, after recollecting and comparing circum- stances, I began to doubt his sincerity. I found my friend Denham, and opened the whole affair to him. He let me into Keith's character ; told me there was not the least probability that he had written any letters for me ; that no one, who knew him, had the smallest dependence on him ; and he laught at the notion of the Governor's giving me a letter of credit, hav- ing, as he said, no credit to give. On my expressing some concern about what I should do, he advised me to endeavor getting some employment in the way of my business. " Among the printers here," said he, " you will improve yourself, and when you return to America, you will set up to greater advantage." . . . But what shall we think of a governor's playing such pitiful tricks, and imposing so grossly on a poor ignorant boy! It was a habit he had acquired. He wish'd to please everybody ; and, having little to give, he gave expectations. He was other- wise an ingenious, sensible man, a pretty good writer, and a good governor for the people, tho' not for his constituents, the proprietaries, whose instructions he sometimes disregarded. Several of our best laws were of his planning and passed dur- ing his administration. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS, 263 The British government, not choosing to permit the union of the colonies as propos'd at Albany, and to trust that union with their defence, lest they should thereby grow too military and feel their own strength, suspicions and jealousies at this time being entertained of them, sent over General Braddock with two regiments of regular English troops for that pur- pose. He landed^ at Alexandria, in Virginia, and thence march'd to Frederictown, in Maryland, where he halted for carriages. Our Assembly apprehending from some informa- tion that he had conceived violent prejudices against them, as averse to the service, wish'd me to wait upon him, not as from them but as postmaster-general, under the guise of proposing to settle with him the mode of conducting with most celerity and certainty the despatches between him and the governors of the several provinces with whom he must necessarily have continual correspondence and of which they propos'd to pay the expense. My son accompanied me on this journey. We found the general at Frederictown, waiting impatiently for the return of those he had sent thro' the back parts of Maryland and Virginia to collect wagons. I stayed with him several days, din'd with him daily, and had full opportunity of removing all his prejudices by the information of what the Assembly had before his arrival actually done and were still willing to do to facilitate his operations. When I was about to depart, the returns of wagons to be obtained were brought in, by which it appear'd that they amounted only to twenty- five and not all of those were in serviceable condition. The general and all the officers were surpris'd, declar'd the expe- dition was then at an end, being impossible; and exclaim'd against the ministers for ignorantly landing them in a coun- « 1755. 264 THE DEFEAT OF GENERAL BRADDOCK. try destitute of the means of conveying their stores, baggage, etc., not less than one hundred and fifty wagons being neces- sary. I happen'd to say, I thought it was a pity they had not been landed rather in Pennsylvania, as in that country almost every farmer had his wagon. The general eagerly laid hold of my words, and said : " Then you, sir, who are a man of interest there, can probably procure them for us, and I beg you will undertake it." I ask'd what terms were to be offer'd the owners of the wagons, and I was desir'd to put on paper the terms that appeared to me necessary. This I did and they were agreed to, and a commission and instructions accordingly prepar'd immediately. . . . This general was, I think, a brave man and might probably have made a figure as a good officer in some European war. But he had too much self-confidence, too high an opinion of the validity of regular troops, and too mean a one of both Americans and Indians. George Croghan, our Indian inter- preter, join'd him on his march with one hundred of those people who might have been of great use to his army as guides, scouts, etc., if he had treated them kindly, but he slighted and neglected them, and they gradually left him. In conversation with him one day, he was giving me some account of his intended progress. "After taking Fort Du- quesne," says he, "I am to proceed to Niagara, and, having taken that, to Frontenac, if the season will allow time ; and I suppose it will, for Duquesne can hardly detain me above three or four days, and then I see nothing that can obstruct my march to Niagara." Having before revolved in my mind the long line his army must make in their march by a very narrow road to be cut for them thro' the woods and bushes, and also what I had read of a former defeat of fifteen hundred French who invaded the Iroquois country, I had conceived THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 265 some doubts and some fears for the event of the campaign. But I ventur'd only to say : " To be sure, sir, if yo'u arrive well before Duquesne with these fine troops, so well provided with artillery, that place, not yet completely fortified, and as we hear with no very strong garrison, can probably make but a short resistance. The only danger I apprehend of obstruction to your march is from the ambuscades of the Indians, who, by con- stant practice, are dexterous in laying and executing them ; and the slender line, near four miles long, which your army must make, may expose it to be attack'd by surprise in its flanks, and to be cut like a thread into several pieces, which, from their distance, can not come up in time to support each other." He smil'd at my ignorance and reply'd: "These savages may, indeed, be a formidable enemy to your raw American militia, but upon the king's regular and disciplined troops, sir, it is impossible they should make any impression." I was conscious of an impropriety in my disputing with a military man in matters of his profession, and said no more. The enemy, however, did not take the advantage of his army which I apprehended its long line of march expos 'd it to, but let it advance without interruption till within nine miles of the place, and then, when more in a body (for it had just pass'd a river, where the front had halted till all were come over), and in a more open part of the woods than any it had pass'd, attack'd its advanced guard by a heavy fire from behind trees and bushes, which was the first intelligence the general had of an enemy's being near him. This guard being disordered, the general hurried the troops up to their assistance, which was done in great confusion thro' wagons, baggage, and cattle ; and presently the fire came upon their flank : the officers, being on horseback, were more easily distinguish' d, pick'd out as marks, and fell very fast ; and the soldiers were crowded together in 266 THE DEFEAT OF GENERAL BRADBOCK. a huddle, having or hearing no orders, and standing to be shot at till two-thirds of them were killed, and then, being seiz'd with a panic, the whole fled with precipitation. The wagoners took each a horse out of his team and scam- per'd ; their example was immediately followed by others, so that all the wagons, provisions, artillery, and stores, were left to the enemy. The general, being wounded, was brought off with difficulty ; his secretary, Mr. Shirley, was killed by his side, and out of eighty-six officers, sixty-three were killed or wounded, and seven hundred and fourteen men killed out of eleven hundred. These eleven hundred had been picked men from the whole army ; the rest had been left behind with Colonel Dunbar, who was to follow with the heavier part of the stores, provisions, and baggage. The flyers, not being pursu'd, arriv'd at Dunbar's camp, and the panic they brought with them instantly seiz'd him and all his people, and, tho' he had now above one thousand men, and the enemy who had beaten Braddock did not at most exceed four hundred Indians and French together, instead of proceeding and endeavoring to recover some of the lost honor, he ordered all the stores, ammu- nition, etc., to be destroyed, that he might have more horses to assist his flight towards the settlements and less lumber to remove. He was there met with requests from the governors of Virginia, Maryland, and Pennsylvania, that he would post his troops on the frontiers, so as to afford some protection to the inhabitants ; but he continu'd his hasty march thro' all the country, not thinking himself safe till he arriv'd at Philadel- phia, where the inhabitants could protect him. This whole transaction gave us Americans the first suspicion that our exalted ideas of the prowess of British regulars had not been well founded. In their first march, too, from their landing till they got beyond the settlements, they had plundered and stripped the THE HEAET OF OAK BOOKS, 267 inhabitants, totally ruining some poor families, besides insult- ing, abusing, and confining the people, if they remonstrated. This was enough to put us out of conceit of such defenders if we had really wanted any. How different was the conduct of our French friends in 1781, who, during a march thro' the most inhabited part of our country from Rhode Island to Virginia, near seven hundred miles, occasioned not the smallest com- plaint for the loss of a pig, a chicken, or even an apple. Captain Orme, who was one of the general's aides-de-camp, and, being grievously wounded, was brought off with him, and continu'd with him to his death, which happen'd in a few days, told me that he was totally silent all the first day, and at night only said, " Who would have thought it 1 " That he was silent again the following day, saying only at last, " We shall better know how to deal with them another time j " and died in a few minutes after. The secretary's papers, with all the general's orders, instruc- tions, and correspondence, falling into the enemy's hands, they selected and translated into French a number of the articles which they printed, to prove the hostile intentions of the British court before the declaration of war. Among these I saw some letters of the general to the ministry speaking highly of the great service I had rendered the army, and recommending me to their notice. David Hume, too, who was some years after secretary to Lord Hertford when minis- ter in France and afterward to General Conway when secre- tary of state, told me he had seen among the papers in that office, letters from Braddock highly recommending me. But, the expedition having been unfortunate, my service, it seems, was not thought of much value, for those recommendations were never of any use to me. As to rewards from himself, I ask'd only one, which was, that he would give orders to his officers not to enlist any more 268 THE DEFEAT OF GENERAL BRADDOCK, of our bought servants, and that he would discharge such as had been already enlisted. This he readily granted and sev- eral were accordingly return'd to their masters, on my applica- tion. Dunbar, when the command devolv'd on him, was not so generous. He being at Philadelphia on his retreat, or rather flight, I apply'd to him for the discharge of the ser- vants of three poor farmers of Lancaster county that he had enlisted, reminding him of the late general's orders on that head. He promised me that, if the masters would come to him at Trenton, where he should be in a few days on his march to New York, he would there deliver their men to them. They accordingly were at the expense and trouble of going to Trenton, and there he refus'd to perform his promise, to their great loss and disappointment. As soon as the loss of the wagons and horses was generally known, all the owners came upon me for the valuation which I had given bond to pay. Their demands gave me a great deal of trouble, my acquainting them that the money was ready in the paymaster's hands, but that orders for paying it must first be obtained from General Shirley, and my assuring them that I had apply'd to that general by letter ; but, he being at a distance, an answer could not soon be receiv'd, and they must have patience, all this was not sufficient to satisfy, and some began to sue me. General Shirley at length relieved me from this terrible situation by appointing commissioners to examine the claims, and ordering payment. They amounted to near twenty thousand pounds, which to pay would have ruined me. Before we had the news of this defeat, the two Doctors Bond came to me with a subscription paper for raising money to defray the expense of a grand firework which it was in- tended to exhibit at a rejoicing on receipt of the news of our taking Fort Duquesne. I looked grave, and said it would, I THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 2G9 thought, be time enough to prepare for the rejoicing when we knew we should have occasion to rejoice. They seem'd sur- pris'd that I did not immediately comply with their proposal. "Why the d — 1!" says one of them, "you surely don't sup- pose that the fort will not be taken ? " "I don't know that it will not be taken, but I know that the events of war are sub- ject to great uncertainty." I gave them the reasons of my doubting ; the subscription was dropt, and the projectors thereby missed the mortification they would have undergone if the fire- work had been prepared. Dr. Bond, on some other occasion afterward, said that he did not like Franklin's forebodings. THE DIVERTING HISTORY OF JOHN GILPIN. SHOWmO HOW HE WENT FARTHER THAN HE INTENDED AND CAME SAFE HOME AGAIN. William Cowper, John Gilpin was a citizen Of credit and renown ; A trainband captain eke was he, Of famous London town. John Gilpin's spouse said to her dear— " Though wedded we have been These twice ten tedious years, yet we No holiday have seen. "To-morrow is our wedding-day, And we will then repair Unto the Bell at Edmonton All in a chaise and pair. 270 THE DIVERTING HISTORY OF JOHN GILPIN. "My sister, and my sister's child, Myself, and children three, "Will fill the chaise ; so you must ride On horseback after we." He soon replied, " I do admire Of womankind but one. And you are she, my dearest dear; Therefore it shall be done. " I am a linen-draper bold, As all the world doth know ; And my good friend, the calender, Will lend his horse to go. " Quoth Mrs. Gilpin, "That's well said; And, for that wine is dear. We will be furnished with our own. Which is both bright and clear." John Gilpin kissed his loving wife ; O'er joyed was he to find That, though on pleasure she was bent. She had a frugal mind. The morning came, the chaise was brought. But yet was not allowed To drive up to the door, lest all Should say that she was proud. So three doors off the chaise was stayed Where they did all get in — Six precious souls, and all agog To dash through thick and thin. THE REABT OF OAK BOOKS. 271 Smack went the whip, round went the wheels — Were never folk so glad ; The stones did rattle underneath As if Cheapside were mad. John Gilpin at his horse's side Seized fast the flowing mane, And up he got, in haste to ride — But soon came down again : For saddle tree scarce reached had he, His journey to begin. When, turning round his head, he saw Three customers come in. So down he came : for loss of time Although it grieved him sore. Yet loss of pence, full well he knew, Would trouble him much more. 'Twas long before the customers Were suited to their mind; When Betty, screaming, came downstairs — " The wine is left behind ! " " Good lack ! " quoth he — " yet bring it me, My leathern belt likewise, In which I bear my trusty sword. When I do exercise." Now Mistress Gilpin (careful soul!) Had two stone bottles found. To hold the liquor that she loved, And keep it safe and sound. 272 THE DIVERTING HISTOBY OF JOHN GILPIN. Each bottle had a curling ear, Through which the belt he drew, And hung a bottle on each side, To make his balance true. Then over all, that he might be Equipped from top to toe, His long red cloak, well brushed and neat, He manfully did throw. Now see him mounted once again Upon his nimble steed, EuU slowly pacing o'er the stones. With caution and good heed. But finding soon a smoother road Beneath his well-shod feet, The snorting beast began to trot. Which galled him in his seat. So, "Fair and softly," John he cried, But John he cried in vain; That trot became a gallop soon, In spite of curb and rein. So stooping down, as needs he must Who cannot sit upright. He grasped the mane with both his hands. And eke with all his might. His horse, who never in that sort Had handled been before. What thing upon his back had got Did wonder more and more. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 2T6 Away went Gilpin, neck or nought; Away went hat and wig; He little dreamt, when he set out. Of running such a rig. The wind did blow — the cloak did fly, Like streamer long and gay; Till, loop and button failing both. At last it flew away. Then might all people well discern The bottles he had slung — A bottle swinging at each side, As hath been said or sung. The dogs did bark, the children screamed, Up flew the windows all ; And ev'ry soul cried out, "Well done! " As loud as he could bawl. Away went Gilpin — who but he? His fame soon spread around ; — " He carries weight ! he rides a race ! 'Tis for a thousand pound! " And still, as fast as he drew near, 'Twas wonderful to view, How in a trice the turnpike men Their gates wide open threw. And now, as he went bowing down His reeking head full low. The bottles twain behind his back Were shattered at a blow. 274 THE DIVERTING HISTORY OF JOHN GILPIN. Down ran the wine into the road, Most piteous to be seen, Which made his horse's flanks to smoke As they had basted been. But still he seemed to carry weight. With leathern girdle braced; For all might see the bottle-necks Still dangling at his waist. Thus all through merry Islington These gambols did he play. Until he came unto the Wash Of Edmonton so gay ; And there he threw the wash about On both sides of the way, Just like unto a trundling mop. Or a wild goose at play. At Edmonton his loving wife From the balcony spied Her tender husband, wondering much To see how he did ride. " Stop, stop, John Gilpin ! Here's the house," They all aloud did cry ; " The dinner waits, and we are tired : " SaidGilpin, — "SoamI!" But yet his horse was not a whit Inclined to tarry there; For why? — his owner had a house Full ten miles off, at Ware. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 275 So like an arrow swift he flew, Shot by an archer strong ; So did he fly — which brings me to The middle of my song. Away went Gilpin out of breath, And sore against his will. Till at his friend the calender's His horse at last stood still. The calender, amazed to see His neighbor in such trim. Laid down his pipe, flew to the gate, And thus accosted him : "What news? what news? your tidings tell; Tell me you must and shall — Say why bareheaded you are come, Or why you come at all? " Now Gilpin had a pleasant wit, And loved a timely joke ; And thus unto the calender In merry guise he spoke : "I came because your horse would come; And, if I well forebode. My hat and wig will soon be here. They are upon the road." • The calender, right glad to find His friend in merry pin. Returned him not a single word, But to the house went in; 276 THE DIVERTING HISTORY OF JOHN GILPIN. Wlience straight he came with hat and wig : A wig that flowed behind, A hat not much the worse for wear — Each comely in its kind. He held them up, and in his turn Thus showed his ready wit — " My head is twice as big as yours, They therefore needs must fit. " But let me scrape the dirt away That hangs upon your face; And stop and eat, for well you may Be in a hungry case." Said John, "It is my wedding day; And all the world would stare If wife should dine at Edmonton, And I should dine at Ware." So turning to his horse, he said, " I am in haste to dine ; 'Twas for your pleasure you came here — You shall go back for mine." Ah, luckless speech, and bootless boast ! For which he paid full dear ; For, while he spake, a braying ass Did sing most loud and clear; Whereat his horse did snort, as he Had heard a lion roar. And galloped off with all his might, As he had done before. THE HEABT OF OAK BOOKS, 277 Away went Gilpin, and away Went Gilpin's hat and wig: He lost them sooner than at first, For why? — they were too big. Now Mistress Gilpin, when she saw Her husband posting down Into the country far away, ^ She pulled out half a crown; And thus unto the youth she said. That drove them to the Bell, "This shall be yours, when you bring back My husband safe and well." The youth did ride, and soon did meet John coming back amain — Whom in a trice he tried to stop, By catching at his rein ; But not performing what he meant, And gladly would have done, The frighted steed he frighted more, And made him faster run. Away went Gilpin, and away Went post-boy at his heels. The post-boy's horse right glad to miss The lumb'ring of the wheels. Six gentlemen upon the road. Thus seeing Gilpin fly. With post-boy scampering in the rear, They raised the hue and cry : 278 THE SAILOB'8 CONSOLATION. " Stop thief! stop thief! — a highwayman! " Not one of them was mute ; And all and each that passed that way- Did join in the pursuit. And now the turnpike gates again Flew open in short space ; The toll-men thinking as before, That Gilpin rode a race. And so he did, and won it too, For he got first to town ; Nor stopped till where he had got up He did again get down. Now let us sing, Long live the king ! And Gilpin, long live he ; And when he next doth ride abroad, May I be there to see! THE SAILOR'S CONSOLATION. Charles Dihdin, One night came on a hurricane, The sea was mountains rolling, When Barney Buntline turned his quid, And said to Billy Bowling : "A strong nor-wester's blowing, Billj Hark! don't ye hear it roar now? Lord help 'em, how I pities all Unhappy folks on shore now ! THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 279 " Fool-hardy chaps who live in town, What danger they are all in, And now are quaking in their beds, For fear the roof should fall in : Poor creatures, how they envies us, And wishes, I've a notion, Tor our good luck, in such a storm, To be upon the ocean. "But as for them who' re out all day. On business from their houses. And late at night are coming home. To cheer the babes and spouses ; While you and I, Bill, on the deck, Are comfortably lying, My eyes ! what tiles and chimney-pots About their heads are flying ! "And very often have we heard How men are killed and undone, By overturns of carriages. By thieves and tires in London. t We know what risks all landsmen run, Prom noblemen to tailors; Then, Bill, let us thank Providence That you and I are sailors ! " ABOU BEN ADHEM. Leigh Hunt. Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!) Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace, 280 THE GLORY OF THE ENGLISH TONGUE. And saw, within the moonlight in his room, Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom, An angel writing in a book of gold : — Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold. And to the presence in the room he said, "What writest thou? " — The vision rais'd its head, And with a look made of all sweet accord. Answered, " The names of those who love the Lord." "And is mine one?" said Abou. "Nay, not so," Eeplied the angel. Abou spoke more low. But cheerly still ; and said, " I pray thee then. Write me as one that loves his fellow-men." The angel wrote, and vanished. The next night It came again with a great wakening light. And showed the names whom love of God had bless'd, And lo! Ben Adhem' s name led all the rest. THE GLORY OF THE ENGLISH TONGUE. From An Envoy to an American Lady. Richard, Lord Houghton. Beyond the vague Atlantic deep, Far as the farthest prairies sweep. Where forest-glooms the nerve appal, Where burns the radiant Western fall, Our duty lies on old and young, — With filial piety to guard. As on its greenest native sward. The glory of the English tongue. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 281 That ample speech! That subtle speech! Apt for the need of all and each : Strong to endure, yet prompt to bend Wherever human feelings tend. Preserve its force — expand its powers ; And through the maze of civic life, In letters, commerce, even in strife, Forget not it is yours and ours. WHERE LIES THE LAND? Arthur Hugh Clough. Where lies the land to which the ship would go? Far, far ahead, is all her seamen know. And where the land she travels from? Away, Far, far behind, is all that they can say. On sunny noons upon the deck's smooth face. Linked arm in arm, how pleasant here to pace ; Or, o'er the stern reclining, watch below The foaming wake far widening as we go. On stormy nights, when wild northwesters rave. How proud a thing to fight with wind and wave ! I'he dripping sailor on the reeling mast Exults to bear, and scorns to wish it past. Where lies the land to which the ship would go? Far, far ahead, is all her seamen know. And where the land she travels from? Away, Far, far behind, is all that they can say. 282 CHRISTMAS, CHRISTMAS. (In Memoriam, cvi.) Alfred, Lord Tennyson, Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky, The flying cloud, the frosty light : The year is dying in the night ; Ring out, wild bells, and let him die. Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells, across the snow: The year is going, let him go ; Ring out the false, ring in the true. Ring out the grief that saps the mind, For those that here we see no more; Ring out the feud of rich and poor. Ring in redress to all mankind. Ring out a slowly dying cause. And ancient forms of party strife ; Ring in the nobler modes of life, "With sweeter manners, purer laws. Ring out the want, the care, the sin. The faithless coldness of the times ; Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes, But ring the fuller minstrel in. Ring out false pride in place and blood, The civic slander and the spite ; Ring in the love of truth and right. Ring in the common love of good. THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. Eing out old shapes of foul disease ; Eing out the narrowing lust of gold ; Eing out the thousand wars of old, Eing in the thousand years of peace. Eing in the valiant man and free, The larger heart, the kindlier hand; Eing out the darkness of the land, Eing in the Christ that is to be. ^83 THE KITTEN AND FALLING LEAVES. William Wordsworth. That way look, my Infant, lo ! What a pretty baby-show ! See the Kitten on the wall. Sporting with the leaves that fall. Withered leaves — one — two — and three Prom the lofty elder-tree ! Through the calm and frosty air Of this morning bright and fair. Eddying round and round they sink Softly, slowly : one might think. From the motions that are made. Every little leaf conveyed Sylph or Faery hither tending, — To this lower world descending. Each invisible and mute. In his wavering parachute. — But the Kitten, how she starts. Crouches, stretches, paws, and darts ! 284 A PILGRIM, First at one, and then its fellow, Just as light and just as yellow; There are many now — now one — Now they stop and there are none : What intenseness of desire In her upward eye of fire ! With a tiger-leap half-way Now she meets the coming prey, Lets it go as fast, and then Has it in her power again : Now she works with three or four, Like an Indian conjurer; Quick as he in feats of art, Far beyond in joy of heart. Were her antics played in the eye Of a thousand standers-by. Clapping hands with shout and stare, What would little Tabby care For the plaudits of the crowd? Over happy to be proud. Over wealthy in the treasure Of her own exceeding pleasure ! 4f * * * * * A PILGRIM. From The Pilgrim's Progress. John Bunyan. Who would true valor see Let him come hither ! One here will constant be, Come wind, come weather: THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS, 285 There's no discouragement Shall make him once relent His first avow'd intent, To be a Pilgrim. Whoso beset him round With dismal stories, Do but themselves confound ; His strength the more is. No lion can him fright. He'll with a giant fight. But he will have a right. To be a Pilgrim. Hobgoblin, nor foul fiend, Can daunt his spirit; He knows he at the end Shall Life inherit. Then, fancies, fly away, He'll fear not what men say, He'll labor, night and day. To be a Pilgrim. THE LITTLE BLACK BOY. William Blake. My mother bore me in the southern wild. And I am black, but oh ! my soul is white ; White as an angel is the English child. But I am black, as if bereaved of light. 286 THE LITTLE BLACK BOT. My mother taught me underneath a tree, And sitting down before the heat of day, She took me on her lap, and kissed me. And, pointing to the East, began to say : — " Look on the rising sun, — there God does live, And gives His light, and gives His heat away ; And flowers, and trees, and beasts, and men receive Comfort in morning, joy in the noon-day. "And we are put on earth a little space. That we may learn to bear the beams of love ; And these black bodies and this sun-burnt face Are but a cloud, and like a shady grove. "For when our souls have learned the heat to bear, The clouds will vanish, we shall hear His voice. Saying, ' Come out from the grove, my love and care. And round my golden tent like lambs rejoice.' " Thus did my mother say, and kissed me ; And thus I say to little English boy, — " When I from black, and he from white cloud free, And roimd the tent of God like lambs we joy, " I'll shade him from the heat, till he can bear To lean in joy upon our Father's knee ; And then I'll stand, and stroke his silver hair, And be like him, and he will then love me." THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS, 287 THE TIGER. William Blake. Tiger, tiger, burning bright, In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry ? In what distant deeps or skies Burnt the fire of thine eyes ? On what wings dare he aspire ? What the hand dare seize the fire ? And what shoulder, and what art. Could twist the sinews of thy heart ? And when thy heart began to beat, What dread hand and what dread feet ? What the hammer ? what the chain ? In what furnace was thy brain ? What the anvil ? what dread grasp Dare its deadly terrors clasp ? When the stars threw down their spears, And water'd heaven with their tears. Did he smile his work to see ? Did He who made the lamb make thee ? Tiger, tiger, burning bright In the forests of the night. What immortal hand or eye Dare frame thy fearful symmetry ? 288 THE DOG AND THE WATER-LILT. THE FLY. Occasioned by a Fly drinking out of the Authob's Cup. William Oldys, Bust, curious, thirsty fly, Drink with me, and drink as I; Freely welcome to my cup, Couldst thou sip, and sip it up. Make the most of life you may; Life is short, and wears away ! Both alike are mine and thine, Hastening quick to their decline ; Thine's a summer ; mine's no more, Though repeated to threescore ; Threescore summers, when they're gone, Will appear as short as one. THE DOG AND THE WATER-LILY. William Couuper. The noon was shady, and soft airs Swept Ousels silent tide, When, 'scap'd from literary cares, I wandered on his side. My spaniel, prettiest of his race. And high in pedigree, (Two nymphs adorn'd with ev'ry grace That spaniel found for me,) THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 289 Now wanton'd lost in flags and reeds, Now, starting into sight, Pursued the swallow o'er the meads With scarce a slower flight. It was the time when Ouse displayed His lilies newly blown; Their beauties I intent surveyed, And one I wish'd my own. With cane extended far I sought To steer it close to land; But still the prize, though nearly caught, Escap' d my eager hand. Beau marked my unsuccessful pains With fix'd, considerate face, And puzzling set his puppy brains To comprehend the case. But with a cherup clear and strong, Dispersing all his dream, I thence withdrew, and followed long The windings of the stream. My ramble ended, I return^; Beau, trotting far before, The floating wreath again discerned, And plunging left the shore. I saw him with that lily cropp'd Impatient swim to meet My quick approach, and soon he dropped The treasure at my feet. 290 TO A WATER-FOWL. Charm'd with the sight, " The world," I cried, " Shall hear of this thy deed ; My dog shall mortify the pride Of man's superior breed ; "But chief myself I will enjoin, Awake at duty's call. To show a love as prompt as thine To Him who gives me all." TO A WATER-FOWL. William Cullen Bryant Whither, midst falling dew. While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way ? Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky. Thy figure floats along. Seek'st thou the plashy brink Of weedy lake, or marge of river wide, Or where the rocking billows rise and sink On the chafed ocean-side ? There is a Power whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast — The desert and illimitable air — Lone wandering, but not lost. TEE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 291 All day thy wings have fanned, At that far height, the cold, thin atmosphere, Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land, Though the dark night is near. And soon that toil shall end ; Soon shalt thou find a summer home, and rest. And scream among thy fellows ; reeds shall bend, Soon, o'er thy sheltered nest. Thou'rt gone, the abyss of heaven Hath swallowed up thy form ; yet, on my heart Deeply has sunk the lesson thou hast given. And shall not soon depart. He who, from zone to zone. Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight, In the long way that I must tread alone, Will lead my steps aright. THE LAST LEAF.i Oliver Wendell Holmes. I SAW him once before. As he passed by the door, And again The pavement stones resound, As he totters o'er the ground With his cane. 1 This poem was suggested by the appearance in one of our streets of a venerable relic of the Kevolution, said to be one of the party who threw the tea overboard in Boston Harbor. He was a fine monumental specimen in his cocked hat and knee breeches, with his buckled shoes and his sturdy cane. The smile with which I, as a young man, greeted him, meant no disrespect to an honored fellow-citizen whose costume was out of date, but whose patriotism never changed with years. 292 THE LAST LEAF, They say that in his prime, Ere the pruning-knife of Time Cut him down, Not a better man was found By the Crier on his round Through the town. But now he walks the streets, And he looks at all he meets Sad and wan, And he shakes his feeble head. That it seems as if he said, " They are gone." The mossy marbles rest On the lips that he has presst In their bloom. And the names he loved to hear Have been carved for many a year On the tomb. My grandmamma has said — Poor old lady, she is dead Long ago — That he had a Boman nose, And his cheek was like a rose In the snow. But now his nose is thin. And it rests upon his chin Like a staff. And a crook is in his back. And a melancholy crack In his laugh. THE HEABT OF OAK BOOKS. 293 I know it is a sin For me to sit and grin At him here ; But the old three-cornered hat, And the breeches, and all that, Are so queer ! And if I should live to be The last leaf upon the tree In the spring, Let them smile, as I do now, At the old forsaken bough Where I cling. "AS AN OAK WHOSE LEAF FADETH." Edward Fitzgerald. As are the leaves on the trees, even so are man's generations ; This is the truest verse ever a poet has sung : Nevertheless few hearing it hear ; Hope, flattering alway, Lives in the bosom of all — reigns in the blood of the young. When Sir Walter Scott lay dying, he called for his son-in- law, and while the Tweed murmured through the woods, and a September sun lit up the bowers, whose growth he had watched so eagerly, said to him, " Be a good man ; only that can com- fort you when you come to lie here ! '' " Be a good man ! " To that threadbare Truism shrunk all that gorgeous tapestry of written and real Eomance. 294 CONCORD HYMN, CONCORD HYMN. Sung at the Completion of the Battle Monument, April 19, 1836. Ralph Waldo Emerson. Br the rude bridge that arched the flood, Their flag to April's breeze unfurled, Here once the embattled farmers stood. And fired the shot heard round the world. The foe long since in silence slept ; Alike the conqueror silent sleeps ; And Time the ruined bridge has swept Down the dark stream which seaward creeps. On this green bank, by this soft stream, We set to-day a votive stone j That memory may their deed redeem. When, like our sires, our sons are gone. Spirit, that made those heroes dare To die, and leave their children free, Bid Time and Nature gently spare The shaft we raise to them and thee. The Monument at Concord. From a photograph. NOTES. Page 1. — The Whistle. Franklin was one of three commissioners appointed by Congress, Sept. 26, 1776, to take charge of American affairs in Europe, and to endeavor to procure a treaty of alliance with the Court of France. Paris proved too public a place for such a lion as Dr. Frank- lin had then become, and he was but too happy to accept the invitation of M. Le Ray de Chaumont, a warm, steadfast, and most useful friend of the Americans, to accept a house at Passy, then about three miles from Paris, but included within the city limits during the Second Empire. From there, Nov. 10, 1779, he wrote to Madame Brillon a letter containing this famous anecdote. "I am charmed with your description of Paradise, and with your plan of living there ; and I approve much of your conclu- sion, that, in the meantime, we should draw all the good we can from this world. In my opinion we might all draw more good from it than we do, and suffer less evil, if we would take care not to give too much for whistles. For to me it seems that most of the unhappy people we meet with are become so by neglect of that caution. You ask what I mean ? You love stories, and will excuse my telling one of myself." (Collected Works, ed. John Bigelow, VI., 240, 241.) Page 2. — The Memoirs of Holcroft, which Thomas Moore regarded as " amongst the most interesting specimens of autobiography we have," were edited by William Hazlitt in 1810, the year after his friend's death, but were not published until 1816, in three volumes, 12mo. The book became scarce, and in 1852 "this most entertaining biography of a remarkable man" was included in Longman's "Traveller's Library" in a small volume of about three hundred pages, from which the extracts in this book are taken. Holcroft did not begin the long-projected account of his own life until just before his death. By dictating a word at a time, he succeeded in bringing it down to his fifteenth year. "When the clearness, minuteness, and vividness of what he thus wrote are com- pared with the feeble, half-convulsed state in which it was written, it will be difficult to bring a stronger instance of the exertion of resolution 295 296 NOTES. and firmness of mind, under such circumstances." . . . "Cradled in poverty, with no education save what he could pick up for himself, amid incessant struggles for bare existence, — by turns a pedlar, a stable boy, a shoemaker, and a strolling player, — he yet contrived to surmount the most untoward circumstances, and at last took his place, among the most distinguished writers of his age, as a novelist, a dramatist, and a transla- tor." He was " one of the most candid, most upright, and single-meaning men," Charles Lamb ever knew. (Works, ed. P. Fitzgerald, VI., 78.) Page 65. — "Even Caxton," says Wright, in his Introduction to The History of King Arthur , "did not think of printing a book on this subject (romances relating to King Arthur and his knights) until he was pressed to do it, as he informs us, by ' many noble and dyvers gentylmen of thys royame ' ; and then he seems to have been at a loss to find any book which would suit his purpose, until he was helped out of this diffi- culty by Sir Thomas Malory, who had compiled a book ' oute of certeyn bookes of Frensshe, and reduced it into Englysshe.' All we know of Sir Thomas Malory is that he tells us himself, at the conclusion of his book, that he was a knight, and that he completed his compilation in the ninth year of the reign of Edward IV., that is, in the course of the year 1469 or early in 1470, or more than fifteen years before Caxton printed it." Pages 69 and 78. — The legends of King Arthur took an early hold on Tennyson's imagination. In 1842 he published Sir Galahad and Morte d^ Arthur with Sir Launcelot and Queen Guinevere. In 1859 he put forth the Idylls of the King, and ten years later four new Idylls, in one of which. The Passing of Arthur^ the Morte d^ Arthur of 1842 was woven. Page 81. — The full title is: "The Pilgrim's Progress from this World to that which is to come, delivered under the Similitude of a Dream, wherein is discovered the manner of his Setting Out, his Dan- gerous Journey, and Safe Arrival at the Desired Country, by John Bunyan." In " The Author's Apology for his Book," Bunyan says : — •' When at the first I took my Pen In hand Thus for to write ; I did not understand That I at all should make a little Book In such a mode. ... I writing of the Way And Race of Saints, in this our Gospel-day, Fell suddenly into an Allegory About their Journey, and the way to Glory." Page 92. — The title as a whole is : " The Lives of the Noble Grecians and Romans, compared together by that grave learned Philosopher and THE HEART OF OAK BOOKS. 297 Historiographer, Plutarch of Cheer onea : translated out of Greeke into French by James Amiot, Abbot of Bellozane, Bishop of Auxerre, one of the King's Privie Counsell, and a great amner of France, and out of French into English, by Thomas North." The first edition was printed in 1579. A copy printed in 1595, the edition Shakespeare is supposed to have used, is in Harvard College Library, and is the source of this selection. Page 128. — The Tales of a Grandfather were written for the use of Hugh Littlejohn Lockhart. In Sir Walter's Journal we find entered the 13th of January, 1829 : " Alas, my poor Johnnie is, I fear, come to lay his bones in his native land. . . . The poor child is so much bent on coming to see Abbotsford and grandpapa that it would be cruel not to comply with his wish — and if affliction comes we will bear it best together. ... It must be all as God wills. Perhaps his native air may be of service." And in January, 1832 : " Poor Johnny Lockhart ! The boy is gone whom we have made so much of." Page 205. — Bobin Hood and Allin a Dale. "The ballad is first found in broadside copies of the latter half of the seventeenth century," says Professor Child in his English and Scottish Popular Ballads. '* The story is told of Scarlock in the life of Robin Hood in Sloane MS. of the end of the sixteenth century : ' One day meeting him [Scarlock] as he walked solitary and lyke to a man forlome, because a mayd to whom he was affyanced was taken from [himj by the violence of her frends, and given to another, that was auld and welthy ; whereupon Robin, under- standyng when the maryage-day should be, came to the church as a beggar, and having his company not far off, which came in so sone as they hard the sound of his home, he " took " the bryde perforce from him that was in hand to have maryed her, and caused the priest to wed her and Scarlock togeyther.' " Page 209. — The exuberant mirth of Lewis Carroll's "dream-child, moving through a land of wonders wild and new," may be best recalled by the text that introduces and follows the verses ; — " I can't remember things as I used — and I don't keep the same size for ten minutes together." " Can't remember what things ? " said the Caterpillar. "Well, I've tried to say, 'How doth the little busy bee,' but it all came different," Alice replied in a melancholy voice. " Repeat, ' You are old, Father William ! ' " said the Caterpillar. Alice folded her hands and began : — ******* " That is not said right," said the Caterpillar. 298 NOTES. "Not quite right, I'm afraid," said Alice timidly; *'some of the words have got altered." *'It is wrong from beginning to end," said the Caterpillar decidedly, and there was silence for some minutes. Page 220. — For this poem, published in 1845, there seems to be no historic basis. Page 224. — " To-day," wrote Southey on the 11th of October, 1811, to his brother, Captain Southey, "I resume the long-suspended Life of Nelson, which I shall bring on that Murray may not lose the spring sale." On December 30, 1812, he wrote again: " I am such a lubber that I feel half ashamed of myself for being persuaded ever even to review the Life of Nelson, much more to write one. Had I not been a thorough lubber, I should have remembered half a hundred things worthy of re- membrance, which have all been lost, because, though I do know the binnacle from the main-mast, I know little more : tackle and sheet and tally and belay are alike to me ; and if you ask me about the lee-clue garnet, I can only tell they are not the same kind of garnets that are worn in necklaces and bracelets." Page 248. — " Jaffar" appeared in the New Monthly Magazine, Feb- ruary, 1850. " Abou Ben Adhem," on page 277, was published in 1844. "Hunt was a beautiful old man," writes Hawthorne. "In truth I never saw a finer countenance, either as to the mould of features or the expression, nor any that showed the play of feeling so perfectly." Page 269. — "It is a remarkable fact," says Hayley, in the Life and Posthumous Writings of William Cowper, " that, full of gaiety and humor as this favorite of the public has proved itself to be, it [John Gilpin] was really composed at a time when the spirit of the poet, as he informed me himself, was very deeply tinged with his depressive malady. It happened one afternoon, in that year when his accomplished friend Lady Austen made a part of his little evening circle, that she observed him sinking into increasing dejection ; it was her custom, on these occasions, to try all the resources of her sprightly powers for his immediate relief. She told him the story of John Gilpin (which had been treasured in her memory from her childhood) to dissipate the gloom of the passing hour. Its effect on the fancy of Cowper had the air of enchantment : he informed her the next morning that convulsions of laughter, brought on by his recollection of her story, had kept him waking during the greatest part of the night ; and that he had turned it into a ballad. So arose the pleasant story of John Gilpin." THE HEABT OF OAK BOOKS. 299 A somewhat different version of the origin of the poem is given by Thomas Wright, Principal of Cowper School^ Olney. "Lady Austen's story made such an impression on his mind that at night he could not sleep ; and his thoughts having taken the form of rhyme, he sprang from bed, and committed them to paper, and in the morning brought down to Mrs. Unwin the crude outline of ' John Gilpin.' All that day and for several days he secluded himself in the greenhouse, and went on with the task of polishing and improving what he had written. As he filled his slips of paper he sent them across the Market-place to Mr. Wilson, to the great delight and merriment of that jocular barber, who on several other occasions had been favored with the first sight of some of Cowper' s smaller poems. . . . That the facts here stated are accurate we have the authority of Mrs. Wilson ; moreover, it has always been said in Olney that ' John Gilpin ' was written in the ' greenhouse,' and that the first person who saw the complete poem, and consequently the fore- runner of that noble army who have made merry over its drolleries, was William Wilson, the barber. 'The story of "John Gilpin,"' observes Hazlitt, ' has perhaps given as much pleasure to as many people as any- thing of the same length that ever was written.'" Life of William Coicper, London, T. Fisher Unwin, 1892, p. 311. Page 283. — " Composed 1804; published 1807; seen at Town-end, Grasmere. The elder-bush has long since disappeared ; it hung over the wall near the cottage : and the kitten continued to leap up, catching the leaves as here described. The infant was Dora Wordsworth." — Wordsworth^s note. Page 287. — Charles Lamb writes : " I have heard of his [Blake's] poems, but have never seen them. There is one to a tiger, beginning : — ' Tiger ! tiger I burning bright,' which is glorious ! " In the third stanza, Mr. D. G. Rossetti's reading, " What dread hand formed thy dread feet ? " is perhaps more intelligible, but it is not what Blake wrote. The text of Blake given in this series is an exact reprint of the original versions in Songs of Innocence, 1789, and JSongs of Expe- rience, 1794. Page 293. — "When Sir Walter Scott lay dying" is taken from i'itzgerald's quaint and characteristic Preface on Truisms ("into which all truth must ultimately be dogs-eared"), prefixed to Folonius : A Collection of Wise Saws and Modern Instances. London: William Pickering, 1852, p. v. INDEX OF WRITERS. WITH DATES OF BIRTH AND DEATH. Anonymous. page Allin a Dale 205 Arabian Nights Entertainment : the Story of Sinbad the Sailor 8 Bewick and Grahame 118 Chevy Chase 109 Sir Patrick Spens 104 Blake, William (1757-1827). The Little Black Boy 285 The Tiger 287 Browning, Robert (1812-1891). Home Thoughts from the Sea 244 How they brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix 220 Incident of the French Camp 216 Bryant, William Cullen (1794-1878). To a Water-Fowl 290 BuNYAN, John (1628-1688). A Pilgrim 284 Vanity Fair 81 Burns, Robert (1759-1796). Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled 127 Campbell, Thomas (1777-1844). Lord Ullin's Daughter 218 Carroll, Lewis (Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, 1832-1890). You are Old, Father William 209 301 302 INDEX OF WRITERS. Clough, Arthur Hugh (1819-1861). pace Columbus 245 Where lies the Land ? 281 CowPER, William (1731-1800). The Diverting History of John Gilpin 269 The Dog and the Water-Lily 288 DiBDiN, Charles (1745-1814). The Sailor's Consolation 278 Emerson, Ralph Waldo (1803-1882). Concord Hymn 294 Fitzgerald, Edward (1809-1883). " As an Oak whose Leaf fadeth " 293 " When Sir Walter Scott lay dying " 293 Franklin, Benjamin (1706-1790). Parts of the Autobiography of 249 The Whistle 1 Hemans, Felicia Browne (1793-1835). The Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers in New England 223 Holcroft, Thomas (1745-1809). Incidents in Early Life of Thomas Holcroft. 2 Holmes, Oliver Wendell (1809-1895). The Last Leaf 291 Houghton, Richard, Lord (1809-1885). The Glory of the English Tongue 280 Hunt, Leigh (1784-1859). Abou Ben Adhem 279 Jaff^r 248 Kipling, Rudyard (1863-). The Ballad of East and West 211 Lowell, James Russell (1819-1891). • Yussouf 7 Malory, Thomas (about 1430-). The Death of King Arthur 64 North, Thomas (between 1525 and 1605). The Death of Caesar 92 INDEX OF WBITEBS. 303 Oldys, William (1696-1761). pagb The Fly 288 Scott, Walter (1771-1832). Chapters from Tales of a Grandfather 128 Helvellyn 246 Shakespeare, William (1564-1616). Will you buy any Tape ? 92 Youth and Age 210 Southey, Egbert (1774-1843). The Battle of Trafalgar and the Death of Nelson 224 Tennyson, Alfred, Lord (1810-1892). Christmas 282 The Passing of Arthur , 68 Sir Galahad 78 Turner, Charles Tennyson (1808-1879). Hero and Leander 218 Wordsworth, William (1770-1850). The Kitten and Falling Leaves 283 REUSED AND ILLUSTRATED The Heart of Oak Books A Collection of Traditional Rhymes and Stories for Children, and of Masterpieces of Poetry and Prose for Use at Home and at School, chosen with special reference to the cultivation of the imagination and the development of a taste for good reading. EDITED BY CHARLES ELIOT NORTON Book I. Rhymes, Jingles and Fables. For first reader classes. Illustrated by Frank T. Merrill. 128 pages. 25 cents. Book n. Fables and Nursery Tales. For second reader classes. Illustrated by Frank T. Merrill. 176 pages. 35 cents. Book HI. Fairy Tales, Ballads and Poems. For third reader classes. With illustrations after George Cruikshank and Sir John Tenniel. 184 pages. 40 cents. Book rV. Fairy Stories and Classic Tales of Adventure. For fourth reader grades. With illustrations after J. M. W. Turner, Richard Doyle, John Flaxman, and E. Burne-Jones. 248 pages. 45 cents. Book V. Masterpieces of Literature. For fifth reader grades. With illustra- tions after G. F. Watts, Sir John Tenniel, Fred Barnard, W. C. Stanfield, Ernest Fosbery, and from photographs. 318 pages- 50 cents. Book VI. Masterpieces of Literature. With illustrations after Horace Vernet, A. Symington, J. Wells, Mrs. E. B. Thompson, and from photo- graphs. 376 pages. 55 cents. Book Vn. Masterpieces of Literature. With illustrations after J. M. W. Tur- ner, E. Dayes, Sir George Beaumont, and from photographs. 382 pages. 60 cents. D. C. HEATH y CO., Publishers BOSTON NEW YORK CHICAGO LONDON RETURN TO the circulation desk of any University of California Library or to the NORTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY BIdg. 400, Richmond Field Station University of California Richmond, CA 94804-4698 ALL BOOKS MAY BE RECALLED AFTER 7 DAYS 2-month loans may be renewed by calling (510)642-6753 1-year loans may be recharged by bringing books to NRLF Renewals and recharges may be made 4 days prior to due date DUE AS STAMPED BELOW JUL 13 1995 20,000 (4/94) J YB 36812 56205 1 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA UBRARY .'::i::.{;i]!:«»Ia