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THE 
 
 HISTORICAL CABINET; 
 
 CONTAINING 
 
 AUTHENTIC ACCOUNTS 
 
 OF MANY 
 
 REMARKABLE AND INTERESTING EVENTS, 
 
 WHICH HAVE TAKEN PLACE IN MODERN TIMES. 
 
 Carefully collected and compiled from various and authentic sources, and not to bt 
 found in any one work hitherto published. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED WITH ENGRAVINGS. 
 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 PUBLISHED BY LEAHY & GETZ, 
 
 NO. 224 NORTH SECOND STREET. 
 

 Entered according to the. Act of Congress, in the year 1838, by ju. H. Young, 
 in the Clerk' s office of the District Court of Connecticut. 
 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 There is probably no history made up of well-authenticated 
 facts, which does not contain sufficient matter to interest and 
 instruct, without the aid of fiction. False and distorted views 
 of human life, although they may excite the feelings, can 
 never improve the mind. 
 
 Care has been taken in this publication, to make those se- 
 lections only, which are well authenticated. The greater part 
 are taken from works of the first respectability in Great Bri- 
 tain, and elsewhere. 
 
 In this country, a great proportion of the reading class seek 
 books for the sake of amusement. It should therefore be an 
 object with publishers to furnish such works as will not only 
 entertain, but at the same time impart solid and useful instruc- 
 tion. This has been attempted in the compilation of the work 
 now in the reader's hands. 
 
 A natural desire to know all that is remarkable in the his- 
 tory of man, seems to be implanted in every breast ; and the 
 most powerful emotions may be awakened by the recital of all 
 those transactions, in which the various passions and virtues 
 
 of oui race are delineated. 
 
 1* 
 
VI PREFACE. 
 
 A work thus calculated to interest the public, if executed 
 faithfully, witn a view to its real object, will be admitted worthy 
 of patronage. Such a one, it is hoped the present wiU be 
 found, and in this belief, it is respectfully presented by 
 
 The Publisher. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 An account of the Great Plague in the fourteenth Century 9 
 
 Joan of Arc, the Maid of Orleans 17 
 
 Discovery of the Pacific by Balboa 20 
 
 Pizarro the Conqueror of Peru 26 
 
 Sufferings of "William Lithgow by the Inquisition 38 
 
 Escape of Mr. Bower from the Inquisition 51 
 
 Tomaso Anello, the Fisherman of Naples 64 
 
 The Brotherhood of Mercy 67 
 
 Preservation of Gustavus Vasa, King of Sweden 75 
 
 Bravery and Sufferings of the Vaudois, (Waldenses) 79 
 
 The Great Plague in London 91 
 
 The Great Fire in London, in 1666 95 
 
 Trial and execution of Charles 1 99 
 
 Discovery of the Niagara Falls .'106 
 
 First Settlers on the Ohio 113 
 
 Discovery' of the Kine Pox by Jenner 120 
 
 The Wild Pigeon of America 127 
 
 Massacre in Glencoe 130 
 
 Voyage of Heemskirk and Barentz to the Polar Regions 132 
 
 Charles XII. of Sweden ' 142 
 
 Bravery of Serjeant Jasper 147 
 
 Lydia Darrah 150 
 
 Last Hours of Washington 152 
 
 Earthquake in Calabria, in 1783 155 
 
 Tk e Maroon War in Jamaica 169 
 
 Narrative of some events in the Irish Rebellion 179 
 
 Alexander Selkirk 19, K 
 
 Taking of the Bastile 201 
 
 Execution of Louis XVI 207 
 
 Charlotte Corday 211 
 
 Narrative, by Abbe Morellet during the French Revolution 214 
 
Viii CONTENTS. 
 
 Battle of Aboukir 225 
 
 Passage of the Alps by Bonaparte 231 
 
 Battle of Trafalgar 234 
 
 Siege of Zaragoza 244 
 
 Storming and Sacking of Badajoz in 1812 254 
 
 Storming of St. Sebastian 269 
 
 Burning of Moscow 278 
 
 Death of Murat 289 
 
 Death of Napoleon .303 
 
 Battle of Algiers 312 
 
 Destruction of the Janissaries 320 
 
 Exploits of Kanaris 324 
 
 Battle of Navarino 333 
 
 Cave of Har Hassan 344 
 
 Caspar Hauser, the Nuremberg Boy 349 
 
 History of Poland 354 
 
 Attempted Assassination of Stanislaus, King of Poland 366 
 
 Narrative of the Polish Insurrection 371 
 
 Irish Rebellion in 1798 383 
 
 Account of Gibraltar 398 
 
 French Exiles to South America 404 
 
 Death of Hofer 428 
 
 Kosciusko 432 
 
 Massacre of the Mamelukes, in 1811 438 
 
 Mallet's extraordinary attempt to overthrow the Empire of France. .440 
 
 Escape of Lavalette 443 
 
 Story of the Plague at Constantinople 458 
 
 Earthquake at New Madrid, in 1812 .466 
 
 Earthquake at Caraccas, in 1812 468 
 
 Execution of Calas .477 
 
 The Miners of Bois-Monzil 483 
 
 Exhumation of the remains of Major Andre 491 
 
 Revolution in Paris 498 
 
 Account of the Indian or Spasmodic Cholera 510 
 
THE 
 
 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 AN ACCOUNT OF THE GREAT PLAGUE IN THE FOURTEENTH 
 CENTURY. 
 
 The memory of the great plague in London has been ren- 
 dered immortal by the prose of Daniel Defoe, and the poetry of 
 John Wilson. But the greater plague which overran almost 
 the whole world, three centuries before, is almost forgotten. A 
 slight sketch of its history, drawn from all chroniclers, will 
 show, by comparison, what a small matter is magnified into a 
 pestilence in the present day. 
 
 This dreadful pestilence, like the cholera, made its first ap- 
 pearance in the East. It arose in China, Tartary, India, and 
 Egypt, about the year 1345. It is ascribed by the contempora- 
 ry writers, Mezeray and Giovanni Villani, to a general corrup- 
 tion of the atmosphere, accompanied by the appearance of mil- 
 lions of small serpents and other venomous insects, and, in other 
 places, quantities of huge vermin, with numerous legs, and of 
 a hideous aspect, which filled the air with putrid exhalations. 
 Some zealous Christian writers of the time derived its origin 
 from the arch-impostor Mahomet ; for they say that, at Mecca, 
 in Arabia Felix, it rained snakes and blood from heaven for 
 three days and nights together , that the temple of Mahomet 
 was beaten down by a terrible tempest, and his sepulcher torn 
 up and broken in pieces ; and that the sulphurous vapors, and 
 the stench of the snakes and blood, so corrupted the middle re- 
 gion of the air, that the infectious matter spread itself over the 
 world in all directions. Making every allowance for the igno- 
 rance and credulity of the age, it appears evident that some na- 
 tural causes had contributed to corrupt the air and load it with 
 pestiferous vapors. And it is remarkable that, before the disease 
 appeared in Europe, singular meteorological phenomena, of 
 
 
»0 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 A similar nature took place. Thus, it came into England in 
 the end of the year 1348 ; and it had rained from the previous 
 Christmas till Midsummer almost without ceasing ; " so that 
 all the while," to use the words of an old writer, " it hardly 
 ever held up so much as for one day and night together." 
 Great inundations followed ; and accumulations of stagnant 
 water, by which the whole atmosphere was poisoned. In France, 
 several strange meteoric appearances are described by writers of 
 credit. Giovanni Villani says, that on the 20th of December, 
 1348, in the morning, after sunrise, there appeared at Avignon, 
 over the pope's palace, a pillar of fire, which tarried there for the 
 space of an hour, producing general terror and amazement. 
 
 During the same period there were many dreadful earth- 
 quakes, some of them in such places where such phenomena 
 have since been unheard of. At Rome, an earthquake threw 
 down a great number of houses, steeples, and churches. At 
 Naples, there was an earthquake, accompanied with a tremen- 
 dous hurricane, which destroyed a large portion of the city. 
 On this occasion, it is related, that while a friar was preaching 
 to a crowded congregation, he and his auditory were swallow- 
 ed up in an instant — all but one individual, who observed the 
 trembling of the earth in time to save himself by flight. A 
 great multitude of the inhabitants were buried in the ruins of 
 their habitations ; and the citizens durst not venture into their 
 houses, but remained terrified in the market places or fields, 
 till the earthquake (which continued by fits for eight days) had 
 spent its fury. In Greece, particularly in the Morea and the 
 island of Cyprus, whole villages were overwhelmed. Even 
 in Germany, a country not liable to this calamity, there was 
 an earthquake which extended over a great part of Austria 
 and Syria, and destroyed many towns and villages, in those 
 districts ; " and many other provinces," says an old historian, 
 " suffered such lasting characters of the fury of these strong 
 convulsions of nature, that, lest the joint concurrence of so 
 many authors of those days should not obtain sufficient cre- 
 dit, they might be very plainly read even by late posterity." 
 These earthquakes were generally attended with storms of 
 thunder and lightning, wind and hail. In the year 1348, ac- 
 cording to Lampadius, it rained blood in Germany, and meteors 
 and other corruscations appeared in the air. Mock suns were 
 seen, and the heavens sometimes seemed on fire. 
 
 In many of these accounts we may presume that there is a 
 good deal of exaggeration. But the testimonies are too numer- 
 ous and respectable to leave any doubt that, before and during 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 11 
 
 the pestilence, the elements were in a state of general convul- 
 sion which seems unparalleled in history. 
 
 The plague extended its ravages from India into the more 
 western parts of Asia, into Egypt, Abyssinia, and thence into 
 the northern parts of Africa. It proceeded over Asia Minor, 
 Greece, and the islands in the Archipelago ; almost depopula- 
 ting the regions over which it stalked. It may he literally 
 said to have decimated the world, even though we were to take 
 this term as implying the destruction of nine, in place of one, 
 out of ten. According to Mezeray and other writers, where 
 it was most favorable it left one out of three, or one out of five ; 
 but where it raged most violently, it scarce left a fifteenth or 
 twentieth person alive. Some countries, partly by the plague, 
 and partly by earthquakes, were left quite desolate. Giovanni 
 Villani says that in a part of Mesopotamia, only some women 
 survived, who were driven by extremity and despair to devour 
 one another. 
 
 The plague appears to have stayed five or six months in one 
 place, and then to have gone in search of fresh victims. Its 
 symptoms are minutely described by many writers, and appear 
 to have been the same in every country it visited. It generally 
 appeared in the groin, or under the armpits, where swellings 
 were produced, which broke into sores, attended with fever, spit- 
 ting and vomiting of blood. The patient frequently died in half 
 a day — generally within a day or two at the most. If he survived 
 the third day, there was hope ; though even then many fell 
 into a deep sleep from which they never awoke. 
 
 Before the pestilence invaded Christendom, it is recorded, in 
 a report made to the pope at Avignon, that it swept away twen- 
 ty-three millions eight hundred thousand persons, throughout 
 the East, in the course of a single year. While the Christians 
 remained untouched, their supposed immunity, since their 
 neighbors were suffering the extremity of the malady, ope- 
 rated so strongly on the minds of some of the heathen princes, 
 that they resolved to propitiate Heaven, by embracing Chris- 
 tianity. The king of Tarsis, accompanied by a great multitude 
 of his princes and nobles, actually set out on his journey to 
 Avignon, to receive baptism from Pope Clement VI. But 
 hearing on his way that the Christians too had become victims 
 to the destroyer, he returned home, with the loss of about two 
 thousand men, whom the Christians most ungenerously attack- 
 ed and cut off in the rear of his army. 
 
 From Greece the plague passed into Italy. The Venetians, 
 having lost 100,000 souls, fled from their city, and left it nl 
 
12 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 most uninhabited. At Florence, 60,000 persons died in one 
 year. Among these was the historian Giovanni Villani, whose 
 writings we have already referred to. He was one of the most 
 distinguished men of his age ; and his historical works are 
 looked upon as correct and valuable. He was the annalist of 
 this pestilence almost down to the day of his falling a victim to 
 it. France next became exposed to its ravages. At Avignon 
 the mortality was horrible. In the strong language of Stow, 
 people died, bleeding at the nose, mouth, and fundament ; so 
 that rivers ran with blood, and streams of putrid gore issued 
 from the graves and sepulchers of the dead. When it first 
 broke out there, no % wer than sixty-six of the Carmelite friars 
 died before any body knew how, so that it was imagined they 
 had murdered one another. Of the members of the English 
 college at Avignon, not one was left alive; and of the whole 
 inhabitants of the city, not one in five. According to a state- 
 ment or bill of mortality, laid before the pope, there died in one 
 day 1212, and in another 400 persons. The malady proceed- 
 ed northward through France, till it reached Paris, where it 
 cut off 50,000 people. About the same time it spread into Ger- 
 many, where its ravages are estimated at the enormous amount 
 of 12,400,000 souls. At Lubeck alone, according to the concur- 
 ring accounts of several writers, 90,000 persons were swept 
 away in one year, of whom 1500 are reported to have died in 
 the space of four hours 
 
 At last this fearful scourge began to be felt in England. 
 About the beginning of August, 1348, it appeared in the sea- 
 port towns on the coasts of Dorset, Devon, and Somersetshire, 
 whence it proceeded to Bristol. The people of Gloucestershire 
 immediately interdicted all intercourse with Bristol, but in vain. 
 The disease ran, or rather flew, over Gloucestershire. Thence 
 it spread to Oxford; and about the 1st of November, reached 
 London. Finally it spread itself all over England, scattering 
 every where such destruction, that, out of the whole population, 
 hardly one person in ten was left alive. 
 
 Incredible as this statement may appear, it seems borne out 
 by the details of contemporary annalists. In the churchyard 
 of Yarmouth, 7052 persons, who died of the plague, were 
 ouried in one year. ■ In the city of Norwich, 57,374 persons 
 died in six months, between the 1st of January and the 1st of 
 July. In the city of York, the mortality was equal. We find 
 no general statement of the total amount of the mortality in 
 London ; but there are details sufficient to show that it must 
 have been horrible beyond imagination. The dead were thrown 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. IS 
 
 into pits, forty, fifty, or sixty, into one ; and large fields were 
 employed as burial-places, the churchyards being insufficient 
 for the purpose. No attempt was made to perform this last 
 office with the usual care and decency. Deep and broad ditches 
 were made, in which the dead bodies were laid in rows, cover- 
 ed with earth, and surmounted with another layer of bodies, 
 which also was covered. Sir Walter Manny, (whose name is 
 so well known from his connection with the affecting incident 
 of the surrender of Calais to Edward III.,) benevolently pur- 
 chased and appropriated a burial-ground, near Smithfield, in 
 which single place more than fifty thousand people were buried. 
 Stow says that he had seen, on a stone cross in that burial- 
 ground, the following quaint inscription : " Anno Domini 
 MCCCXLIX. regnante magna pestilentia, consecratum fuit 
 hoc coemiterium ; in quo, et infra septa praBsentis monasterii. 
 sepulta fuerunt mortuorum corpora plusquam LM. praeter alia 
 multa abhinc usque ad proesens. Quorum animabus propitie- 
 tur Deus. Amen."* 
 
 This pestilence gave occasion to some diplomatic intercourse 
 between England and France, which is strikingly characteris- 
 tic of the manners of the age. While the mortality was raging 
 in those countries, Pope Clement VI. never ceased importuning 
 the monarchs of both to put an end to their mutual hostility, 
 and, by doing so, to avoid the continuance of a calamity sent 
 by Heaven to punish the sins of mankind. Edward and Philip 
 were induced by these pious exhortations to appoint commis- 
 sioners, who met between Calais and St. Omers, to negotiate a 
 treaty. The French insisted on the restoration of Calais, or 
 the razing of its fortifications ; a proposition which the Eng- 
 lish would not listen to. At last, however, a truce was agreed 
 upon for six months, till September following, in order to allow 
 time to negotiate for a peace ; and it was further agreed, that 
 if, at the end of the truce, a final treaty was not concluded, the 
 crown of France was to be brought to a convenient place with- 
 in that realm, and the right to it decided by a pitched battle, 
 without further appeal. The death of the French king, how- 
 ever, which happened in August, 1350, before the expiration 
 of the truce, put an end to this smooth and amicable plan of 
 accommodation. 
 
 The mortality fell chiefly upon the lower classes of society, 
 
 * A. D. 1349, during the prevalence of a great pestilence, this cemetery was 
 consecrated; in which, and within the enclosure of the present monastery, 
 »nore than 50,000 bodies were interred, besides many more from that time to 
 he present To whose souls God be propitious. Amen. 
 
14 HISTORICAL CAUINi'.T. 
 
 «ad among chem, principally on old men, women, and children 
 It was remarked, that not one king or prince of any nation 
 died of the plague; and of the English nobility and people of 
 distinction, very few were cut off' by it. Among the higher 
 orders of the church the deaths were rare ; but such havoc 
 was made among the inferior clergy, that numbers of churches 
 were left wholly void, and without any one to perform Divine 
 service, or any offices of religion. At the same time, all suits 
 and proceedings in the courts of justice ceased; and the sitting 
 of parliament was intermitted for more than two years. 
 
 This terrible visitation was every where attended by a total 
 dissolution of the bonds of society. An excellent old writer* 
 gives the following eloquent description of the state of Eng- 
 land: — " We are told, the influence of this disease was so con- 
 tagious, that it not only infected by a touch or breathing, but 
 transfused its malignity into the very beams of light, and dart- 
 ed death from the eyes ; and the very seats and garments of 
 such proved fatal. Wherefore parents forsook their children, 
 and wives their husbands ; nor would physicians here make 
 their visits, for neither were they able to do good to others, and 
 they were almost certain thereby to destroy themselves. Even 
 the priests also, for the same horrid consideration, forbore either 
 to administer the sacraments or absolve the dying penitent. But 
 yet neither priests, nor physicians, nor any other who sought 
 thus to escape, did find their caution of any advantage : for 
 death not only raged without doors as well as in chambers, but, 
 as if it took indignation that any mortal should think to fly 
 from it, these kind of people died both more speedily and pro- 
 pornonably in greater numbers. Then was their death with- 
 out sorrow, affinity without friendship, willful penance and 
 dearth without scarcity, and flying without refuge or succor. 
 For many fled from place to place because of the pestilence ; 
 some into deserts and places not inhabited, either in hope or 
 despair. But quick-sighted destruction found them out, and 
 nimble-footed misery was ever ready to attend them. Others, 
 having hired boats or other vessels, into which they laid up 
 provision, thought, or at least hoped, so to elude the power of 
 the infection ; but the destroying angel, like that in the Reve- 
 lations, had one foot upon the waters as well as on the land : 
 for, alas ! the very air they breathed being tainted, they drew 
 in death together with life itself. The horror of these things 
 made others to lock themselves up in their houses, gardens, 
 
 * History of Edward III., by Joshua Barnes, B. D., Cantab. 1G88. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET 15 
 
 and sweet retired places ; but the evil they intended to exclude, 
 pursued them through all their defenses, and they had this 
 only difference, to die without the company of any that might 
 serve or pity them. No physician could tell the cause, or pre- 
 scribe a cure ; and even what was saving to one was no less 
 than fatal to another. No astrologer could divine how or when 
 it would cease ; the only way left was to be prepared to receive 
 it. and the most comfortable resolution to expect it without fear." 
 
 The pestilence extended into Wales, where it raged violent- 
 ly ; and soon afterwards, passing into Ireland, it made great 
 havoc among the English settled in that island. But it was 
 xemarked that the native Irish were little affected, particularly 
 those that dwelt in hilly districts. 
 
 As to the Scots, they are said to have brought the malady 
 upon themselves. Taking advantage of the defenseless state 
 of England, they made a hostile irruption, with a large force, 
 into the country. But they had not proceeded far, when the 
 calamity which they courted, and so well deserved from their 
 ungenerous conduct, overtook them. They perished in thou- 
 sands ; and, in attempting to return home, they were overtaken, 
 before they could reach the border, by a strong body of Eng- 
 lish, who routed them with great slaughter. The remnant 
 carried the disease into Scotland, where its ravages were soon 
 as destructive as in the southern parts of the island. " Scot- 
 land^ says the writer whom we have already quoted, " partook 
 of the universal contagion in as high a degree, and in the same 
 manner, as other countries had done before ; only in this there was 
 a difference, that whereas other nations sat still and waited for 
 it, the Scots did seem ambitious to fetch it in among themselves." 
 However much Scotland may have had to complain of the op- 
 pression and tyranny of England under the Edwards, it was 
 ungenerous and unworthy of a brave people to attempt to re- 
 taliate on a nation laid prostrate by the hand of Heaven. At 
 ihe same time, there is no reason to doubt that the general 
 cause, whatever it was, of the pestilence, would at any rate 
 have soon extended to Scotland, as well as Wales and Ireland. 
 
 Early in the year 1349, the plague began to abate in Eng- 
 land ; and by the month of August it had entirely disappeared 
 Its consequences, however, continued for some time to be se- 
 verely felt. During the prevalence of the disease, the cattle, 
 for want of men to tend them, were allowed to wander about 
 the fields at random, and perished in such numbers as to occa- 
 sion a great scarcity. Though the fields, too, were covered 
 with a plentiful crop of corn, much of it was lost for want of 
 
.6 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 hands to reap it and gather it in. The scarcity of hands iiutu 
 rally produced excessively high wages. A reaper was not tc 
 be had under eight-pence per day, nor a mower under twelve- 
 pence, besides victuals ; and every other sort of labor was paid 
 in proportion.* This gave occasion to the act of the 25th of 
 Edward III., known by the name of the Statute of Laborers ; 
 which, on account of " the insolence of servants, who endea- 
 vored to raise their wages upon their masters," ordained that 
 they should be contented with the same wages and liveries 
 which they had been accustomed to receive in the 20th year 
 of the king. In spite of this statute, high wages continued to 
 be given by people, who preferred doing so to losing their grain 
 and other fruits of the earth, till Edward enforced obedience to 
 it by severe measures both against masters and laborers. The 
 enforcement of this statute is said by old writers to have pre 
 vented a famine from raging in England, similar to the one 
 which afflicted the other countries that had undergone the visi- 
 tations of the pestilence. How far it could have produced so 
 sanitary an effect, however, may well be questioned. 
 
 X^he last dregs of this calamity were drained by that unfor- 
 tunate race, the Jews. A belief spread over several countries 
 that they had produced the pestilence by poisoning the wells 
 and fountains ; and, in many places, they were massacred in 
 thousands by the infuriated populace. In several parts of Ger- 
 many, where this persecution chiefly raged, the Jews were lit- 
 erally exterminated. Twelve thousand of them were murder- 
 ed in th» single city of Mentz ; and multitudes of them, in the 
 extremity of their despair, shut themselves up in their houses, 
 and consumed themselves, and their families and property, with 
 fire. The extent of such atrocities, in a barbarous age, may 
 well be imagined, when we remember the outrages which were 
 produced by the cholera panic, only a few months ago, in some 
 parts of the continent. 
 
 Though the pestilence ceased in England in 1349, yet the 
 destroying angel continued his progress through other regions 
 for several ye L .rs longer, marks of his presence remaining on 
 record down to the year 1362. The world has suffered no 
 similar visitation since; nor does its older history afford any 
 
 *In the time of Edward III., ten-pence untamed half an ounce of silver, 
 and was, consequently, equal to half-a-crown of our present money. Tha 
 above wages, therefore, were equivalent to two shillings and three pence 
 of our money. At that time the quarter of wheat was at six shillings and 
 eight-pence, or twenty shillings of modern money. — Wealth of Nations. 
 Book I. chap. 11. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 1? 
 
 instance of a calamity of the same kind, equally extensive and 
 destructive. Even the pestilence, so eloquently described by 
 Gibbon, which ravaged a great part of the Roman empire, 
 seems to have been inferior in magnitude ; and the famous 
 plague of Athens was confined within a still narrower com- 
 pass. In almost every other memorable instance of the plague, 
 it has been limited to a particular district, or even a particular 
 city. 
 
 JOAN OF ARC, THE MAID OF ORLEANS. 
 
 " My courage try by combat, if thou dar'st, 
 And thou shalt find that I exceed my sex : 
 Resolve on this : thou shalt be fortunate 
 If thou receive me for thy warlike mate." 
 
 Shakspeare, Henry VI. 
 
 Among the extraordinary events which are recorded in 
 History, few can equal those that respect Joan of Arc, who was 
 the immediate cause of that astonishing revolution in the affairs 
 of France, which terminated in the establishment of Charles 
 VII. on the throne of his ancestors, and the final expulsion ot 
 the English from that kingdom. At the time this heroine first 
 made her appearance, so low was the power of the Dauphin, 
 that not a single place belonged to him but the town of Orleans 
 alone, which was then closely besieged by the English ; nor 
 did there appear the slightest probability that he ever could 
 procure an army strong enough to raise the siege of that city, 
 on which alone his all depended. 
 
 Joan of Arc was born at Dauremy, a village near Van- 
 couleurs, in Lorraine, about the year 1412. Her father was a 
 peasant, and gave her an education suited to his rank in life. 
 She left her parents at an early age, and became servant at an 
 inn, where she acquired a complete knowledge of horseman- 
 ship. It was here, too, that she first thought of her mission ; 
 and it arose from all the news she had heard of the affairs in 
 France at the inn. Her imagination took fire ; and she looked 
 jpon herself as a girl destined by heaven to rescue France out 
 of the hands of the English. 
 
 After much % difficulty, and application to various individuals, 
 
 she at length got access to the king, beiore whom she appeared 
 
 dressed as a warrior. The king heard her with patience, and 
 
 then sent her to his parliament at Poictiers, where she was 
 
 2 2* 
 
18 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 closely examined by many doctors in theology. At length 
 they determined to advise his majesty to put confidence in her 
 and attempt to execute Avhat she proposed. She now completeo 
 her equipments, appointed Jean Dolon, as famous for his 
 courage as his prudence, her squire, and Louis de Comptes hei 
 page. She then asked for a sword which had been more than 
 a century in the tomb of a knight, behind the altar of St. 
 Catharine, at Feirbois. She pretended to have had a know- 
 ledge of it by revelation, and that it was only with this fatal 
 sword she would extirpate the English. She ordered a banner 
 to be made for her, on which was represented God coming out 
 of a cloud, holding a globe in his hand ; it was ornamented 
 with fleur-de-lis. Her helmet was surmounted with a plume 
 of white feathers ; her horse was also white, and she surpassed 
 all by her beauty, and the skill and address with which she 
 managed him. 
 
 On the 29th of April, 1429, Joan of Arc appeared before 
 Orleans with twelve thousand men. She wrote a letter to the 
 Duke of Bedford, then Regent of France, warning him to give 
 up France to its rightful heir ; but the English were so en- 
 raged at seeing a girl sent to fight them, that they put the 
 heralds in prison. The Count de Dunois, who commanded in 
 Orleans, made a sally with all his garrison, in order to facilitate 
 the entry of provisions ; and the French, persuaded that this 
 heroine was sent from heaven to their assistance, resumed fresh 
 courage, and fought with so much vigor, that she and her con- 
 voy entered the town. 
 
 The English sent back one of the heralds, of whom she 
 demanded, " What says Talbot?" (Sir John Talbot,) and when 
 he informed her, that he, as well as all his countrymen, spared 
 no abuse in speaking of her, and declared, if they caught her, 
 they would burn her. " Go back again," says she, " and doubt 
 not but thou wilt bring back with thee thy companion ; and teli 
 Talbot, that if he will arm himself, I will do the same, and let 
 him come before the walls of the town, and if he can take me 
 he may burn me ; and if I discomfit him, let him raise the 
 siege, and return unto his own native country. 
 
 Soon after her arrival at Orleans, she made an attack on 
 Fort St. Soup, which she carried sword in hand, as well as the 
 bulwarks of St. John, and of the Augustins. In one of the 
 assaults of the English, she received a dangerous wound in the 
 neck, and as a large quantity of blood issued from it, her fol- 
 lowers began to fear for her life ; but she, to reanimate them, 
 •said, " It was not blood, but glory, that flowed from her wound.' 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 19 
 
 The siege of Orleans was raised the Sth of May. Joan of 
 Arc carried the news to the king, and entreated him to come 
 and be crowned at Rheims, then in possession of the English. 
 The siege of Gergeau was next undertaken ; when, after lying 
 eight days before the town, which was -.most vigorously de- 
 fended, Joan of Arc went into the ditch with her standard in 
 her hand, at that part where the English made the most vigor- 
 ous defence : she was perceived, and a hwivy stone thrown upon 
 her, which bent her to the ground ; notwithstanding which, she 
 got up, and cried aloud to her companions, " Frenchmen, mount 
 boldly, and enter the town ; you w r ill find no longer any resist- 
 ance." Thus was the town won. 
 
 She next took possession of Auxerre, Troyes, and Chalons, 
 thus opening for the king the road to Rheims, which city 
 flung open its gates as soon as he appeared before it ; and the 
 next day, the 17th of July, he was crowned. The Maid of 
 Orleans assisted at the ceremony in her armor, with her stand- 
 ard in her hand. The judges interrogated her, " How she dared 
 to come to the coronation with her banner in her hand?" To 
 which she answered, " That it was but justice, that the banner 
 which had its share of the labor, should also share in the honor." 
 
 Joan of Arc, having accomplished the object of her mission, 
 raising the siege of Orleans, and crowning the king at Rheims, 
 wished to return to her parents ; but her presence inspired too 
 much confidence, and had been attended with too great success, 
 for this to be permitted. She, therefore, accompanied the king 
 to Crepi, to Senlis, and afterwards to Paris. Here she dis- 
 played her wonted courage, but received a severe wound. In 
 the siege of Compeigne, in 1430, she made a sally, at the head 
 of a hundred men, over the bridge, and twice repulsed the be- 
 siegers ; but seeing a very strong reinforcement coming against 
 her, she began her retreat ; and although it w T as late, and she 
 and her troops were surrounded, yet, after performing prodigies 
 of courage she disengaged her company, who fortunately re- 
 entered the town. The heroine remained at the rear, to faci- 
 litate their retreat, and when she wished to enter, the £ates 
 were shut : she immediately turned round to her enemies, and 
 charged them with a courage worthy of a better fate. She 
 seemed not to expect any assistance, and suspected some trea- 
 chery, for when she made the sally, she exclaimed, " I am be- 
 trayed!" During the time she was defending herself, he 
 horse stumbled, and she fell. This obliged her to surrender 
 herself to Lionel Vasture, of Vendome, who gave her up to 
 lohn, of Luxemburg. This nobleman, forgetting the respect a 
 
20 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 Brave man should show to courage, and regardless of the sex 
 of his captive, basely sold her to the English for ten thousand 
 livres. From the moment she was a prisoner, this heroine 
 was forgotten. The king made no attempts to redeem her; 
 and although at tfee time, he had many English prisoners of 
 the highest rank, he did not offer one of them in exchange for 
 her. This neglect of Joan of Arc, will be an eternal blot on 
 the memory of the ingrate Charles VII. 
 
 On Joan being made a prisoner, the English indulged in as 
 great rejoicing as if they had conquered the whole kingdom. 
 The Duke of Bedford thought it proper to disgrace her, in order 
 to reanimate the courage of bis countrymen ; and this heroine 
 was condemned at Rouen, by.Cauchon, bishop of Beauvais, 
 and five other French bishops, to be burnt alive, for magic and 
 heresy. During her confinement in prison, she leaped from 
 the top of the tower of Beaurevoir, in hopes of escape ; but she 
 was retaken, and her cruel sentence put in execution on the 
 24th of May, 1431. She was quite undaunted at the sight ot 
 the stake and scaffold, which she mounted as boldly as she had 
 formerly done the breach at an assault. 
 
 Thus perished this extraordinary girl, in the nineteenth year 
 of her age. Her execution was as disgraceful to the English, 
 as the cold neglect with which she was treated in her misfor- 
 tunes was to the French monarch. 
 
 DISCOVERY OF THE PACIFIC, BY BALBOA. 
 
 Columbus had first seen land in the new world on the 12th 
 of October 1492, when he landed on the island of Guanahani, 
 after a voyage of little more than two months, he having sailed 
 from the port of Palos, in Spain, on the 3d of August. _ It was 
 six years later, when he surveyed the coast of the continent by 
 Paria and Cumana. With the nobler mind of Columbus, tei 
 ritory was the grand object, and colonization the means. With 
 the fierce and narrow spirit of the times, gold was the object, 
 and the sword the means. But the natives of the islands first 
 discovered were found poor ; their gold was chiefly confined to 
 the ornaments of their persons. The Spaniards who landed on 
 .he continent were equally disappointed. They saw before them 
 a magnificent country, yet nearly in a state of nature, vast for- 
 ests, mighty rivers,' ranges of mountains ; all the features of a 
 
Death of Joan of Arc, or Maid of Orleans.— Page 20. 
 
 Balboa discovering the Pacific Ocean.— rage 24. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. . 21 
 
 dominion wide enough for the widest ambition cf conquest, ov 
 the richest enjoyment of iife; but no treasure. Still theii 
 avarice was kept in a perpetual fever by the Indian stories of 
 gold in profusion, farther to the west, and beyond a sea which 
 stretched to the extremities of the globe. Yet all the various 
 expeditions which were sent to penetrate into these lands of 
 opulence, were defeated, and the chief part of the adventurers 
 perished by the diseases of the climate, by the inclemency of 
 seasons, alternately the most tremendous storms and the fiercest 
 sunshine, or by the perils of the seas, which to this hour se- 
 verely try the skill of the seamen. But the " empires of the 
 west" were still the cry of the Indians, and fresh troops of 
 daring adventurers hurried forward year by year, to throw 
 away their lives on the swamps and shoals of the New World. 
 Time, however, produced experience, and the vigor of disco- 
 very was gradually turned to the means of reaching those 
 golden regions by sea. The Indians persevered in the report, 
 that the nearest access to this great highway to the treasures 
 of America was across the mountain range of Darien, and at 
 length a Spaniard was found bold enough to attempt once more, 
 and fortunate enough to achieve, a task which had baffled so 
 many of his intrepid countrymen, and which was destined to 
 give a well deserved immortality to his name. Vasco Nunez 
 de Balboa was born at Xeres de los Caballeros. His family 
 was of the order of Spanish gentry. He commenced his ca- 
 reer, at an early age, in that mingled character of trader and 
 soldier which characterized all the first voyagers to America. 
 After some experiments in the general pursuit of wealth, which 
 failed, he settled in Hispaniola, where he cultivated a farm. 
 But Balboa was not of the order of spirits who are content 
 with the quiet indulgence of life. A new expedition was an- 
 nounced for the west. He determined to follow it. But he 
 was loaded with debt, and the governor had published an ox 
 press ordinance that no debtor should be suffered to leave the 
 island. Balboa was rolled on board one of the brigantines in 
 a cask, and made his appearance on deck only when the ship 
 was far out at sea. The commander of the expedition was in- 
 dignant, and threatened to send hirn back ; but Balboa, hand- 
 some and active, intelligent and plausible, was not a man to be 
 repelled, in the day when every Spaniard had his value, and he 
 soon rose into favor. A colony had been already established at 
 the celebrated Isthmus, on its eastern side. Balboa within a short 
 period became its governor, and there he distinguished him- 
 self b\ ill the talents of command. His position singularlj 
 
22 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 required them. Columbus had found the Islanders a timid 
 and innocent race, being in a state of primitive simplicity. But 
 the adventurers who had pierced the continent often found 
 themselves encountered by daring tribes, with some knowledge 
 of discipline, and sometimes capable of returning their losses 
 by bloody revenge. The tribes which surrounded the colony 
 of Darien were the most daring, disciplined, and vigorous, 
 which the Spaniards had ever met ; and nothing but incessant 
 vigilance, and the display of the most desperate intrepidity in 
 the field, could secure the invaders. 
 
 Indian rumors of the golden country continued to inflame 
 the Spaniards, and all hearts were at length stimulated to at- 
 tempt the conquest of a king, Dabaibe, who was said to be 
 living in a city filled with treasures, and who worshiped an 
 idol of solid gold. Distance, disease, mountains covered with 
 eternal snows, and oceans tossed by perpetual storms, could 
 not now restrain the adventurers ; and Balboa put himself at 
 the head of his countrymen, whose prize was to be the mea- 
 sureless plunder of this king and his temple. But the surround- 
 ing Caciques must be first conquered ; and their daring and 
 continued resistance cost long hostilities. Still, the Spaniards 
 advanced ; and even from their encounters with the natives, 
 they derived new stimulants for their frenzy of gold. An al- 
 liance with Comogre, a gallant mountain chieftain, at the head 
 of three thousand warriors, gave them additional confidence. 
 His son met the Spanish troops with a present of sixty slaves, 
 and four thousand pieces of gold. A picturesque incident now 
 occurred. Balboa, after deducting the fifth of the treasure for 
 the King, ordered the rest to be weighed and distributed among 
 the troops. Some dissatisfaction arose, and swords were drawn. 
 The young Indian looked on, first with astonishment, and then 
 with scorn. Advancing to the scales, with a contemptuous 
 smile, he threw them on the ground, exclaiming, " Is it for this 
 trifle that Spaniards quarrel ? If you care for gold, go seek it 
 where it grows. I can show you a land where you may ga- 
 ther it by handfuls." 
 
 This intelligence brought all the Spaniards round him, and 
 he proceeded to detail his knowledge. 
 
 iJ A Cacique, very rich in gold," said he, " lies to the south, 
 six suns ofT" He pointed in the direction. " There," said he, 
 " you will find the sea. But there you will find ships as large 
 as your own, with sails and oars." 
 
 If this announcement made the Spaniards pause, his next 
 must have kindled them into all their original flame. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 23 
 
 " The men of these lands," said he, " are so rich, that their 
 common eating and drinking vessels are of gold." 
 
 This was their first knowledge of Peru. 
 
 The time was now come, when the second great discovery 
 jf the Western World was to be made. Balboa, formally ap- 
 pointed governor of the Darien, determined to ascertain for 
 himself and the world the wonders that lay beyond the moun- 
 tains. He rapidly collected a hundred and ninety Spanish sol- 
 diers, a thousand Indians, and with some bloodhounds, which 
 were deemed a necessary part of an Indian enterprise, and 
 which sometimes proved a formidable one to the unfortunate 
 natives, he marched into the wilderness. 
 
 1 he Indian tribes were instantly roused ; and the Spaniards 
 had scarcely reached the foot of the Sierra, when they found 
 their warriors, headed by their Caciques, drawn up in a little 
 army. The Indians, like the ancient Greeks, first defied the 
 enemy by loud reproaches and expressions of scorn. They 
 then commenced the engagement. Torecha, their king, who, 
 if the Indians had found a bard or historian, might have been 
 a Hector or Leonidas, stood forth in front of his people, clothed 
 in a regal mantle, and gave the word of attack. The Indians 
 rushed on with shouts ; but the Spanish crossbows and mus- 
 kets were terrible weapons to their naked courage. The In- 
 dians were met by a shower of shafts and balls, which threw 
 them into confusion. They saw before them the bearers of 
 what to their conceptions were the thunder and lightning, fol- 
 lowed by a more certain and sweeping death than was inflicted 
 by those weapons of angry Heaven. Their heroic king, and 
 six hundred of their warriors, were soon left dead on the spot ; 
 and over their bodies Balboa marched to the plunder of their 
 city. 
 
 Balboa now commenced the ascent of the mountains. The 
 distance from sea to sea is, at its extreme width, but eighteen 
 leagues, and, at its narrowest, but seven. The distance to the 
 °acific from Careta, the commencement of their march, is but 
 six days' journey; but with them it cost twenty days. The 
 great mountain chain, which forms the spine of the New World 
 from north to south, composes the Isthmus ; and the march of 
 the Spaniards was impeded by all the difficulties of a mountain* 
 ous region, in a burning and unhealthy climate, and in a soil 
 overgrown with the wild and undisturbed vegetation of ages. 
 But the moment that was to repay, and more than repay, all 
 these fatigues, was at hand. Of all the strong and absorbing 
 pleasures of the human mind, there is none equal to the plea- 
 
£4 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 sure of new knowledge, Discovery, in whatever form of sci- 
 ence, fills the mind with something more nearly approaching 
 to an ecstasy, than any other delight of which our nature ia 
 capable. The sudden opening of those portals, which have 
 hitherto hopelessly excluded us from the peculiar knowledge 
 that we longed to possess — the vast region of inquiry, feeling, 
 fame, and truth, that often seems to be given for our especial 
 dominion by a single fortunate step — the new and brilliant light 
 that flashes over the whole spirit of man, in the sudden seizure 
 of one of those great principles which are the key to knowledge, 
 ■ — altogether make a combination of high and vivid impulses, 
 unrivaled in the history of human enjoyment. Philosophers 
 and kings might envy the feelings of Balboa, when, after toil- 
 ing through forests that seemed interminable, his Indian guides, 
 the Q,uarequonos, pointed out to him, among the misty summits 
 of the hills before him, the one from which the object of all 
 his toils, the Pacific was visible, Balboa proudly reserved the 
 honor of this magnificent discovery for himself. He command- 
 ed his troops to halt at the foot of the hill. He ascended alone, 
 with his sword drawn, like a conqueror taking possession of a 
 citadel von after some arduous siege, and, having reached the 
 summit, cast his eyes around. The Pacific spread out before 
 him. 
 
 The fierce religion of the Spaniards mingled in all the trans- 
 actions of the time, and they were superstitious in the midst of 
 massacre. But the view which now opened on the heroic 
 discoverer's eyes — the multitude of visions and aspirations of 
 grandeur, dominion, and honor, called up with that view — the 
 sight of those waves, which led to realms richer than all that 
 the Old World had dreamed of wealth, and teeming with 
 strange and splendid products of every kingdom of nature — 
 the waves, on whose borders lay Mexico and Peru almost at 
 his feet, on whose remoter shores lay China and Hindostan, 
 countries which nature and fable had alike delighted to fill with 
 wonders, the seat of mysteries, of wealth, religion, kingly state, 
 and fantastic, yet high-toned superstition — all justified the infhv 
 ence of a noble feeling, the gratitude of a heart astonished and 
 overwhelmed by his high fortunes. Balboa fell on his knees, 
 and weeping, offered his thanksgiving to Heaven, for the boun- 
 ty that had suffered him to see this glorious sight. His troops 
 had watched his ascent of the mountain with the eagerness of 
 men who felt their fates bound up in his success, but when they 
 saw his gestures of delight and wonder, followed by his falling 
 ~»n his knees, and prayer, they became incapable of all restraint , 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 25 
 
 they rushed up the hill, exultingly saw the matchless prospect 
 for themselves, and, sharing the spirit of their leader, offered 
 lip their thanksgivings along with him. Balboa's address to 
 the troops was worthy of his vigorous mind ; brief, bold, and 
 powerful, it touched upon all the true points of excitement, and 
 was the sounding of the trumpet to those victories which were 
 yet to transfer the wealth of Mexico and Peru into the hands 
 of Jiis country. 
 
 " Castilians," exclaimed he, " there lies the object of all your 
 desires, and the reward .of all your labors. There roll the 
 waves of that ocean of which you have so long heard, and 
 which inclose the incalculable wealth that has so long been 
 promised to you. You are the first who have reached these 
 shores, and looked upon these waves. Yours alone, then, are 
 the treasures, yours alone the glory of bringing these immense 
 and untraveled dominions under the authority of our king, and 
 to the light of our holy religion. Onward, then, and the world 
 will not see your equals in wealth and in glory." 
 
 This stately ceremonial was not yet at an end. A great tree 
 was cut down upon the spot, stripped of its branches, formed 
 into a cross, and fixed on the summit of the mountain, in sign 
 of the faith of Spain. 
 
 But the coast was still to be reached. Balboa fought a bat- 
 tle with the Indian chief who defended the lower passes of the 
 Cordillera, defeated him, and at last stood upon the shore of 
 the ocean. On the rising of the tide, the Spanish leader in 
 complete armor, with his unsheathed sword in one hand, and 
 a banner in the other, on which was painted the Virgin, with 
 the arms of Castile at her feet, marched into the surges, crying 
 out, " Long live the high and mighty sovereigns of Castile ! 
 In their names I take possession of these seas and regions ; 
 and if any other prince, whether Christian or Infidel, pretend 
 any right to them, I am ready and resolved to oppose him, and 
 assert the just claims of my sovereigns." 
 
 Balboa had still one brilliant moment of life to come, the re- 
 ception by his countrymen. On the 19th of January, 1514, he 
 reached his colony of Darien ; his expedition had occupied 
 four months and a half; his triumph was complete. The whole 
 population poured down to the shore to meet him, to hail him 
 as the honor of the Spanish name, as the author of their for- 
 tunes, as less a man than a gift of Heaven, to guide them into 
 the possession of glories and riches incalculable. All the titles 
 of Spanish admiration were lavished on the hero, and a popu- 
 lar homage, never more nobly employed, proclaimed him Con- 
 
 3 
 
26 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 que* or of the Mountains, Pacificator of the Isthmus, and Dis- 
 coverer of the Austral Ocean ; not, like other warriors of the 
 Old World or the New, the vanquisher of men, but the con- 
 queror of nature. 
 
 It is but justice to this celebrated man, to acknowledge that 
 he exhibited himself worthy of his splendid popularity. Suc- 
 cess only invigorated his high natural qualities; prosperity 
 never made him arrogant, power tyrannical, nor wealth ava- 
 ricious. He was singularly respected by his people, and be- 
 loved by the Indians, during his whole career. Long after its 
 close, it was said of him, that in conciliating the general es- 
 teem, " no captain of the Indies had ever done better than Vas- 
 co Nunez." 
 
 But the jealousy of the Court of Spain, at all times the most 
 incapable of governing by the generous qualities of power, 
 soon marked Balboa for its vengeance. His virtues and talents 
 were his accusers. His authority was now superseded by the 
 arrival of Pedrarias a man of singular craft and cruelty. 
 Whether his indignation at this insult was his crime, or the 
 determination of the Court to ruin him drove him into treason, 
 is still doubtful. But after a long train of angry remonstrances 
 on his side, and sullen artifice on that of the new governor, in 
 the course of which Pedrarias even gave him his daughter, 
 Balboa, with some of his principal friends, was beheaded " as 
 a traitor, and usurper of the dominions of the Crown." He 
 died at forty-two. His country, with the usual tardiness of 
 public gratitude, did him honor when it was too late, and Spain 
 has ever since reckoned him among the most memorable of 
 those memorable men who gave her a new world.* 
 
 PIZARRO, THE CONQUEROR OF PERU. 
 
 Francisco Pizarro was born of an unknown mother, and 
 his birth, the old birth of the founders of kingdoms, was, like 
 that of an ancient hero, adorned with romance. It was said 
 that he had been left exposed at the gate of a church in Trux- 
 illo, and in that state was found and suckled by a sow. His 
 first occupation was that of a swineherd ; but it is more certain 
 that his education was totally neglected. To his last hour he 
 
 * Blackwood's Magazine. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 27 
 
 could not write his own name ; he probably could not read. It 
 was said, too, as an extraordinary instance of the chance of 
 life, that his first idea of the Western World arose from his 
 %&t of returning to the owner of the swine which he tended, 
 some of them having strayed. He found four travelers on the 
 road, who were going to Seville, then the emporium of all Span- 
 ish discovery. He followed them, formed his resolution, em- 
 barked for St. Domingo, and commenced his sanguinary but 
 splendid career. 
 
 But Garcilosa, more jealous for the fame of his distinguish- 
 ed countryman, declares him to have been the son of Captain 
 Pizarro, by a known mother, though a dishonored one, Fran- 
 cisca Gonzales, a native of Truxillo. It is also affirmed that 
 he began his career in the Italian wars. Like many of the 
 famous men of Europe in his birth, he was unlike them in his 
 long obscurity. Pizarro, though involved in the most enter- 
 prising of all services, was unheard of till he was past thirty ; 
 when, in the last expedition of Ojedo to Terra Firma, he was 
 appointed to command as his lieutenant, in the colony of Uraba. 
 He was now at length emerging, for the trust implies known 
 fidelity and courage. Still, for fourteen years, he continued 
 active, acquiring experience, unconsciously fitting his mind for 
 his great achievement, but still subordinate. 
 
 After years of thankless service, he was suddenly roused 
 from his obscurity by the proposal of a " contract" for a voyage 
 of rd venture in the south. His partners were an ecclesiastic, 
 Hernando du Lucque, who supplied the money for the expedi- 
 tion, 20,000 ouzas of gold, and Diego de Almagro, a soldier 
 of remarkable spirit, sagacity, and daring. A few volunteers 
 were soon procured among the disbanded adventurers who still 
 lingered on the shores of Darien ; but their first attempts were 
 baffled by a succession of storms, which reduced them to the 
 extremities of famine. The Governor of Panama, moved by 
 the remonstrances of the sufferers, sent a vessel to the Island 
 of Gallo, to bring back all who were willing to return. 
 
 On this occasion Pizarro proved himself by one of those 
 striking acts which characterize the man made for great enter- 
 prises. He stood in front of the soldiers, already tumultuous 
 with the hope of escaping the horrors of their situation. 
 
 " Go !" he exclaimed, " to Panama, you who desire the labor, 
 the indigence, and the contempt, that will there be your portion. 
 I grieve that you should thus cast away the fruits of your strug- 
 gle, at the moment when the land, announced to us by the In- 
 dians of Tumbez, awaits your appearance, to load you with wealfb 
 
28 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 and glory. Go, then, but never say that your captain was not 
 the first to confront all your dangers and hardships, and was not 
 always watchful of your safety at the expense of his own." 
 
 This gallant appeal failed. The recollections of the island 
 were fearful. Pizarro saw that he was on the point of being 
 abandoned, and he made a last effort, at least to save himself 
 from being involved in the general shame. Unsheathing his 
 sword, he drew a line with it on the sand from east to west, and 
 pointing southward, exclaimed, " This way leads to Peru and 
 to gold — that to Panama and beggary. Let all good Castillians 
 make their choice." 
 
 With these words he strode across the line. Thirteen only 
 followed. There are few facts more striking in history, than 
 the simple means by which an imperishable fame may some- 
 times be obtained. The names of these thirteen obscure men 
 are recorded as those of heroes ; to this hour they share the 
 homage of their country. 
 
 At the close of a year spent in desperate effort, in unparal- 
 leled hardship, and continued anxieties from the restless and 
 disaffected spirit of his crews, Pizarro returned to Panama as 
 poor as at the commencement of his voyage, but with all the 
 merit due to skill and courage, and with the incomparable hope 
 of having at length achieved the discovery of the true land of 
 the precious metals, Peru. 
 
 On Pizarro' s return along the coast towards Panama, he had 
 been received with signal hospitality by the Indians of a tribe 
 bordering on the ocean. Their queen, Capillani, welcomed 
 Pizarro, the chieftain, and his companions, with delight and 
 wonder; and, as it was his policy to avoid offense for the 
 time, he repaid their courtesy with all the resources of Euro- 
 pean gratitude. But the scene maddened one of his warriors, 
 Pedro Alcon, a man of some personal attractions, which he 
 cultivated with a care that had often excited the ridicule of his 
 fellow adventurers. On his landing, he instantly fell in love 
 with the Indian queen, by whom he imagined that his passion 
 was returned. To leave a queen to despair was forbidden by 
 all the laws of gallantry, and Pedro Alcon demanded that he 
 should be suffered to take up his residence in her dominions. 
 Pizarro was inflexible, and the brain of the man of gallantry 
 instantly took fire ; but his flame was now changed from love 
 to ambition. He declared against all further obedience, flour- 
 ished round the shore with a broken sword, with which he 
 threatened to conquer his companions, and pronounced them 
 "villanous usurpers of the land which belonged to him and 
 
Pizarro " drew a line on the sand with his sword, exclaiming This way leads to 
 Peru and to gold— that way to Panama and heggary."— Page 28. 
 
 Assassination of Pizarro — Page 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 29 
 
 the king his brother." But his scepter was remorselessly 
 wrung from his hand ; his royal person was seized in all its 
 finery of velvet doublet, gold-net head-dress, and medalliard 
 eap ; he was fettered and placed under the deck. This judi- 
 cious treatment, which might have been advantageously tried 
 with many a candidate for empire, cured Alcon of both love 
 and glory. He returned with his companions to Panama, was 
 " viceroy over the king" no more, and the reign of Trinculo 
 was at an end. 
 
 Pizarro was now to re-enter the world on a statelier scale. 
 He sailed for Europe, armed with the rights and fame of a great 
 discoverer, the most resistless claim of the age to the respect 
 of kings and people. His demands were in proportion. He 
 required the government of the newly-discovered lands for him- 
 self, the Captaincy for his companion Almagro, and the Bish- 
 opric for his partner, Hernando Lucque. 
 
 His first reception in Spain was an ill-omen. He was ar- 
 rested at the suit of an individual, for a debt incurred by the 
 settlers of Darien ; but Pizarro had not sailed across the At- 
 lantic to perish in a Spanish prison. He applied to the govern- 
 ment, by whom he was released, and when free, he journeyed 
 direct to the presence of Charles the Fifth, at Toledo. There 
 was no sovereign of his day on whom fortune had so long, so 
 steadily and so munificently poured her favors. But this pe- 
 riod found Charles at the height of his prodigality. France 
 had just fallen before him at the battle of Pavia ; Italy was his 
 conquest, the French king his prisoner, the Pope his vassal ; 
 and he was on the point of receiving the imperial crown at 
 Bologna. At this moment Pizarro came, to confer on this 
 Master of Europe, and its iron strength, the supremacy of a 
 kingdom, almost its equal in size, and overflowing with the 
 richest produce that earth offers on its surface, or in its bosom. 
 Cortes and Pizarro, the brother-conquerors, had come to depo- 
 site at the foot of the throne the keys of Mexico and Peru. 
 Pizarro's handsome figure, bold countenance, and dignified 
 demeanor, won for him the universal admiration of a court 
 crowded with all that was noble, brave, or lovely, in Europe. 
 His address to the Emperor was full of the grave magnificence 
 that habit and nature have taught the Spaniard to feel beyond 
 all other men. Charles suffered his reserve to give way, and 
 the hero was named Pacificator of the new empire, without a 
 superior, and without an equal. 
 
 Pizarro, now at the fountain head of honors, determined to 
 slake his thirst to the full, if the ambition of such a man was 
 3 3* 
 
30 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 wealth ever to be satkiied. To obtain for himself the order of St 
 Jago, and a coat of arms which exhibited in a singular degree 
 his conception of his own high merits, he adopted the imperial 
 device of the Black Eagle grasping the two Pillars of Hercu- 
 les ; and as an emblem of his South American triumphs, the 
 city of Tumbez, walled and towered, with a lion and tiger at 
 its gates, and in the distance the sea on one side, with the rafts 
 of the country, and on the other the flocks and herds. Round 
 the blazon was the inscription — " Caroli Casaris auspicio et 
 labor e ingenio, ac impensa Ducis Pizarro, inventa, et pacaia." 
 This extraordinary stream of fortune, flowing in upon an ob- 
 scure individual may entirely excite our wonder. But there 
 was a moment of his triumph which may justly excite our 
 envy. In the interval of preparation for his return to Peru, 
 Pizarro made a visit to the place of his birth. His parents 
 were still living, and their gallant and fortunate son had the 
 rare delight of giving them honor in the sight of mankind. 
 He found his four brothers in Truxillo, offered them all ap- 
 pointments, and subsequently took them all with him to Peru, 
 in chase of wealth and honors like his own. 
 
 Still, thjse honors were for a conquest that existed only in 
 anticipation. And when Pizarro at last sailed from Panama, 
 he could muster for the conquest of one of the mightiest re- 
 gions of the globe, but three small ships and 183 men. 
 
 The empire which Pizarro now sailed to conquer, was the 
 most extensive, powerful, and civilized of the south ; extending 
 from north to south along the Pacific more than 2000 miles. 
 All the nations of Paganism begin their history by a fable, yet 
 the fable has some features of strong resemblance in them alL 
 A legislator, a soldier, or prophet suddenly appears, from some 
 unknown region, suddenly reconciles the people to civilization, 
 instructs them in the useful arts, furnishes them with a govern- 
 ment and laws, and then as suddenly takes wing, leaving the 
 world to wonder whence he came, or whither he goeth.- Manco 
 Capac and Mama Oello were thus the beneficent Genii of Peru. 
 They came from an unknown country. Manco taught the 
 people to till the ground, and Mama taught them to spin flax. 
 They founded the city of Cuzco. The tradition went further 
 that they built a temple to the Sun, established his worship, 
 and gave a code of laws. They transmitted the kingdom to a 
 line which pronounced themselves to be the pure blood of the 
 Sun, and preserved the purity of their blood by the extraordinary 
 precaution of marrying their own sisters, the offspring of those 
 ur.natural unions being alone eligible to the throne. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINLT. 31 
 
 In the course of four centuries from <he days of Manco Ca» 
 pac, the Peruvians counted twelve princes, who continued to 
 conquer the provinces adjoining to Cuzco, until Huayna Capac, 
 tbe prince contemporary with the arrival of the Spaniards in 
 .America, completed the empire by conquering Quito. The 
 empire now extended from Ghili to Quito, and the vigorous 
 administration of the Inca promised to civilize the rude tribes 
 which composed the chief population with great rapidity. His 
 reign was said to have been the means of establishing three 
 great features of civilization — a common language, a chain of 
 posts for the conveyance of the government orders through his 
 kingdom and high-roads, two great lines of communication 
 which reached from Cuzco to Quito, a distance of more than 
 1500 miles, passing over mountains, through marshes, across 
 deserts, and furnished at intervals with caravanseras large 
 enough to contain thousands of troops ; and so far was this 
 system of accommodation carried, that in some instances these 
 caravanseras were furnished with the means of repairing the 
 equipments and arms of the troops and travelers. 
 
 The long delay of the Spanish invasion was among the most 
 memorable instances of that fortune which gave the New World 
 into the hands of the Old. A few years earlier would have 
 found Peru under the government of a vigorous, sagacious, and 
 warlike king, by whom the adventurers might have been ex- 
 tinguished at a blow. But they came in at the time of a dis- 
 puted succession. The mighty empire of Peru was laid open 
 to them by a civil war. An inexperienced sovereign, a doubt- 
 ful title, and a divided allegiance, broke down the ehief bar- 
 riers against the foreign enemy, and Spanish arms, and Span- 
 ish thirst of gold, did the rest. 
 
 The history of the succession and the overthrow alike prove 
 that man is the same every where, and that the same causes 
 will produce the same disasters at the Line as at the Pole. 
 Huayna Capac, the conquering monarch, in whose reign the 
 empire had risen to its greatest height, left at his death the 
 scepter to Huascar, his son, by the Coya or empress ; and the 
 province of Quito to Atahualpa, an elder, but illegitimate son, 
 by the daughter of the chief Cacique of Quito. Atahualpa 
 raised the standard of rebellion in Quito, was overthrown, and 
 flung into chains. From these he got free, pretending that the 
 Sun, father of his fathers, had changed him into a lizard, and 
 ihus enabled him to escape. He now raised an army, marched 
 to Cuzco, and took Huascar prisoner. At this period the 
 usurper received the first intelligence of the approach of the 
 
$2 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 Spaniards, against whom he marched without delay. Pizarro, 
 after two months occupied in a march which, in later times, 
 has occupied scarcely more than a week, entered the Peruvian 
 city of Caxamalca, on the 15th of November, 1532. A formi- 
 dable vision now rose before him on the range of mountains ; 
 the army of the Inca lay encamped to bar his progress to Cuz- 
 co, and encamped with a regularity that told him he was at 
 last to encounter an army that might task all his powers. 
 
 But Pizarro had probably even now intended to trust to a 
 more effective weapon with a simple and generous people than 
 the sword. Establishing his quarters in the principal square 
 of the city, which, from its being surrounded with a high wall, 
 served as a citadel, into this fortress he formed the design of 
 alluring the Inca ; and the steps by which he proceeded are 
 well calculated to exhibit the remorseless craft and dexterous 
 audacity of this celebrated man. Sending two of his officers 
 with detachments of cavalry to bear his homage to the Inca, 
 Atahualpa came forth in his pomp to meet these warlike en- 
 voys. Seated on a throne of gold and jewels, he sent to de- 
 mand the purpose of their entering his country. They answer- 
 ed, that their captain, Don Francisco Pizarro, greatly desired 
 to be admitted to his presence, to give him an account of his rea- 
 sons for coming to Peru, and to entreat him to sup in the city 
 on that night, or dine with him on the following day. The Inca 
 replied, that it was then late, but that he would enter the city on 
 the following day ; — that he should enter with his army, a mea- 
 sure, however, which ought not to disconcert the Spaniards. 
 
 The day was a memorable one in the annals of the Incas. 
 Atahualpa, probably excited by a hazardous curiosity, proceed- 
 ed to the city at the head of 20,000 of his warriors, attended 
 by a multitude of women, as bearers of the luggage. The 
 person of the sovereign was a blaze of jewels. He was borne 
 on a litter plated with gold, overshadowed with plumes, and 
 carried on the shoulders of his chief nobles. On his forehead 
 was the Borla, the sacred tuft of scarlet, which he wore as the 
 descendant of the Sun. The whole moved to the sound of mu- 
 sic, with the solemnity of a religious procession. At this mo- 
 ment there was remaining a chance of averting the fall of the 
 empire. The slowness of the procession had brought it late 
 into the evening, and the Peruvians began to pitch their tents 
 in evident preparation for halting for the night. But Pizarro 
 had made preparations for treachery, which could scarcely fail 
 of being discovered by a multitude suffered to remain so close 
 to the spot He had placed musketry in ambush, planted his 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 33 
 
 cannon so as to command the gates, divided his cavalry into 
 squadrons, under his principal officers, for the attack; and, 
 forming a hody-guard of twenty shield-hearers, prepared to 
 capture, or destroy, his unhappy guest. Some of the Spanish 
 historians, solicitous for the honor of their country, argue, that 
 the Inca was only caught in his own snare, that his object was 
 to destroy the Spaniards, and that his request that the horses 
 and dogs might be tied up, was a proof that he contemplated 
 violence. But Spanish honor ought to be sustained on firmer 
 grounds. The Inca's request that these animals should be 
 kept out of sight, which most alarmed his people, and of course 
 most easily disposed them to retaliation, was a perfectly natural 
 one. His dismissal of three-fourths of his escort was a sign 
 of peace, when he might have brought his whole army with 
 him. His personal entrance within the walls was an obvious 
 risk, which he must have felt, and might have avoided by await- 
 ing Pi.sarro in his camp. And the true place for practicing 
 any violence against the Spaniards would as obviously have 
 been the open field ; for, defective as Peruvian warfare might 
 be, the Inca was a soldier, and must have known how much 
 more important numbers are in the open field, than in narrow 
 streets and among walls. The natural conclusion evidently is, 
 that the unfortunate Indian was stimulated to his ruin by his 
 curiosity ; that he put himself in hazard to see a race of men 
 who appeared to the Indian eye the most powerful, strange, 
 splendid, and exalted of mankind ; a race who, coming from 
 the rising sun, were the direct inheritors of his fire, his luster, 
 and his supremacy. 
 
 On the Inca's entering within the fatal gates from which he 
 was never to return, this curiosity was his chief emotion. For- 
 getting the habitual oriental gravity of the throne, he started 
 up and continued standing as he passed along, gazing with 
 marked eagerness at every surrounding object. Valverde, the 
 Dominican friar, now approached, bearing a cross and a Bible. 
 The friar commenced a harangue which must have been sin- 
 gularly repulsive to the native ear. He declared that the Pope 
 had given the Indies to Spain; that the Inca was bound to 
 obey ; that the book which he carried contained the only true 
 mode of worshiping Heaven ; and that the new governor of 
 Peru offered its Inca peace, unless he would see his country 
 the victim of war. 
 
 " Where am I to find your religion?" said the Inca 
 
 " In this book," said the priest. 
 
 The Inca declared that whatever might be the peaceful in* 
 
34 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 tentions of the Spaniards, " he well knew how they had acted 
 on the road, how they had treated his Caciques, and burned his 
 cottages." He then took the Bible, and turning over some of 
 the leaves, put it eagerly to his ear. 
 
 " This," said he, "has no tongue; it tells me nothing." 
 With these words he flung it contemptuously on the ground. 
 The friar exclaimed at the impiety, and called on his country- 
 men for revenge. The Inca soon felt the danger of his situa- 
 tion ; and turning, spoke some words to his people, which were 
 answered by murmurs of indignation and vengeance. At this 
 moment Pizarro gave the signal to the troops ; a general dis- 
 charge of cannon, musketry, and cross-bows, followed, and 
 smote down the unfortunate Peruvians. The cavalry were 
 next let loose, and they broke through the king's guard at the 
 first shock. The time was now come to consummate this 
 bloody treachery. While the Inca was in the first terror and 
 astonishment, Pizarro rushed forward at the head of his shield- 
 bearers, to seize him. He found the unfortunate sovereign 
 surrounded by a circle, singularly displaying the passive forti- 
 tude and devoted loyalty that characterize the Indian of the 
 East to this hour. They never moved, except to throw them- 
 selves upon the Spanish swords. They saw that their prince 
 was doomed ; and they unresistingly gave themselves up to 
 his fate. The circle rapidly thinned, and the Inca must have 
 perished by the happier death of combat. But Pizarro felt the 
 importance of such a prize in his hands, and determined to 
 seize him alive. Calling aloud to his soldiers to lift no hand 
 against the Inca, he forced his way to the litter, and grasping 
 Atahualpa's mantle, suddenly dragged him to the ground. The 
 Peruvians, seeing his fall in the midst of a crowd of Spanish 
 lances, conceived that he was slain ; and, by another similarity 
 to oriental customs, instantly gave up the battle. With the 
 supposed death of the sovereign, all struggle was at an end. 
 The only effort now was for flight. The multitude, in the 
 force of despair, burst through one of the walls, and fled over 
 the open country. Two thousand lay dead within the gates. 
 The surprise had been so complete, that not a single Spania rd 
 had fallen ; and but one was wounded, Pizarro himself, whose 
 hand had been struck by the lance of one of his own soldiers, 
 in the general rush to seize the person of the Inca. 
 
 The scene of triumph, plunder, and glittering anticipation 
 that followed, is unrivaled. The dreams of Spanish avarice 
 were now to be dreams no more. They had played a san- 
 guinary and most guilty game ; but they were now to enjoy 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 35 
 
 its gains, to a degree never enjoyed by man before. The cap- 
 tive prince, at length learning the true purpose for which the 
 invaders came, 'began to treat for his ransom. He offered to 
 cover the floor of the chamber, in which the Spaniards had as- 
 signed his quarters, with wedges of gold and silver ; but on 
 seeing that his jailors received the offer with the laugh of in- 
 credulity, which he construed into the laughter of contempt, 
 he started haughtily on his feet, and stretching his arm as high 
 as it could reach, told them that he could give them that cham- 
 ber full, to the mark which he then touched with his hand. It 
 is still remembered that this chamber was twenty-two feet long, 
 and sixteen wide, and that the point which he touched on the 
 wall was nine feet high. The offer implied a quantity of wealth 
 almost incalculable. Pizarro hesitated no longer, but instantly 
 despatched three of his soldiers with the Inca's messengers to 
 hasten the arrival of this unparalleled ransom. 
 
 The chief treasure of the land had been stored in the tem- 
 ples, and the prince's order had been directed to the priests, to 
 send it without delay to Caxamalca. The Spanish collectors 
 were received, through the long route of six hundred miles to" 
 Cuzco, with all but divine honors. And their own astonishment 
 was not less excited by the contrast of the noble and lovely coun- 
 try through which they now traveled, with the rude deserts and 
 inhospitable tribes on the borders of the empire. They were 
 compelled perpetually to admire the breadth and excellence of 
 the roads, the neatness of the cottages, the richness of the cultiva- 
 tion, and the magnitude, regularity, and wealth of the cities. All 
 these impressions must have derived a part of their force from 
 the memory of the rude parts of Spain, and of the desolate and 
 death-dealing regions through which the early adventurers had 
 toiled their way to the barriers of Mexico and Peru. But no- 
 thing can account for the recorded sustenance of the multitudes 
 of Peru, their wealth, their laws, their fabrics of cotton, and 
 even their attempts in science and literature, but the existence 
 of a wise and ancient frame of government, the recollections 
 of a civilized origin, and the intelligence of a sagacious, peace- 
 ful, and active public mind. 
 
 The profligacy of the Spanish messengers defeated their 
 mission. The Indians had no sooner discovered that their new 
 , gods were less than man, than they buried their treasures. The 
 ornaments of the temples were concealed by the priests, and 
 the messengers wer% eluded, until Pizarro was compelled to 
 send his brother Hernando, with twenty horse, to secure the 
 performance of the treaty. Even this resolute and keen plun- 
 
36 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 derer was comparatively baffled. But he brought back with 
 him twenty-six horse loads of gold, and a thousand pounds 
 weight of silver. Additional treasure was brought by some 
 of the captive Caciques and generals of the Inca, and Pizarro 
 at length proceeded to make the first division of this magnifi- 
 cent spoil. 
 
 After deducting the fifth for the king, the portion to each 
 horse-soldier was 9000 pesos (ounces) of gold, and 300 marcas 
 (eight ounces each) of silver. The share allotted to the com- 
 mander-in-chief amounted to 57,220 pesos of gold, and 2350 
 marcas of silver, besides the gold tablet from the litter of the 
 Inca, valued at 25,000 pesos. This was the full 1-:umph of 
 avarice ; the next crisis was to be the struggle of ambition ; a 
 fierce, fruitless, and gloomy struggle, which, after cheating 
 these daring men with gleams of success, and compelling them 
 to feel the whole misery of precarious power, laid them all in 
 succession in a bloody grave. The government of the empire 
 was next to be seized. Pizarro had hitherto practiced the dex- 
 terous policy of governing by a fallen king; but ambition 
 blinded him, and he resolved to seize the empire in his own 
 name. The Inca was charged with fomenting insurrection, 
 and by a foul blot upon even the blotted name of Spanish ho- 
 nor, he was put to death. His Caciques and nobles shared his 
 fate, or were scattered through the continent. A boy, the son 
 of the Inca, was substituted a puppet on the throne ; and Pi- 
 zarro, after a series of battles, in which the Peruvians proveq 
 at once their despair, their devotedness, and their inferiority ta 
 the Spanish discipline and arms, in the November of 1533 
 took possession of the royal city of Cuzco. 
 
 A new scene of riot and plunder ensued on this new triumph. 
 But the spoil of Cuzco was to be divided among 480 claimants. 
 Still, each individual received 4000 pesos ; enormous opulence ! 
 but the curse of guilty gain was upon it. The value of the 
 treasure, of course, rapidly diminished, with its accumulation. 
 It was soon given into the hands of the multitude who follow 
 in the skirts of an army to plunder the plunderers. The com- 
 mon necessaries of life became beyond the power of purchase ; 
 and the Spaniard was seen at once tottering under loads of gold, 
 and perishing for want of bread. 
 
 Avarice had noAv been banqueted on the most lavish feast 
 ever offered to the love of gold. Ambition, too, had been ban- 
 queted on a mighty empire. Personal h^nor, the third great 
 stimulant of minds capable of being influenced by the feelings 
 of the world, were now to be lavished on Pizarro and his asso- 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 37 
 
 ciates. Never were obscure men so long and magnificently 
 indulged by fortune. Hernando brought back for himself the 
 order of St. Jago, the title of Admiral, and a patent for raising 
 a new army ; for the Marshal Almagro, the government of a 
 territory of six hundred miles along the coast ; and for his 
 brother the title of Marquis, and an extension of sixty leagues 
 to his government, including the city of Cuzco. The friar, 
 Valverde, was appointed Bishop of Cuzco by the Pope. 
 
 Pizarro had now ascended the height from which all change 
 must be descent. He quickly felt the calamity of having no- 
 thing more to hope, and having every thing to fear. Sudden and 
 desperate dissensions broke out in the empire, which continued 
 to put him in peril, and hazard the extinction of his entire au- 
 thority, at a period when he longed only for rest. A still more 
 formidable peril arose from the indignation of his associate, 
 Almagro, a man of great sagacity and bravery, but an unequal 
 match for Pizarro in craft and self-command. Civil war com- 
 menced, and the Indians saw with delight the rival lances 
 couched, which were to avenge them on their tyrants. In the 
 decisive battle, in which Almagro, incapacitated by illness, gave 
 the command to Orgonez, the troops of Pizarro, commanded 
 by his brother Hernando, totally defeated those of the Marshal. 
 Almagro, unable to sit upon his horse, was the unhappy spec- 
 tator of the defeat from the side of the mountain, and flying to 
 the city of Cuzco, was taken prisoner, tried for treason, and 
 strangled in prison at the age of sixty-three. But there were 
 other spectators of this memorable engagement — the Indians, 
 who crowded the hills, as the two armies advanced against 
 each other, expressed their joy by wild gestures and shouts 
 which rent the air. And at the close of the battle, when the 
 field was left silent, and covered with the fallen Spaniards, they 
 poured down, like troops of wild beasts, to make havoc of the 
 corpses, and insult and mutilate the remnants of those whom 
 they knew only as murderers and oppressors. A still deeper 
 vengeance was at hand. Hernando Pizarro had been sent to 
 Europe with a new instalment of treasure for the king. But 
 the reports of the civil war had already reached the royal ear 
 —the ambition of his family probably sharpened the sense of 
 royal justice — and it became politic to coerce the most power- 
 ful and daring brother of a man, who might take the first ad- 
 vantage of his situation to place himself on the throne of Peru. 
 Hernando was ordered to stand his trial at the demand of Die- 
 go de Alvarado, the friend of the dead Almagro. His sentence 
 was that of imprisonment. He was removed from prison to 
 
 4 
 
tfS HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 prison, until at length he was placed in the castle of La Moto 
 de Medina, where he languished forgotten, till the year 1560. 
 Pizarro, now Marquis de las Caschaz, unmoved by the fate 
 of his brother, proceeded in a course of violence and haughti- 
 ness, which hourly increased the hostility of his enemies and 
 the disgust of his friends. Diego, the son of Almagro, was 
 growing into reputation, and his sword already longed to avenge 
 the blood of his father. A conspiracy was formed in Lima, 
 among the partisans of Almagro, and the discontented soldiers 
 of the governor. Pizarro was in vain warned of designs, 
 which soon became obvious to every eye but his own. The 
 conspirators, at noonday, rushed into his house, found him with 
 but two of his friends and two pages, and killed all who were 
 in the room. After a long struggle, Pizarro, who had been 
 brought to the ground by a thrust in the throat, and found him- 
 self dying, asked only for a confessor. His only answer was 
 a pitcher of water violently flung in his face. He fell back 
 and died, closing his famous career at the age of sixty-five — a 
 course of the most memorable fortune, sustained by the most 
 beroic daring, the most dexterous sagacity, and the most perse- 
 vering determination ; but degraded by the most unhesitating 
 fraud, and stained by the most remorseless cruelty. In the age 
 of Paganism, Pizarro would have been ranked among the im- 
 mortals as a hero. In the middle ages, he might have been 
 characterized as possessed by a fiend. In our more sober time, 
 we can only lament the perversion of noble powers, and still 
 nobler opportunities, the waste of genius and valor, in the ser- 
 vice of rapacity and crime.* 
 
 SUFFERINGS OF WILLIAM LITHGOW, BY THE INQUISITION. 
 
 William Lithgow, a native of Scotland, was urged by the 
 strongest inclination to traveh After having visited many parts 
 of Europe, he was arrested, in 1620, at Malaga, in Spain, and 
 thrown into prison, under the pretense of his being a spy. His 
 own account of his travels and sufferings was printed in Lon- 
 don, in 1640. The details, which bear every mark of truth, 
 (says the Retrospective Review,) are heart-rending, and fill us 
 with horror at the pitch of cruelty to which human nature 
 
 * Blackwood's Magazine. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 39 
 
 may be degraded, by ignorance and bad government. Lithgow 
 was accused of giving information to the English ships, res- 
 pecting the return of the Plate fleet, and was imprisoned in the 
 palace of the governor. 
 
 " The day following, the governour entred my prison alone, 
 intreating mee to confesse I was a spy, and hee would be my 
 friend, and procure my pardon, neither should I lacke (intirim) 
 any needeful thing ; but I still attesting my innocency, hee 
 wrathfully swore I should see his face no more, till grievious 
 torments should make me doe it, and leauing mee in a rage, 
 hee observed too well his condition. 
 
 " But withall in my audience, he commanded Aftta, that 
 none should come near mee, except the slave, nor no food should 
 be giuen mee, but three ounces of moosted browne bread, every 
 second day, and a fuleto or English pint of water, neither any 
 bed, pillow, or coverlet to be allowed mee : and close up, said 
 he, this window in his roome, with lime and stone, stop the holes 
 of the doore with double matts, hanging another locking to it ; 
 and to withdraw all visible and sensible comfort from him, let 
 no tongue nor feete be heard neare him, till I have my designes 
 accomplished : and thou, Hazior, I charge thee at thy incom- 
 mings to have no conference with him, nor at thy out goings 
 abroad to discover him to the English factors, as thou wilt an- 
 swer upon thy life, and the highest torments can be devised. 
 
 11 These directions delivered, and alas, too accessary to me 
 in the performance ; my roome was made a darke-drawn dun- 
 geon, my belly the anatomy of mercilesse hunger, my comfort- 
 lesse hearing, the receptacle of sounding bells, my eyes want- 
 ing light, a loathsome languishing in dispaire, and my ground 
 lying body, the woefull mirrour of misfortures, every houre 
 wishing anothers's comming, every day the night, and every 
 night the morning. 
 
 " And now being every second or third day attended with 
 the twinckling of an eye, and my sustenance agreeable to my 
 attendance, my body grew exceeding debile and infirme, inso- 
 much that the governour (after his answers received from Mad- 
 rile) made haste to put in execution his bloody and mercilesse 
 purpose before Christmas holy dayes, lest the expiring of the 
 twelfth day I should be utterly famished, and unable to under- 
 goe my tryall, without present perishing, yet unknowne to mee, 
 save onely in this knowledg, that I was confined to die a feare- 
 full and unacquainted death : for it is a current custome with 
 the Spaniard, that if a stranger be apprehended upon any sus- 
 Bition, he is never brought to open tryall, and common jailc. 
 
40 HISTORICAL C\Blx\ET. 
 
 but capped up in a dung-eon, and there tortured, impoisoned. or 
 starved to death. Such meritorious deeds accompany these 
 onely titular Christians. 
 
 " In end, by God's permission, the scourge of my fiery tryall 
 opproaching ; upon the forty-seventh day after my first impri- 
 sonment, and five dayes before Christmas, about two of clock 
 in the morning, I heard the noise of a coach in the fore streete, 
 marvelling much what it might meane. 
 
 " Within a pretty while I heard the locks of my prison-doore 
 in opening ; whereupon, bequeathing my soule to God, I hum- 
 bly implored his gracious mercie and pardon for my sinnes ; 
 for neither in the former night, nor this, could I get any sleep, 
 such was the force of gnawing hunger, and the portending 
 heavinesse of my presaging soule. 
 
 " Meanwhile the former nine sergeants, accompanied with 
 the scrivan, entered the room without word speaking, and car- 
 rying mee thence, with irons and all, on their armes through 
 the house to the street, they laid mee on my backe in the coach: 
 where two of them sat up beside me, (the rest using great 
 silence) went softly along by the coach side. 
 
 " Then Baptista the coachman, an Indian negro, droving out 
 at the sea gate, the way of the shoare side, I was brought west 
 ward almost a league from the towne, to a vine-presse house, 
 standing alone amongst vineyards, where they inclosed mee 
 in a roome till day-light, for hither was the racke brought the 
 night before, and privily placed in the end of a trance. 
 
 " And all this secresie was used, that neither English, French, 
 or Flemings, should see or get any knowledge of my tryall, 
 my grievous tortures, and dreadful dispatch, because of their 
 trecherous and cruel proceedings. 
 
 " At the breach of day, the governour, Don Francisco, and 
 the alcade, came forth in another coach: where when arrived, 
 and I invited to their presence, I pleaded for a trench-man, be- 
 ing against their law to accuse or condemne a stranger, with- 
 out a sufficient interpreter. The which they absolutely refused, 
 neither would they suffer or grant mee an appellation to Madrid. 
 
 " And now after long and new examinations, from morning 
 to darke night, they finding my first and second confession to 
 runne in one, that the governour swore, I had learned the art 
 of memory : sa}nng, further, is it possible hee can, in such dis- 
 tresse, and so long a time, observe so strictly, in every manner, 
 the points of his first confession, and I so often shifting him too 
 and fro. 
 
 " Well, the governour's interrogation and my confession b» 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 4i 
 
 ing mutually subscribed, he and Don Francisco besought mee 
 earnestly to acknowledg and confesse my guiltiness in time ; 
 if not, he would deliver mee in the alcade's hands there pres- 
 ent : saying, moreover, thou art as yet in my power, and 1 may 
 spare or pardon thee, providing thou wilt confesse thy&^is a 
 spie and a traytour against our nation. 
 
 " But finding mee stand fast to the marke of my spotlesse 
 mnocency, he, invective and malicious hee, after many tremen- 
 duous threatenings, commanded the scrivan to draw up a war- 
 rant for the chiefe justice ; and done, he set his hand to it, and 
 taking me by the hand, delivered me and the warrant in the 
 alcade major's hands, to cause mee to be tortured, broken, and 
 cruelly tormented. 
 
 " Whence being carried along on the sergeant's armes, to the 
 end of a trance or stone gallery, where the pottaro or racke 
 was placed, the encarnador, or tormentor, began to disburden 
 me of my irons, which being very hard inbolted, he could not 
 ram-verse the wedges for a lo*ig time: whereat the chief jus- 
 tice being offended, the malicious villaine, with the hammer 
 which hee had in his hand, stroake away above an inch of my 
 left heele with the bolt. Whereupon I grievously groaning, 
 being exceeding faint, and without my three ounces of bread, 
 and a little water for three dayes together : the alcade said, O 
 traitor, all this is nothing but the earnest of a greater bargaine 
 you have in hand. 
 
 " Now the irons being dissolved, and my torments approach- 
 ing, I fell prostrate on my knees, crying to the heavens, 
 
 " ' O great and gracious God, it is truely knowne to thy all- 
 seeing eye, that I am innocent of these false and fearfull accu- 
 sations, and since therefore, it is thy good will and pleasure, 
 that I must suffer, now by the scelerate hands of merciless men ; 
 Lord, furnish mee with courage, strength and patience, least by 
 an impatient minde, and feeble spirit, I become my own mur- 
 therer, in confessing myselfe guilty of deathe, to shun present 
 punishment. And according to the multitude of thy mercies, 
 O Lord, be mercifull to my sinfull soule, and that for Jesus thy 
 Sonne and my Redeemer his sake.' 
 
 " After this, the alcade and scrivan being both chaire-sct, the 
 one to examining, the other to write downe my confession and 
 tortures : I was by the executioner stripped to the skin, brought 
 to the racke ; and then mounted by him on the top of it : where 
 eftsoones I was hung by the pareshouldcrs, with two small 
 cords, which went under both my armes, running on two rings 
 of iron that were fixed in the wall above my head. 
 
 4* 
 
42 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 " Thus lacing hoysed, to the appointed height, the tormentoi 
 dis-cended Delow, and drawing downe my legs, through the two 
 sides of the three planked racke, hee tyed a cord about each 
 of my ankles : and then ascending upon the racke, hee drew 
 the cords upward, and bending forward with mainforce my two 
 kneels against the two planks ; the sinnews of my hams burst 
 asunder, and the lids of my knees being crushed, and the corda 
 made fast, I hung so demayned for a large houre. 
 
 " At last the encarnador, informing the governour that I had 
 the marke of Jerusalem on my right arme, joyned with the 
 name and crowne of King James, and done upon the holy 
 grave ; the coridigor came out of his adjoyning stance, and 
 gave direction to tear asunder the name and crowne (as he said) 
 of that heretike king, an arch-enemy to the holy Catholic 
 church : then the tormentor, laying the right arme above the 
 Jeft, and the crowne upmost, did cast a cord over both armes 
 seven distant times : and then lying downe upon his backe, and 
 setting both his feete on my hollow-pinched belly, he charged 
 and drew violently, with his hands, making my worn be sup- 
 port the force of his feet, till the seven several cords combined 
 in one place of my arme (and cutting the crowne, sinewes, 
 and flesh to the bare bones) did pull in my fingers close to the 
 palme of my hands ; the left hand of which is lame so still, 
 and will be for ever. 
 
 11 Now mine eyes began to startle, my mouth to foame and 
 froath, and my teeth to chatter like to the doubling of drum- 
 mers' stickes. O strange inhumanity of men, monster man- 
 glers! I surpassing the limits of their national lavr; three 
 score tortures being the tryall of treason, which I had and 
 was to endure : yet thus to inflict a seaven-fold surplussage of 
 more intollerable cruelties: and, notwithstanding of my shiver- 
 ing lips, in this fiery passion, my vehement groaning, and blood 
 springing fonts, from armes, broaken sinewes, hammes, and 
 knees ; yea, and my depending weight on flesh-cutting cords, 
 yet they stroake mee on the face with cudgels, to abate and 
 cease the thundring noise of my wrestling voice. 
 
 " At last, being loosed from these pinnacles of paine, I was 
 hand-fast set on the floore, with this their incessant imploration : 
 * Confesse, confesse, confesse, in nme, for thine inevitable tor- 
 ments ensue :' where finding nothing from me but still innocent, 
 O I am innocent, O Jesus ! the Lamb of God have mercy upon 
 mee, and strengthen mee with patience to undergo this barba- 
 rous murder. 
 
 4i Then by command of the justice, was my trembling body 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 43 
 
 laid above, and along upon the face of the racke, with my head 
 downeward, inclosed within a circled hole ; my belly upmost, 
 and my heeles upward toward the top of the racke, my legs 
 and armes being drawne assunder, were fastened with pinnes 
 and cords, to both sides of the outward planckes ; for now was I 
 to receive my maine torments. 
 
 " Now what a pottaro or racke is (for it stood by the wall 
 of timber,) the upmost end whereof is larger than a full stride; 
 the lower end being narrow, and the three planckes joyning to- 
 gether are made conformable to man's shoulders ; in the downe- 
 most end of the middle plancke there was a hole, wherein my 
 head was laid : in length it is longer than a man, being inter- 
 laced with small cords from plancke to plancke, which divided 
 my supported thighes from the middle plancke ; through the 
 sides of which exterior planckes there were three distant holes 
 in every one of them ; the use whereof you shall presently 
 heare: 
 
 " Now the alcade giving commission, the executioner layd 
 first a cord over the calfe of my leg, then another on the mid- 
 dle of my thigh, and the third cord over the great of my arme ; 
 which was severally done on both sides of my body receiving 
 the ends of the cords, from these sixe severall places through 
 the holes made in the outward planckes, which were fastened 
 to pinnes, and the pinnes made fast with a device : for he was 
 to charge on the outside of the planckes, with as many pinnes 
 as there were holes and cords ; the cords being first layd meet 
 to my skin : and on every one of these sixe parts of my body, 
 1 was to receive seven severall tortures : each torture consist- 
 ing of three winding throwes of every pinne ; which amount- 
 ed to twenty one throwes in every one of these five parts. 
 
 11 Then the tormentor having charged the first passage above 
 my body, (making fast by a device each torture as they were 
 multiplyed,) he went to an earthern jarre standing full of water, 
 a little beneath my head : from whence carrying a pot full of 
 water, in the bottome whereof there was an incised hole, which 
 being stopped by his thumb, till it came to my mouth, he did 
 poure it in my bellie ; the measure being a Spanish sombre, 
 which is an English pottle; the first and second services I 
 giadly received, such was the scorching drouth of my torment- 
 ing paine, and likewise, I had drunke none for three daies be- 
 fore. 
 
 " But afterward, at the third charge perceiving these mea- 
 sures of water to be inflicted upon me as tortures, O strangling 
 tortures 1 I closed my lips againe-standing that eager credulity. 
 
44 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 " Whereat the alcalde inraged, set my teeth assunder with a 
 payre of iron cadges detaining them there, at every severall 
 turne, both mainely and manually; whereupon my hunger 
 clungd belly waxing great, grew drum-like imbolstered ; for it 
 being a suffocating paine, in regard of my head hanging downe- 
 ward, and the water re-ingorging itselfe, in my throat, with a 
 stiugling force, it strangled and swallowed up my breath from 
 yc uling and groaning. 
 
 " And now to prevent my renewing griefe, (for presently my 
 "'Heart faileth and forsaketh me,) I will onely briefely avouch, 
 that betweene each one of these seven circular charges I was 
 aye re-examined, each examination continuing halfe an houre : 
 each halfe houre a hell of infernall paine ; and betweene each 
 torment, a long distance of life-quelling time. 
 
 " Thus lay I five houres upon the racke, betweene foure a 
 clocke afternoone, and ten a clocke at night, having had inflict- 
 ed upon mee sixtie severall torments : neverthelesse, they con- 
 tinued mee a large halfe houre (after all my torments) at the 
 full bending, where my body being all begored with blood, and 
 cut through in every part, to the crushed and bruised bones, I 
 pittifully remained, still roaring, howling, foaming, bellowing, 
 and gnashing my teeth, with insupportable cryes, before the 
 pinnes were undone, and my body loosed. 
 
 "True it is, it passeth the capacity of man, either sensibly 
 to conceive, or I patiently to express the intollerable anxiety of 
 mind, and affliction of body, in that dreadful! time I sustained. 
 
 " At last my head being by their armes advanced, and my 
 body taken from the racke, the water regushed abundantly from 
 my mouth ; then they recloathing my broken, bloody, and cold 
 trembling body being all this time starke naked, I fell twice in 
 a sounding trance : which they againe refreshed with a little 
 wine, and two warme eggs, not for charity done, but that I 
 should be reserved to further punishment ; and if it were not 
 too truly known those sufferings to be of trueth, it would almost 
 seem incredible to many, that a man being brought so low with 
 starving hunger, and extreme cruelties, could haue subsisted 
 any longer reserving life. 
 
 " And now at last they charged my broken legs, with my 
 former eye-frighting irons, and done, 1 was lamentably carried 
 on their armes to the coach, being after midnight, and secretly 
 transported to my former dungeon jfitbout any knowledge to 
 the towne, saue onely these my lawless and mercilesse tor- 
 mentors : where when come, I was laid with my head and my 
 heeles alike high, on my former stones. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 45 
 
 " The latter end of this woefull night, poor mourning Ha- 
 zier, the Turke, was set to keepe mee, and on the morrow 
 the governour entred my roome, threatning me still with more 
 tortures to confesse ; and so caused hee every morning long 
 before day, his coach to be rumbled at his gate, and about mee 
 where I lay a great noise of tongues, and opening of doores : 
 and all this they did of purpose to affright and distract mee, 
 and to make mee beleeve I was going to be racked againe, to 
 make mee confesse an untrueth ; and still thus they continued 
 every day of five dayes till Christmas. 
 
 " Upon Christmas daye, Mariana, the ladie's gentlewoman, 
 got permission to visit mee, and with her licence shee brought 
 abundance of teares, presenting mee also with a dish of honey 
 and sugar, some confections and reasons in a great plenty to 
 my no small comfort, besides using many sweet speeches for 
 consolation's sake. 
 
 " Shee gone, and the next morning of St. Iohn's day come, 
 long ere day the towne was in armes, the bells ringing back- 
 ward, the people shouting, and drums beate, whereon my soul 
 was ouerjoyed, thinking that the Moores had seazed upon all: 
 and in the afternoone the Turke comming to mee with bread 
 and water, being by chance the second day, I asked him what 
 the fray was 1 who reply' d be of good courage, I hope in God 
 and Mahomet, that you and I ere long shall be set at liberty, 
 for your countreymen, the English armado, and mine the 
 Moores, are joyned together, and comming to sack Malaga : 
 And this morning post came from Allagant to premonish the 
 governour thereof; whereupon he and the towne have instant- 
 ly pulled downe all the coppet shops, and dwelling houses that 
 were builded without the shore side adjoyning to the townes 
 wall : but yet said hee, it is no matter, the towne may easily be 
 surprised, and I hope wee shall be merry in Algier, for there 
 is above a hundred sayle seene comming hither ; and therewith 
 kissing my cheeke, he kindly left mee. 
 
 " Indeed, as for such news from Allagant ; the detriment of 
 twenty-eight houses, the shoar-planted cannon, the suspition 
 they had of the English, and the towne foure dayes in armes, 
 were all true, save onely the confederacy of the English with 
 the Moores, that was false. ••' 
 
 " Witnesse Sir Richard Halkins, and the captaines of his 
 squader, who a little after Christmas comming to the road, went 
 to the governour to clearejiiimselfe, and the fleet of that absurd 
 imputation laid to their charge. The twelfth day of Christmas 
 expired, they began to threaten mee on still more tortures, even 
 
 har^e. 
 reatjn 
 
46 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 till Candlemasse : in all which comfortlesse time, I was miser- 
 ably afflicted with the beastly plague of gnawing vermin, whic& 
 lay crawling in lumps, Avithin, without, and about my body: 
 yea, hanging in clusters about my beard, my lips, my nostrils, 
 and my eyebrows, almost inclosing my sight. 
 
 " And for a greater satisfaction to their mercilesse mindes 
 the governour oaused Areta, his silver plate keeper, to gathei 
 and sweep the vermine upon me twice in eight dayes, which 
 tormented me to the death, being a perpetual punishment ; foi 
 mine armes being broke, my fingers lucken, and sticking fast 
 to the palms of both hands by reason of the shrunk sinewes, 1 
 was unable to lift mine armes, to stirre my fingers : much less 
 to avoid the filthy vermine : neither could my legs and feet 
 performe it, being impotent in all. Yet I acknowledge the 
 poore infidell, some few times, and when opportunity served, 
 would steale the keys from Areta, and about midnight would 
 enter my room, with sticks and burning oyle, and sweeping 
 them together in heapes, would burn the greatest part, to my 
 great release ; or doubtlesse I had beene miserable eat up, and 
 devoured by them. 
 
 " And now some eight dayes before Candlemasse, the slave 
 informed mee, that an English seminary priest, born in London, 
 and belonging to the Bishops Colledge of Malaga; and a 
 Scotish Cowper named Alexander Lay, borne in Dunbar, and 
 there married, were in translating all my bookes and observa- 
 tions out of English, in the Spanish tongue, bringing every 
 other dayes numbers of wrot papers to the governour, and for 
 their paines had thirty ducats allowed, and that they were say- 
 ing, I was an arch-hereticke to the pope, and the Virgin Mary. 
 
 " Having re-dounded him concealed thanks, I was assured 
 of their bloody inquisition, preparing myselfe in God, with 
 faith, and patience to receive and gain-stand it ; for my spiritual 
 resolution was surely founded; being sightless of company, 
 and humane faces, I had intirely the light of my soule celebrate 
 to God Almighty. 
 
 " And hereupon the second day after Candlemasse, the gov- 
 ernour, the inquisitor, a canonicall priest, entered my dungeon 
 accompanied with two Jesuites, one of which was predicator, 
 and superior of the Tiatinean colledg of Malaga: where being 
 chaire set, candle lighted, and doore locked; the inquisitor, 
 after diverse frivolous questions, demanded mee if I was a Ro- 
 man Catholik, and acknowledged tdae pope's supremacy. To 
 whom I answered, I was neither the one, or did the other. And 
 what power (said I) have you to challenge mee of my religion, 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 47 
 
 since it is a chiefe article, of the former concluded peace, that 
 rone of our king's subjects should be troubled by your inquisi- 
 tion ; but as you have murdred mee for alledged treason, so 
 you rneane to martyr mee for religion. 
 
 " And you governour, as you have tortured and hunger- 
 starved this helplesse body, consumed with cold and vermine 
 to the last of my life ; the Almighty God who revealeth the 
 secrets of all things (although I be never relieved) will cer- 
 tainly discover it to my countrey and to the world. And is 
 this the best of your good deeds you repay to our mercifull 
 king, who then being onely king of Scotland, in the time of 
 your just over-throw of eighty-eight, gave secourse to thousands 
 of your ship-wracked people for many moneths ; and in the 
 end caused transport them safely to their desired ports. Leaving 
 to the world's memory an eternall stampe of Christian bounty, 
 mercy, and royal charitie : and your acquittance to him, is an 
 imputation of treachery to his fleete, detaining and mis-regard- 
 ing his letters and seales, and now imposing to a tormented in- 
 nocent, your lawlesse inquisition. 
 
 " To which the governour answered, all that was true, but 
 it was done more through feare than love, and therefore de- 
 served the lesser thankes ; but (intrim) wee will follow the ut- 
 termost of our ends. And the Jesuite predicator, to confirme 
 his words, said there was no faith to bee kept with heretickes, 
 which directly, or indirectly, is the sublime policy of conquer- 
 ors, which our mighty and innumerable nation evermore taketh 
 notice" of and observeth. 
 
 " Then the inquisitor arising, expressed himselfe thus : ' Be- 
 hold the powerfull majesty of God's mother, commander of her 
 Sonne, equal 1 to the Father, wife of the Holy Ghost, Quenne 
 of Heaven, protector of angels, and sole gubernatrix of the 
 earth, <fec. How thou being first taken as a spye, accused for 
 treachery, and innocently tortured, (as we acknowledge we 
 were better informed lately from Medrile of the English in- 
 tention,) yet it was her power, her Divine power, which brought 
 these judgments upon thee, in that thou hast wrote calumnious- 
 ly against her blessed miracles of Loretto ; and against his 
 holinesse, the great agent and Christ's vicar on earth: there- 
 fore thou hast justly falne into our hands by her speciall ap- 
 pointment ; thy books and papers are miraculously translated 
 by her speciall providence with my owne countreymen ; where- 
 fore thou mayest clearly see, the impenetrable mysteries of our 
 glorious lady in punishing her offenders ; and for a humble 
 satisfaction, repent thee of thy wickednesse, and be converted 
 
48 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 to the holy mother church. And after many such like exhor* 
 tations of all the foure, the inquisitor assigned me eight dayes 
 for my conversion ; saying that he and the Tiatines would 
 twice a day visite mee in that time, intreating mee to bee ad- 
 vised againe the next morning, of these doubts and difficulties 
 that withstood my conscience. 
 
 " Then in leaving me, the Jesuite predicates making a crosse 
 upon my crossed brest, said, My sonne, behold you deserve to 
 be burnt quick; but by the grace of our Lady of Loretto, 
 whom you have blasphemed, Ave will both save you r soule and 
 body : spewing forth also this faeminine Latine ; Nam mansue- 
 ta et misericordiosa est Ecclesia, O Ecclesia Romana ! extra 
 quern non est salus : They gone, and I alone all this night, was 
 I instant with my God, imploring his grace to rectify my 
 thoughts, illuminate my understanding, confirme my confidence, 
 beatific my memory, to sanctifie my knowledge, to expell the 
 servile feare of death, and to save my soule from the intangling 
 corruption of any private ends, illusions, or mundane respects 
 whatsover. 
 
 " The next morning, the three Ecclesiastickes returned, and 
 being placed with chaires and candles, the inquisitor made in- 
 terrogation, of what difficulties, errours, or mis-beleefe I had : 
 to whom ingenuously I answered I had none, neither any diffi- 
 culty, errour, nor mis-beleefe; but was confident in the pro- 
 mises of Jesus Christ, and assuredly believed his revealed will 
 in the Gospell, professed in the Reformed Catholik church; 
 which being confirmed by grace, I had the infallible assurance 
 in my soule, of the true Christian faith. 
 
 " To these words hee answered, thou art no Christian, but 
 an absurd hereticke, and without conversion ; a member of per- 
 dition ; whereupon I replyed, Reverend sir, the nature of cha- 
 rity and religion, doe not consist in opprobious speeches ; where- 
 fore if you would convert mee, as you say, convince mee by 
 argument : if not, all your threatnings of fire, death, nor tor- 
 ments, shall make me shrink from the truth of Gods word in 
 sacred scriptures. Whereupon the mad inquisitor clapped mee 
 on the face with his foote, busing mee with many raylings, 
 and if the Jesuits had not intercepted him, hee had stabbed 
 mee with a knife ; where, when dismissed, I never saw him 
 more." 
 
 It appears that the governor had given him up to the Inqui- 
 sition ; and, as the arguments of the priests took no effect upon 
 him, he is condemned to death. 
 
 " But hauing satisfied his bewitching policy with a Christian 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 49 
 
 constancy, they all three left mee in a thundering rage; vow- 
 ing I should that night have the first seal of my long sorrowes 
 and directing their course to the Bishop and Inquisitor, (for the 
 governour had wrested the inquisition ypon mee, to free him 
 of his former aspersion layde vpon the English fleet, and my 
 tryall therefore, converting it all to matters of religion,) the in- 
 quisition, I say, sat forth with, where first I was condemned to 
 receiue that night eleuen strangling torments in my dungeom: 
 and then after Easter holidayes, I should be transported pri- 
 uately to Grenada, and there, about midnight, to be burnt body 
 and bones into ashes, and my ashes to be flung into ayre : well, 
 that same night, the scriuan, sergeants, and the young English 
 priest, entered my melancholy staunce : where the priest, in 
 the English tongue vrging mee all that he could (though little 
 it was he could doe) and vnpreuailing, I was disburdened of 
 my irons, vnclothed to my skin, set on my knees and held yp 
 fast with their hands : where, instantly, setting my teeth assun- 
 der with iron cadges, they filled my belly full of water, euen 
 gorgeing to my throate : them with a garter, they bound fast 
 my throate, till the white of mine eye turned vpward; and be- 
 ing laid on my side, I was by two sergeants tumbled too and 
 fro seuen times through the roome ; euen till I was almost 
 strangled : this done, they fastened a small cord about each one 
 of my great toes, and hoysing mee therewith to the roofe of a 
 high loft, (for the cords runne on two rings of iron fastned 
 above,) they cut the garter, and there I hung with my head 
 downward, in my tormented weight, till all the gushing water 
 dissolved : this done, I was let downe from the loft, quite sense- 
 lesse, lying a long time cold dead among their hands : whereof 
 the governour being informed, came running vp stayres, crying, 
 is he dead % O he, villans, goe fetch me wine, which they powred 
 in my mouth, regayning thereby a slender sparke of breath. 
 
 " These strangling torments ended, and I reclothed, and fast 
 bolted againe, they left mee lying on the cold floore praysing 
 my God, and singing of a Psalme. The next morning the 
 pittifull Turke visiting mee with bread and water, brought mee 
 also secretly, in his shirt-sleeve, two handfulls, of raisons and 
 figges, laying them on the floore amongst the crawling vei mine, 
 for having no use of armes nor handes, I was constrained by 
 hunger and impotency of time, to licke up one with another 
 with my tongue : this charity of figs the slave did once erery 
 weeke or fortnight, or else I had long ere then famished." 
 
 His miserable situation becomes known to the English in 
 Malaga, by an accident, and he is released. 
 
50 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 " But now to abbreviat a thousand circumstances of my la- 
 mentable sufferings, which this volume may not suffer to con- 
 tain. By God's great providence, about a fortnight before 
 Easter, anno 1621, there came a Spanish cavaliere, of Grenada, 
 to Malaga, whom the governour, one night, invited to supper, 
 being of old acquaintance ; where, after supper, to intertaine 
 discourse, the governour related and disclosed to the stranger, 
 (God working thereby my discovery and deliverance,) all the 
 proceedings and causes of my first apprehending, my confes- 
 sions, torments, starvings, their mistaking of the English fleete, 
 and finally, the wresting of the Inquisition upon me, and their 
 condemnatory sentence ; seeming also much to lament my mis- 
 fortunes, and praising my travailes and deserts. 
 
 " Now all this while, the gentleman's servant, a Flandrish 
 Fleming, standing at his maister's back, and adhering to all 
 the governour' s relations, was astonished, to heare of a sake- 
 lesse stranger, to have indured, and to indure such damnable 
 murther and cruelty. Whereupon, the discourse ending, and 
 midnight past, the stranger returned to his lodging ; where the 
 Fleming having bedded his master, and himselfe also in ano- 
 ther roome, he could not sleepe all that night, and if hee slum- 
 bered, still hee thought hee saw a man torturing, and burning in 
 the fire ; which he confessed to Mr. Wilds when morning came. 
 
 " Well, he longed for day, and it being come, and hee cloath- 
 ed, hee quietly left his lodging, inquiring for an English fac- 
 tor, and coming to the house of Mr. Richard Wilds, the chiefe 
 English consul, hee told him all what hee heard the governour 
 tell his master, but could not tell my name; onely master 
 Richard Wilds conjectur'd it was I, because of the others re- 
 port of a traveller, and of his first and former acquaintance with 
 me there. 
 
 11 Whereupon the Fleming being dismissed, hee straight sent 
 for the other English factors, Mr. Richard Busbitch, Mr. Iohn 
 Corney, Mr. Hanger, Mr. Stanton, Mr. Cooke, Mr. Rowley, 
 and Mr. Woodson ; where advising them, what was best to be 
 done for my reliefe, they sent letters away immediately with all 
 post diligence, to Sir Walter Aston, his majestie's ambassadour 
 lying at Madrile. Vpon which hee, mediating with the king 
 and counsell of Spaine, obtained a straight warrant to command 
 the governour of Malaga, to deliuer mee ouer in the English 
 hands ; which being come, to their great dislike, I was released 
 on Easter Saturday before midnight, and carryed vpon Hazier, 
 the slaue's backe, to Master Busbitche's house, where I wai 
 carefully attended till day light. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 51 
 
 " Meanewhile, oy great fortune, there being a squader of his 
 majestie's ships lying in the road, Sir Richard Halkins came 
 earlv ashoare, accompanied with a strong trayne, and receiued 
 meefrom the merchants; whence I was carryed on men's 
 armes, in a pair of blankets, to the Vanguard, his majestie's 
 ship. And three dayes thereafter, I was transported to a ship, 
 bound for England, the fleete's victualler, named the Good 
 Will, of Harwich, by direction of the General, Sir Robert 
 Maunsell : where being well placed, and charge given by Sir 
 Richard Halkins to the ship's master, William Westerdale, for 
 his carefulness toward the preservation of my life, which then 
 was broght so low and miserable. The aforesaid merchants sent 
 me from shoare, besides the ship's victuals, a suite of Spanish 
 apparell, twelue hens, with other poultry, and a barrell of wine, 
 a basket full of egges, two roves of figges and raisins, two 
 hundred oranges and lemmons, eight pounds of sugar, a num- 
 ber of excellent good bread, and two hundred realls in siluer 
 and gold ; besides two double pistolls, Sir Richard Halkins sent 
 mee as a token of his loue." 
 
 When Lithgow arrived at Deptford, he was carried upon a 
 bed to Theobalds, where the king resided, and placed in the 
 Privy Gallery, to be seen by the king. James sent him to Bath, 
 at the royal expense, where he stayed twenty-seven weeks, and 
 appears to have recovered his health and strength, excepting 
 in his left arm. Various attempts were made to procure re- 
 dress from Gondomar, the Spanish Ambassador ; and one of 
 them was backed so forcibly by violent conduct on the part of 
 Lithgcw, that some sort of a challenge passed, and the poor 
 pilgrim v as imprisoned again in the Marshalsea, at Southwark, 
 "whence," he says, "he returned with more credit, than Gon- 
 domar did with honesty to Spain." 
 
 In the reign of Charles, Lithgow brought his case, by a bill 
 of grievances, before the Upper House ; but he never appears 
 to have obtained any satisfactory redress. 
 
 ESCAPE OF MR. BOWER FROM THE INQUISITION. 
 
 Mr. Archibald Bower, author of the history of the lives 
 of the popes, was born in Scotland, and at five years of age 
 was sent over by his parents, (who were Roman Catholics,) to 
 an uncle in Italy, where he was educated, and became so greet 
 
52 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 a proficient in learning, that he was appointed professor of rhe- 
 toric and logic, in the college at Macerata. At this place there 
 is an office of the inquisition, called the holy tribunal, which 
 consists of an inquisitor general, (who is president thereof,) and 
 twelve counselors, who are chosen by him indifferently from the 
 ecclesiastics, or the laity. Each of these has a salary of about 
 200/. sterling per annum, and an apartment in the house of the 
 inquisition, which is a grand building, and the residence of the 
 inquisitor general, who provides a table for them. Much honor 
 and many great privileges, besides a certainty of good prefer- 
 ment, are attached to the situation. One privilege is, that if 
 they commit ever such enormous or flagitious crimes againsi 
 the law, even murder, they cannot be apprehended without 
 leave from the inquisitor general, which gives them opportunity 
 to escape. 
 
 The counselors cannot be absent a single night, without 
 leave from the inquisitor. Offenses against the faith or prac- 
 tices of the church alone come under the cognizance of this 
 court ; and these are generally very trifling — such as saying or 
 doing any thing disrespectful, with regard to their saints, im- 
 ages, relics, or the like. 
 
 When a person is accused, the inquisitor general summons 
 the council, which always meets in the night, and if anv mem- 
 ber should happen to be absent, his place is supplied by a nota- 
 ry, for all trials must be in full court. The president then no- 
 tifies the crimes, without naming the informer or the criminal. 
 
 Any of the council may object to the information; and if 
 the number of objectors amount to four, the inquisitor is obli- 
 ged to disclose the evidence, or more properly, the informer ; 
 after which, if the objections are still persisted in, the cause 
 must be carried to the high court at Rome : otherwise their 
 opinions are taken, whether or not the offense be such as the 
 holy tribunal ought to notice. If it is determined to proceed 
 against the criminal, the inquisitor general orders any one of 
 the council whom he pleases, to apprehend him at the dead 
 hour of the night. A proper guard is assigned for that pur- 
 pose, who with dark lanterns and arms, attend him to the 
 poor wretch's abode ; where, with the utmost silence and se- 
 crecy, (for nobody dare to make any noise or resistance, on 
 pain of excommunication,) he is seized and conveyed into one 
 of the dismal dungeons of the inquisition house. There the 
 poor creature is confined seven or eight days, without the least 
 glimpse of light, uninformed of the crime of which he is ac- 
 cused, and without other sustenance than a little bre' d and 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 53 
 
 water, once a day. The key of the dungeon is given to the 
 counselor who makes the arrest, and is delivered up by him 
 the next morning to the inquisitor general. 
 
 The term of seven days being expired, the court is summon- 
 ed for the trial, when a notary attends to write down what the 
 criminal says, and a surgeon to feel his pulse, and to tell them 
 how much he can bear. The machines, or engines for torture 
 being fixed, the accused is brought in ; and without being told 
 either his offense or his accuser, and denied the liberty of ex- 
 postulating, he is exhorted to confess what crime he has been 
 guilty of; and though he make immediate confession, even of 
 the offense with which he is charged, yet he must ratify it on 
 the torture, that being, as they term it, "a witness;" if he can- 
 not recollect, or refuse to confess, he is put to the torture, for 
 not exceeding one hour. 
 
 A counselor is placed close to him on one side, to observe 
 that all be done according to their rules, and the surgeon on 
 the other, to ascertain the degree of torture he is able to support. 
 If the accused survive this hour, and does not confess, he is 
 carried back to prison for another week, and then tortured again. 
 Should he appear to make any effort to confess, he is borne up 
 a little, while speaking, but at whatever time he confesses, he 
 is nevertheless tortured afterwards to confirm it. and must like- 
 wise undergo such punishment as the inquisition please to in- 
 flict for the supposed crime. This is generally imprisonment 
 in one of their horrid dungeons, for one, two, or three years, 
 or more frequently for life ; for few, very few that are so unfor- 
 tunate as to get into the inquisition, live to come out. Num- 
 bers, notwithstanding the barbarous assiduity used to preserve 
 them for farther misery, expire under the torture, or in a few 
 days, sometimes only hours after. 
 
 Mr. Bower mentions three different kinds of torture : 
 
 1st. That which they reckon the most exquisite, and there- 
 fore called the queen of tortures. In this, the criminal's hands 
 are tied behind his back, and fastened to a rope, which, by 
 means of four cords drawn over pulleys at each corner of the 
 lofty room, enables them to hoist him up to the ceiling in an 
 mstant, when he is let down again within a tew inches of the 
 ground. This process is thrice repeated ; and by the sudden 
 j.crk all his bones are dislocated. The wretch is suffered to 
 hang so disjointed until the hour is expired, or he confesses. 
 
 2d. The second instrument is something like a smith's anvil, 
 fixed in the middle of the floor, with a spike not very sharp at 
 the top. Ropes are attached to each corner of the room, as in 
 
54 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 the former instance, to which the criminal's legs and arms are 
 fastened, and he is drawn up a little, and then he is let down 
 with his backbone exactly on the spike of iron where his whole 
 weight rests. The third torture is that which they term a 
 slight torture, and applied only to women. Matches of tow 
 and pitch are wrapped round their hands, and then set on fire, 
 until the flesh is consumed. 
 
 While Mr. Bower was professor in college, the inquisitor 
 general contracted a great intimacy with him. One day, as 
 they were in conversation, he said, " Mr. Bower, I have a de- 
 sign upon you," — a speech, which, from an inquisitor general, 
 notwithstanding his avowed friendship, carried some terror in 
 it. But he soon explained himself by stating, that one of the 
 members of the council was so ill, that he daily expected death ; 
 and whenever it happened, he intended him the honor of filling 
 the place. Mr. Bower received this declaration with high sa- 
 tisfaction and proper acknowledgments. Soon afterwards the 
 sick member died, when the inquisitor general sent for Mr. 
 Bower, who, though he had so much reason to guess the occa- 
 sion, was somewhat alarmed, but went immediately. On his 
 arrival, the inquisitor general informed him, that he had sent 
 for him to perform his promise, and embracing him, said, " you 
 are now one of us." A council was convened on the same 
 night, and Mr. Bower was presented and received with the 
 usual forms. After taking the oath of secrecy, a book, called 
 the Directory, was delivered to him, containing rules for the de- 
 cision and conduct of the inquisitor ; and Avhich, for greater 
 caution, was in manuscript. When any member is dangerous- 
 ly indisposed, or is appointed to a higher office, he is obliged 
 to seal his copy with the inquisition seal ; after w T hich it is death 
 to open or retain it. Mr. Bower returned home much phased 
 with his good fortune; and being desirous to be better acquainted 
 with the nature of his new employment, instead of going to bed, 
 perused his Directory. But what was his astonishment and 
 concern to find it consist of rules more barbarous, infamous, 
 and inhuman, than can be conceived ! Rules, however, which 
 he flattered himself could not be observed, until experience 
 convinced him of the contrary, and he saw the practice exem- 
 plified. Within a fortnight after Mr. B.'s admission, a poor man 
 was brought to the office. His case was this : he had an only 
 daughter that fell sick, for whom he prayed to the Virgin Ma 
 ry : " Holy Mother of God ! command thy Son, that my daugh- 
 ter may recover." The daughter died ; consequently the Vir- 
 gin had not heard his prayers : and being grieved to the heart 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 5E 
 
 for his loss, he threw away a medal of the Virgin, which ho 
 used to carry about him, and the fact being reported to the in- 
 quisition, the poor wretch was put to the torture. It is not pos- 
 sible to express what Mr. B. then felt, and continued to feel 
 during his attendance at the inquisition, where he was obliged 
 to be, not only witness of, but consenting to, barbarities his 
 heart disapproved, and which were frequently inflicted on per- 
 sons he believed as innocent as himself. It is extraordinary, 
 that the violent emotions, which, in spite of all his endeavors 
 to suppress, would frequently discover themselves, did not give 
 his brethren cause to suspect him, especially as the inquisitor 
 genera', had once made an observation, that Mr. B. generally 
 objected to the evidence ; saying, with great warmth, and stri- 
 king the council board, " Mr. Bower, you always object." 
 
 On one occasion, he evidently proved how little he was gra- 
 tified by being a member of such a society. It being his turn 
 to sit by a person who was receiving the torture, he chanced 
 to look on the sufferer's countenance, and conceiving that he 
 saw death in his distortions, he instantly fainted away, and was 
 carried to his chair, at the council board. When he recovered, 
 the inquisitor general exclaimed, " Mr. Bower, take your place S 
 you do not reflect that what is done to the body is for the good 
 of the soul, or you would not faint thus." Mr. B. replied, that 
 it was the weakness of his nature ; he could not help it. " Na- 
 ture !" said the inquisitor, "you must conquer nature by 
 grace!" Mr. B. promised that he would endeavor to do so. 
 The poor man at that moment expiring, the discourse concluded. 
 
 Mr. Bower now projected his escape, and revolved in his 
 mind every possible method of effecting it ; but when he con- 
 sidered the formidable difficulties with which each was attend- 
 ed, and the fatal consequences, if he failed ; his suspense, add- 
 ed to the painful circumstances in which he was placed, was 
 scarcely supportable. At length, an event occurred, which 
 fixed his resolution, at the same time that it afforded the inqui- 
 sitor general an opportunity to perceive how far dictates, more 
 tender than those of nature, might be suppressed (subdued they 
 could not be) in Mr. Bower. 
 
 A person was accused to the inquisition, for remarking to a 
 companion, on meeting two Carthusian friars, " what fools are 
 these, to think they shall gain heaven by wearing such cloth, 
 and going barefoot ! they might as well be merry, and do as 
 we do, and they would get to heaven as soon." 
 
 This individual was a nobleman, the most intimate and only 
 friend of Mr. Bower, who maintained an intercourse with him- 
 
56 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 after being made a counselor of the inquisition, for all ranks 
 of people are cautious how they correspond with the inquisi- 
 tion, &c. Walking in his garden with his lady, and seeing two 
 friars pass, with their feet and heads bare, and in the mortify- 
 ing garb of their order, after they were gone some distance, 
 and, as he thought, out of hearing, he expressed his surprise 
 to his lady, that any person should be so far infatuated, as to 
 believe that such a particular dress could be meritorious in the 
 sight of God. Unhappily, the friars overheard him, and re- 
 ported his words to the inquisition. 
 
 All Mr. Bower's compassion was excited, for he knew that 
 the culprit would be treated with the utmost malice and seve- 
 rity ; this being deemed a heinous offense against the church. 
 But how great was his distress when he heard the name de- 
 nounced of his dearest, his only friend ; and when the inquisi- 
 tor concluded, by saying, " And you, Mr. Bower, I order to 
 apprehend him, and bring him here, between two and three 
 this morning." " My lord, you know the connection" —Mr. 
 Bower was proceeding, but the inquisitor sternly interrupted 
 him. "Connection! what! talk of connection when the holy 
 faith is concerned!" and rising up to go away — "see that it 
 be done ; the guards shall wait without ;" and as he passed 
 him, said — "this is the way to conquer nature, Mr. Bower!" 
 What passed in Mr. Bower's breast during the interval which 
 elapsed before the time appointed, (being about an hour,) those 
 who have not tenderness enough to represent to themselves, 
 cannot be made sensible by all the powers of language. To 
 give his friend notice, was impossible ; for the myrmidons were 
 waiting without. To refuse going, would be fatal to himself, 
 without benefiting his friend. When told that the hour was 
 come, he went with his awful retinue, and knocked at the door j 
 when a maid servant, looking out of the window, asked who 
 was there. Mr. Bower replied, " the holy inquisition ! come 
 down and open the door, without waking anybody, or making 
 the least noise, on pain of excommunication." Down came the 
 poor girl, in such trepidation as to be scarcely able to stand. 
 " Show me the way to your master's room !" " I knew the 
 way as well as she," said Mr. Bower, when he related this in 
 such a tone of voice and manner, as declared that all the sweet 
 familiarity which subsisted between them, and the many friend- 
 ly interviews they had had, perhaps in that very apartment, oc- 
 curred at that instant to his mind. 
 
 The nobleman and his lady, to whom he had been marriec! 
 "lut six moi:ths. were asleep when they entered. The lady 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 57 
 
 waking" first, shrieked out ; upon which one of the ruffians 
 gave her a blow on the head, and made the blood gush out ; 
 for which Mr. Bower severely reproved him. The nobleman, 
 who was by this time awakened, cried out, with hands and eyes 
 lifted up in astonishment, "Mr. Bower!" and nothing more; 
 implying thereby, every aggravating circumstance, and em- 
 phatically expressing the strong emotions of his soul. No 
 wonder that Mr. Bower was obliged to turn from him, Whilst 
 executing his commission. Nor did he dare, during the fol- 
 lowing scenes of this dreadful catastrophe, to look towards him 
 lest his eyes should speak the language of his heart so plainly 
 as to be understood, not only by his friend, but by the whole 
 court. 
 
 The ensuing morning, when Mr. Bower delivered the key 
 of the prison, and announced the arrest, the inquisitor general 
 said to him, " this is done like one who is desirous, at least, to 
 conquer the weakness of nature." 
 
 The nobleman underwent the queen of tortures, but was re- 
 leased by death, three days after the infliction. His estate, as 
 usual, was confiscated to the inquisition ; reserving a small pro- 
 vision only for his widowed lady, and to the child, if she should 
 prove pregnant. It may be supposed that Mr. Bower was now 
 fully determined on an adventure, the most desperate that man 
 ever undertook, and of which history can scarcely produce an 
 equal. The manner of it was all that remained for considera- 
 tion. It occurred to him, to solicit permission to make a 
 pilgrimage to Loretto, and for that purpose he waited on the 
 inquisitor general several times ; but conscious of his secret 
 intentions, whenever he attempted to speak, he dreaded, lest his 
 words should falter on his tongue, and his very confusion be- 
 tray him ; so that still he returned as he went. One day, how- 
 ever, while in familiar conversation, he had the courage to say, 
 " my lord ! it is long since I was at Loretto ; will your lordship 
 give me leave to go thither for a week ?" to which the inquisitor 
 general gave an immediate assent. 
 
 The anxiety of a mind filled with a project of such impor- 
 tance, occasioned Mr. Bower to add the following to the many 
 sleepless nights he had already passed, as may be readily- 
 imagined. 
 
 Having made all his preparations, and his valuable papers 
 (including his directory) being concealed in the lining of his 
 clothes ; so soon as the horse which he had hired and ordered 
 to be brought to him early in the morning, was come to the 
 door, he carried down his portmanteau and fasteued it or him- 
 
58 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 self. As he was mounting, he told the owner of the horse, he 
 did not know whether he should like him or not, as he was a 
 very bad horseman, and asked him what he valued him at, in 
 case he should not suit. The man nar d the price, and he 
 gave him the money; and then set forward, armed with two 
 loaded pistols, being determined, in case of any exigence, not 
 to be taken alive. 
 
 Mr Bower's plan was to take the by-roads through the Adri 
 atic states into Switzerland ; being a distance of 400 miles, before 
 he could get out of the pope's jurisdiction, and with the roads 
 through which, beyond 150 miles from Marcerata, he was 
 perfectly unacquainted. 
 
 After traveling ten miles without meeting anybody, he found 
 himself at a place where two roads met ; the one leading to 
 Loretto, and the other being the road which he proposed going. 
 Here he stood some minutes, in the most profound perplexity. 
 The dreadful alternative appeared now in the strongest view : 
 and he was even yet tempted to quit his darling project, and 
 turn towards Loretto. But finally, collecting all the force of his 
 staggering resolution, he pushed his horse into the contrary road, 
 and at that instant left all his fears behind. 
 
 It was in the month of April, when Mr. Bower began his 
 journey. During the first seventeen days, the nature of the 
 roads he was to pursue, amongst mountains, woods, rocks, and 
 precipices, in paths generally no better than a sheep track, and 
 often not so good, prevented his traveling more than 100 miles. 
 When he met any person, which was very seldom, he pretend- 
 ed to have lost his way, and inquired for the high road, to avoid 
 suspicion ; for he well knew that so soon as the papers he con- 
 veyed, were missing, or that there was any reason to expect 
 his escape, expresses would be dispatched in every direction, 
 and every possible method adopted to secure him. In fact, ex- 
 presses were sent off, and in a very short time outstripped him 
 above one hundred miles.' 
 
 During these seventeen days, he supported h.'mself on goat's 
 milk, obtained from the shepherds, with such coarse victuals 
 as he could purchase of the peasants who came for fagots; 
 choosing his place of repose for himself, where there was most 
 shelter and grass for his horse. At the expiration of this period, 
 having fasted nearly three days, he was compelled to strike 
 into the high road, and enter the first house he came to, which 
 happened to be a post house, with only one small room, where 
 gentlemen staid till their horses were changed. He requested 
 the landlady to give him some victuals; but looking about he 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 59 
 
 «*w it paper posted up over the door, which contained the most 
 exact and minute description of his own person, offering a re- 
 ward of the value of 800/. for his head. This was sufficiently 
 terrifying, as there were two countrymen in the house. Hu 
 endeavored to hide his face, by rubbing it with his handker- 
 chief and blowing his nose ; and when he got into the room, by 
 looking out of the window. But one of the fellows presently 
 observing, "this gentleman don't care to be known ;" Mr. Eower 
 thought there was nothing for it, but to brave it out ; so turning 
 to him, he put his handkerchief in his pocket, and said boldly, 
 " you rascal ! what do you mean ? what have I done that I 
 need fear to be known ? look at me, you villain !" The man 
 made no reply, but got up, nodded his head, and winking sig- 
 nificantly to his companion, they walked . out together. Mr. 
 Bower watched them from the window, but a corner obstructed 
 his view for a few minutes. In a short time he espied them, 
 with three or four others, in close conference. This foreboded 
 no good ; not a moment was to be lost. He drew out his pis- 
 tols ; put one in his sleeve, and with the other cocked in his 
 hand, marched into the stable, and without saying a word, 
 mounted his horse and rode off. 
 
 Fortunately, the men wanted either presence of mind or 
 courage to attack him ; for they certainly recognised him, by 
 the description given in the advertisement. He was again 
 obliged to seek refuge in the woods, where he must soon have 
 been famished, but for the superintendence of Divine Provi- 
 dence. At night, when he was almost fainting, he met with 
 some woodcutters, who supplied him with excellent provisions. 
 He wandered for some time through paths, in which he ren- 
 dered his horse more assistance than he could derive from him, 
 being obliged to clear the roads and lead him. 
 
 As night advanced, he laid himself down in a very discon- 
 solate condition, having no idea where he was, or which way 
 lie should turn. When the day began to break, he found he 
 was on a small eminence, where he discovered a town at a dis- 
 tance, which he concluded to be one of considerable extent, 
 from the number of its steeples, spires, <fcc. Though this gave 
 him some satisfaction, yet it was not unaccompanied with terror, 
 as he knew not what place it was, and might incur much risk 
 by going into the high road to inquire. Nevertheless he ad- 
 vanced as fast as he could, and asking the first person he met, 
 was informed it was Lucern, the residence of the pope's nuncio, 
 to and from whom, all the expresses concerning Mr. Bower 
 must have been dispatched. This road not suiting his views, 
 
60 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 he left it the moment his informer was out of sight, and once 
 more betook him to the woods ; where he wandered some time 
 longer, oppressed by hunger and cold, and perplexed with un- 
 certainty whither he should go. 
 
 One dismal, dark, and wet night, he could neither find shel- 
 ter, nor ascertain where he was, or what course he should pur- 
 sue ; but after some time, he perceived a light at a very great 
 distance, towards which he attempted to proceed; and with 
 much difficulty discovered a track ; but so narrow and uneven, 
 that he was forced to extend one foot before the other in the 
 most cautious manner. With much labor, he reached the 
 1 lace from which he had seen the light ; which was a misera- 
 ble hut. He knocked and called, till some one looked out, and 
 demanded who he .was, and what brought him there. Mr. 
 Bower replied that he was a stranger and had lost his way. 
 "Way!" cried the man, "there is no way here to lose!" "Why. 
 where am I ?" said Mr. Bower. " In the Canton of Berne I" 
 " In the Canton of Berne ? Thank God !" exclaimed Mr. Bow- 
 er, in raptures, "that I am in the Canton of Berne." "Thank 
 God you are !" replied the man, "but for God's sake, how came 
 you here ?" Mr. Bower begged that he would come down and 
 open the door, and he would then satisfy him. He did so, and 
 Mr. Bower inquired if he had heard any thing of a person 
 who had lately escaped from the inquisition. " Aye ! — heard 
 of him ! we have all heard of him ! After sending off so ma- 
 ny expresses, and so much noise about him, God grant that he 
 may be safe, and keep out of their hands !" Mr. Bower said, 
 " I am the person !" The peasant in a transport of joy clasp- 
 ed him in his arms, kissed him, and ran to call his wife, who 
 came with every expression of pleasure in her countenance; 
 and making one of her best courtesies, kissed his hand. Her 
 husband spoke Italian, (as most of the borderers do,) but she 
 eould not ; and Mr. Bower not understanding Swiss, she was 
 obliged to make her compliments in pantomime, or by her hus- 
 band, as her interpreter. Both expressed much concern that 
 they had no better accommodation for him. " If they had a 
 bed for themselves, he should have it ; bat he should have some 
 clean straw, and Avhat covering they possessed." 
 
 The good man hastened to get off Mr. Bower's wet clothes, 
 and wrap something about him till they were dry ; and the wife 
 to get ready what victuals they had, which, probably for the 
 first time, they regretted were no better than a little sour crout, 
 (composed of cabbage and curds, salted and put down together 
 in a firkin, and used by the Swiss peasants as their ordinary 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 61 
 
 food,) and new laid eggs. " A fresh laid egg" Mr. Bower said, 
 " was a novelty" — and no doubt he so esteemed it at the time, 
 and in such company. These eggs were served up with the 
 crout, and he made a comfortable meal ; after which he enjoy- 
 ed what may be properly termed repose, for it was quiet and 
 secure. 
 
 As soon as he arose in the morning, the honest Swiss and his 
 wife, (who had been long awake, but would not stir lest they 
 should disturb him,) came to know how he had rested. The 
 good dame was dressed in her holiday clothes. After break- 
 fast the husband set oat with him, to direct him the road to 
 Berne, which was at no great distance ; previously insisting 
 on returning with him a little way to show him the road he 
 had taken the previous night. Mr. Bower did not much like 
 this. The man perceiving his doubt, reproved him for dis- 
 trusting that Providence which had so wonderfully preserved 
 him ; and soon convinced him that he only wanted to increase 
 his dependence on it for the future, by showing him the danger 
 he had escaped ; for he saw that he and his horse had passed 
 a dreadful precipice, where the breadth of the path would 
 scarcely admit a horse, and tne very sight of which made him 
 shudder. The peasant accompanied him for several miles, on 
 the road to Berne, until there was no probability of losing his 
 way, and then left him, with a thousand good wishes. 
 
 l;3o truly does religion exalt and refine the principles and sen 
 tin.ents, that when Mr. Bower offered to remunerate him, 
 though in such extreme poverty, he obstinately refused to ac- 
 cept any thing, saying, " God forbid ! he had his reward in 
 being in any manner instrumental to his safety !" In general, 
 those who possess the protestant religion on the confines of the 
 ecclesiastical state, are remarkably zealous. 
 
 Mr. Bower proceeded towards Berne, at which place he in- 
 quired for the minister : to whom he discovered himself, and 
 received from him as hearty a welcome as he had experienced 
 from the honest Swiss, with the addition of more elegant en- 
 tertainment ; but was advised to go forward the next morning 
 to Basle; for though protected from open violence, he was not 
 secure from secret treachery. . Basle being situated en the 
 Rhine, a boat sailed at stated times from thence to Holland ; 
 which wr s usually crowded with people of desperate charac- 
 ters, from all parts of the continent, flying from the laws of 
 their respective countries, for theft, murder, and crimes of every 
 description. This conveyance seemed to be the most expe- 
 ditious mode of getting to England; and the minister gave 
 5 ft 
 
62 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 Mr. Bower a letter to his friend, the minister at Basle, who re- 
 ceived him kindly, and approved of the plan suggested. 
 
 During the two days following his arrival, before the sailing 
 of the passage boat, Mr. Bower kept close quarters, and equip- 
 pcd himself in a manner suitable to the company with which 
 he was about to associate, putting his own clothes into his port- 
 manteau; of which, as he was instructed to be particularly 
 careful, he made his seat by day, and his pillow by night. Be- 
 ing obliged to leave his horse, which was endeared to him by 
 *he hardships it had shared with him, he was determined to 
 place it in the hands of a good master, and presented it to the 
 minister, who promised it should be rode by no one but him- 
 self; and that when it became old and infirm, it should be com- 
 fortably maintained. So inseparable are tenderness and hu- 
 manity, from true greatness of soul, that Mr. Bower shed some 
 tears at parting with his companion and assistant in his diffi« 
 culties. 
 
 Disgusting as he found the company in the boat, he was 
 compelled to regret the necessity of leaving it, in consequence 
 of having sprung a leak, which obliged the master to put in at 
 Strasburgh for repairs, which might detain him a fortnight. 
 To stay there, was impossible : Mr. Bower, therefore, took off 
 the shabby d ess, in which he was disguised, at the first inn he 
 saw ; and concealing it beneath the bed, stole out with his port- 
 manteau to a tavern, from whence he sent to engage a seat in 
 the stage to Calais. For the first two or three days of his 
 journey, he heard nothing of himself; which induced him to 
 hope that the news of his escape, had not yet reached France : 
 but in this he was disappointed, for as he approached Calais, 
 he found it was the subject of general conversation. On his 
 arrival at Calais, he was introduced into an apartment, in which 
 were two Jesuits, who wore the red cross of the inquisition, and 
 several officers of the police: he instantly hastened to the quay, 
 and inquiring when the packet sailed for England, was inform- 
 ed, not till the Monday following, that day being Friday. Upon 
 this he turned to a fisherman, and asked if he would carry him 
 over in an open boat ; but he, as well as others, astonished at 
 the rashness of his designs, refused. He was soon convinced 
 this was a wrong step, for the eyes of every body were fixed 
 upon him, as a person of extraordinary consequence ; conclu- 
 ding, that either he had dispatches of the last importance, or 
 was some enormous offender escaping from justice. Every 
 thing seemed to conspire to distress him, and he began to doubi 
 the possibility of reaching his inn, apprehending that everv 
 
• 
 
Bower's Escape from the Inquisition. — Page 63. 
 
 Brotherhood of Mercy. — Page ' 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET- 63 
 
 one he met, was about to lay hold of him. When he got there, 
 finding the room where the Jesuits had been, unoccupied, he 
 inquired of the woman, who belonged to the house, what had 
 become of the good company he had left there. " O, sir," said 
 she, " I am sorry to tell you — but they are up stairs, searching 
 your portmanteau !" What course to pursue, he could not de- 
 termine. By water, he knew he could not escape ; and in or- 
 der to get through the gates, he must pass the guards ; who, 
 most probably, were prepared to intercept him. If it were 
 practicable to secrete himself till it was dark, and attempt to 
 scale the walls, he was unacquainted with their height; and if 
 detected, he was ruined. 
 
 The dangers he had surmounted, now aggravated the terror 
 of his situation. After weathering so long a storm, to perish 
 within sight of the desired haven, was a most distracting 
 thought. It seemed that a most singular interposition of Pro- 
 vidence alone could prevent it. Whilst engaged in these sad 
 reflections, he heard some company laughing and talking very 
 loud ; and listening at the door, he found the conversation was 
 in a language he did not understand. Concluding, therefore, 
 that the party was English, he rushed into the room, and re- 
 collecting the face of Lord Baltimore, whom he had seen at 
 Rome, he requested the favor of a word in private with his 
 lordship. The surprise occasioned by his sudden appearance, 
 with one pistol cocked in his hand, and another in his sleeve, 
 was increased by Mr. Bower's request, accompanied with his 
 determined air. Lord Baltimore desired he would lay down 
 his pistol, which he did, begging pardon for not having done 
 so before ; some of the gentlemen then told him of the other, 
 which he likewise laid down. Lord Baltimore then asked him 
 if he had any other arms about him; and being assured he 
 had not, he directly retired with him into another apartment. 
 On being informed who he was, Lord Baltimore exclaimed, 
 " Mr Bower, you are undone, and I cannot protect you, they 
 are above, searching your apartment." But a lucky thought 
 fortunately occurring, he instantly returned to his company, 
 and proposed that they should rise up, and taking him in the 
 midst of them, try to cover him, till they got to his lord- 
 ship's boat ; to which the gentlemen immediately assented ; and* 
 the scheme succeeded ; for the boat being very near, they got 
 to it unobserved; and all jumping in, they rowed with four 
 pair of oars to a yacht that lay off the shore about two miles 
 in which the party had come for an excursion, and to drink a 
 bottle of French wine. The wind being fair, they soon reached 
 
64 
 
 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 Dover, where he was safely landed. Thus happily terminated 
 this extremely dangerous undertaking ; proving most striking- 
 ly, the truth of that religious proverb, "man's extremity is 
 God's opportunity," and presenting the most comfortable us- 
 surances of that special Providence which will not permit a 
 hair to fall from the heads of his servants unnoticed or disre- 
 garded. 
 
 TOMASO ANELLO, THE FISHERMAN OF NAPLES. 
 
 Of all the strange events and transactions that have hap- 
 pened in different ages of the world, there are none more ex- 
 traordinary and surprising than the rise and fall of Masaniello. 
 
 Philip IV. of Spain, sensible of the affection of the Nea- 
 politans, resolved to present them with a new donation : but 
 all commodities being already taxed, it was difficult to raise 
 the money ; so. that they were obliged to lay a gabel (or tax) 
 upon all sorts of fruits that were brought to market ; whereby 
 the common sort of people were deprived of their usual nour 
 ishment and support, and reduced to the lowest misery and dis- 
 tress. This gabel was collected for several months ; at last 
 it grew insupportable, so that many poor wretches, having sold 
 all their household stuff, were obliged to prostitute their daugh- 
 ters to the ministers of the gabels, to gain a short respite : it 
 was to annihilate this dreadful tax that Masaniello started singly, 
 against all the power and influence of Naples, and gained his 
 point, by restoring to the Neapolitans their ancient charter. 
 
 Mindon describes him in these words : " A young fellow, 
 about twenty-four years old, happened to live in a corner of 
 a great market-place of Naples, of a sprightly active dispo- 
 sition, pleasant and humorous, of a confident, bold address, 
 and of a middle stature ; black eyed, sharp and piercing, his 
 body rather lean than fat, with short cropped hair, and a 
 mariner's cap on his head : he wore long linen slops or draw- 
 ers, a blue waistcoat, and went barefoot ; but he had a daring 
 -enterprising countenance, and a good share of stern resolution 
 and rough courage. He got his living by angling for small 
 fish, with a cane, hook and line, and sometimes he bought fish 
 in the market and retailed them. His name was Tomaso 
 Anello, of Amalphi, but vulgarly, and by contraction called 
 Masaniello. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 65 
 
 Masaniello' 3 wife was taken by the officers for selling frui 
 in the streets, that had not paid the gabel, and he was obliged 
 to sell all his goods to pay the fine of one hundred ducats : this 
 struck so deep to the heart of Masaniello, that he determined 
 to do away with so unjust a tax as the gabel ; whereupon, on 
 coming home, he found a great number of boys together ; he 
 made a speech to them, in which he inveighed bitterly against 
 the cruelty of government, and soon made them of his party. 
 He taught them to go about exclaiming against the injustice of 
 their taxes, and in a few days he had 5,000 of them under his 
 command, all sturdy lads, to whom he gave lessons. On the 
 next market-day they seized all the fruit and distributed it to 
 the mob. This action alarmed the whole city, and all things 
 were in great confusion. 
 
 Masaniello was now made commander by the people : where- 
 upon he began to collect arms, and sent to a shopkeeper for 
 some gunpowder, and, on his refusal, ordered his house to be 
 burnt down, which was instantly done. 
 
 The viceroy being now alarmed, sent a letter to Masaniello. 
 which he answered, and enclosed his conditions of peace ; and 
 they not being complied with, he searched all the houses for 
 arms, and seized several guns out of a ship. 
 
 At length an interview took place between the viceroy and 
 Masaniello, when it was granted that the tax should be taken 
 off. At this meeting, Masaniello gave surprising proofs of the 
 obedience of the people to him. " Now," said he to the vice- 
 roy, " see how my people obey me." The people had assem- 
 bled round the viceroy's house, all was tumult and confusion, 
 Masaniello appeared at the balcony, and putting his finger to 
 his mouth, the people were all silent and attentive. He then 
 ordered them to repair home? which they did in the greatest order. 
 
 After this negotiation, the people finding themselves without 
 a leader, called on Masaniello to be their conductor md gene- 
 ralissimo, which he accepted. They also appointed. Genoino, 
 a priest, to attend his person, as counselor ; and they added, 
 as a companion, the celebrated Banditto Perrone. Masaniello, 
 by his behavior, won the affections of all the people. 
 
 On the Sunday following the capitulations were signed and 
 ratified in the cathedral church, and, on the next day, Masa- 
 niello issued a proclamation, stating the office of generalissimo, 
 which the people had conferred on him, had been confirmed by 
 the viceroy. 
 
 It was on a stage in the market-place where Masaniello gave 
 public audiences, clothed in white, like a mariner : he here ro- 
 
 6 # 
 
66 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 ceived all petitions, and gave sentences, both civil and criminal. 
 A list of above sixty persons being presented, who had farmed 
 the taxes, and were reported to have enriched themselves with 
 the blood of the people, and consequently deserving to be made 
 examples of, an order was issued that their houses and goods 
 should be burnt, which was done accordingly, and with, so 
 much precision, that no one was suffered to carry away the 
 smallest article. Many for stealing trifling articles from the 
 flames were hanged in the public market-place by order of 
 Masaniello. 
 
 He was so severe in his judgments, that he had a baker 
 burnt in his own oven, for selling bread lighter than the assize. 
 All his orders were faithfully obeyed, and affixed to the build- 
 ings, and subscribed, "To?naso Anello d'Amalphi, head and 
 captain-general of the faithful people of Naples." 
 
 But Masaniello, who had hitherto behaved with so much 
 wisdom and kingly authority, became, all on a sudden, deliri- 
 ous, and it is generally supposed he had some intoxicating 
 draught given him. In one of his mad fits, he made two great 
 nobles kiss his feet in. the market-place, for not getting out of 
 their carriages when he passed : at length he grew so violently 
 tyrannic, that the people petitioned the viceroy to displace 
 him; but no person was to be found who could take away 
 the life of that man who was the sole cause of restoring their 
 liberties. 
 
 Being at Posillippo, he committed such extravagant things 
 that the people were obliged to secure him, and took him to his 
 own house, where they confined him. From hence he made 
 his escape from his guards, and got safe into the church of our 
 Lady of Carmine, where he resigned himself up to the arch- 
 bishop, who was there singing m^ss, saying, that he knew the 
 people were tired of him, and that he was willing to die. Just 
 when the archbishop was going to the altar, Masaniello got up 
 into the pulpit, and, taking hold of a crucifix, implored the 
 people not to forsake him ; and behaved in so inconsistent a 
 manner, that he was forced out of it. At this moment the men 
 who were appointed by the viceroy to kill him, entered the 
 church ; when Masaniello ran to them, saying, " Is it me you 
 want, my people? Behold, here I am !" when the contents of 
 four muskets were fired at him. He instantly dropped down, 
 and had just time to say, "Ah ! ungrateful traitors !" and then 
 breathed his last. His head was cut off, placed on a pike, and 
 carried through the streets by the murderers, singing JMasa 
 niello is dead ! The people did not revenge this foul murder. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 67 
 
 The /bve of a populace may be compared to a broken reed ; 
 whoever leans on it is sure of falling. They who once adored 
 him, now saw him dragged through the kennels of the streets, 
 and, at last, thrown into a ditch ! But, the next day, some 
 people went and fetched his body, washed it, and carried it on 
 a bier to the cathedral church of Carmine. At the same time, 
 a young man, called Donneruma, went with a company of men 
 armed, and looked for his head in the Corn Ditch, and having 
 found it, took it where its body was, in order to have them 
 joined together. This being done, a meeting of the people 
 was called, and it was resolved to bury Masaniello with great 
 style, which was accordingly done, in al! the pomp of a great 
 military commander : an instance of popular inconsistency not 
 to be equalled. In three days Masaniello was obeyed like a 
 monarch, murdered like a villain, and revered like a saint ! 
 
 Thus rose and fell Masaniello of Amalphi ! the dread of the 
 Spaniards, the avenger of public oppressions, and the savior 
 of his desolate country. All antiquity cannot furnish us with 
 Buch another example as tbis : and posterity will hardly be- 
 lieve what height of power this ridiculous sovereign arrived to, 
 who, trampling barefoot on a throne, and wearing a mariner's 
 cap instead of a diadem, in the space of four days raised an 
 army of 150,000 men, and made himself master of one of the 
 most populous cities in the world. His orders were without 
 reply ; his decrees without appeal : and the destiny of Naples 
 might be said to depend upon a single motion of his hand ! 
 
 It has been said that two capuchins foretold, when they saw 
 Masaniello in his cradle, that that child should one day come 
 to be the master of Naples, but that his government should be 
 of a short duration. 
 
 THE BROTHERHOOD OF MERCY. 
 
 [From the New Monthly Magazine.] 
 
 Two or three days after my arrival in Pisa, I was talking in 
 the street with an Italian gentleman, when about thirty fellows 
 came round the corner, walking two and two, not soberly, as 
 pious folks move in procession, but with stout manly strides, and 
 wearing a disguise of so uncouth a fashion, that the moment 
 they caught my eye I muttered a " God bless me !" and asked 
 who they were. They were clothed in black sackcloth from 
 
68 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 top 'o toe, girded round the waist: and the hood not only came 
 over the head, but fell before the face down to the breast, with 
 two small peep-holes for the eyes. Each carried a rosary in 
 his hand, and each at his shoulders bore a black broad-brimmed 
 hat. "Bio mene guardi ! ma chi sono questi . ? " My Italian 
 coolly answered, "La Misericordia" Whether, owing to the 
 word misericordia, or to their sackcloth and rosaries, or both, 
 or what, I know not, but without further question I set them 
 down in my mind as penitents on their way to some sort of de- 
 votion ; and very sorry I was they could not be aghast at their 
 own consciences, without wearing so frightful an appearance. 
 
 It happened within a week that a house under repair, on the 
 Lung-Arno, fell down, with the exception of the front Avail, on the 
 workmen, who had incautiously disturbed the foundation. I was 
 on the opposite side of the river, ignorant of what had occasioned 
 the noise and the dense cloud of dust, till the wind slowly waft- 
 ed it away, and the mischief was clear before me. Four were 
 buried in the ruins, and a fifth clung to the wall, with his feet upon 
 the window-sill at the second story, whither he had leaped from 
 the room at the moment of the crash. As soon as the panic would 
 allow any one to act, a long ladder, lying before the house, was 
 raised, and the poor fellow slowly moved from his dangerous 
 situation. As he reached the ground in safety, a loud bell in 
 the city tolled once, then stopped, and tolled again, and I heard 
 the crowd about me say, " Hark ! there is the bell of the Mise- 
 ricordia! they will soon be here!" Those in the neighborhood 
 brought ladders of various sizes, and spades, and pickaxes, to be 
 in readiness. Presently, across the bridge came those black 
 penitents, as I had imagined them, hastening almost at a run, 
 and bearing a litter on their shoulders. The crowd made way 
 for them, and they climbed into the ruins at the back of the 
 house, with the spades and pickaxes. From the moment they 
 came, not a word was spoken ; all was hushed, even the sorrow- 
 ful cries of the relations, waiting for the event. In a short while 
 the Brothers brought out one of the sufferers, insensible and 
 grievously bruised; they placed him in the litter, and bore him 
 to the hospital. By that time a party of soldiers arrived, who 
 kept the crowd back from the front wall, lest that also should 
 fall ; while the Brothers, regardless of the danger, still worked 
 on, and indefatigably. I saw three of the buried workmen 
 brought from the ruin and carried to the hospital ; the fourth 
 was killed, and they bore away his body on a bier. 
 
 After having witnessed this dauntless and persevering con- 
 duct on the part of the Brotherhood of Mercy, I was continually 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 69 
 
 making inquiries about them. I was told it was a very ancient 
 institution, first established in Florence; that the Brothers were 
 very numerous in all the Tuscan cities, and that their duty was 
 to be always ready to succor any person in distress. " Are 
 they priests ?" " No ; only a certain number of priests are per- 
 mitted to join them." " Then it is not a religious establishment ?" 
 " Not at all ; and their charity *s so general, that they would 
 render the same assistance to you, a foreigner and a heretic, as 
 to one of their Catholic citizens. They never inquire into 
 creeds ; it is enough that a fellow being stands in need of their 
 exertions." 
 
 The next time their bell tolled, I hurried from my odgings 
 to attend them on their errand. They walked very fast, and 
 not a word was spoken. At a sign from their chief, the litter 
 from time to time was changed to different shoulders. I follow- 
 ed them to the further end of the city, on the south side of the 
 Arno, and they stopped before a little chapel, where a poor old 
 woman lay on the steps, with her leg broken. The litter, a 
 covered one, was placed on the ground by her side; then, with- 
 out a word, but with the utmost attention and gentleness, they 
 placed her within it, and immediately it was raised again on 
 their shoulders. One of the Brothers asked her some questions 
 in a whisper, and she replied that she felt no pain, but was very 
 faint ; upon which the covering of the litter was pulled up high- 
 er, and as they bore her to the hospital, they stopped two or three 
 times at the turnings of the streets, in order to dispose the cov- 
 ering so as to afford her as much air as possible, and at the 
 same time to shelter her from the sun. Such quiet and unaffect- 
 ed benevolence, such a tender regard for the ease and comfort 
 of this poor woman, showed the Brothers to me in another 
 light; and I was rejoiced to see that their kindness was 
 equal to their heroism. They no longer appeared to me so un- 
 couth; and, as I continued to walk near them, it struck me there 
 was a very benignant expression in a pair of eyes seen through 
 their sackcloth masks. I also observed below their habits, that 
 two of them wore black silk stockings. This rather surprised 
 me ; but I learnt that all ranks of persons are enrolled in the 
 Misericordia, — tradesmen, gentlemen, nobles, and the grand duke 
 himself. 
 
 Not to detain the reader by particularizing a variety of cir- 
 cumstances under which, both in Pisa and Florence, I have 
 watched the prompt attendance of the Brothers, I proceed to give 
 you a short historical account of the institution. This has beeir 
 done, and in the highest terms of praise, by the late Professor 
 
70 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 Pictet, in the " Bibliotheque Universale" for 1822; and it ap- 
 pears he was the first traveler who considered them woithy of 
 such notice. Upon reference to several Italian works, especial- 
 ly to that of Placido Landini, I am sorry to observe many inac- 
 curacies in the professor's account. I shall therefore follow those 
 writers who have derived their information directly from the 
 archives of the establishment ; adding to them what I have learnt 
 through the kindness of several gentlemen, " Capi di Guardi" 
 to the company. 
 
 Those who contend we excel our forefathers in humanity and 
 charity, will be surprised to hear that the Compagnia della 
 Miseric rdia, the most conspicuous, even in the present day, for 
 those virtues, has existed for nearly six hundred years within 
 the walls of Florence. It was established in 1240 ; and its ori- 
 gin was extremely curious. At that period of the Republic, 
 when the citizens were acquiring immense profits from the 
 manufacture of woolen cloth, the city-porters were numerous, 
 and usually took their stand round the church of the Baptistery, 
 near the cathedral. In fact, for the most part they lived there ; 
 and during the intervals of work, they ate their meals and drank 
 their wine, or played at various games, e '-.her on the piazza, or 
 in the sheds erected for their accommodation. One among them, 
 Piero di Luca Boorsi, an old and devout man, was highly scan- 
 dalized at the cursing and swearing of his companions. There- 
 fore, as their elder, he proposed that he who should hereafter 
 take God's or the Virgin's name in vain, should be mulcted to 
 the amount of a crazia (three farthings :) and that the said era- 
 zia should be dropped through a small hole into a certain box, 
 so that an end might be put to such a vain and sinful conversa- 
 tion. To this the porters agreed, and the difficulty of conquer 
 ing a bad habit caused the box to be well nigh filled. Piero 
 then reminded them that, for the benefit of their souls, the con- 
 tents of the box ought to be employed in acts of charity, and 
 made the following proposal : " Let us," said he, " purchase with 
 part of this money six litters, to serve for the six divisions of 
 the city, and let us in turns attend with them. Thus we shall 
 be in readiness to carry to their houses, or to the hospital, all 
 those who may be taken with sudden illness, or who fall from a 
 scaffolding, or otherwise be grievously injured in our streets, and 
 stand m need of their fellow-creatures' assistance ; and we will 
 also carry to the churches the bodies of such as may fall down 
 dead, or be slain, or be drowned; and let us agree that for each 
 several journey of this sort, the porters shall receive a giulio 
 (sixpence) from the box." This not only met with approbation, 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 71 
 
 but each individual took an oath to observe it. Their labors 
 began, and they pursued them with so much diligence and cha- 
 rity, (says their chronicler,) that every man in the city greatly 
 applauded these porters, sometimes offering them three giuli, 
 as a present, for a single journey; but this the old man, Piero ; 
 would not allow, bidding them perform their duty, cheerfully, and 
 without bribes, and to wait for their further reward in eternity. 
 
 Such was the commencement of the Misericordia, a society 
 that has never relaxed in its zeal, through so many centuries, 
 and under all the changes of government. Whatever enemy en- 
 tered Florence, these Brothers and their property were always 
 respected. The French, their last invaders, did more,— they in- 
 trusted them with a set of keys to the city-gates, that they might 
 not be impeded in their labors ; and Napoleon was preparing to 
 establish a similar institution at Paris, when his own downfall 
 put an end to the scheme. 
 
 After Piero's death, the porters were desirous of hiring an 
 apartment, where they might hold the meetings of their new 
 society. For this purpose, as their funds were inefficient, they 
 appealed to their fellow-citizens, and placed at the door of the 
 Baptistery a painting of a dead Christ, with the box at the foot 
 of it, bearing this inscription, — " Fate elemosine per ipoveri in- 
 fer mi e bisognosi dell a citta." It was on a 13th of January, and 
 the people, eager to evince their gratitude, and to encourage 
 them, nocked from all quarters to that church-door, with their 
 alms ; and before the day ended, the box could not contain the 
 offerings, so that the money lay heaped on the lid. From this 
 contribution, more than one apartment was purchased, not hired ; 
 and the porters continued unweariedly in their works of bene- 
 volence, till at the end of a few years the archbishop convened 
 them before him, and blessed them. The benediction was "in 
 honor and glory of the most Holy Virgin, and of St. Peter 
 Martyr, and of St. John the Baptist, and in reverence of St. To- 
 bias, their protector; and masses were ordained, with litanies 
 and prayers, for the souls of all benefactors to the institution." 
 How agreeable to read of an archbishop's exercising his divinity 
 in the cause of humanity. 
 
 The porters would by no means consent to admit the other 
 workmen of the city ; upon which the latter formed a separate 
 society of their, own. They were afterwards united together, 
 under the title of " La Compagnia della Misericordia," on the 
 2d of October, 1423, and governed by eight captains, a notary, 
 and a purveyor. It also appears that during the contentions of 
 the Guelfi and Ghibellini, the society experienced a slight divi* 
 
72 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 sion, which however soon ceased, — a rivalship in deeds of pure 
 good-will could not but allay the fury of party spirit. 
 
 No men ever deserved the gratitude of their country more 
 than these Brothers, for their conduct in the times of the plague. 
 Florence was visited by this scourge no less than eleven times 
 in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. At some of those pe- 
 riods, especially in 1348, as many as six hundred persons died, 
 day after day, within the walls. There is undeniable evidence,* 
 m the archives of the institution, confirming Landini's account 
 of the intrepidity of the Brothers, at every several period when 
 the black banners were unfurled at the " Tribunale di Sanita. r 
 They bore the sick to the hospitals, and the dead to the sepul- 
 chers ; and as they journeyed through the streets, they were pre- 
 ceded by one ringing a bell, warning the people to escape from 
 their approach, lest the infection should be spread by them, while 
 they dared it for the welfare of the community. Notwithstand- 
 ing their exposure to infection, it appears they suffered in a less 
 degree, proportionably to their numbers, than the more cautious 
 citizens. This is a proof that a sound courage is the best pre- 
 servative against the plague, as well as against every other spe- 
 cies of disease; and it gives me pleasure to add, that when the 
 typhus fever raged in Florence, about eight years ago, not one 
 of the Brothers was attacked by it, though they not only remo- 
 ved the sick from their houses, but in many instances attended 
 them as nurses. As an instance of the grateful feelings of the 
 Florentines, we are told that, after the last severe visitation of the 
 plague in 1633, when it came to the turn of the Misericordia to 
 go to the cathedral and render thanks to God, the populace 
 crowded the streets through which they were to pass, and all the 
 bells in the city were ringing, while from every side and from 
 every window there were shouts of " Viva ! viva la Compagnia 
 della Misericordia!" — as if, continues Landini, the health of the 
 citizens, one and all, depended on the charity and diligence of 
 those Brothers. 
 
 The company consists of three orders ; the first in rank is that 
 of the " Capi di Guardia;" their number is 72, of whom 14 are 
 
 * Boccaccio, in the introduction to his Decameron, gives an account of the 
 great plague in 1348, without once alluding to the Society, farther than where 
 he speaks of "lo ajuto d'alcuni portatori,^ and that without a word of com- 
 mend ition. It must be borne in mind that Boccaccio was making out an 
 exaggerated case of distress ; and that it did not suit bis purpose to relieve 
 the mournful coloring of bis picture, intended, by the force of contrast, to 
 give the tales that followed a higher brilliancy. Indeed, the anecdotes he 
 brings forward, are sometimes in contradiction to each other; and he himself, 
 as in his Life of Dante, appears to have considered fables, provided they are 
 interesting, fully as important as facts. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 73 
 
 noble, and 30 are priests, including the grand duke and the arch- 
 bishop. The second order, called " Giornanti," consists of 20 
 priests, and 105 laymen; and the third, the " Stracciafogli," of 
 180, of whom 30 are priests. These, together with the super- 
 numeraries, amount to about 1200. Four " Capi di Guardia" 
 and fifteen " Giornanti" must be in attendance. At the sound 
 of their bell, which can be heard in every part of the city from 
 the top of that beautiful tower designed by Giotto, they never 
 fail in assembling more than a sufficient number of the Brothers. 
 It tolls once for the removal of the sick, twice for a common ac- 
 cident in the streets, and three times for death. A " Stracciafog- 
 lio" is promoted to the honors of a " Giornante," and finally to 
 those of a " Capo di Guardia," in recompense for diligent at- 
 tendance ; and negligence is punished by degradation. There 
 are no fines. It costs about six crowns to be enrolled, in w 7 hich 
 sum is included the purchase of the dress. None are admitted 
 but those of good character, and none who belong to what they 
 term the " arti vili," such as butchers, fishmongers, servants in 
 livery, coachmen, cobblers, sausage-makers, and barbers. We 
 may smile at these exceptions, but let it be remembered we have 
 our own prejudices against surgeons and butchers on a jury ; 
 and that while a tailor is but a ninth part of a man in England, he 
 does not so much as appear in the list of " arti vili" in Tuscany. 
 They hold themselves compelled to attend on any emergency, 
 wherein their offices may be beneficial. Silence and exactness 
 of discipline are strictly enforced on pain of expulsion. They 
 are provided with the apparatus of our English Humane So- 
 ciety. It is their duty to convey the sick to the hospital, oi from 
 one house to another, as they may be required. If they are 
 sent for, as it sometimes happens under peculiar circumstances, 
 to attend the beds of the sick, they watch by them night and day, 
 and perform every office of the kindest nurses; and that with- 
 out respect of persons, for it was not long since that they per- 
 formed this duty towards a Jew. . Should they be witnesses in 
 the houses of the poor, to any painful scene of want, they are 
 permitted to give relief in money out of their own pockets, and 
 this is done to a considerable extent; and they are bound to 
 make a report of the poverty of a sick person, when he is assist- 
 ed by the company from a fund raised by some of the Brothers, 
 who undertake to go about the city, always in their usual dis- 
 guise, with a box to crave alms for the sick poor. As these alms 
 lire divided weekly, and with a certainty against deception, a 
 Florentine, or the stranger within his gates, inclined to be cha- 
 ritable, knows where to lodoe his money to the best purpose. 
 ' 7 
 
74 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 For so many benefits to the public, such constancy, such toil, 
 the rewards, beyond the honor of the Brotherhood, are small. 
 When sick, provided he is a " Capo di Guardia," the stipend is 
 six livres a week : if a " Giornante," only four ; and he is visited 
 by their own physician. Those of the third order have no claim 
 in case of illness; but all are buried at the expense of the com- 
 pany, and they possess a burial ground for themselves, bestowed 
 on them by the government. Their physician has fourteen 
 crowns a year, their secretary sixteen — little more than honorary 
 salaries ; but their actual servants, whose time is fully employed, 
 have sufficient wages for their support. There is also a small 
 dower, should it be demanded, of ten crowns, granted to the 
 daughters of such as have acted for a certain time as. nurses to- 
 the sick. It is prohibited that the Bnpthers should receive any 
 thing, on their own account, from the public, with the single ex- 
 ception of a draught of water. 
 
 In answer to my inquiries respecting their funds, I learned 
 that they have enough, but are by no means rich. Their pro- 
 perty lies in land and houses. 
 
 An abuse, of an aristocratical nature, has crept into the insti- 
 tution since the days of the Republic ; nobles are made " Capi 
 di Guardia," without earning the dignity by diligence. Leo- 
 pold the First frequently slipped on his sackcloth, and bore the 
 litter in his turn among the Brothers. His son, the late Ferdi- 
 nand, and the present Leopold, never paid the company that 
 personal respect. When Leopold the First became Emperor 
 of Germany, he endeavored to establish the Misericordia at 
 Vienna, without success. " La Compagnia della Consolazione," 
 at Rome, is rather a company of guardians and attendants to a 
 hospital ; and among the imitations of the Misericordia in other 
 parts of Italy, its best spirit is lost, while in all the principal 
 towns of Tuscany it exists in the full force of the original in 
 Florence. Tuscans have more humanity, in all the relations of 
 life, than their neighbors ; and in any urgent case, when the 
 delay of a few minutes might be fatal, instead of waiting for the 
 Brotherhood, they render every assistance at the moment. As 
 an instance of this, it was but a few days since that two men 
 nearly lost their lives in saving a girl who had thrown herself 
 into the Arno. Whether a society of the Brotherhood of Mer- 
 cy is necessary in London, or whether it could be established 
 there, are questions not easy to determine. In the first place, 
 Englishmen might object to the disguise, which is necessary to 
 prevent the recognition of friends that would obstruct them in 
 their duty; as well as for the sake of separating everything 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 75 
 
 tending to personal vanity from the pure benevolent feeling. No 
 thanks are here due except to the society in a body. There are 
 no anniversary dinners, no toasts and sentiments with three times 
 three, no blazing accounts in the newspapers of their activity, 
 heroism, and charity. All goes on quietly, modestly. The 
 Brothers know how much they are beloved, and are content 
 without a display of their influence. Every mark of respect is 
 however paid to them ; the military present arms, and indivi- 
 duals take off their hats, whenever they pass the streets. 
 
 PRESERVATION OF GUSTAVUS VASA, KING OF SWEDEN. 
 
 After the death of Steno, the administrator, and the bosom 
 friend of Gustavus, and the consequent murder of the senate, 
 and a price being set on his own head, the future deliverer of 
 Sweden retired to the mountains of Dalecarlia, hoping he might 
 hide himself in the woods with which that country is covered, 
 and imagining that it would not be difficult to stimulate the in- 
 habitants to revolt against the tyrant Christiern, as they had 
 always shown themselves averse to the Danish yoke. At that 
 time there was not one good town in the whole province, and 
 hardly any thing but small villages situated on the border of the 
 forests, or on the banks of lakes and rivers. Some of these viL 
 lages depended on the noblemen of the country, but most belongec 
 to the crown, and were governed by the peasants themselves ; 
 the elders supplying the places of judges and captains. The 
 national government durst not send either troops or garrisons 
 into this province; nor did the kings themselves ever enter it in 
 a legal manner, till they had given pledge to the mountaineers to 
 retain their privileges. On these independent people, therefore, 
 Gustavus placed a firm confidence. 
 
 Disguising himself as a peasant, he set forth on his way to 
 Dalecarlia, accompanied \>y a boor, who was to be his guide. 
 He crossed over the whole country of Suder mania, then passed 
 between Mericia and Westmonia, and after the fatigues of a long 
 and dangerous journey, arrived safe among the mountains. He 
 had no sooner entered the province, than he was abandoned by 
 his guide, who absconded, robbing him of all the money he had 
 provided for his subsistence. He wandered up and down amongst 
 these dreadful deserts, destitute of friends and money, nor daring 
 to own that he was even a gentleman. At length the inhabit- 
 6 
 
76 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 ants, then hardly more civilized than savages, proposed to hiiii 
 to work for his livelihood. To conceal himself from discovery, 
 and to support nature, he accordingly hired himself to labor in 
 he mines at Fahlun, and for a long course of time did he toil in 
 these caverns, and breathe as his common element the air, one 
 respiration of which seemed to bring me the summons of death. 
 
 Near Fahlun, on a little hill, stands a very ancient habitation, 
 of so simple an architecture, that you would have taken it for a 
 hind's cottage, instead of a place that, in times of old, had been 
 the abode of nobility. It consists of a long barn-like structure 
 formed of fir, covered in a strange fashion with scales, and odd 
 ornamental twistings in the carved wood. But the spot was 
 hallowed by the virtues of its heroic mistress, who saved by her 
 presence of mind, the life of the future deliverer of her country. 
 The following are the circumstances alluded to; and most of 
 them were communicated to me under the very roof. 
 
 Gustavus, having, by an evil accident, been discovered in the 
 mines, and after being narrowly betrayed by a Swedish nobleman, 
 bent his course towards this house, then inhabited, by a person 
 of the name of Pearson (or Peterson) whom he had known in 
 the armies of the late administrator. Here, he hoped, from the 
 obligations he had formerly laid on the officer, that he should at 
 least find a safe retreat. Pearson received him with every mark 
 of friendship ; nay, treated him with that respect and submission 
 which noble minds are proud to pay to the truly great, when rob- 
 bed of their external honors. He seemed more afflicted by the 
 misfortunes of Gustavus, than that prince was for himself; and 
 exclaimed with such vehemence against the Danes, that instead 
 of awaiting a proposal to take up arms, he offered, unasked, to 
 try the spirit of the mountaineers; and declared that himself and 
 his vassals would be the first to set an example, and turn out 
 under the command of his beloved general. 
 
 Gustavus was rejoiced to find that he had at last found a man 
 who was not afraid to draw his sword in the defence of his coun- 
 try, and endeavored by the most impressive arguments, and the 
 prospect of a suitable recompense for the personal risks he ran, 
 to confirm him in so generous a resolution. Pearson answered 
 with repeated assurances of fidelity; he named the gentlemen 
 and the leading persons among the peasants whom he hoped to 
 engage in the enterprise. Gustavus relied on his word, and 
 promising not to name himself to any while he was absent, some 
 days afterwards saw him leave the house to put his design in 
 execution. 
 
 It was indeed a design, and a black one. Under the specious 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 77 
 
 cloak of a zealous affection for Gustavus, the traitor was con- 
 triving his ruin. The hope of making his court to the Danish 
 tyrant, and the expectation of a large reward, made this son of 
 Judas resolve to sacrifice his honor to his ambition, and, for the 
 sake of a few ducats, violate the most sacred laws of hospitality, 
 by betraying his guest. In pursuance of that base resolution, 
 he went straight to one of Christiern's officers, commanding in 
 the province, and informed him that Gustavus was his prisoner. 
 Having committed his treachery, he had not courage to face his 
 victim; and telling the Dane how to surprise the prince, who, 
 he said, believing himself to be under the protection of a friend, 
 (shame to manhood, to dare to confess that he could betray such 
 a confidence !) he proposed taking a wider circuit home, while 
 they, apparently unknown to him, rifled it of its treasure. " It 
 will be an easy matter," said he, " for not even my wife knows 
 that it is Gustavus." 
 
 Accordingly, the officer, at the head of a party of soldiers, 
 marched directly to the place. The men invested the house,* 
 while the leader, abruptly entering, found Pearson's wife, ac- 
 cording to the fashion of those days, employed in culinary pre- 
 parations. At some distance from her sat a young man in a rus- 
 tic garb, lopping off the knots from the broken branch of a tree. 
 The officer went up to her, and told her he came in King Chris- 
 tiern's name, to demand the rebel Gustavus, who he knew was 
 concealed under her roof. The dauntless woman never changed 
 color; she immediately guessed the man whom her husband 
 had introduced as a miner's son, to be the Swedish hero. The 
 door was blocked up by soldiers. In an instant she replied 
 without once glancing at Gustavus, who sat motionless with sur- 
 prise, " If you mean the melancholy gentleman my husband has 
 had here these few days, he has just walked out into the wood 
 on the other side of the hill. Some of these soldiers may readily 
 sieze him, as he has no arms with him." 
 
 The officer did not suspect the easy simplicity of her manner ; 
 and ordered part of the men to go in quest of him. At that mo- 
 
 * So 9irongly was I impressed with the history of this great prince, even 
 more invincible in mind than in arms, that I looked on the house which had 
 once sheltered him, and in which female nobleness had also shone so con- 
 spicuously, with a kind of holy veneration. We entered this interesting place 
 attended by an old woman, who lives in an adjoining house, for the purpose 
 of showing strangers this relic of antiquity. The room in which Gustavus 
 slept, with his very bed, is most sacredly preserved. The hero's couch is a 
 huge unwieldy square frame, of common fir, with a straw matress : he had 
 no softer pillow. The present proprietor, a descendant from the fair patriot 
 guards these remains with scrupulous care. Of the authenticity of the ad- 
 venture no doubt can exist ; I had it from the first authority. 
 
 7 # 
 
78 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 ment, suddenly turning her eyes on Gustavus, she flew up to 
 him, and catching the stick out of his hand, exclaimed, in an an- 
 gry voice : " Unmannerly wretch ! What, sit before your betters ? 
 Don't you see the king's officer in the room 1 Get out of my 
 sight, or some of them shall give you a drubbing !" As she 
 spoke, she struck him a blow on the back with all her strength ; 
 and opening a side-door, " there, get into the scullery," cried she, 
 "its the fittest place for such company !" and giving him another 
 knock, she flung the stick after him, and shut the door. " Sure," 
 added she, in a great heat, " never woman was plagued with 
 such a lout of a slave !" 
 
 The officer begged she would not disturb herself on his ac- 
 count : but she, affecting great reverence for the king and respect 
 for his representative, prayed him to enter her parlor while she 
 brought some refreshment. The Dane civilly complied ; per- 
 haps glad enough to get from the side of a shrew ; and she im- 
 mediately hastened to Gustavus, whom she had bolted in, and 
 bv means of a back passage, conducted him in a moment to an 
 out-house, which projecting from the side of the house close to 
 the bank of the lake where the fisher's boats lay, she lowered 
 him down a convenient aperture ; and giving him a direction to 
 an honest curate across the lake, committed him to Providence. 
 
 While he made his way to a boat, unmoored it, and rowed 
 swiftly towards the isles, so hiding himself and his course 
 amongst their mazes; the lady returned to the Dane, Jaden with 
 provisions, and amused him by a well-spread table, till the sol- 
 diers brought back the disappointing intelligence that their 
 search had been fruitless. The observations of the officer, and 
 his new directions, soon apprized the heroic woman of the vile- 
 ness of her husband ; and therefore when he appeared, which was 
 shortly afterwards, even to him she kept true her first statement, 
 that, Gustavus had gone out into the wood. The circumstance 
 of the chastised servant seemed so insignificant to the officer, 
 that, as it had occasioned in him no suspicion, he never men- 
 tioned it. And as guilt easily believes itself suspected, Pearson 
 acknowledged with vexation to the Dane, that he had no doubt 
 Gustavus had suspected his design, being aware, notwithstanding 
 their mutual friendship, of his impregnable fidelity to Christiern 
 (measureless liar !) and had accordingly taken the opportunity 
 of his absence, to escape. As none were in the ladv's confidence, 
 the new retreat of Gustavus remained undiscovered, till assisted 
 by the good curate, and other friends to liberty, he appeared open- 
 ly at the head of the brave Dalecarlians, and gave his country 
 freedom. R. K. Porter's Travels in Sweden and Russia 
 
Gustavus Vasa.— Page 78. 
 ; As she spoke, she struck him a blow on the hack with all her strength." 
 
 Attacking the Vaudois,— Page 84. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 79 
 
 BRAVERY AND SUFFERINGS OF THE VAUDOIS, (WALDENSES.) 
 
 The following account is selected from a very interesting 
 volume, entitled, " The glorious Recovery, by the Vaudois, of 
 their Valleys, from the original, by Henry Arnaud, their Com- 
 mander and Pastor; with a compendious History of that People. 
 By Hugh Dyke Acland." In the preface by the editor, a stri- 
 king resemblance is marked between the exertions of the Vau- 
 dois, and those of the Jews under the Maccabees. In the intro- 
 ductory history, we have an account of those cruel persecutions 
 by the Church of Rome, to which the inhabitants of the valleys 
 of Piedmont were subjected. In the beginning of the fifteenth 
 century, the first persecution occurred, of which their historians 
 have given a very detailed account. The inhabitants in the val- 
 ley of Prajelas were furiously attacked in the depth of winter; 
 and such as escaped the general massacre became victims to the 
 inclemency of the weather, on the lofty mountains to which they 
 fled. Sir Samuel Moreland mentions, that in one morning, eighty 
 mothers with their children were found frozen in the snow. 
 
 After being driven from the valleys by their enemies, they 
 formed the resolution of recovering them; and the following 
 extracts contain a few of the many specimens of those severe 
 sufferings to which they were subjected, — of the singular inter- 
 positions of Providence in their favor, which they experienced, 
 and the prodigies of valor which they displayed. Both the 
 French and the Duke of Savoy's troops were opposed to them. 
 
 Their escape from the French at Rodoret. 
 
 In the mean time, the French were constantly approaching; and 
 the detachments ordered to harass them in their march found 
 that they could no longer resist so great a superiority of num- 
 bers. Retreating with difficulty among the rocks, they joined 
 the main body one evening at Rodoret, while the French, who 
 had taken possession of Salsa, were at a distance of only three 
 leagues over one small mountain. As it was clear that Rodoret 
 was no longer tenable, a council of war was called in the night. 
 
 The danger of the Vaudois, at this moment, may be conceiv- 
 ed from the necessity of having a guard on the Collet, the moun- 
 tain between Salsa and Rodoret, to prevent a surprise during 
 this nocturnal deliberation. 
 
 Much diversity of opinion arose among the deliberators. 
 Some recommended a retreat into the neighborhood of Bobi, 
 
£0 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 *nd others on the side of Angrogna. Neither party was inclin- 
 ed to adopt the opinion of the other ; and in adhering each to 
 his own course, both were on the point of rushing to destruction. 
 
 Mons. Arnaud now came forward, and said that, in such dis- 
 tress they ought to have recourse to God. Prayers were im- 
 mediately and unanimously offered up. Mons. Arnaud then 
 urged on them the absolute necessity of union, and pointed out 
 that neither of the plans proposed was advisable, as the Aiguille, 
 a position necessary in each case, was in the hands of the enemy. 
 He then proposed the Balsi as the post, the occupation of which 
 offered the most advantages. This proposal was instantly agreed 
 to, and as quickly acted upon. 
 
 It was, however, deemed expedient to heighten the entrench 
 ments, on the side jy which the enemy would approach Rodo 
 ret, in order to deceive him into the idea that the Vaudois were 
 still there, and determined on a desperate resistance. This was 
 done in order to gain time on the following morning. 
 
 A great part of the night having been thus occupied, the Vau- 
 dois commenced their march about two hours before daylight; 
 and so intense was the darkness, that, in order to be seen, the 
 guides wore the whitest linen over their shoulders. As Salsa 
 was, of course, to be avoided, their road lay necessarily among 
 frightful precipices ; so that they were constantly obliged to 
 creep on their hands and feet. The confusion consequent on 
 such difficulties offered an opportunity for the remaining hostages 
 to escape, as well it might, when every man had enough to do 
 in taking care of his own neck. Those who have not seen such 
 places can form no notion of the danger, and those who have 
 may be inclined to discredit this statement. It is, nevertheless, 
 perfectly true ; and, moreover, many who performed this dan- 
 gerous exploit, have since visited the scene by day, and were 
 struck with horror at the recollection that they passed in dark- 
 ness over spots which they never would have traversed in light. 
 
 At last the}'- arrived at the Balsi, and took up the position 
 which was called the Castle, in the unalterable resolution to 
 await their enemies with firmness, and no longer encounter the 
 fatigue of running from mountain to mountain. 
 
 In order to maintain this post the more successfully, they im- 
 mediately commenced a regular process of entrenchment. Co- 
 vert ways and walls were constructed, and cabins, to the num- 
 ber of eighty, were dug in the ground, and surrounded with 
 drains. The walls were such as the soil would permit them to 
 make, and backed by a ditch which might assist the defending 
 party in case of a breach. They were seventeen in number, 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 81 
 
 one above the other ; so that when driven from one, they might 
 retreat behind the next; and thus the enemy be compelled to a 
 succession of attacks of the same dangerous nature, even to the 
 summit of the mountain. A guard was mounted every evening, 
 to protect the bridge, the mill, and the entrance of the path to 
 the Balsi. The mill, indeed, was at first of no service, for there 
 was no grinding-stone to it. But two of the Vaudois, natives 
 of the village of Balsi, mentioned that they had thrown it, more 
 than three years before, into the river, saying, at the same time, 
 " that the day may arrive when it will be useful." It was soon 
 recovered from the bed of the Germanesque, and restored to its 
 ancient place, where it performed its proper office during the 
 whole time that the Vaudois maintained themselves in the Balsi. 
 They had another mill at Macelle, half a league from their quar- 
 ters ; but the road to it was exposed ; it was not, therefore, so 
 much used as the other ; yet as one was not altogether sufficient, 
 some persons would run all risks in frequenting it. 
 
 When the enemy arrived at Rodoret, the morning after the 
 nocturnal flight of the Vaudois, he was in no small astonishment 
 at their absence. The French, under the command of Mons. 
 de rOmbraiile, could wot conceive where, nor how, those people 
 had retreated with their ammunition, who had left, as a mark of 
 their late presence, so much bread, wine, chestnuts, and other 
 provisions. They presumed, however, that they should find our 
 little band at Prali, and immediately marched thither. Again 
 disappointed, they remained there some days, and then proceed- 
 ed to occupy the principal posts in the valley of St. Martin, while 
 the duke's forces, according to a concerted plan, took possession 
 of the Col du Julien ; and thus cut off all communication with 
 the valley of Lucerne. 
 
 " Mons. de Catinat, lieutenant-general in the French army, on 
 his return into Piedmont, received orders for the extermination of 
 the Vaudois, with an implied expectation that he would succeed 
 better than Mons. de l'Ombraille, with whose conduct his court 
 was for from satisfied. 
 
 " The recent snows were an obstacle to this purpose, which 
 however, at the beginning of May, the lieutenant-general could 
 no longer defer, on account of his other duties. 
 
 14 Having resolved on making the attempt, he determined tu 
 surround the Vaudois, so that he might annihilate them at one 
 effort. 
 
 " With this view he reconnoitered the position occupied by 
 these people, who are also en lied Barbets. 
 
 " Fie found it was situated in thp - illey of St. Martin, bearing 
 
82 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 the name of the Balsi, near the foot of a line of mountain pro* 
 jecting between the Guignevert, the highest of these alps, on 
 one side, and the Col du Pis on the other. 
 
 " The access to this spot appeared almost impracticable, as it 
 rises in the shape of a cone, and is broken towards the top into 
 distinct rocky points, which serve the purposes of so many forts, 
 the natural strength of which had been increased by intrench- 
 ments. 
 
 " Mons. de Catinat, however, undertook to make himself mas- 
 ter both of the Balsi and the Fortin, for the capture of the one 
 without the other would have been useless, as a secure retreat 
 would still have remained for the Vaudois. 
 
 " In order that the force should be amply sufficient, Mons. de 
 Catinat ordered on the attack, the regiments of the Bourbon, 
 Vexin, Cambresis, Artois, Lasarre, and Duplessis, with the dra- 
 goons of Languedoc, and four hundred Savoyards, furnished by 
 the duke, under the command of Mons. de Rouanette. 
 
 " They were disposed in the following order : 
 
 " The regiments of Cambresis, Vexin, and Duplessis, with 
 the Savoyards, were to attack the Fortin, which communicates 
 with the Balsi by the series of rocky points already mentioned. 
 Mons. de Catinat put himself at the head of the regiments of 
 Bourbon, Artois, and Lasarre, and the dragoons of Languedoc, 
 to carry the Balsi. 
 
 " In order to insure success against the Fortin, it was thought 
 necessary to obtain possession of the heights on either side, viz. 
 the Guignevert on the left, and the Col du Pis on the right. 
 The regiment of Cambresis, with the Savoyards, took to the 
 left, and that of Duplessis to the right. It was with the greatest 
 difficulty that the ascent of the Guignt^ert was effected. The 
 intention was to reach the summit on the morning of the second 
 day, and then to make a simultaneous attack. Bat the fear of 
 the insurmountable difficulties generally produced by night on 
 the side of so precipitous a mountain, induced those employed 
 on this service to make every effort to gain the summit on the 
 first day. Three long leagues of the ascent lay over ground of 
 such a nature that the soldiers could not look back without being 
 giddy; the snow also was so deep that the assistance of the 
 pioneers was at all times necessary. They at length fortunately 
 gained the summit before dark : fortunately, it is said, for imme- 
 diately on their arrival there came on so heavy a snow-storm, 
 and so thick a fog, that had they been still on their march, they 
 would infallibly have perished among the precipices. 
 
 " The idea of this escape was their only consolation in spend 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 83 
 
 ing a night on the top of a frightful mountain, without water, 
 wood, or tents, amidst wind, snow, and hail, which never ceased 
 Thus, on the following morning, the regiment of Cambresi;? 
 and the Savoyards were seen in possession of the Guignevert 
 while those of Vexin and Duplessis occupied the Col du Pis. 
 
 " The two latter were three leagues in advance of Cambresis, 
 and two at least in advance of the Savoyards, who had received 
 orders to take possession of the Pelvou, another horrible moun- 
 tain, as the only passage by which the Vaudois could escape 
 when they should be driven from their hold. This latter event, 
 however, it was soon perceived was much farther off than had 
 oeen expected. 
 
 " Vexin and Duplessis formed, at ten o'clock, in two columns 
 for the attack. For the space of an hour they advanced in good 
 order and abreast ; but at the end of that time, the left column 
 was obliged to remount and join the right, finding progress im- 
 oracticable in its own line. 
 
 " Having surmounted incredible difficulties, they at last ar- 
 rived at the edge of a rock so abrupt that they dared not descend 
 it. At the bottom of this, and at the distance of a musket-shot, 
 was the Fortin, the intervening space, between which and the 
 rock, was intersected by three strong entrenchments. The pio- 
 neers were ordered into the front, and occupied three hours in 
 rendering the approach practicable. This being done, the period 
 had arrived when we thought ourselves secure of the Vaudois. 
 
 " At this instant a fog so dense, and a storm so horrible arose, 
 that a large part of the regiments, including myself and several 
 officers, who had often witnessed the same accidents, at equally 
 critical moments, were convinced that heaven took a visible in- 
 terest in the preservation of this little people. This circum- 
 stance now declared in their favor, as the attack was immedi- 
 ately abandoned ; both French and Savoyards expecting to be 
 swallowed up in the ravines and lavanges. In fact a retreat 
 was effected by them almost by miracle, across frightful precipi- 
 ces, leaping from rock to rock during three hours, and sometimes 
 up to the arms in snow for half an hour together. 
 
 " In the attack below on the Balsi, the French met with worse 
 success; for hardships and fright were the only penalties in 
 the one case, but in the other these served only as appendages 
 to ruin and slaughter. 
 
 " On hearing the firing from above, which was to serve as a 
 signal for the attack on his side, Mons. de Catinat ordered the 
 grenadiers of Lasarre, Bourbon, and Artois, in front. 
 
 " Notwithstanding the extreme strength of the Balsi, there is 
 
84 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 aii approach of about two hundred paces, though so steep and 
 uneven that it is difficult to stand on. The difficulty of ascend- 
 ing under a tremendous fire may be conceived. The French, 
 however, effected this with their customary gallantry, without 
 being alarmed at the heavy fall of dead and wounded comrades, 
 over whom they had to march. But when they were so close 
 to the palisades as to lay hold of them, showers of stones were 
 hurled on them, which, in addition to the injury they inflicted, 
 blockaded up the little room which was left for passing. 
 
 " The assailants were compelled to abandon their enterprise, 
 which they did with their usual precipitation, when once over* 
 taken by fear. The Vaudois now made a terrible carnage, kill- 
 ing two hundred of our soldiers, besides about twenty officers. 
 The Marquis de Brae, colonel of Lasarre, was wounded, but 
 not dangerously, and Mons. de Parat, lieutenant-colonel of Ar- 
 tois, was wounded and made prisoner. He had advanced too 
 far in front, by way of atonement for taking up his position too 
 late. Two sergeants, worthy of immortal praise, failing in an 
 attempt to carry him off, remained with him, preferring every 
 danger to the desertion of their officer. The Vaudois, contrary 
 to their custom, have treated the lieutenant-colonel well : the)r 
 have allowed a surgeon to go to his assistance, and his servant 
 to wait on him. This throws doubt on a subsequent report 
 that they destroyed the sergeants, whose fidelity, doubtless, de- 
 served a better fate. 
 
 '* Such is the result of this famous attack, so long projected, 
 and which was to have ended in the destruction of all the Barbets, 
 who would have been hung before the expiration of six hours. 
 An opposite effect has been produced: for so inflated are these 
 people by their success, that they have presumed to make a sor- 
 tie on our rear-guard, in which they effected some slaughter 
 during our retreat from the mountain. It is said that about 
 twenty of them fell by an ambuscade ; but this does not seem 
 likely." 
 
 Mons. de Feuquieres finding the continual fire of musketry 
 had no other effect than to waste powder and ball, completed the 
 batteries which had been commenced on the Guignevert. He 
 then planted afresh a white flag, which was immediately re- 
 placed by a red one ; thus intimating that when the batteries had 
 once been opened, no quarter was to be expected ; and when he 
 found that even these extremities did not shake the constancy of 
 the Vaudois, he ordered every thing to be ready for a general 
 assault. 
 
 Before daybreak, on the 13th of May, a body of the enemy 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. »5 
 
 had taken up a position on the higher part of the toirent, under 
 cover of the rocks, but were exposed to a continual skirmish, 
 which did not cease till night, when the position was given up. 
 Another party, however, succeeded in constructing parapets on 
 a point which commanded the highest outpost of the Vaudois; 
 whence they threw hand-grenades, which only wounded one 
 soldier. In the mean time, the cannon played briskly on a sort 
 of ravelin, which, being composed of nothing but dry wall, was 
 quickly knocked to pieces. 
 
 The 14th of May was the day appointed for the grand attack; 
 and although Messieurs de Catinat and de l'Ombraille had boast- 
 ed that the Vaudois should be subdued without the expense of a 
 single pound of powder, yet the battery never ceased to play 
 from daybreak till noon ; when the walls of the Vaudois, made 
 only to resist musketry, were in a state of utter destruction. As 
 soon as the enemy perceived the effect of their cannon, they de- 
 termined on making the assault in three separate parties. The 
 efforts of the Vaudois to repel them were in vain. An over- 
 whelming force continued to advance, in spite of a heavy fire 
 and continued showers of stones. The Vaudois were compelled 
 to desert the Castle, and retreat to an intrenchment called the 
 Cheval la Bruxe; in doing which they were exposed to the fire 
 of a redoubt which had been raised above the torrent, the effect 
 of which was fortunately neutralized by a fog. They were obli- 
 ged to inform Mons. de Parat, (one of the hostages,) that if they 
 were again forced, his end was inevitable. He replied, " I for- 
 give you my death ;" and, being shortly afterwards abandoned 
 by his guard, he was shot in the head by one of the rear of the 
 fugitives. Some sick and wounded soldiers, and one who rash- 
 ly returned to take possession of Mons. de Parat's effects, were 
 made prisoners. The means of escape now alone occupied the 
 thoughts of the Vaudois ; but, even here, the difficulties appear- 
 ed insuperable. They were surrounded on every side by the 
 enemy, who stationed guards over all the passes, and kept up so 
 large fires as to diminish the darkness of night ; the duration 
 of which, was, in any event, insufficient for the purpose. 
 
 At this moment, when death was staring them in the face, the 
 hand of God was once more apparent in their assistance, by enve- 
 loping them in the darkness of a mist, which enabled them, with 
 a native of Balsi for their guide, to attempt their escape undis- 
 covered. 
 
 Having accurately examined, by the light of the fires, the 
 position of each guard, Captain Poulat, the guide alluded to, of 
 fered to conduct them down a ravine full of frightful precipices 
 
 8 
 
66 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 Sliding on their backs, and hoildng on by the bushes, they fol- 
 lowed their conductor, who first felt with his hands and feet for 
 spots which could be rested on with safety. They all followed 
 his example, without shoes, alike for sake of silence and secu- 
 rity of footing. 
 
 In this manner they passed close to one of the enemy's pic- 
 quets, which was at that moment going the rounds. At the same 
 instant, a soldier, who had a kettle with him, was obliged to use 
 both hands to save himself from falling. The kettle tumbled 
 over the rocks, and alarmed a French sentry, who immediately 
 challenged with a "qui vive." But the kettle, by good fortune, 
 was not of that poetical family which are reported to have spoken 
 and delivered oracles in the forest of Dodona. It gave no an- 
 swer, therefore, and the sentry continued his rounds without re- 
 peating his " qui vive." The Vaudois proceeded silently on 
 their flight, and two hours after daybreak were discovered, as 
 they were ascending the Guignevert by steps which they cut 
 in the snow, by a party of the enemy stationed on the Balsi. 
 
 As the capture of the besieged, not of the Balsi, was the sole 
 end which Mons. de Feuquieres had in view, and as he hoped 
 by this means to contrast his own success to the recent failure of 
 Mons. de Catinat, his disappointment may be conceived, when, 
 on entering the last intrenchment, he found nothing but poor and 
 empty barracks, and the naked points of rocks ; which, from 
 their number and shape, have given rise to the name of " the 
 Mountain of Four Teeth." 
 
 The following short account of the escape of the Vaudois ap- 
 peared at Turin : 
 
 " The French have driven the Huguenots from their forts, 
 who fled the night after their intrenchments were destroyed by 
 the cannon. They defiled between two divisions, over places so 
 steep that no guard had been appointed to watch them, it being 
 thought impossible for men to pass over them. They served 
 one another for bridges, and have since appeared in the valley 
 of Luzerne. The lieutenant-colonel was found recently put to 
 death." 
 
 The disappointment of the French was imbittered by the fact, 
 chat the day before the attack, they had proclaimed, with the 
 sound of the trumpet, that all who wished to witness the end of 
 the Vaudois should come to Pignerol on the morrow, where the 
 Vaudois would be hung two by two: but, alas! this promised 
 spectacle was changed to the mortifying one of the arrival of 
 many wagons full of their own wounded. 
 
 Let us now return to our fugitives, w r ho had lost in this affair 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 87 
 
 six killed, besides the wounded. One of the former, Jacques 
 Peyran, was, in the first instance, taken alive, and then burnt 
 over a slow fire, by order of Mons. de Feuquieres, for the pur- 
 pose of making him discover the direction in which the Vaudois 
 intended to retreat. 
 
 As soon as they were discovered on the Guignevert, a strong 
 detachment was dispatched in pursuit of them. They descend- 
 ed, however to the neighborhood of Salsa, where they halted to 
 recruit themselves, as they did also at Rodoret. As they left 
 the latter place to ascend the Galmon, the enemy appeareo in 
 sight. They passed in review on the summit of that mountain, 
 and sent the sick and wounded to Balma, at the head of the val- 
 ley of Rodoret, under the care of Mons. de Parat's surgeon ; 
 such as were most slightly wounded acting as guards. They 
 then descended rapidly in the direction of Prali, and gained the 
 wood of Serrelimi, with the intention of concealing themselves 
 till night-fall; a fog, however, arising, they took advantage of it 
 (o continue their march, and mounted to some huts called La 
 Majere, which their fatigue prevented them from reaching till 
 night, though the distance was only a quarter of a league. Here 
 they could find no water ; but Heaven, as though in compassion 
 for them, sent an abundant rain, which in this instance was a 
 source of much relief to them as it had often been of inconve- 
 nience. 
 
 The following morning, having carefully extinguished their 
 fires, lest they should betray them to the enemy's sentries on the 
 Galmon, they continued their rout to Prajet, where they halted 
 to offer up prayers. Some scouts, who had been sent to observe 
 the motions of the enemy, reported his advance in their imme- 
 diate direction. The mists, which seemed appointed for their 
 assistance, again favored their flight. 
 
 During the intervals of clear weather, the Vaudois couched 
 upon the ground, till intervening heights concealed them from 
 those of the Serre du Galmon. 
 
 They now entered a. country replete with difficulties, and 
 having passed by the White Rock, descended, at midnight, to 
 Fayet, overwhelmed with fatigue; having traversed passes, where 
 it was frequently necessary to support themselves by the branches 
 of trees hanging over the precipices which opposed their pro* 
 gress. 
 
 On the morning of the 17th, as soon as they reached Riou* 
 claret, they discovered that the enemy was on their track. They 
 then bent in the direction of Angrogna, with a view of obtaining 
 provisions. As they passed near Pramol, they received inform 
 
88 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 ation of a large quantity of cattle. They separated into three 
 detachments ; and while one secured the cattle which had de- 
 scended to the village of Rua, the other two attacked a party 
 of the enemy which was intrenched in the cemetery of the 
 church. The intrenchments were immediately carried; and 
 Moris, de Vignaux, who commanded, was made prisoner, with 
 three lieutenants, who were wounded. Mons. de Vignaux, when 
 he surrendered his sword to Mons. Arnaud, showed him an or- 
 der, by which he was expressly forbidden to abandon that post, 
 and informed him, at the same time, that his royal highness was 
 called on to determine, before the following Tuesday, whethei 
 he would embrace the side of France or the allies. 
 
 In addition to the prisoners mentioned, the enemy lost fifty- 
 seven dead on the field in this action, and had the mortification 
 to see the village burnt. The Vaudois lost three killed and 
 three wounded, besides a woman, who met her fate in attempt 
 ing to light some straw, in order to smoke the enemy out of the 
 church. 
 
 After this affair, the Vaudois descended to the village of Hu- 
 miau, about half a league off. 
 
 On the next day, Sunday, while foraging on the mountain of 
 Angrogna, they were joyfully surprised by the sight of the Sieurs 
 Parander and Bertin, as envoys of Mons. le Baron de Palavicin, 
 to announce to them the offer of peace from his royal highness. 
 This offer was attended with an immediate supply of provisions. 
 On descending to the Pra del Tor, they were met by two oilier 
 messengers from Mons. de Chevalier de Vercillis, who express- 
 ed a wish on his part to communicate with some of their officers. 
 An answer was immediately returned, that if he would come 
 to the place where they then were, some of their people should 
 meet him. 
 
 This opportunity was taken to request Mons. de Palavicin to 
 send a surgeon, to dress the wounds of the three lieutenants who 
 had been made prisoners at Pramol. 
 
 In the joyful expectation of perfect peace with their sovereign, 
 the Vaudois encamped, on the 19th of May, on the alp of la 
 Buffe ; they were disappointed, however, by Mons. le Chevalier 
 de Vercillis, who did not keep his appointment. 
 
 The booty, consisting of cows, sheep, and goats, was divided, 
 and part sold, the produce being divided among the soldiers. 
 
 The surgeon, whose attendance Mons. de Vignaux had re- 
 quired, now arrived, and after having dressed the wounded, 
 wished to return ; but he was given to understand that he must 
 remain, according to an agreement with the other officers, until 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 89 
 
 the latter were exchanged against those Vaudois whose liberty 
 had been demanded as the price of Mons. de Parat's ransom. 
 
 They now remained till the 24th without bread ; during which 
 time a Vaudois shot a partridge with a single ball, which, being 
 dressed on a stone, was presented to the four captured officers. 
 
 Just as tney were beginning to despair for want of bread, the 
 Sieurs Parander and Bertin re-appeared, and required forty or 
 fifty men to attend them to the farm of Mons. Gautier, brother- 
 in-law to Mons. Arnaud, where this necessary article would be 
 given' to them. 
 
 Mons. Arnaud immediately ordered a detachment, under the 
 command of two captains, on this acceptable service. But as 
 the Vaudois were not yet relieved from the suspicions which 
 had, by a long course of treachery, been made inherent in them, 
 orders were given that five men only should enter in the first 
 place, and make a thorough search, while the remainder acted 
 as a guard without; that ten, and then a greater number, should 
 follow, till all the bread was removed. 
 
 The French, who were now the only enemies of the Vaudois, 
 sent a detachment to take up a position below the Pra de Tor, 
 and another to occupy the Vendelin, a mountain above the town 
 of La Tour. The Vaudois also formed into two detachments 
 to observe those of the enemy. In a skirmish in the neighbor- 
 hood of La Tour, the French suffered a partial loss, but on the 
 Vendelin the affair assumed a much more serkms tone. The 
 French having occimied one height, the Vaudois took posses- 
 sion of another, ana leaving a dozen musketeers to amuse the 
 enem^r, by occasional discharges, took advantage of a fog, to sur- 
 prise him in the rear ; which they did so effectually, as to put 
 the whole detachment to the sword, excepting twelve, who, roll- 
 ing themselves over the snow into the valley, escaped, mutilated 
 and disarmed, and carried the news of the defeat to Pignerol. 
 The two detachments of the Vaudois now united and ascended 
 higher among the mountains, intending to halt at the Jasses ; 
 but finding themselves observed by another body of the French, 
 and impeded by the wounded, especially the prisoners, they halt- 
 ed at Balmadaut. 
 
 On the following day, as they were eating violet soup and 
 wild sorrel, they perceived the enemy approaching: they were 
 engaged the whole of this day in different places, for the French, 
 enraged at having missed them at the Balsi, had detached forces 
 on every side in order eventually to exterminate them. 
 
 Mons. de Clerembaut, colonel of the regiment of that name, 
 ignorant of the truce between the duke an' 3 the Vaudois. march' 
 7 R* 
 
90 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 ed with a parly into La Tour, where he was not a little surpri* 
 sed at finding- himself taken prisoner, and, as such, conducted to 
 his royal highness. 
 
 Four or five days now elapsed without any event, at the end 
 of which the Vaudois had the consolation to receive a letter 
 written by the Baron de Palavacin to the governor of Mirabouc, 
 commanding him to permit the Vaudois to pass and repass at 
 their pleasure. They were also rejoiced by the return of some 
 parties whom they had given up for lost, especially one of sixty 
 men which, as has been mentioned, had left the Balsi during the 
 siege, to meet a promised reinforcement in the valley of Perouse. 
 
 This detachment, after concealing itself during several days, 
 and marching only by night, was on the point of returning to 
 the Balsi, when it received the news of its fall. It retreated 
 among the woods, and compelled the peasants to furnish subsist- 
 ence by the threat of burning their villages, a penalty which 
 had been actually inflicted on Bourset. Among those who were 
 now restored to their countrymen was a private, still living, 
 whose adventures deserve to be related. 
 
 He was slightly wounded in the thigh, and being in want of 
 dressings, had leave to accompany three men who were sent 
 into the valley of Perouse to obtain provisions. The Clusone, 
 then full and rapid, was to be forded ; this was safely done by 
 the other three ; but the wounded man, on approaching the mid- 
 dle of the torrent, found himself unequal to stem it. He returned 
 to the bank he had left and was totally destitute. For seventeen 
 days he concealed himself, and dragged himself from bush to 
 bush, and from rock to rock, during as many nights. • 
 
 In the mean time, he healed his wound simply by washing it, 
 a cure partly occasioned by his living on violets and other raw 
 herbs. 
 
 In this famished state he raised two wolves' cubs ; hunger 
 stimulated him to the chase, and he had the good fortune to strike 
 one of them down with a stick. He immediately devoured part 
 of it raw, and would have eaten the rest had he not been thus suf- 
 ficiently refreshed to gain Bobi, where he brought the cub's head 
 with him. Thus the expression of the Sieur Banqui, syndic of 
 Luzerne, on occasion of the defeat of the soldiers at Vachere, 
 during the massacre of 1655, was literally verified. It is thus 
 related by Leger. On seeing the quantity of dead and wound- 
 ed that were brought in, the syndic observed, " Altre volte li 
 h/pi mangiavano li barbetti, ma il tempo e venuto che li bar- 
 betti mangiano i lupi :" " Formerly the wolves ate the do&.s, 
 but the time is come when the dogs eat the wolves," 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. (H 
 
 From the statements of some of the wanderers, it appeared 
 that the force brought against the Balsi in the last attack, amount- 
 ed to twelve thousand regulars, and one thousand four hundred 
 peasants. 
 
 THE GREAT PLAGUE IN LONDON. 
 
 The year 1665 is memorable in London from the direful 
 ravages of the great plague, which first broke out at a house in 
 Long Acre, near Drury Lane, in the parish of St. Giles in the 
 Fields, whither goods had been imported from the Levant. 
 
 On the first rumor, therefore, of the plague having broken 
 out in Long Acre, about the beginning of December, and that 
 two persons, said to be Frenchmen, had died of it in one house, 
 the secretary of state ordered the bodies to be inspected by two 
 physicians and a surgeon ; and on their report, it was inserted 
 in the weekly bill of mortality, that two persons were dead of 
 this disorder. This occasioned considerable alarm throughout 
 the metropolis ; aryi the death of another man of the plague in 
 the same house where it bad first appeared, in the last week of 
 December, increased the apprehensions that were already enter- 
 tained. 
 
 The prevalence of a frost, attended by winds, checked the 
 mortality till the months of April and May, when a gradual in- 
 crease of deaths by the plague was returned in the bills, and 
 particularly within the parish of St. Giles. During the last two 
 weeks of May, and the first week of June, the disorder spread 
 in a dreadful manner : whole streets were infested with it, and, 
 though many arts were employed to conceal its ravages, apprehen- 
 sion and dismay spread over the metropolis. In the second 
 week in June, the deaths greatly increased : in St. Giles's parish, 
 where its strength yet lay, about one hundred died of the plague; 
 but, within the city walls, only four were enumerated. 
 
 About this time his majesty, with his whole court, departed 
 for Oxford, where they continued till after Christmas: leaving 
 the chief weight and direction of the capital, in this most calam- 
 itous era, to the Duke of Albemarle, and Sir John Lawrence, 
 1 London's generous Mayor." 
 
 In June and July the infection spread rapidly, and consterna- 
 tion and horror dwelt in every bosom. AH whose circumstan- 
 ces or duties would permit, quitted the metropolis, and the 
 roads were thronged with multitudes hastening from the scene 
 
92 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 of death. From the parishes of St. Giles, Westminster, St 
 Martin, and St. Andrew, the disorder passed eastward on the 
 outskirts of the city to Clerkenwell, Cripplegate, and Shore- 
 ditch ; where the crowded habitations of the poor and laboring 
 classes offered a full prey to its ravages. 
 
 During the month of August, the infection greatly extended 
 its ravages, and, though every precaution that prudence and 
 skill could suggest, was taken to prevent its spreading, it now 
 began to rage with considerable violence, even within the city 
 itself. All trade, but for the immediate necessaries of life, was 
 at an end ; the streets were deserted of passengers, every place 
 of diversion was closed, and assemblies of whatever kind, except 
 for the celebration of prayer and divine worship, were strictly 
 prohibited. 
 
 In the last week of August, that is, from the twenty-second 
 to the twenty-ninth, and whilst the city was as yet comparatively 
 free, the number of deaths by the plague was recorded in the 
 bills at 7496. It should be remembered too, that this was at a 
 time when nearly 200,000 persons are thought to have previous- 
 ly quitted the metropolis. The dead augmented beyond the 
 means of enumeration, the churchyards were no longer capa- 
 ble of receiving the bodies, and large open spaces, on the out- 
 skirts of the metropolis, were appropriated for the purpose. 
 " Whole families, and, indeed, whole streets of families, were 
 swept away together, insomuch, that it was frequent for neigh- 
 bors to call to the bellman to go to such and such houses, and 
 fetch out the people, for that they were all dead." 
 
 The grave was now a " yawning abyss :" deeper and more 
 extensive pits were dug, and the rich and the poor, the young 
 and the aged, the adult and the child, were all promiscuously 
 thrown headlong together into one common receptacle. By day, 
 the streets presented a most frightful aspect of desolation and 
 misery; and at night, the dead carts, moving with slow pace by 
 torchlight, and with the appalling cry, "bring out your dead /" 
 thrilled horror through every heart that was not hardened, by 
 suffering, to calamity. 
 
 In the first three weeks of September, the numbers returned 
 dead in the bills amounted to upwards of 24,000 ; a most fright- 
 ful aggregate in itself, yet a most imperfect one in respect to the 
 actual number that fell victims to the plague alone, within that 
 period. Many of the searchers and other officers, whose duties 
 enjoined them to make the returns, acknowledged their incor« 
 rectness ; and many more, before they could give in their lists, 
 were themselves numbered with "those that were" The more 
 
Plague in London.— Page 92. 
 
 Great Fire in London,— Page 95. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 93 
 
 probable calculation is, that at this time not fewer than 10,000 
 persons, weekly, were carried off by the infection itself, without 
 enumerating those who died by the different disorders which it 
 generated, or of which it increased the malignancy. " Now, it 
 was indeed a dismal time," says de Foe, " and for about a month 
 together, not taking any notice of the bills of mortality, I believe 
 there did not die less than 1500 or 1700 a day, one with a 
 another." 
 
 In the last week of September, the pestilence began to abate 
 its virulence ; for, though more persons were now sick than at 
 any former period, the number of dead returned in the weekly 
 bill had decreased upwards of 1800, viz. from 8,279 to 6,460. 
 
 Another week succeeded, and the deaths were still found to 
 lessen ; a third passed, and the trembling confidence of the multi- 
 tude was fixed in certainty. " The destroying angel" was in- 
 deed " stayed;" and, though the number " hearsed in the death" 
 in the second week in October, amounted to upwards of 5000, 
 yet the decrease was so great, that joy once more was seen to 
 spread itself over the metropolis. 
 
 From this period till the end of October, every week's ac- 
 count showed that the infection had lost much of its malignancy ; 
 for though considerable numbers still died, the instances of con- 
 valescence were so numerous, that many thousands of those 
 whom apprehension had driven from their homes, now daily re- 
 turned in the full assurance of security. The conduct which 
 this feeling inspired, merged into rashness ; even the limited sug- 
 gestions of common prudence were despised, and the healthy 
 associated with the diseased, as if the contagion had no power to 
 excite alarm. Through this imprudence, the deaths in the first 
 week in November increased about 400, and " there were more 
 people infected and fell sick now, when there did not die above 
 1000 or 1200 in a week, than there was when there died four 
 or six thousand in a week ; and the physicians had more work 
 than ever, only with this difference, that more of their patients re- 
 covered; that is to say, they generally recovered." 
 
 During the eight weeks, beginning with the eighth of Au- 
 gust, and ending with October the tenth, when the mortality 
 was at its greatest height, the number of deaths returned in the 
 bills of mortality amounted to 59,870 ; of these 49,705 were re- 
 corded under the head, Plague. It must be evident, however, 
 from what has been said above, that nearly the whole of this 
 melancholy aggregate ought to be referred to the infection, as 
 the average of deaths from other causes would not have amount- 
 ed to 2,300 within the time mentioned. The entire number 
 
94 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 returned in the bills, as having died of the plague within the 
 year, was 68,590 ; yet there can be no doubt that this total was 
 exceeded by many thousands who fell by the infection, but 
 whose deaths were not officially recorded. 
 
 The general manner in which the pestilence affected its vic- 
 tims, was by fevers, vomiting, head-ache, pains in the back, and 
 tumors, or swelling in the neck, groin, and armpits, accompanied 
 by inflammation and gangrene. In the height of the disease, the 
 deaths occurred within two or three days after the patient was 
 taken ill ; and sometimes within three, four, or six hours, where 
 the plague spots, or tokens, as they were called, had shown them- 
 selves without previous illness. In a few instances, the same 
 person had the distemper twice. The violence of the pain aris- 
 ing from the swellings frequently occasioned delirium ; and 
 where the tumors could not be maturated, death was inevitable. 
 In the milder stages of the contagion, the deaths did not occur 
 for eight or ten days ; and when the disease was subsiding, the 
 patient was relieved by profuse sweats, and the swellings dis- 
 persed or broke, without exciting that insufferable torment 
 which had proved so destructive. 
 
 The dead-carts, as they were emphatically called, appear to 
 have been first employed about the month of July, when all the 
 common ceremonies of interment were obliged to be dispens- 
 ed with, through the dreadful augmentation in the number of the 
 deceased. These carts were not confined to any particular pa- 
 rish or district, but went their rounds nightly, to collect the dead 
 wherever their services were required ; and when, in the opinion 
 of the " buriers," a sufficient load was heaped up, such load 
 was drawn to the most covenient or nearest pit, and there thrown 
 in as hastily as possible ; sometimes immediately from the cart, 
 and sometimes by means of long hooks, made like a shepherd's 
 crook, with which the bodies were dragged out. From the 
 narrow lanes and alleys, where the carts could not enter, the 
 bodies were carried to the carts on a kind of hand-barrow, by 
 the buriers, whose chief precaution against catching the infection 
 themselves, was the free use of rue, garlic, tobacco, and vinegar. 
 These, however, were ineffectual preservatives in most instances, 
 yet the extreme misery and want that reigned among the poor, 
 produced a constant succession of persons ready to undertake 
 the dangerous office. 
 
 In the delirium, which the pain of the disorder often produ- 
 ced, many committed suicide, chiefly by drowning; many also 
 died of mere fright, and others of anguish of mind, at the loss 
 of their dearest relative? Child-bed women suffered farticu- 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 larly, the number of those who died in the course of the year, 
 amounting to more than three times as many as were returned 
 in the bills during the preceding twelve months. 
 
 The stoppage of public business, in the height of the conta- 
 gion, was so complete, that grass grew within the very area of 
 the exchange, and even in the principal streets of the city. All 
 the inns of court were shut up, and all law proceedings sus- 
 pended. Neither cart nor coach was to be seen from morning 
 till night, except those employed in the conveyance of provisions, 
 in the carriage of the infected to the pest-houses, or other hos- 
 pitals, and a few coaches used by the physicians. 
 
 The survivors were struck with the dreadful apprehension, 
 that in a few days the living would not be sufficient to bury the 
 dead; in this, however, they were happily mistaken, for the con- 
 tagion gradually diminished, having swept away, according to 
 Lord Clarendon, who thought the computation underrated, 
 160,000; though Dr. Hodges collected from the bills of mor- 
 tality only 68,596. 
 
 Since this dreadful period, the plague has entirely ceased in 
 London ; a circumstance that must be regarded as the more re- 
 markable, when reference is made to the yearly bills of mor- 
 tality, for nearly all the preceding part of the century. It will 
 be seen from them, that scarcely a year passed without some 
 persons falling victims to the infection ; and that in 1609 and 
 1647, the numbers were respectively as high as 4,240, and 3,597; 
 without distinguishing those years when the pestilence raged 
 with violence. 
 
 GREAT FIRE IN LONDON, IN 1666. 
 
 1666. 2d Sept. — This fatal night, about ten o'clock, began 
 Jiat deplorable fire near Fish-street, in London. 3d Sept. — 
 The fire continuing, after dinner, I took coach with my wife, 
 and went to the bank-side in Southwark, where we beheld that 
 dismal spectacle, the whole city in dreadful flames near the 
 water-side ; all the houses from the bridges, all Thames-street, 
 and upwards towards Cheapside, down to the Three Cranes, 
 were now consumed. The fire having continued all this night, 
 (if I may call that night which was as light as day for ten 
 miles roundabout, after a dreadful manner !) when conspiring 
 with a fierce eastern wind in a very dry season ; I went on 
 foot to the same place, and saw the whole south part of the 
 
96 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 city burning from Cheapside to the Thames, and all along 
 Cornhill, (for it kindled back against the wind as well as for- 
 ward,) Tower-street, Fenchurch-street, Gracious-street, and so 
 along to Bainard's Castle, and was now taking hold of St. 
 Paul ; s Church, to which the scaffolds contributed exceedingly. 
 The conflagration was so universal, and the people so as- 
 tonished, that, from the beginning, I know not by what de- 
 spondency or fate, they hardly stirred to quench it ; so that 
 -Jiere was nothing heard or seen but crying out and lamenta- 
 tion, running about like distracted creatures, without at all at- 
 tempting to save even their goods, such a strange consterna- 
 tion there was upon them ; so as it burned, both in breadth and 
 length, the churches, public halls, exchange, -hospitals, monu- 
 ments, and ornaments, leaping, after a prodigious manner, from 
 house to house, and street to street, at great distances one from 
 the other ; for the heat, with a long set of fair and warm weather, 
 had even ignited the air, and prepared the materials to conceive 
 the fire, which devoured, after an incredible manner, houses, fur- 
 niture, and every thing. Here we saw the Thames covered with 
 goods floating, all the barges and boats laden with what some 
 had time and courage to save ; as, on the other, the carts, &c, 
 carrying out to the fields, which for many miles were strewed 
 with movables of all sorts, and tents erecting to shelter both 
 people and what goods they could get away. Oh ! the miser- 
 able and calamitous spectacle, such as haply the world had not 
 seen the like since the foundation of it, nor be outdone till the 
 universal conflagration ! All the sky was of a fiery aspect, like 
 the top of a burning oven. The light seen above forty miles 
 round about for many nights. God grant my eyes may never 
 oehold the like, now seeing above 10,000 houses all in one 
 flame — the noise and cracking and thunder of the impetuous 
 flames — the shrieking of women and children — the hurry of 
 people — the fall of towers, houses, and churches, was like a 
 hideous storm ; and the air all about so hot and inflamed, that 
 at last one was not able to approach it : so that they were 
 forced to stand still and let the flames burn on, which they did 
 for near two miles in length and one in breadth. The clouds 
 of smoke were dismal, and reached upon computation, near 
 fifty miles in length. Thus I left it this afternoon burning, a 
 resemblance of Sodom or the last day. London was, but is no 
 more! 4th Sept. — The burning still rages, and it is now 
 g-otten as far as the Inner Temple, all Fleet-street, the Old 
 Bailey, Ludgate-hill, Warwick-lane, Newgate, Paul's Chain, 
 Watling-street, now flaming, and most of it reduced to ashes. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 97 
 
 The stones of St. Paul's flew like granadoes, iij iie^ifif; >ead 
 running down the streets in a stream, and the '■■•iy pavements 
 glowing with fiery redness, so as no horse or man was able 
 *o tread on them; and the demolition had stopped all the pas- 
 sages, so that no help could be applied. The eastern wind still 
 more impetuously drove the flames forward. Nothing but the 
 almighty power of God was able to stop them, for vain was the 
 help of man. 5th Sept. — It crossed towards White hall. Oh 
 the confusion there was then at the court ! It pleased his 
 majesty to command me, among the rest, to look after the 
 menching of Fetter-lane, and to preserve, if possible, that part 
 of Holborn, whilst the rest of the gentlemen took their several 
 posts, (for now they began to bestir themselves, and not till now, 
 who hitherto had stood as men intoxicated, with their hands 
 across,) and began to consider that nothing was likely to put a 
 stop but the blowing up of so many houses as might make a 
 Wfder gap than any had yet been mack) by the ordinary method 
 of pulling them down with engines: this some stout seamen 
 proposed eariy ^no'ip'^ to have saved near the whole city, but 
 this some tenacious and avaricious men, aldermen, &c, would 
 not permit, because their houses must have been of the first. 
 It was therefore now commanded to be practiced ; and my con- 
 cern being particularly for the Hospital of St. Bartholomew, 
 near Smithfield, where I had many wounded and sick men, 
 made me the more diligent to promote it. Nor was my care 
 for the Savoy less. It now pleased God, by abating the wind, 
 and by the industry of the people, infusing a new spirit into 
 them, that the fury of it began sensibly to abate about noon, so 
 that it came no farther than the Temple westward, nor than the 
 entrance of Smithfield north : but continued all this day and 
 night so impetuous towards Cripplegate and the Tower, as 
 made us all despair ; it also broke out again in the Temple ; 
 but the courage of the multitude persisting, and many houses 
 being blown up, such gaps and desolation were soon made, as 
 with the former three days consumption the back fire did not 
 so vehemently urge upon the rest as formerly. There was yet 
 no standing near the burning and glowing ruins, by near a 
 furlong's space. The coal and wood wharfs, and magazines 
 of oil, rosin, &c, did infinite mischief; so that the invective, 
 which a little before I had dedicated to his Majesty, and pub- 
 lished, giving warning what might probably be the issue of 
 suffering those shops to be in the city, was looked on as a pro- 
 phecy. The poor inhabitants were dispersed about St. George's 
 Fields and Moorfields, as far as Highgate. and several miles in 
 
 9 
 
98 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 circle ; some under tents, some under miserable huts and hovels ; 
 many without a rag or any necessary utensils, bed or board,- 
 who, from delicateness, riches, and easy accommodations in 
 stately and well-furnished houses, were now reduced to ex- 
 tremest misery and poverty. In this calamitous condition I re- 
 turned with a sad heart to my house, blessing and adoring the 
 mercy of God to me and mine, who, in the midst of all this 
 ruin, was like Lot, in my little Zoar, safe and sound. 7th 
 Sept. — I went this morning on foot from Whitehall as far as 
 London-bridge, through the late Fleet-street, Ludgate-hill, by 
 St. Paul's, Cheapside, Exchange, Bishopsgate, Aldersgate, and 
 out to Moor fields, thence through Cornhill, &c, with extraor- 
 dinary difficulty, clambering over heaps of yet smoking rub- 
 bish, and frequently mistaking where I was. The ground 
 under my feet was so hot, that it even burnt the soles of my 
 shoes. At my return, I was infinitely concerned to find that 
 goodly church, St. Paul's now a sad ruin, and, that beautiful 
 portico (for structure comparable to any in Europe, as not long 
 before repaired by the king) now rent in pieces, flakes of vast 
 stone split asunder, and nothing remaining entire but the in- 
 scription in the architrave, showing by whom it was built, 
 which had not one letter of it defaced. Thus lay in ashes that 
 most venerable church, one of the most early pieces in the 
 Christian world, besides near one hundred more. The lead, 
 iron-work, bells, plate, &c., melted ; the exquisitely wrought 
 Mercers' Chapel, the sumptuous Exchange, the august fabric 
 of Christ Church, all the rest of the Companies' Halls, sump- 
 tuous buildings, arches, all in dust ! The fountains dried up 
 and ruined, whilst the very waters remained boiling ; the 
 voragos of subterranean cellars, wells, and dungeons, formerly 
 warehouses, still burning in stench and dark clouds of smoke ; 
 so that in five or six miles traversing about, I did not see one 
 load of timber unconsumed, nor many stones but what were 
 calcined white as snow. The people who now walked about 
 the ruins appeared like men in a dismal desert, or rather in 
 some great city laid waste by a cruel enemy : to which wz.3 
 added the stench that came from some poor creatures' bodies, 
 beds, &x. Sir Thomas Grecham's statue, though fallen from 
 its niche in the Royal Exchange, remained entire, when all 
 those of the kings since the Conquest were broken to pieces : 
 also the Standard in Cornhill, and dueen Elizabeth's effigies, 
 with some arms on Ludgate, continued with but little detri- 
 ment ; whilst the vast iron chains of the city, streets, hinges, 
 bars and gates of prisons, were many of them melted and re- 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 9S> 
 
 dueed to cinders by the vehement heat. I was not able to pass 
 through many of the narrow streets, but kept the widest, the 
 ground and air, smoke and fiery vapor, continued so intense, 
 that my hair was almost singed, and my feet insufferably 
 heated. I then went towards Islington and Highgate, where 
 one might have seen 200,000 people, of all ranks and degrees, 
 dispersed and lying along by their heaps of what they could 
 save from the fire, deploring their loss ; and though ready to 
 perish for hunger and destitution, yet not asking one penny for 
 relief; which to me appeared a stranger sight than any I had 
 yet beheld. In the midst of all this calamity and confusion, 
 there was, I know not how, an alarm begun, that the French 
 and Dutch, with whom we were now in hostility, were not only 
 landed, but even entering the city ! There was in truth some 
 days before great suspicion of those two nations joining; and 
 now, that they had been the occasion of firing the town. This 
 report did so terrify, that on a sudden there was such an up- 
 roar and tumult, that they ran from their goods, and taking 
 what weapons they could come at, they could not be stopped 
 from falling on some of those nations whom they casually met, 
 without sense or reason. The clamor and peril grew so ex- 
 cessive, that it made the whole court amazed, and they did, 
 with infinite pains and great difficulty, reduce and oppose the 
 people, sending troops of soldiers and guards to cause them to 
 retire into the fields again, where they were watched all this 
 night. I left them pretty quiet, and came home sufficiently 
 weary and broken. Their spirits thus a little calmed and the 
 affright abated, they now began to repair into the suburbs about 
 the city, where such as had friends or opportunity got shelter. 
 
 From Evelyn 1 s Memoirs. 
 
 TRIAL AND EXECUTION OF CHARLES I. 
 
 Charles First, having for years infringed the just rights of 
 his subjects, was opposed in his usurpations of power by the 
 parliament, till at length the controversy was decided by the 
 sword. After a series of battles, the king's forces were com- 
 pletely routed at the battle of Naseby, in 1645, by the parlia- 
 ment's army. Charles fled, and threw himself into the hands 
 of the Scots, who delivered him up to the commissioners of 
 parliament. He was tried, condemned, and, in the opinion of 
 many, justly executed as a "tyrant and a traitor to the liberties 
 
100 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 of England.' The following account of his trial and executioa 
 is taken from H lime's History of England. It ought to be re- 
 membered, that thus celebrated historian was the regular apolo- 
 gist of all the Stuar< family, of which this monarch was a 
 iiember. 
 
 Col one Harrison, tne son of a butcher, and the most furious 
 enthusiast in the army, was sent with a strong party to conduct 
 the king to London. At Windsor, Hamilton, who was there 
 detained a prisoner, was admitted into the king's presence; 
 and falling on his knees, passionately exclaimed, " M y dear 
 master V—* ^-" I have indeed been so to you" replied Charles, 
 embracing X4 im. No farther intercourse was allowed between 
 fhem. The king was instantly hurried away. Hamilton long 
 fol'owed him with his eyes all suffused in tears, and prognos- 
 i icated, that, in this short salutation, he had given the last adieu 
 o his sovereign and his friend. 
 
 Charles himself was assured, that the period of his life was 
 now approaching; but notwithstanding all the preparations 
 which were making, and the intelligence which he received, he 
 could not, even yet, believe that his enemies really meant to 
 conclude their violences by a public trial and execution. A 
 private assassination he every moment looked for ; and though 
 Harrison assured him, that his apprehensions were entirely 
 groundless, it was by that catastrophe, so frequent with de- 
 throned princes, that he expected to terminate his life. In 
 appearance, as well as in reality, the king was now dethroned. 
 All the exterior symbols of sovereignty were withdrawn, and 
 his attendants had orders to serve him without ceremony. At 
 first, he was shocked with instances of rudeness and familiarity, 
 to which he had been so little accustomed. Nothing so con- 
 temptible as a despised prince ! was the reflection which they 
 suggested to him. But he soon reconciled his mind to this, as 
 he had done to his other calamities. 
 
 All the circumstances of the trial were now adjusted ; and the 
 high court of justice fully constituted. It consisted of one hun- 
 dred and thirty-three persons, as named by the commons ; but 
 there never met above seventy: so difficult was it found, not- 
 withstanding the blindness of prejudice, and the allurements of 
 interest, to engage men of any name or character in that 
 criminal measure. Cromwell, Ireton, Harrison, and the chief 
 officers of the army, most of them of mean birth, were members, 
 together with some of the lower house, and some citizens of 
 London. The twelve judges were at first appointed in the 
 number. But as they had affirmed, that it was contrary to all 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 10l 
 
 the ideas of English law to try the king for treason, hy whose 
 authority all accusations for treason must necessarily be con 
 ducted ; their names, as well as those of some peers, were after- 
 wards struck out. Bradshavv, a lawyer, was chosen president; 
 Coke was appointed solicitor for the people of England; 
 Doriflans, Steele, and Aske, were named assistants. The court 
 sat in Westminster Hall. 
 
 It is remarkable that, in calling over the court, when the 
 crier pronounced the name of Fairfax, which had been inserted 
 in the number, a voice came from one of the spectators, and 
 cried, " He has more wit than to be here" When the charge 
 was read against the king, In the name of the people of Eng- 
 land, the same voice exclaimed, " Not a tenth part of them." 
 Axtel, the officer who guarded the court, giving orders to fire 
 into the box, whence those insolent speeches came, it was dis- 
 covered that Lady Fairfax was there, and that it was she who 
 had the courage to utter them. She was a person of noble ex- 
 traction, daughter of Horace Lord Vere, of Tilbury ; but being 
 seduced by the violence of the times, she had long seconded 
 her husband's zeal against the royal cause, and was now, as 
 well as he, struck with abhorrence at the fatal and unexpected 
 consequence of all his boasted victories. 
 
 The pomp, the dignity, the ceremony of this transaction, 
 corresponded to the greatest conception that is suggested in the 
 annals of human kind; the delegates of a great people sitting in 
 judgment upon their supreme magistrate, and trying him for 
 his misgovernment and breach of trust. The solicitor, in the 
 name of the commons, represented, that Charles Stuart, being 
 admitted king of England, and intrusted with a limited power, 
 yet, nevertheless, from a wicked design to erect an unlimited 
 and tyrannical government, had traitorously and maliciously 
 levied war against the present parliament, and the people whom 
 they represented ; and was, therefore, impeached as a tyrant, 
 traitor, murderer, and a public and implacable enemy to the 
 commonwealth. After the charge was finished, the president 
 directed his discourse to the king, and told him, that the court 
 expected his answer. 
 
 The king, though long detained a prisoner, and now pro- 
 duced a criminal, sustained, by his magnanimous courage, the 
 majesty of a monarch. With great temper and dignity, he de- 
 clined the authority of the court, and refused to submit himself 
 to their jurisdiction. He represented, that, having been en- 
 gaged in treaty with his two houses of parliament, and having 
 finished almost every article, he had expected to be brought to 
 
 9* 
 
02 
 
 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 his capital in another manner, and ere this time, to have been 
 restored to his power, dignity, revenue, as well as to his per- 
 sonal liberty ; that he could not now perceive any appearance 
 of the upper house, so essential a member of the constitution ; 
 and had learned, that even the commons, whose authority was 
 pretended, were subdued by lawless force, and were bereaved 
 of their liberty; that he himself was their native, hereditary 
 king ; nor was the whole authority of the state, though free 
 and united, entitled to try him, who derived his dignity from 
 the Supreme Majesty of heaven ; that, admitting those extrava- 
 gant principles which leveled all orders of men, the court could 
 plead no power, delegated by the people, unless the consent of 
 every individual, down to the meanest and most ignorant pea- 
 sant, had been previously asked and obtained ; that he acknow- 
 ledged, without scruple, that he had a trust committed to him, 
 and one most sacred and inviolable ; he was intrusted with the 
 liberties of his people, and would not now betray them by re- 
 cognizing a power, founded on the most atrocious violence and 
 usurpation ; that having taken arms, and frequently exposed his 
 life, in defense of public liberty, of the constitution, of the fun- 
 damental laws of the kingdom, he was willing, in this last and 
 most solemn scene, to seal with his blood those precious rights 
 for which, though in vain, he had so long contended; that 
 those who arrogated a title to sit as his judges, were born his 
 subjects, and born subject to those laws which determined, thai 
 the king can do no wrong ; that he was not reduced to the ne- 
 cessity of sheltering himself under this general maxim, which 
 guards every English monarch, even the least deserving ; but 
 was able, by the most satisfactory reasons, to justify those mea- 
 sures, in which he had been engaged ; that, to the whole world, 
 and even to them, his pretended judges, he was desirous, if 
 called upon in another manner, to prove the integrity of his 
 conduct, and assert the justice of those defensive arms, to which, 
 unwillingly and unfortunately, he had had recourse; but that, 
 in order to preserve a uniformity of conduct, he must, at present, 
 forego the apology for his innocence, lest, by ratifying an au- 
 thority no better founded than that of robbers and pirates, he 
 be justly branded as the betrayer, instead of being applauded 
 as the martyr of the constitution. 
 
 The president, in order to support the majesty of the people., 
 and maintain the superiority of his court above the prisoner, 
 still inculcated, that he must not decline the authority of his 
 judges , that they overruled his objections ; that they were de- 
 legated by the people, the only source of every lawful power: 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 103 
 
 and that kings themselves acted hut in trust from that commu- 
 nity, which had invested this high court of justice with us 
 jurisdiction. Even according to those principles which, in his 
 present situation, he was perhaps obliged to adopt, his behavior 
 in general, will appear not a little harsh and barbarous; but 
 when we consider him as a subject, and one too of no high cha- 
 racter addressing himself to his unfortunate sovereign, his 
 style will be esteemed, to the last degree, audacious and in- 
 solent. 
 
 Three times was Charles produced before the court, and as 
 often declined their jurisdiction. On the fourth, the judges 
 having examined some witnesses, by whom it was proved, that 
 the king had appeared in arms against the forces commissioned 
 by the parliament, they pronounced sentence against him. He 
 seemed very anxious at this time, to be admitted to a conference 
 with the two houses; and it was supposed that he intended to 
 resign the crown to his son. But the court refused compliance, 
 and considered that request as nothing but a delay of justice 
 All solicitations were found fruitless with men whose resolu- 
 tions were fixed and irrevocable. 
 
 Four of Charles's friends, persons of virtue and dignity, 
 Richmond, Hertford, Southampton, and Lindesey, applied to the 
 commons. They represented, that they were the king's coun- 
 sellors, and had concurred, by their advice, with all those 
 measures which were now imputed as crimes to their royal 
 master ; that, in the eye of the law, and according to the die 
 tates of common reason, they alone were guilty, and were alo 
 exposed to censure for every blamable action of the prince ; an 
 that they now presented themselves, in order to save, by theii 
 own punishment, that precious life which it became the com- 
 mons themselves, and every subject, with the utmost hazard, to 
 protect and defend. Such a generous effort contributed to their 
 honor ; but operated nothing towards the king's safety. 
 
 The people remained in that silence and astonishment, which 
 all great passions, when they have not an opportunity of ex- 
 erting themselves, naturally produce in the human mind. The 
 soldiers, being incessantly plied with prayers, sermons, and ex- 
 hortations, were wrought up to a degree of fury, and imagined, 
 that, in the acts of the most extreme disloyalty tow r ards their 
 prince, consisted their highest merit in the eyes of heaven. 
 
 Three days were allowed the king between his sentence and 
 his execution. This interval he passed with great tranquillity, 
 chiefly in reading and devotion. All his family that remained 
 in England^ were allowed access to him. It consisted only of 
 
104 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 the Princess Elizabeth and the Duke of Glocester ; for the 
 Duke of York had made his escape. Glocester was little 
 more than an infant. The princess, notwithstanding her ten- 
 der years, showed an advanced judgment ; and the calamities 
 of her family had made a deep impression upon her. After 
 many pious consolations and advices, the king gave her in 
 charge to tell the queen, that, during the whole course of his 
 life, he had never once, even in thought, failed in his fidelity 
 towards her; and that his conjugal tenderness and his life 
 should have an equal duration. 
 
 To the young duke, too, he could not forbear giving some 
 advice, in order to season his mind with early principles of loy- 
 alty and obedience towards his brother, who was so soon to be 
 his sovereign. Holding him on his knee, he said, " Now they 
 will cut off thy father's head." At these words, the child 
 looked very steadfastly upon him. " Mark ! child, what I say : 
 They will cut off my head ! and perhaps make thee a king : 
 but mark what I say : thou must not be a king, as long as thy 
 brothers, Charles and James, are alive. They will cut off thy 
 brothers' heads when they can catch them ! And thy head too 
 they will cut off at last ! And therefore I charge thee, do not 
 be made a king by them !" The duke, sighing, replied, "I 
 will be torn in pieces first !" So determined an answer, from 
 one of such tender years, filled the king's eyes with tears of 
 joy and admiration. 
 
 Every night, during this interval, the king slept sound as 
 usual ; though the noise of workmen, employed in framing the 
 scaffold, and other preparations for his execution, continually 
 resounded in his ears. The morning of the fatal day, he rose 
 early ; and calling Herbert, one of his attendants, he bade him 
 employ more than usual care in dressing him, and preparing 
 him for so great and joyful a solemnity. Bishop Juxon, a man 
 endowed with the same mild and steady virtues, by which the 
 king himself was so much distinguished, assisted him in his 
 devotions, and paid the last melancholy duties to his friend and 
 sovereign. 
 
 The street before Whitehall was the place destined for the 
 execution ; for it was intended, by choosing that very place, in 
 sight of his own palace, to display more evidently the triumph 
 pf popular justice over royal majesty. When the king came 
 upon the scaffold, he found it surrounded with soldiers, that he 
 could not expect to be heard by any of the people. He ad- 
 dressed, therefore, his discourse to the few persons who were 
 about them; particularly Colonel Tomlinson, to whose care 
 
Jfcecution of Charles I.— Page 105. 
 
 Discovery of Niagara Falls.— Page 112. 
 
HISTORICAL CABLET. 105 
 
 he had lately been committed, and upon whom, as upon many 
 others, his amiable deportment had wrought an entire conver- 
 sion. He justified his own innocence in the late fatal wars, 
 and observed that he had not taken arms, till after the parlia- 
 ment had enlisted forces ; nor had he any other object in his 
 warlike operations, than to preserve that authority entire, which 
 his ancestors had transmitted to him. He threw not, however, 
 the blame upon the parliament ; but was more inclined to 
 think, that ill instruments had interposed, and excited in them 
 fears and jealousies with regard to his intentions. Though 
 innocent towards his people, he acknowledged the equity of 
 his execution in the eyes of his Maker ; and observed, that an 
 unjust sentence which he had suffered to take effect; was now 
 punished by an unjust sentence upon himself. He forgave all 
 his enemies, even the chief instruments of his death ; but ex- 
 horted them and the whole nation to return to the ways of 
 peace, by paying obedience to their lawful sovereign, his son 
 and successor. When he was preparing himself for the block, 
 Bishop Juxon called to him : " There is, sir, but one stage 
 more, which, though turbulent and troublesome, is yet a very 
 short one. Consider, it will soon carry you a great way ; it 
 will carry you from earth to heaven ; and there you shall find, 
 to your great joy, the prize, to which you hasten, a crown of 
 glory." " I go," replied the king, " from a corruptible to an 
 incorruptible cro;;'^ ; where no disturbance can have place." 
 At one blow was his head severed from his body. A man in 
 a vizor performed the office of executioner ; another, in a like 
 disguise, held up to the spectators, the head, streaming with 
 blood, and cried aloud, " This is the head of a traitor /" 
 
 It being remarked, that the king, the moment before he 
 stretched out his neck to the executioner, had said to Juxon, 
 with a very earnest accent, the single word, remember!—- 
 great mysteries were supposed to be concealed under that ex- 
 pression ; and the generals vehemently insisted with the pre- 
 late, that he should inform them of the king's meaning. Juxon 
 told them, that the king, having frequently charged him to in- 
 culcate on his son the forgiveness of his murderers, had taken 
 this opportunity, in the last moments of hi? life, when his com- 
 mands, he supposed, would be regarded as sacred and inviola- 
 ble, to reiterate that desire ; and that his mild spirit, thus ter- 
 minated its present course, by an act of benevolence towards 
 his greatest enemies. 
 
106 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 DISCOVERY OF THE NIAGARA FALLS. 
 
 [By John Gait] 
 
 Among the earliest missionaries sent to convert the Indiana 
 to the Christian belief, was Joseph Price, a young man who 
 had received directions to penetrate farther into the vast forests 
 which clothe the continent of America towards the north, than 
 had been at that time accomplished. In this hazardous under- 
 taking he was accompanied by Henry Wilmington, who, ac- 
 tuated by the same religious motives, had volunteered to attend 
 him. They had been landed at Boston, then a very small but 
 thriving village, about a month previous, where they made the 
 necessary preparations for their expedition, and recruited them- 
 selves after a passage of thirteen weeks from Plymouth, for so 
 long a passage was not uncommon in those times in traversing 
 the Atlantic. 
 
 It was a fine morning in the latter end of May, when they 
 bade adieu to the inhabitants, by whom they had been hospita- 
 bly entertained, and, accompanied by the good wishes of all, 
 proceeded towards the hitherto unexplored forest. 
 
 The buds were now beginning to expand into leaves, and 
 the sun was often darkened by the vast flocks of migratory 
 pigeons, which, when the woods allowed, sometimes flew so 
 close to the ground, that the travelers could beat them down 
 with their sticks. Before sailing from England they had often 
 heard persons who had crossed the Atlantic mention this cir- 
 cumstance, but they suspected them of exaggeration until they 
 witnessed it themselves. 
 
 It was their intention to visit a distant tract of country, of 
 which nothing was known except vague reports of sheets of 
 water, so immense, that, but for the circumstance of their be- 
 ing fresh, might have led them to suppose they were on an is- 
 land. These reports were for the most part gathered from the 
 Indians, on whose testimony little reliance could be placed, as 
 none of their informers could speak from their own knowledge. 
 
 To aid them in their pursuit, they were provided with com- 
 passes and armed with fowling pieces. They, directing their 
 course towards the place to which most of the Indians alluded, 
 had, it is true, but slight grounds on which to rest their hopes 
 of success ; animated, however, with the desire of fulfilling what 
 they had undertaken, they thought little of the difficulties which 
 might attend it : accordingly, it was without regret that they 
 were now leaving the settled part of the country. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 107 
 
 Having traveled several days without seeing- any thing 
 worthy of notice, they arrived at the ultimate farm they could 
 expect to meet with before their return. After remaining there 
 for the night, they continued their journey through the forest, 
 which hcid most likely never been previously trodden by the 
 feet of civilized man. The startled deer frequently crossed 
 their path, and a few birds were the only objects that varied the 
 silent solitude around. 
 
 Guided by their compasses, they continued their progress 
 many days, until they arrived at the banks of a large and ra- 
 pid river, which they in vain attempted to pass, as its breadth 
 and swiftness precluded the hope of their being able to swim 
 across it. After proposing many expedients, all of which they 
 soon found to be impracticable, they determined on trusting them- 
 selves to some one of the many fallen trees which lay in every 
 eddy along its banks ; and having selected one whose branches 
 lay in such a manner as would prevent it from turning over, 
 they entwined boughs to form a small kind of basket, into 
 which, having provided themselves with stout poles, they en- 
 tered, taking care that neither their guns nor ammunition suf- 
 fered from the water ; they then steadily pushed it from the 
 shore into the stream, and continued doing so until the water 
 grew so deep that the poles were of no avail, and they were 
 obliged to trust to Providence to carry them to the other side. 
 For some time they continued in the middle of the river, 
 without inclining to either bank, when they perceived that, by 
 the help of the wind, they were quickly gaining on a large 
 pine, which was slowly floating downwards. On reaching it^. 
 they stretched out their poles with a great effort, and succeed- 
 ed in pushing themselves into water where they could again 
 find bottom. After much labor, our travelers touched the bank, 
 on which they quickly leaped, and having taken out their arms, 
 they continued their journey rejoicing. 
 
 They soon after arrived at a spot where they deemed it fit 
 to wait till the following morning, and, it being their custom, 
 they went out hunting, in order to provide provision for the 
 next day's wants, at that time easily accomplished, as the forests 
 bounded with herds of deer, which, having been seldom dis- 
 urbed, were exceedingly tame. On this occasion they soon 
 eheld a great number watching a furious encounter be-* ween 
 wo large bucks, which, with the utmost animosity, were en- 
 deavoring to gore each other. Surprised at a sight they had 
 never before seen, they determined to await the result ; and 
 after some time, one of the combatants, by an amazing leap 
 
108 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 sprang past the other, and, swiftly turning round, drove his 
 norns into the side of his adversary, and instantly killed him 
 
 The missionaries, running to the spot, frightened away the 
 remainder of the herd, while they took possession of the fall- 
 en one, and, having taken what would serve them for several 
 days, left the carcass to the wolves. 
 
 In about a week after, they reached a chain of mountains, 
 where they rested for the night, and next morning proceeded 
 to ascend their steep and sandy sides, up which they were en- 
 abled to drag themselves by grasping the trees; nevertheless, 
 they were several times nearly precipitated into the gulf below. 
 Wilmington, on one occasion in particular, when they were 
 ascending a very dangerous part of the mountain, inadvertent- 
 ly seized a rotten branch, which, giving way, caused him to be 
 hurried downward to the very brink of a precipice, where he 
 saved himself by catching hold of a projecting bough. Thus 
 they advanced, for the remainder of that day, in the evening 
 of which they took advantage of a small space of level ground, 
 to remain until the morning. About noon, they succeeded in 
 gaining the summit of the ridge; and in order that they might 
 view the surrounding country, they with some difficulty ascend- 
 ed a barren crag that reared itself high above the others ; for, 
 without having met with this, the trees would have excluded 
 every prospect. Having reached its loftiest pinnacle, they turn- 
 ed their eager eyes to see if they could behold any traces of 
 the mighty seas of fresh water which had been described to 
 them by the Indians; but to their sorrow, as far as their sight 
 could stretch, only vast woods met their anxious gaze. 
 
 While thus engaged, they sometimes heard the piercing 
 cries of the hawk in pursuit of his prey ; far under them, and 
 among the trees, the 'drumming of the partridge and the tap- 
 ping of the woodpecker, could be clearly distinguished. Be- 
 ing somewhat disappointed, they silently commenced wending 
 their lonely way down the side of the mountain ; but, notwith- 
 standing their utmost exertions, they could not succeed in de- 
 scending the range that evening, and were compelled by the 
 approaching darkness to seek a spot where they might safely 
 rest. Early in the morning they awoke, and, continuing their 
 descent with renewed energy, soon surpassed the formidable 
 obstacle which the hills had opposed. 
 
 Having rested for the remainder of that day, they again be- 
 gan to cross the level country, and continued doing so for many 
 days, without having seen a single human being since their 
 departure from the farm, when, one day, in a glade of the wood* 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 10S 
 
 they saw a band of Indians among the trees, who, having ap» 
 proached, spoke in a pleasant, but to them unknown language. 
 Their gestures betokened their surprise at beholding people so 
 different in color to themselves, and armed with what appeared 
 to them only polished sticks. While thus employed, a flock 
 of wild geese flew high above their heads, at which the Indians 
 discharged their arrows, but they fell short of their intended 
 mark ; when Price and Wilmington, raising their guns, fired, 
 and, to the astonishment of the natives, two of the flock came 
 fluttering to their feet. The spectators crowded round the Eu- 
 ropeans, and with much curiosity began to admire the weapons 
 which they had formerly despised. Their wonder was not 
 diminished when they saw what they imagined pounded cin- 
 ders put into the muzzles of the guns, and then, on pulling a 
 small piece of iron, a flash of fire, accompanied with smoke 
 and a loud report, immediately followed. The chief, by signs, 
 appeared to ask them to accompany him, that the rest of his 
 tribe might see what seemed to them exceedingly wonderful ; 
 and, having followed him, they soon arrived at a place where 
 several Indians were engaged in erecting small wigwams of 
 bark. The chief, however, made them understand that this 
 was only their hunting ground, and told them that their village 
 lay far off, in the direction of the sun, which was then sinking 
 behind the trees, and to which they should soon return. From 
 this time the missionaries commenced learning the language of 
 their entertainers, in which they were able to converse with some 
 facility by the time that the Indians returned to their village, 
 which was situated on the Oneida. Having arrived there, Price 
 began to teach them ; but they, having patiently listened to his 
 first sermon, to his great sorrow, never assembled to hear him 
 again; and, in consequence, he told Wilmington that he would 
 try to discover whether there was any truth in the reports they 
 had heard at Boston concerning the inland waters, and asked 
 him if he was willing to be his companion. Wilmington as- 
 sented; and having endeavored to inform the Indians of their 
 intention, the chief, who had conducted them to the village, 
 made them understand, that the river which flowed past led tci 
 an immense basin, which they supposed was formed by the 
 continual running of several large rivers, but that few of his 
 tribe had ever paddled far round its borders. There was, how- 
 ever, an old man, who in his youth had ventured to proceed in 
 his canoe for many suns along it, and returned with the reporl 
 that he had arrived at an immense river which ran into the 
 iresh sea, where, having landed for the purpose of hunting, he 
 
 10 
 
-10 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 had heard a terrific roaring, as he thought, of waters, and, ad' 
 dancing through *he woods towards the sound, for some miles, 
 ^he stream became so rapid that no canoe could go up against it. 
 Being very much alarmed, he had hurried back to his bark, 
 and instantly commenced his return ; but he was the only one 
 of the tribe who had ever dared to sail so far, and from his ac- 
 count they supposed it the source of the lake. 
 
 Having learnt this, they asked the chief, whose name was 
 Maiook, whether he would allow any of his Indians to accom- 
 pany them down the river to the lake, and ascertain from whence 
 tLe sound that had alarmed the aged Indian arose. He at irst 
 tried to dissuade them, by every argument in his power ; J)ut, 
 rinding his endeavors of no avail, he said that he would him- 
 self join them in their expedition. It was, therefore, agreed 
 that they should sail down the river the week following ; but 
 before the time determined on, an event occurred that consider- 
 ably delayed their departure. 
 
 On rising one morning, they remarked that large clouds of 
 smoke were drifting over their heads, accompanied by an over- 
 powering pressure of heat, which the Indians said was occa- 
 sioned by the woods being on fire ; and as the wind was high, 
 showers of ashes frequently fell around them. To avoid these 
 they took shelter in their wigwams, but the hotness of the air, 
 together with the smoke, increased so much, that, being in dan- 
 ger of suffocation, the chief proposed that they should cast 
 themselves into the Oneida ; and as no better proposition could 
 be made, they hurried into it, and remained with only their 
 heads above water, being often obliged to immerse them like- 
 wise ; they were thus situated many hours, while the water was 
 black with the ashes that fell around them. The wind, at last, 
 to their great joy, changed, and relieved them from their peril- 
 ous position, by driving the flames in the contrary direction. 
 They did not, however, quit the water, as the ground was still 
 covered with burning embers. On leaving the river, they saw, 
 to their mortification, that the village was on fire in several 
 places, and it was sometime before they succeeded in stopping 
 the progress of the burning ; the canoes which they had drawn 
 up on the shore were also consumed. After repairing the dam- 
 age and making other canoes, they began their expedition ; and 
 having paddled for several days, one calm and beautiful even- 
 ing they were astonished at the sight of Lake Ontario. As 
 far as the eye could reach, they could only see what appeared 
 to them boundless water, which lay without the slightest ripple 
 on its glassy surface, undisturbed by the softest breath of ind. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. Ill 
 
 Tliej th?n continued paddling round the shore, looking out for 
 a plare where they might safely moor their canoes during the 
 night, and, among the many small inlets, they soon discovered 
 one fitted for their purpose, which they immediately entered. 
 At sunrise they again advanced on their adventurous expedi- 
 tion. As they coasted along, the deer would sometimes look 
 at them from among the thickets which fringed the borders of 
 the lake; and at other times they saw them swimming across 
 the mouths of the various creeks or rivers which they passed 
 in their progress. They were, however, too much engaged in 
 admiring the lonely magnificence of the surrounding scenery, 
 to interrupt the playful gambols of the deer by endeavoring to 
 wound them, which they did only when their necessities com- 
 pelled. Thus they paddled onward for several days, without 
 perceiving any thing that might lead them to suppose they 
 were approaching the spot to which the old Indian had alluded ; 
 when, one hazy morning, having proceeded many miles before 
 the sun had power to dispel the thick mists, they were delight- 
 ed at seeing themselves, as the air at noon cleared, about to 
 enter a large river, which flowed rapidly into the lake. As 
 this in some measure coincided with the first part of what had 
 been related to them, they determined on entering it ; but after 
 paddling up it for some time, the current grew so strong that 
 they were compelled to disembark, and continue their journey 
 by land on the edge of the high precipitous bank. 
 
 The wind, softly blowing, rustled among the trees, but some- 
 times they fancied that a distant rumbling could be distin- 
 guished. 
 
 Having followed the course of the stream along the edge of 
 the cliff for some distance, Price proposed that one of them 
 should ascend a tree and follow the course of the river upward 
 with his eye, and try if he could discover whence the sound 
 that reached them arose. Maiook, therefore, told one of his 
 Indians to climb up a lofty pine which grew apart from the 
 rest; and he had hardly ascended half-way, when, uttering a 
 cry of astonishment, he hastened to the ground and told his 
 comrades that he had seen immense clouds of spray rising far 
 above the trees, but he could not perceive from what cause they 
 arose. Encouraged by this report, after refreshing themselves, 
 (being much wearied by their toilsome march,) they hastened 
 along the edge of the cliffs, while the rushing sound that had 
 been gradually increasing, was every instant becoming more 
 and more tremendous, and the velocity of the stream made 
 them imagine that they were in the vicinity of a furious rapid^ 
 
112 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 when, on advancing from the thick bushes, they suddenly founa 
 themselves on a bare ledge of rock which overhung an immense 
 chasm, into which two streams and a mighty river were tum- 
 bling, with a noise that drowned all their exclamations of sur- 
 prise, and which was louder than the voice of the ocean in a 
 storm. Springing back with terror from the edge of the pre- 
 cipice over which they had so nearly plunged, they eyed the 
 thundering and foaming torrent with amazement, not noticing 
 tha". part of the rock on which they had just been standing, was 
 tottering and slowly separating itself from the adjoining mass, 
 till roused by the crash with which it was precipitated into the 
 gulf below, shaking the living rock from whence it had been 
 detached, and resounding through the woods, far above the 
 roaring of the stupendous cataract. The missionaries involun- 
 tarily leaped back among the trees, not daring to return to the 
 place where they had been, and viewed with more composure 
 the awful prospect before them. The river above the falls was 
 for some distance a furious rapid, rushing with incredible force 
 towards the precipice ; but when on its very brink, it, in some 
 parts of the great stream, became calm ; other parts were white 
 with foam. While thus engaged, Maiook, with a loud cry. di- 
 rected their attention to a large deer, which, in vain struggling 
 against the overpowering suction of the falls, was rapidly com- 
 ing to destruction. They watched its fruitless endeavors to 
 reach the shore ; but, on arriving at the deceitful calm, it look- 
 ed wildly, with distended nostrils and outstretched neck, and 
 seemed to be crying ; but the roar of the cataracts drowned its 
 voice, and it was soon precipitated into the boiling abyss. 
 
 The French, from the province of Quebec, may have reach- 
 ed as far before, but Price and his companion believed they 
 were the first who had penetrated to that spot ; and when they 
 returned back to the settlements, their description of the unpa- 
 ralleled magnificence of the cataracts, to which Maiook gave 
 the name of Niagara, or the thundering waters, was deem- 
 ed incredible. But the wilderness has now been banished 
 from the scene, and festivity and commerce have there establish- 
 ed themselves amidst the simple sublimity that distinguishes 
 this, the most impressive spectacle of the kind to be seen on 
 the whole earth. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. [\S 
 
 FIRST SETTLERS ON THE OHIO. 
 
 [By John Gait] 
 
 The wars between the first settlers and the Indians of North 
 America, resembled in ferocity those ancient feuds so celebrated 
 in the early minstrelsy of Europe ; fierce and cruel, they may 
 be described as the fermentation arising from the accidental 
 mingling of the elements of future nations. 
 
 The settlers, compared with their savage adversaries of the 
 forest, were a tame, domestic race, and in their habits were 
 changed from the warlike practices of their feudal ancestors 
 in the old country; but the courage and fortitude with which 
 they resisted the undaunted aborigines, showed how little in 
 fact the children of civilization differ in nature from their bro- 
 thers of the wood, even in those qualities of bravery and he- 
 roism which are supposed to constitute the only virtues of the 
 Indians, and of which man is supposed to be disarmed as he 
 improves his condition. 
 
 A few days after the festival of the new year ha*d been cele- 
 brated at Waller, (now a considerable town in the state of Ohio,) 
 a number of young men began to assemble at break of day in 
 front of the only tavern in the village, for the purpose of pro- 
 ceeding about fifteen miles through the forest to assist in bring- 
 ing on the supplies which had been retarded on the road by the 
 open weather. The season had been unusually mild, and the 
 snow having thawed in several places, the sleighing was often 
 interrupted, and provisions in consequence were becoming scarce 
 in the settlement. 
 
 As the sun rose, some of the older inhabitants thought that 
 the lowering aspect of the skies prognosticated a storm. The 
 young men however disregarded their bodings, for they were 
 intent not only to perform a public duty, but to enjoy a frolic ; 
 they were, however, induced by the exhortations of their friends, 
 to take their blankets and axes, lest they should be benighted. 
 Being thus equipped, they set forth in high spirits, and about noon 
 arrived where the teams with the supplies awaited assistance. 
 
 Hitherto the storm had only threatened ; the mist hung in 
 flakes among the topmost branches of the trees ; and the tra- 
 velers, careless of the signs, prolonged their stay at the ren- 
 dezvous more than prudence would otherwise have warranted 
 It was long past mid-day before they thought of returnirg 
 home; at last they resumed their *vay, each lessening the 
 wagon loads by taking a package: on his back. 
 
 10* 
 
114 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 They had advanced some distance without observing- any 
 material change in the weather ; but soon after, the woods be- 
 came more gloomy, giving them reason to apprehend that the 
 fears of their friends in the morning had not been groundless ; 
 but still they entertained hopes of being able to reach Waller 
 before the storm would burst. 
 
 Presently small flakes of snow began to fall, which, as the 
 wind blew sharply in their faces, were exceedingly annoying ; 
 these, together with the blast, increased, until the travelers were 
 frequently obliged to turn their backs to avoid the cruel gusts 
 which swept fiercer and fiercer past them. 
 
 When the party were about half way, and the twilight be- 
 gan to darken, some of them proposed that they should begin 
 to erect their shanty or shed ; but it was not till several com- 
 plained of fatigue, and it became evident that Waller could not 
 be reached without hazard, that this advice was listened to. 
 To separate was dangerous, for the surrounding forest was in- 
 fested with wolves, which frequently howled around them, and 
 two were seen crossing their track a short distance in front, and 
 which turned and looked back, uttering a long and melancholy 
 cry, as if grieved to see the band of travelers so numerous. 
 
 The snowy wind was still rising, and no fit place for their 
 shanty could be discovered, when one of the party, looking 
 round, said that having been out hunting in the preceding fall, 
 he had observed a situation well adapted for the purpose ; and 
 which he was sure could not then be far off Under his gui- 
 dance, they accordingly left the supplies, and went a little way 
 into another part of the forest. 
 
 While they had been thus consulting, the howling of the 
 wolves had ceased towards the left hand, but was louder and 
 more frequent in the other direction; and, as the settlers were 
 hastening forward, they were startled by the report of a gun. 
 Nothing afraid on their own account, they pushed on to see if 
 they could assist its possessor, who, they concluded, was, at that 
 advanced hour of the evening, most likely in great danger. 
 In the course of a few minutes they perceived a man with 
 his back against a tree, defending himself with the butt end of 
 his gun, against several wolves which were furiously attacking 
 him. 
 
 The animals, on the approach of the adventurers, immedi 
 ately fled ; for the American wolves are naturally timid, ana 
 never attack a man, except when pressed by hunger. 
 
 The stranger whom they had thus relieved from jeopardy, 
 expressed his gratitude for their timely assistance ; and the 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 115 
 
 leader of the party heartily invited him to accompany them, for 
 the night was darkening fast. Soon after, they arrived at a 
 spot where the trees appeared to form an amphitheater. Here 
 they cleared a space sufficient for their accommodation, and 
 proceeded to remove the snow ; and, having felled several sap- 
 lings that grew near, they sharpened their ends and fastened 
 them at equal distances between the trees ; filling up the space, 
 with boughs and branches, with which they also covered the 
 roof. They then kindled a fire, and prepared to pass the night 
 as comfortably as possible, though the tempest was roaring in 
 the forest with a noise like the falls of Niagara. It was at this 
 time, as they were sitting on the ground round the fire, that 
 the stranger, on being solicited, thus began to relate his adven- 
 tures. 
 
 " I am the son," said he, " of George May, one of the first 
 settlers who emigrated into this part of the country. Having 
 penetrated farther west than had previously been done, he fixed 
 his location in the vast and lonely district of Carew, a little east 
 of the Ohio, nearly opposite to where the fierce tribe of the 
 Shawnee Taws have a village, but of whom little fears were 
 entertained, as that wide and deep river flowed between. We 
 sometimes had, however, skirmishes with hunting parties who 
 crossed the Ohio, but whom we always defeated, as they had 
 no fire-arms. Thus several years passed on, and the woods 
 around were gradually becoming cleared and peopled, but not 
 to such a degree as to restrain our savage neighbors from ma- 
 king incursions, which retarded the progress of the settlement. 
 
 " My mother had been dead several years, having left my 
 father without any one to assist him in bringing up my elder 
 brother and myself, who were then very young. Perhaps it is 
 to that cause, I should ascribe our wild and woodland habits : 
 for, even when mere children, we often wandered heedless into 
 the forest, and acquired familiarity with the boldest creatures 
 that range in unmolested liberty amidst its unfrequented and 
 solitary labyrinths. 
 
 " One day, after we had nearly reached manhood, my bro- 
 ther, who had been out hunting, returned in the evening with 
 a wounded settler, belonging to a farm — the nearest — about 
 twelve miles off; and when we had dressed his wounds and 
 given him some refreshment, he requested to see our father. 
 
 "' I asked your sons,' said he to the old man, 'to bring you 
 to me, — for I grow faint, and I fear my life is fast ebbing — in 
 order to warn you of your danger. The Indians yesterday 
 made an attack, in great numbers, on our settlement, and after 
 
11$ HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 much resistance succeeded in overpowering us : what has be- 
 come of my friends I know not, for on these savages rushing 
 into the house, I received a blow on the head which sent me 
 stunned among the bushes, where I lay some time senseless, and 
 on recovering saw only smoking ashes where our dwelling had 
 been. Maimed and helpless, as you see, I then endeavored to 
 crawl here, shuddering with apprehension lest our remorseless 
 enemies might be with you before me.' 
 
 " ' What numbers do the Indians amount to V 
 
 " ' Between thirty and forty.' 
 
 " ' There are only eight men,' said my father, looking anxious- 
 ly, ' in this settlement, besides these two lads and myself. But 
 still we must prepare to defend ourselves.' 
 
 " So saying, the old man left us, to give the necessary direc- 
 tions, which, when he had completed, all being still quiet, he 
 returned to us again, hoping that no assault would be attempt- 
 ed that night. Nevertheless, when we proposed to retire, he 
 stationed a sentinel at a short distance from the house ; a wise 
 precaution, for in less than two hours afterwards we were all 
 roused by the report of the sentinel's musket, and having arm- 
 ed ourselves, inquired why he had given the alarm. His an- 
 swer was appalling ; he had seen two Indians, by the glimpse 
 of the moonlight, skulking among the trees near the house, 
 and had fired at them. 
 
 " Upon hearing this, my father said, it might be -as well if 
 we all watched the remainder of the night. Nothing. was, how- 
 ever, seen for a long time ; and some were beginning to think 
 the sentinel had been mistaken, when another, pointing out a 
 clump of bushes, said softly, that he could perceive several In- 
 dians gliding behind it, and asked permission to shoot in that 
 direction, which being granted, he fired ; and, to our consterna- 
 tion, a loud war-whoop, together with shrieks arose, and a band 
 of the savages discharging their arrows, quickly advanced. 
 
 " My father having told us to reserve our fire till he gave the 
 signal, our assailants came rather close; but, when the com- 
 mand was given, a sharp and well-directed shower of shot was 
 poured upon them. Still they continued their attack, until 
 having gained a small eminence, they fired again, but with 
 more deadly aim, for two of our party fell, fatally wounded. 
 By this time we had reloaded, and eager to revenge our com- 
 rades, returned the fire with such effect, that it sent the Indians 
 yelling back to the woods. 
 
 " Having seen enough of their numbers to know, that if the 
 man had not exaggerated, there must be several yet concealed 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 117 
 
 in the woods ; we hoped the repulse they had received would 
 deter them from making another assault, till Ave should have 
 time to send for assistance. The difficulty was, however, to 
 rind messengers, for the bush was filled with our enemies, and 
 or some time, no one volunteered to go. 
 
 " My father, therefore, called us all together, to consult what 
 might next be done ; and my brother and myself, seeing the ns 
 cessity of immediate succor, offered to undertake the adventure, 
 to which, after some hesitation, the old man agreed. Taking up 
 our arms, we left the house, and proceeded slowly through the 
 underwood to the primeval forest at the back of it, and by making 
 a circuit, gained the path ; but as we proceeded, we found every 
 place devastated, and saw that we would have to go so far before 
 we could arrive at any farm which could afford assistance, that 
 most likely our aid would come too late ; we therefore resolved 
 to return home. 
 
 " The sun was in the meridian ; we had been absent many 
 hours, and were so fatigued by our previous watching, that rest 
 was necessary, before we could again be able to make much speed ; 
 but we persevered, and, having returned to our own clearing, 
 and hearing no noise, we imagined that the Indians had retreat- 
 ed. How great was our grief and astonishment at seeing our 
 home destroyed, and all silence and ashes ! We still, however, 
 went forward, with a wild hope, to discover how it had happened. 
 
 " While looking at the wreck of our habitation, our attention 
 was attracted by a loud groan, which proceeded from one of the 
 settlers, whom we then discovered wounded among the bushes. 
 On approaching him, he eagerly begged for a little water, which, 
 w r hen he had received, partly restored him, and enabled him to 
 tell us what had happened in our absence. 
 
 " ' Soon after you left,' said he, ' we saw the Indians appearing 
 at the skirt of the forest, and in greater numbers than before. 
 Your father then regretted your absence, as in the approaching 
 conflict we would be deprived of your aid ; but he still endea- 
 vored to keep up our courage by cheering us with the hopes of 
 vour return with succor. 
 
 The Indians, having gathered themselves together, advan- 
 cea, out with more caution than before. By keeping up a con- 
 tinual discharge of our fire-arms, we for some time checked them ; 
 when seeing the danger of remaining in a body, they separated, 
 and rendered our shot less effective. Your father then ordered 
 us to suspend firing, till they came nearer, or had again united, 
 which unfortunately allowed them to advance til] we were with- 
 in reach of their arrows, which they then began to shower upon 
 9 
 
118 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 us : under cover of them, a party came almost to the very house 
 We had, therefore, reason to fear that if you did not soon return, 
 we should be overcome — our extremity became desperate. We 
 were obliged to screen ourselves in every possible manner from 
 our enemies, or to rush forth and endeavor to drive them back. 
 The latter alternative was adopted. We sprung out, and attack- 
 ed them furiously with the butt ends of our guns ; but they baf- 
 fled us by their agility and superior numbers, and after a despe- 
 rate fight, compelled us to retreat. In returning, I was wound- 
 ed by an arrow; and the confusion prevented me finci Doing 
 carried off into the house, where my companions sought shelter 
 — I thus became a passive, helpless spectator. Some of the In- 
 dians rushed into the house, and their companions, poured in upon 
 our friends, who had taken refuge there, incessant flights of ar- 
 rows, both by doors and windows. At last the house was involv- 
 ed in flames, and the refugees throwing open the back door, 
 fled towards the forest, and might have escaped, had not another 
 herd of the savages sprung up before them, and intercepted their 
 flight. 
 
 " 4 The Indians having thus surrounded their prey, continued 
 to discharge their bows from a distance, which our friends from 
 time to time retaliated with their fire-arms, till they were one 
 after another struck down. Your father alone remained, and 
 seeing no alternative, ran towards the chief, and shot him dead. 
 The Indians seeing their chief fall, uttered a howl of rage, and 
 rushing upon the old man, seized him in their fury, and threw 
 him headlong into the flames, without having, according to their 
 custom, taken his scalp. They immediately, however, scalped 
 our companions, and then taking up the body of their chief, re- 
 tired into the woods, with loud and mournful cries.' 
 
 " This recital exhausted the strength of our only remaining 
 friend ; and he soon after expired. 
 
 " My brother and myself, overwhelmed with sorrow, our home 
 destroyed, our friends slain, and the dreadful doom of our father 
 engraved as it were with wounds on our hearts, resolved to quit 
 that fatal spot. After wandering about several days, subsisting 
 on what we could procure by our guns — one afternoon, when 
 the weather was oppressive and sultry, we were surprised at 
 hearing a low moaning among the branches ; and at the same 
 time, we observed several deer trotting past among the under- 
 wood. We separated to intercept them ; but scarcely had I lost 
 sight of cry brother, when a terrifflc blast of wind swept through 
 tne forest, and uprooted all the trees that were within the scope 
 of its rage. Alarmed at this appalling phenomenon, the nature 
 
First Settlers on the Ohio.— Page 118. 
 
 Mariners at Nova Zembla. — Page 138. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 119 
 
 of which I had often heard described, under the name of a wind- 
 fall, I ran as fast as possible against the blast, until the tremen- 
 dous sound of the falling trees was left far behind me. When 
 I recovered from the panic, I endeavored to return to the spot 
 where I had separated from my brother, at the same time calling 
 on him aloud by name ; but the windfall had so materially chang- 
 ed the appearance of the woods, that, after seeking for the place 
 where we parted a long time, I was obliged to give up the 
 search. 
 
 " I spent the night among the fallen trees, and next morning 
 renewed my search, but in vain. I then laid myself down, and 
 implored heaven to terminate my solitary misery. After some 
 time, I was roused from that desolation of mind, by the voices 
 of several persons talking in an unknown language ; and on 
 looking up, saw they were Indians, but not of the Shawnee 
 Taws. One of them noticed me, and, approaching, inquiied in 
 broken English how I had come there; and I informed him of 
 my misfortunes. On hearing my story, he said, that his tribfc 
 were then engaged in a hostile expedition against that fierce 
 horde, and invited me to join his party. The proposal had in it 
 the sweetness of comfort — for in my own forlorn condition, it 
 afforded me a refuge from my own sad thoughts, and the chance 
 of revenging my father's death. I accordingly started up from 
 the ground ; and, with my rifle, joined the Indians. 
 
 " When we reached the banks of the river, we were delayed 
 some time in forming canoes ; but on the following afternoon 
 we crossed, and entered the land of our enemies. Hiding our 
 canoes among the weeds of the banks, we then stole, in the twi- 
 light, towards their village, situated near the junction of the 
 Wabash and the Ohio. It was dark when we approached it; 
 but by the numerous fires we saw they were in considerable 
 numbers. Some of our party were for an immediate attack; but 
 the proposal was overruled by the advice of an old man, who 
 represented to us that it would be a more advantageous time when 
 the fires were faded, as then our adversaries would have gone 
 to sleep for the night, and be more defenceless. We according- 
 ly lay down on the ground ; and, when at last we saw the fires 
 declining, rose and advanced. 
 
 " Although taken by surprise, our enemies resisted us with 
 great bravery, and by their superior numbers repelled us from 
 the field. The darkness, however, of the night, in the woods, 
 favored our retreat: and we reached the canoes, where everyone 
 embarked as quickly as possible. Not so well accustomed to 
 the woods as my companions, I happened to be the farthest be- 
 
120 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 hind ; and before I reached the spot of embarkation, the canoes 
 had all pu&hed off from the shore. I had no alternative but to 
 leave my arms on the bank and plunge into the river, calling 
 aloud to be taken up, but this durst not be attempted with the 
 crank canoes in the dark, and I was obliged to swim across, one 
 of the Indians holding me by the skirts of my jacket. 
 
 " The Shawnee Taws having no canoes at that place, and un- 
 able to follow us, soon returned to their village ; and next morn- 
 ing by break of day I returned across the river for my arms. 
 On joining the Indians again, they received me with many tokens 
 of kindness ; and as I had then no other object in life to which 
 I was attached, I entreated them to let me be of their party. To 
 this they readily acceded, and with them I had remained several 
 years, when the desire returned strong upon me to see the face 
 of civilization again ; and it was in coming back to the settle- 
 ments, that I was attacked by the wolves, which, but for your 
 timely assistance, would soon have mastered me." 
 
 The young men, who were deeply affected by the tale of his 
 adventures and sufferings, took him with them next morning to 
 Waller. But his habits, by his Indian life, had become wild 
 and roving, and, as soon as the spring opened, he strayed away 
 again into the woods by himself, and they heard of him no more. 
 
 DISCOVERY OF THE KINE-POX, BY JENNER. 
 
 [From the Quarterly Journal.] 
 
 Dr. Edward Jenner was born at Berkeley, in Gloucester- 
 shire, England, on the 17th of May, 1749. At the age of twenty- 
 one he went to London, where his professional studies were 
 completed under the direction and instruction of the celebrated 
 John Hunter* in whose family he resided for two years ; and 
 when he returned to Berkeley, he entered upon the active duties 
 of his profession. In the green fields and shady ianes of the 
 beautiful vale where he resided, Jenner early obtained an ac- 
 quaintance with the popular rumors concerning cow-pox; but 
 the following circumstance first riveted his attention. While he 
 was an apprentice at Sodbury, and probably about sixteen, a 
 young woman applied for advice. The subject of small-pox 
 was mentioned in her presence. She immediately observed, 
 " I cannot take that disease, for I have had cow-pox." He re- 
 peatedly mentioned this circumstance to John Hunter, who ad- 
 vised him, we are told, to try, but certainly gave him no great 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 121 
 
 encouragement. In none of his letters does he ever inquire, 
 even in a postscript, how the said trials with the cow-pox pro- 
 ceeded. VVe may fairly presume, therefore, that John Hunter, 
 with all his learning, disregarded the matter; but the impression 
 which they made upon young Jenner was obviously very strong. 
 In 1775, he began to view it as a matter of scientific investiga- 
 tion, and from that time, until 1796, when he made his first 
 decisive experiment, it was probably never altogether out of hi* 
 mind. Eighteen years prior to that event, that is to say, in the 
 month of May, 1780, he had a glimpse of the truth, and of the 
 reputation that awaited him. He was riding with his friend 
 Gardner, on the road between Gloucester and Bristol, when he 
 briefly sketched out the course which he hoped to pursue, and 
 which he ultimately lived to accomplish. At the meetings of 
 the Alveston club, he frequently brought forward the subject of 
 cow-pox, and earnestly recommended his friends to prosecute the 
 inquiry; but so little did they think of it, that they voted cow- 
 pox a great bore, and threatened to expel Jenner if he continued 
 to harass them with so unprofitable a subject. To appreciate 
 fully the merits of Jenner, as the discoverer of vaccination, it 
 should be remembered, that he made no secret of his belief in 
 its virtues. In 1788, he took with him to London a drawing of 
 the casual disease, as seen on the hands of the milkers, and 
 showed it to Sir Everard Home, and others. John Hunter had 
 often mentioned the fact in his lectures. Dr. Adams heard of 
 the cow-pox both from Mr. Hunter and Mr. Cline; and in his 
 treatise on the morbid poisons, published in 1795, three years 
 prior to the public announcement of Jenner's views, mentions 
 the principal facts then known concerning it. Many other per- 
 sons, too, (Dr. Hay garth, for instance,) were acquainted gene- 
 rally with its alleged powers ; yet no one had the boldness to 
 stake his fame and character upon this basis, but Jenner. To 
 what are we to ascribe this ? — not to the ambition of youth, for 
 Jenner was forty-seven, and had a comfortable independence 
 when he first published concerning cow-pox ; not to mere vanity, 
 for Jenner was habitually of modest and retiring manners ; but 
 it is to the confidence which science gave, that we are indebted 
 for the introduction of vaccination. Jenner had paid much 
 attention to epizootic maladies, and the principles which he had 
 thence deduced emboldened him to persevere in an effort, in 
 which he got no positive help and scarcely any encouragement. 
 He was thoroughly sensible, however, of the heavy responsibility 
 which he was incurring. His feelings indeed, throughout his 
 whole life, with reference to this great event, do him the highest 
 
 11 
 
122 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 nonor; and we are sure that our readers will be gratified by 
 the picture which he has himself left us of his own mind, soon 
 after the successful issue of his first and most important experi- 
 ment. 
 
 " While the vaccine discovery was progressive, the joy I felt 
 at the prospect before me of being the instrument destined to 
 take away from the world one of its greatest calamities, blended 
 with the fond hope of enjoying independence and domestic peace 
 and happiness, was often so excessive that, in pursuing my fa- 
 vourite subject among the meadows, I have sometimes found my- 
 self in a kind of reverie. It is pleasant to me to recollect that 
 these reflections always ended in devout acknowledgments to 
 that Being from whom this and all other mercies flow." 
 
 The 14th of May, 1796, is usually assigned as the birth-day 
 of vaccination. At Berlin, it is still annually celebrated. On 
 that day, James Phipps, a boy eight years old, was vaccinated 
 by Dr. Jenner , on the first of July following, he was inoculated 
 with small-pox. We give the rest in the words of Jenner him- 
 self: " Listen now to the most delightful part of my story. The 
 boy has been inoculated for the small-pox, which, as I ventured 
 to predict, produced no effect ; I shall now pursue my experi- 
 ments with redoubled ardor." Most zealously, indeed, did he 
 follow up this auspicious beginning. Early in 1798, another 
 opportunity occurred of pursuing his inquiries, and he now 
 prepared for publication. Dr. Baron is silent as to the cause 
 of the non-appearance of his paper among the " Transactions of 
 the Royal Society ;" the deficiency, however, is supplied by Mr. 
 Moore, in his History of Vaccination. He was admonished not 
 to present it, lest it should injure the credit he had established 
 for himself among scientific men, by his Essay on the Cuckoo ! 
 The work, having first been carefully scrutinized by a knot of 
 his intimate associates, was at length published, about the end 
 of June, 1798. It was entitled "An Inquiry into the Causes 
 and Effects of the Variola? Vaccina?, a Disease discovered in 
 some of the Western Counties of England, particularly Glou- 
 cestershire, and known by the name of the Cow-pox." The ob- 
 ject of the work was two-fold. First, to announce the security 
 against small- pox which the true cow-pox gives; and secondly, 
 to trace the origin of that disease in the cow, to a similar affec- 
 tion of the heel of the horse. An unassuming tone pervades 
 this first Essay on Vaccination, which is very striking. The 
 author modestly suggests the probability of its usefulness in cer- 
 tain cases which he points out, but he never hints at the idea c* 
 its ultimately exterminating the small-pox. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 123 
 
 The late Mr. Cline, a steady friend and admirer of Jenner, 
 who had corresponded with him, several years before, on the 
 subject of cow-pox, was the first person in London who adopted 
 the new practice. Two months prior to the publication of his 
 book, Dr. Jenner came to town, and he remained there for three 
 weeks after its appearance; yet strange to say, with all his own 
 efforts and those of his friends, he was unable, during that long 
 period, to procure one person in the metropolis on whom he 
 could exhibit the vaccine disease. Mr. Cline's acknowledged 
 reputation gave the bent to the public mind, and before the year 
 was expired, vaccination had made rapid advances in general 
 esteem. 
 
 Mr. Cline and Sir Walter Farquhar now anxiously pressed 
 Dr. Jenner to settle as a physician in town, and it is certainly to 
 be regretted that he did not act upon their advice. Much of the 
 evil which afterwards, ensued, and some portion of that profes- 
 sional jealousy which broke out and tarnished the rising glory 
 of vaccination, would probably have been checked, had Jenner 
 been upon the spot. His presence would have directed the 
 public judgment, and nipped in the bud the insidious designs of 
 some who took a prominent part in the extraordinary scene 
 which presently displayed itself. A rush towards vaccination 
 succeeded to, and strangely contrasted with, the apathy and dis- 
 trust with which it had hitherto been viewed. It was not only 
 recommended, but practiced, by persons of all ranks and condi- 
 tions, without any knowledge of what they were really doing. 
 That this was in some degree encouraged by the confident tone 
 of those whose professional experience should have taught them 
 caution in all matters relating to the conjectural art of medicine, 
 cannot indeed be denied. Even Jenner himself is not free from 
 this censure. Within two years from the promulgation of his 
 discovery, we find him employing such strong expressions as 
 these: " The scepticism that appeared even amongst the most 
 enlightened of medical men, when my sentiments on the impor- 
 tant subject of the cow-pox were first promulgated, was highly 
 laudable. To have admitted the truth of a doctrine at once sc 
 novel and so unlike any thing that ever had appeared in the 
 annals of medicine, without the test of the most rigid scrutiny, 
 would have bordered on temerity ; but now when that scrutiny 
 has taken place, not only amongst ourselves, but in the first pro- 
 fessional circles in Europe, and when it has been uniformly 
 found, in such abundant instances, that the human frame, when 
 once it has felt the influence of the genuine cow-pox in the way 
 that has been described, is never afterwards, at any period of 
 
124 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 its existence, assailable by the small-pox, may I not with per 
 feet confidence congratulate my country and society at large, on 
 their beholding, in the mild form of the cow-pox, an antidote, 
 •hat is capable of extirpating" from the earth a disease which is 
 every hour devouring its victims, a disease that has ever been 
 considered as the severest scourge of the human race !"* 
 
 The early career of vaccination, though very brilliant, was 
 clouded by some disappointments. In the first experiments at 
 the Small-pox Hospital, the vaccine lymph became contaminated 
 with small-pox, which the physicians to that establishment could 
 not be made to believe. Some weak persons, with Dr. Moseley 
 at their head, assailed it with the shafts of ridicule; but Dr. 
 .Tenner was more annoyed by the conduct of some of those who 
 avowed themselves friends to vaccination, than by all the efforts 
 of its open enemies. Professional envy was at work, and a re- 
 gular attempt was made to wrest from Jenner's brow the laurels 
 which he had so fairly won. Instead of strictly questioning the 
 accuracy of some of Jenner's views, his opponents joined in the 
 loudest praise of vaccination, but allowed to Jenner only just 
 sufficient merit to entitle him to the appointment of extra-corres- 
 ponding physician to a vaccine institution, with the privilege of 
 recommending patients, by p^oxy, on payment of one guinea per 
 annum. The whole conduct of the physician who stood pro- 
 minently forward on this occasion, is animadverted on, in very 
 strong terms, by Dr. Baron, who, with the honest warmth of a 
 biographer, is indignant at the slight thus cast upon the hero of 
 his history. On this painful part of the subject, however, we 
 will not dwell longer, but proceed to record the gratifying tri- 
 butes to his merit which Dr. Jenner received from other quarters. 
 A strong testimony of confidence in the virtues of the cow-pox 
 was signed so early as the summer of 1799, by thirty-three of 
 the most eminent physicians, and by forty distinguished surgeons 
 of the metropolis. Early in 1800, the Duke of Clarence exerted 
 himself greatly in the cause ; and in the month of March that 
 year, Dr. Jenner was successively introduced to the Duke of 
 York, the King, the Prince of Wales, and, lastly, to the Queen, 
 all of whom received him with marked attention, and expressed 
 the interest they felt for the success of vaccination. 
 
 By these and similar proofs of the public feeling, individual 
 clamor was at length hushed ; and in the propagation of cow- 
 pox to distant regions, Jenner quickly found ample employment 
 for his time and thoughts. Dr. Baron gives copious details 
 
 * Jenner's " Continuation of Facts and Observations." 1800. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 125 
 
 concerning the mode in which this object, so dear to his heart, 
 was effected; as also concerning the persons chiefly instrumental 
 in carrying his views into effect. Many of these details possess 
 great interest, especially those which concern the introduction 
 of cow pox into the great continent of Asia; but we have no 
 space for them here. Suffice it to say, that the late Dr. Gregory 
 had the merit of introducing vaccination into Scotland, through 
 the medium of Sir Matthew Tierney. Dr. Waterhouse under- 
 took to introduce it into America, and by his perseverance and 
 talents, fully succeeded in doing so about the year 1800. The 
 earliest supporter of vaccination on the continent of Europe was 
 Dr. De Carro, of Vienna, whose exertions in the cause are be- 
 yond all praise. To him our Indian possessions are indebted 
 for the introduction of the vaccine. Dr. Sacco, of Milan, dis- 
 tinguished himself not merely as an active propagator of the 
 new practice in Italy, but by his pathological inquiries into the 
 origin of cow-pox. 
 
 Dr. Baron dedicates one chapter of his book to a detail of the 
 events connected with the first parliamentary grant to Dr. Jenner, 
 A committee was appointed to examine and report upon Dr. 
 Jenner' s claims for public remuneration. Witnesses pro and 
 con were examined. It was stated, that a farmer of the name 
 of Jesty, had actually inoculated his wife and children with cow- 
 pox matter in 1774, and that a Mrs. Rendall had caused five of 
 her children to play with the teat of a cow to secure them from 
 small-pox ; but this, as Dr. Baron observes, never advanced the 
 cause of vaccination beyond what popular rumor had already 
 done. Dr. Jenner's merit consisted in this, — that he divested 
 popular tradition of its obscurity and uncertainty, and gave the 
 aspect of science to what was formerly vague and valueless. A 
 pretty illustration of that kind of merit which belongs to Jenner 
 is given by Dr. Baron. A fish w r as preparing for dinner in the 
 kitchen of a medical man, and was accidentally placed on a table 
 in connection with two metals. The fish was thrown into con- 
 vulsions. The doctor recorded the circumstance, published an 
 account of it, and there the matter ended. The same sort of 
 thing afterwards occurred in the laboratory of Galvani. He set 
 himself to investigate the phenomenon, and the genius which 
 this effort displayed was soon rewarded by a rich harvest of dis- 
 covery. But to return to the committee of the house of commons, 
 whom we left discussing Dr. Jenner's claims. They considered 
 him well entitled to twenty thousand pounds, but Mr. Banks, 
 -he Joseph Hume of those days, wouid not agree to more than 
 ten. A vote for ten thousand pounds in favor of Dr. Jenner 
 
 11* 
 
l 26 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 passed the house on the 2d of June, 1802, by a majority ol 
 three. 
 
 It is a remarkable circumstance, that very few real improve- 
 ments in the practice of vaccination have been introduced since 
 the discovery was first announced. One of the most important 
 was the practicability of propagating the disease by scabs, for 
 which we are indebted to Mr. Bryce of Edinburgh. Of the 
 value of this addition to our knowledge concerning cow-pox, 
 Dr. Jenner was fully sensible, but he attached comparatively 
 little importance to the test, as it is called, recommended by that 
 gentleman, and known to vaccinators by his name. In this 
 opinion we think Jenner fully borne out, as f we have never been 
 able to convince ourselves that that supposed test furnishes any 
 evidence of the degree to which the constitution is affected. 
 This still remains a great desideratum. A very effectual mode 
 of preserving lymph for the use of distant countries, was in- 
 vented by two German physicians. 
 
 Honors began to pour in upon Dr. Jenner from the year 1801 
 The Dowager Empress of Russia sent him, in that year, a rinc. 
 set in diamonds. The Royal Society of Madrid elected him an 
 honorary member ; &c, &c. With a notice of these blushing 
 honors, Dr. Baron's first volume concludes. It is far from our 
 intention to anticipate the contents of that which is to come, but 
 it may be satisfactory to our readers, to have one or two dates, 
 by way of filling up the picture. In 1807, parliament recon- 
 sidered its former vote, and granted to Dr. Jenner an additional 
 sum of twenty thousand pounds. In the following year vacci- 
 nation was taken under the protection of government. The 
 National Vaccine Establishment was at first placed under the 
 immediate direction of Dr. Jenner ; but difficulties ensued, and 
 Dr. Jenner resigned. During the latter years of his life, he 
 continued to devote a great deal of his time to the subject of vac- 
 cination, but he did not publish any thing of much importance 
 concerning it after the period to which Dr. Baron brings down 
 his life. He died at Berkeley, in February, 1823, suddenly, of 
 apoplexy, in the seventy -fourth year of his age. A statue has 
 been erected to his memory in his native county, but, hitherto, 
 no adequate testimonial of national approbation has been be- 
 stowed. An anxious wish was expressed by many of the ad- 
 mirers of his genius, that his remains should be depositee in 
 Westminster Abbey, with the distinguished of the land, and 
 government were well disposed to accede to their wishes, but for 
 some reason it was thought unadvisable, and his body lies in 
 the chancel of the parish church m Berkeley. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 127 
 
 THE WILD PIGEON OF AMERICA. 
 
 In the autumn of 1813, 1 left my house at Henuerson, on the 
 banks of the Ohio, on my way to Louisville. Having met the 
 pigeons flying from north-east to south-west, in the barrens or 
 natural wastes a few miles beyond Hardensburgh, in greater ap- 
 parent numbers than I thought I had ever seen them before, I 
 felt an inclination to enumerate the flocks that would pass within 
 the reach of my eye in one hour. I dismounted, and seating 
 myself on a tolerable eminence, took my pencil to mark down 
 Avhat I saw going by and over me, and made a dot for every 
 flock which passed. 
 
 Finding, however, that this was next to impossible, and feel- 
 ing unable to record the flocks, as they multiplied constantly, I 
 rose, and counting the dots then put down, discovered that one 
 hundred and sixty-three had been made in twenty-one minutes. 
 I traveled on, and still met more the farther I went. The air 
 was literally filled with pigeons ; the light of noon-day became 
 dim, as during an eclipse ; the pigeons' dung fell in spots, not 
 unlike melting flakes of snow ; and the continued buz of their 
 wings over me, had a tendency to incline my senses to repose. 
 
 Before sunset I reached Louisville, distant from Hardensburgh 
 fifty-five miles, where the pigeons were still passing, and this 
 continued for three days in succession. 
 
 The people were indeed all up in arms, and shooting on all 
 sides at the passing flocks. The banks of the river were 
 crowded with men and children, for here the pigeons flew rather 
 low as they passed the Ohio. This gave a fair opportunity to 
 destroy them in great numbers. For a week or more the pop- 
 ulation spoke of nothing but pigeons, and fed on no other flesh 
 but that of pigeons. The whole atmosphere during this time was 
 strongly impregnated with the smell appertaining to their species. 
 
 It may not, perhaps, be out of place, to attempt an estimate of 
 the number of pigeons contained in one of those mighty flocks, 
 and the quantity of food daily consumed by its members. The 
 inquiry will show the astonishing bounty of the Creator in his 
 works, and how universally this bounty has been granted to 
 every living thing on that vast continent of America. 
 
 We shall take, for example, a column of one mile in breadth, 
 which is far below the average size, and suppose it passing over 
 us without interruption for three hours, at the rate of one mile 
 per minute. This will give us a parallelogram of one hundred 
 and eighty miles by one, covering one hundred and eighty square 
 
128 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 miles, and allowing two pigeons to the square yard, we have one 
 billion one hundred and fifteen millions one hundred and thirty- 
 six thousand pigeons in one flock ; and as every pigeon consumes 
 fully half a pint of food per day, the quantity must be eight, 
 millions seven hundred and twelve thousand bushels per day, 
 which is required to feed such a flock. 
 
 As soon as these birds discover a sufficiency of food to en- 
 tice them to alight, they fly round in circles, reviewing the 
 country below, and at this time exhibit their phalanx in all the 
 beauties of their plumage; now displaying a large glistening 
 sheet of bright azure, by exposing their backs to view, and sud- 
 denly veering, exhibit a mass of rich deep purple. They then 
 pass lower over the woods, and are lost among the foliage for a 
 moment, but they reappear as suddenly above ; after which they 
 alight, and, as if affrighted, the whole again take to wing with 
 a roar equal to loud thunder, and wander swiftly through the forest 
 to see if danger is near. Impelling hunger, however, soon brings 
 them all to the ground, and then they are seen industriously throw- 
 ing up the fallen leaves to seek for the last beechnut or acorn ; 
 the rear ranks continually rising, passing over, and alighting in 
 front in such quick succession, that the whole still bears the ap- 
 pearance of being on the wing. The quantity of ground thus 
 swept up, or to use a French expression, moissonee, is astonish- 
 ing; and so clean is the work, that gleaners never find it worth 
 their while to follow where the pigeons have been. On such 
 occasions, when the woods are thus filled with them, they are 
 killed in immense numbers, yet without any apparent diminu- 
 tion. During the middle of the day, after their repast is fin- 
 ished, the whole settle on the trees to enjoy rest, and digest 
 their food ; but as the sun sinks in the horizon, they depart en 
 masse for the roosting-place, not unfrequently hundreds of miles 
 off, as has been ascertained by persons keeping account of their 
 arrival and of their departure from their curious roosting-places, 
 to which I must now conduct the reader. 
 
 To one of those general nightly rendezvous, not far from the 
 banks of Green river in Kentucky, I paid repeated visits. It 
 was, as is almost always the case, pitched in a portion of the 
 forest where the trees were of great magnitude of growth, but 
 with little underwood. I rode through it lengthwise upwards 
 of forty miles, and crossed it in different parts, ascertaining its 
 width to be rather more than three miles. My first view of it 
 was about a fortnight subsequent to the period when they had 
 chosen this spot, and I arrived there nearly two hours before 
 'he setting of the sun. Few pigeons were then to be seen, but 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 120 
 
 a great number of persons with horses and wagons, guns, and 
 ammunition, had already established different camps on the bor- 
 ders. Two farmers from the neighborhood of Russelsville, 
 distant more than one hundred miles, had driven upwards of 
 three hundred hogs to be fattened on pigeon-meat ; and here and 
 there the people, employed in picking and salting what had al- 
 ready been procured, were seen sitting in the centre of large 
 piles of those birds, all proving to me that the number resorting 
 there at night must be immense, and probably consisting of all 
 those then feeding in Indiana, some distance beyond Jefferson- 
 ville, not less than one hundred and fifty miles off The dung 
 of the birds was several inches deep, covering the whole extent 
 of the roosting-place like a bed of snow. Many trees two feet 
 in diameter I observed were broken at no great distance from 
 the ground, and the branches of many of the largest and tallest 
 so much so, that the desolation already exhibited equalled that 
 performed by a furious tornado. As the time elapsed, I saw 
 each of the anxious persons about to prepare for action ; some 
 with sulphur in iron pots, others with torches of pine knots, 
 many with poles, and the rest with guns, double and treble 
 charged. The sun was lost to our view, yet not a pigeon had 
 yet arrived. But all of a sudden I heard a cry of " Here they 
 come /" The noise which they made, though distant, reminded 
 me of a hard gale at sea, passing through the rigging of a close- 
 reefed vessel. As the birds arrived, and passed over me, I felt 
 a current of air that surprised me. Thousands were soon 
 knocked down by the pole-men. The current of birds, however, 
 kept still increasing. The fires were lighted, and a most mag- 
 nificent, as well as wonderful and terrifying sight was before 
 me. The pigeons, coming in by millions, alighted every where 
 one on the top of another, until masses of them resembling hang- 
 ing swarms of bees as large as hogsheads, were formed on every 
 tree in all directions. These heavy clusters were seen to give 
 way, as the supporting branches, breaking down with a crash, 
 came to the ground, killing hundreds of those which obstructed 
 their fall, forcing down other equally large and heavy groups, 
 and rendering the whole a scene of uproar and of distressing 
 confusion. I found it quite useless to speak, or even to shout to 
 those persons nearest me. The reports even of the different 
 guns were seldom heard, and I knew only of their going off 
 by seeing the owners reload them. 
 
 No person dared venture within the line of devastation, and 
 the hogs had been penned up in due time, the picking up of the 
 dead and wounded sufferers being: left for the next morning's 
 
130 HISTORICAL CABINET, 
 
 operation. Still the pigeons were constantly coming, and it was 
 past midnight before I perceived a decrease in the number of 
 those that arrived. The uproar continued, however, the whole 
 night ; and as I was anxious to know to what distance the sound 
 reached, I sent off a man, who, by his habits in the woods, was 
 able to tell me, two hours afterwards, that at three miles he 
 heard it distinctly. Towards the approach of day the noise 
 rather subsided ; but long ere objects were at all distinguishable, 
 the pigeons began to move off in a direction quite different from 
 that in which they arrived the day before, and at sunrise none 
 that were able to fly remained. The howlings of the wolves 
 now reached our ears, and the foxes, the lynx, the cougars, bears, 
 rackoons, opossums, and pole-cats, were seen sneaking off the 
 spot, whilst the eagles and hawks of different species, supported 
 by a horde of buzzards and carrion crows, came to supplant them, 
 and reap the benefits of this night of destruction. 
 
 It was then that I, and all those present, began our entry 
 among the dead and wounded sufferers. They were picked up 
 in great numbers, until each had as many as eould possibly be 
 disposed of; and afterwards the hogs and dogs were let loose to 
 feed on the remainder. — Account of the Wild Pigeon of 
 America, By Mr. John James Audubon; Dr. Brewster' s 
 Journal of Science. 
 
 MASSACRE IN GLEN-COE. 
 
 This frightful glen was the theater of a massacre not often 
 paralleled, and the recital of which cannot fail to make the mind 
 shudder with horror. It appears that many of the sturdy and 
 high-spirited Scottish chieftains, from an attchment to the fallen 
 fortunes of the Stuarts, submitted to the Act of Settlement in fa- 
 vor of King William with reluctance. The Earl of Breadal- 
 bane undertook to reconcile the malcontents to this political 
 change ; but meeting with difficulties in his way, he resolved to 
 be revenged upon those who embarrassed his mission, and par- 
 ticularly selected Macdonald, of Glen-Coe, against whom he had 
 a private pique, as an object devoted to destruction. According- 
 ly he represented him at court as an incorrigible rebel. He 
 told the king that Macdonald had got his majesty's proclamation, 
 which offered an indemnity to all who had been in arms against 
 him, upon submission, and taking the oaths of allegiance, before 
 the expiration of a year, but threatened with military execution 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 131 
 
 those who should hold out after the first of December, and that 
 Macdonald refused to take the oaths, alleging that the government 
 had nothing to apprehend from his doing so, as he always intend- 
 ed to keep his opinions to himself. In the mean time, however, 
 Macdonald, overpowered by the persuasion of his family and 
 friends, on the last day of the month, repaired to Fort William, 
 and requested of Col. Hill, the then governor, to tender the oath to 
 him, which the governor declined, on account of his not being a 
 magistrate; upon which Macdonald set off for Inverary. He tra- 
 veled with such swiftness, although the snow lay deep upon 
 the ground, that he arrived there within one day after the period 
 of indemnity had expired. Sir John Campbell, sheriff of the 
 county, in consideration of his disappointment at Fort William, 
 administered the oath to him and his adherents, and they re- 
 turned to Glen-Coe, full of confidence in the protection of gov- 
 ernment. 
 
 In consequence of Breadalbane's representations, the king, 
 with the most unfeeling composure, signed an order for putting 
 about two hundred persons out of the protection of the pro- 
 clamation ; and a warrant to this effect was issued to the Laird 
 of Stair, secretary of state for Scotland, who sent orders to Liv- 
 ingstone, the commander-in-chief, to put the unhappy inhabit- 
 ants of Glen-Coe to the sword, that the rest of the refractory 
 clans might be impressed with terror by the example. 
 
 In consequence of an order from Major Duncannon, Captain 
 Campbell, of Glen-Lyon, marched at the head of his company 
 into the valley of Glen-Coe early in the month of February, 
 1691, on pretence of levying the arrears of the land-tax and 
 hearth money. Macdonald demanded of the officer the object 
 of such a visit, who answered, upon his honor, that he meant no 
 injury either to him or to his people. In consequence of this 
 declaration, Campbell and his soldiers were kindly received, 
 and treated in the most hospitable manner for fifteen days. At 
 length the horrible hour of unsuspected slaughter approached. 
 The Laird and Lady of Glen-Coe, and Campbell with some of 
 his officers, spent the day together, in the evening playing at 
 cards, and parted early, with mutual expressions of esteem. In 
 the course of the evening, young Macdonald observed that the 
 guards were doubled ; and, from other appearances among the 
 soldiers, he suspected treachery, and communicated his sus- 
 picions to his father, whose confidence in the honor of Camp- 
 bell made him revolt at the idea. The young man, neverthe- 
 less continued firm in his opinion, and at nightfall went, accom- 
 panied by his brother, amongst the soldiers, to make further ob- 
 10 
 
132 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 servations : upon approaching a guard, they overheard a senti- 
 nel express his dislike to the meditated business of blood to his 
 comrade, observing, that he should have no objection to fight the 
 Macdonalds in the held fairly, but that his soul revolted at butch- 
 ering them in cold blood. " However," added he, " our offi- 
 cers are answerable for the treachery." Upon this the young 
 men hastened back with the intelligence to their father ; but the 
 dreadful massacre had already commenced. Before they reach- 
 ed their home, the volleys of death and the shrieks of despair 
 rang through the glen, and, being unarmed, they endeavored 
 to preserve their lives by flight. The ferocious soldiery entered 
 the chamber of the brave Macdonald, and upon his starting up, 
 they shot him through the head, and he fell dead in the arms of 
 his agonized wife, who died distracted with horror on the ensu- 
 ing day. Thirty-eight persons were cruelly butchered in their 
 beds. The design was to murder all under seventy years of 
 ige, amounting to about two hundred persons; but some de- 
 tachments, happily for the survivors, did not arrive in time to 
 secure the passes, and in consequence one hundred and sixty 
 providentially escaped. 
 
 When these savage assassins had completed the massacre, 
 they seized all the property they could find, set fire to the houses, 
 and drove the cattle away. The night was one of the bitterest 
 of the winter ; when the day broke upon this horrible scene, 
 numbers of women, who, with their infants, had fled naked from 
 their murderers, were found frozen to death with their children, 
 under rocks and hedges, at some distance from the glen ! 
 
 Upon a representation of this barbarous outrage to the king, 
 he endeavoured to throw the responsibility from his own head 
 upon those who induced him to sign the sanguinary order ; but, 
 as he never punished the perpetrators of this horrible massacre 
 with becoming vigor, it justly remains an indelible blot upon 
 his character, and to this day he is termed Old Glen-Coe among 
 die Catholics of Scotland and Ireland. 
 
 VOYAGE OF HEEMSKIRK AND BARENTZ, TO THE POLAR 
 REGIONS. 
 
 In 1596, two ships were fitted out at Amsterdam, in Holland, 
 which were sent to the northern coast of Europe, to find a 
 north-east passage to the East Indies. The command of the 
 ships was given to James Heemskirk ; and those next in com- 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 133 
 
 mand were William Barentz, in one of the ships, and John 
 Cornelius Ryp, in the other. It was in the beginning of 
 May, 1596, that our mariners sailed from Amsterdam; on the 
 1 Oth they passed Ulieland, (one of the islands which form the 
 boundary of the Zuyder Zee,) and entered the northern Ocean. 
 
 The weather was beautiful, and the wind favorable; so they 
 sailed swiftly, and in about four days found themselves in view 
 of the Shetland islands. They then steered directly for the 
 North Pole. In a few days they found themselves close by 
 Iceland, in that part of the Northern Ocean where they had 
 imagined the Northern Polar Circle was. By the first of June 
 they had passed the seventieth degree of north latitude. On 
 this day to their surprise, the sun did not set ; for they were 
 now in regions where, during this season, the sun remains on 
 the horizon for some months, appearing to travel round it in 
 twenty-four hours. 
 
 On the 5th of July, those who where upon deck, raised a. 
 great shout, and called their companions to see an immense 
 number of Swans, which were coming towards them ; but when 
 they looked at the object for a while, they found that their com- 
 rades were deceived, and had mistaken lumps of ice, covered 
 with snow, for swans. 
 
 Our navigators sailed some days longer through lumps of 
 ice, which were larger the farther they advanced. 
 
 On the 9th of July, they saw land ; they examined their maps 
 to see what country it was, but no land was laid down here; 
 so they concluded this to be an unknown country. They sail- 
 ed round the coast, and soon saw distinctly that it was an island 
 of about eight leagues in length. Having anchored, some of 
 them got into a boat, and went on shore. The first things they 
 saw were a great number of sea-gull's eggs; \hese they care- 
 fully gathered up for that night's supper. 
 
 On the day following, they weighed anchor,, and continued 
 to sail to the north. In the evening, that is to say, our time of 
 sunset, they saw a large object floating on the sea, which at first 
 they thought was an island, but, when they came nearer, they 
 found it was a dead whale, upon which were a great many sea- 
 gulls devouring its fat with great avidity. 
 
 On the 17tn and 18th of July, they were obliged to make 
 their way through much floating ice, still steering to the north, 
 until at last they arrived at a small island ; it was one of those 
 which lie south of Spitzbergen. 
 
 On the day following our mariners saw land again ; this they 
 
 12 
 
134 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 thought was a part of Greenland ; but finding it was not so, 
 they gave it the name of Spitzberg. 
 
 On the 21st of Ju^y, they cast anchor within sight of this 
 land, and some of the crew went on shore to look for ballast. 
 
 This country is one of the coldest and most desert in the 
 world. When beheld from a distance, at sea, nothing is perceiv- 
 ed but rugged mountains, and those are composed partly of ice 
 and snow, and partly of rocks and stones. With the exception 
 of a few herbs, and a little moss, which spring here and there, 
 there grows not a single plant, nor a tree, nor a bush in this 
 land. It is only in the months of July and August that there 
 is the slightest resemblance to summer, and even this short in- 
 terval of pleasant weather is often interrupted by wintry scenes : 
 storms are very rare in these climates. The long winter nights 
 which last four months, are rendered in some degree support- 
 able, by the frequent and brilliant appearance of the northern 
 lights. 
 
 Amongst the small number of plants which grow here, the 
 wild celery and scurvy-grass are particularly distinguishable ; it 
 is not without beneficent views that the hand of Providence 
 has disseminated them, for they form an excellent preventive 
 against scorbutic complaints, to which sailors are particularly 
 exoosed. 
 
 They sailed for some days along the coast of this desert 
 country, casting anchor in several places, and going in their 
 boats to shore. But not finding any thing there worthy of de- 
 lay, they resolved to continue their voyage, to fulfill, if possible, 
 the important design with which they had set out. 
 
 Now the difficulty arose, whither should they steer their 
 course? and upon this point the opinions of the two captains 
 were divided. Cornelius Ryp thought it would be better to ad- 
 vance more to the north, in hopes of finding the sea free from 
 ice. Barentz was of an opposite opinion: he thought they had 
 already proceeded too far towards the Pole, and that it was ne- 
 cessary now to steer a little to the south. They disputed for a 
 long time, and at last, not being able to agree, they determined 
 to take the route which each liked best. It was thus that the 
 two vessels were separated. Cornelius sailed to the north, and 
 Barentz to the south, both with the design of turning afterwards 
 to the east. This separation took place on the first of July. 
 Heemskirk and Barentz continued to sail along the coast, but 
 were obliged perpetually to open a way for themselves through 
 the ice. When they could not proceed, they fastened the ves- 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 135 
 
 sel to a mass of ice, and waited until the wind opened a pas- 
 sage for them. 
 
 On the 10th of August, the ice broke and began to float 
 again. The only mass which remained immovable, was that 
 to which the vessel was fastened, though others of considerable 
 magnitude came crash against it, as they passed ; by this they 
 knew it rested at the bottom of the sea. 
 
 The ice now began alternately to unite and separate ; so that 
 our poor half-frozen adventurers were obliged to work hard to 
 open a passage in the best way they could, whilst the sea was 
 in motion. During this work they were perpetually in danger 
 of being crushed by the floating ice, which it required great 
 precaution and address to avoid. Besides this, they now and 
 then received an unwelcome visit from a bear. Sometimes great 
 battles arose, but the men were always victorious. By means 
 of great exertion they at length gained the northern extremity 
 of this land, and began to double it. Some of the crew having 
 been sent on shore, and having mounted upon a high rock, 
 thought they observed that the sea to the east was not covered 
 with ice. This was a great source of joy to these poor fellows ; 
 they hastened as soon as possible to carry the good news to the 
 vessel, and all listened to it with demonstrations of joy. " Be 
 moderate in your joy, my good friends ; the hopes of men are 
 often deceitful, and who knows whether yours will not vanish ?" 
 And so a Jas ! it happened on the day following : for when they 
 began to sail where the evening before they thought the sea 
 was free, they found it so full of masses of ice, that they were 
 obliged to work hard to regain the coast of Nova Zembla. 
 They attempted the same thing more than once, but always in 
 vain. They then entirely abandoned their design, that of find* 
 ing a north-east passage to China ; and all they wished was to 
 be able to sail dow r n the eastern coast of Nova Zembla, and thus 
 reach the continent of Asia. 
 
 With this view, they steered to the south, every time the ice 
 was in movement. But before they had proceeded far, the ice 
 struck the vessel with such force, that they thought every mo- 
 ment it would have been smashed. At one time the prow of 
 the vessel was elevated, at another time the stern ; then it would 
 become level, but immovable, as though it were walled in. 
 
 On the 29th of August, the vessel being in this situation, the 
 sailors tried with various instruments to break and separate 
 these masses of ice. On the 30th, the ice again began to float; 
 a cold and piercing wind, with a fall of snow, drove the detach- 
 ed pieces against the ship with such dreadful force, that it was 
 
136 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 expected \t would be shivered to pieces every minute. As the 
 ice collected together more on that side of the vessel where the 
 current was, than on the other, they thought it would have been 
 upset ; but at last it collected together on the other side, so that 
 the vessel was perched upon an eminence as if it had been 
 hoisted by pulleys or other machines. Afterwards other masses 
 came and joined themselves to those which were at the prow, 
 and raised it four or five feet higher than the stern, but presently 
 others came and raised the stern also. The wind whistled ; there 
 was nothing to be heard but the clashing of the cordage covered 
 with ice, the crashing of the vessel in all its joints, and the bel- 
 lowing of the frozen sea, amidst a direful dashing of mountains 
 of ice. Our navigators, who were expecting every moment to 
 see the total destruction of the ship, put the long boat and small 
 boat upon the ice, that these might be safe if that were broken 
 in pieces. Thus desperately were they situated, about the 2d 
 of September, when the vessel was again raised aloft by the 
 masses of ice, which came with violence, and now broke it in 
 several places. As they thought by this that the vessel was 
 within a little of being destroyed, they put three casks of bis- 
 cuits, and two small casks of wine into the small boat, and took 
 them to land. On the 3d, the ice bound it still tighter ; and the 
 strong beam at the stern, to which the helm was fastened, broke 
 off. The cable of the chief anchor, and another em irely new 
 by which they had fastened the vessel to a great rock of ice, 
 broke like packthread. The hulk of the vessel, however, with- 
 stood the violence of the ice in a surprising manner. On the 
 5th, it was cast upon the coast but dia not break. There was 
 no hope, however, that it would long resist all this violence ; 
 therefore the sailors continued to convey to shore what things 
 were most necessary, such as powder, balls, fire-arms, biscuit, 
 wine, tools of every description, and old sails. With these lat- 
 ter they made a tent to preserve what they had brought. 
 
 Some of the crew, who had gone into the interior of the 
 country, returned with the joyful intelligence, that they had 
 found a river of fresh water, and a quantity of wood floating 
 by its side. These were trees, which the wind and sea had 
 torn from the coast of the continent, and carried to the cold 
 countries of the Frozen Ocean, where there was a scarcity. 
 This news gave them hopes that they might be enabled to pass 
 a long and severe winter, in this cold and desert country. 
 They determined, therefore, to build a hut, which would de- 
 fend them in some degree from the dreadful cold, and from the 
 Cerocious beasts : but the severe frosts, together with high winds 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 137 
 
 and falls of snow, threw so many obstacles in their way, that 
 they were four weeks in accomplishing it. The cold increased 
 every day to such a degree, that our navigators could not keep 
 themselves warm on the mid-deck, where the fire was ; they 
 were obliged to put up a fire-place at the bottom of the hold, 
 and then the whole vessel was so filled with smoke, that no 
 one would have thought it possible to remain there without 
 being smothered. On the 23d the master-carpenter died. The 
 ground was frozen too hard for them to dig a grave, so they 
 buried him in a cave in a mountain. The whole crew now 
 consisted of only sixteen persons, and of these there was often 
 one ill. Towards the end of September, the cold was so in- 
 tense, that the men were obliged to relinquish the building of 
 the hut, because their limbs were absolutely transfixed with 
 cold, and the floating wood which they used in its construction 
 was covered with snow. In order, however, to forward the 
 work a little, they took the wood of the hammocks out of the 
 ship, to make a roof, and otherwise furnish the hut. This em- 
 ployed them fifteen days, during which the cold was so dread- 
 ful, that the strongest sailors could not go thirty steps without 
 risking their lives. Meanwhile the vessel remained in the 
 same desperate situation ; the nights became longer, and the 
 condition of the poor voyagers still more pitiable. 
 
 It was about the 12th of October, when part of the crew pre- 
 pared to lodge in the hut, which was almost completed ; but 
 they had nothing to lie upon, neither could they light a 
 fire, for there was no chimney. They continued to render 
 the cabin more commodious, by taking from the ship what- 
 ever was useful, and thus as much as possible alleviate their 
 misery. 
 
 Amongst the provisions, the preservation of which much 
 concerned them, there were some casks of beer : of this luxury 
 they thought they should have been deprived, for in conveying 
 it to the hut, the beer was frozen into ice, so that the casks, even 
 those bound with iron, burst. They were not, however, on 
 this account, the less careful of their icy beer, although they 
 found, from the first attempt, that in melting it at the fire, it 
 lost all its flavor and strength. On the 24th, the remainder of 
 the creAv, in number eight, went to the hut; one poor man 
 was obliged to be draAvn upon a sledge, being too ill to gc 
 without assistance. They drew the long boat also, with in- 
 credible labor, to the hut, for every hope of a future deliver 
 ance rested on it, in case they should live through the long ana 
 severe winter. It was in vain to think any more of preserv- 
 
 12* 
 
138 
 
 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 ing the large vessel — it was fixed in the ice. The agreeable 
 light of the sun shone upon them for a few hours in the day; 
 but this blessing was soon to leave them. The segment of a 
 circle which this orb described above the horizon, every day 
 became smaller, and now it did not rise more than a hand's 
 breadth above it ; of course the sailors made the best of their 
 time in carrying the rest of the provisions, the sails, and cord- 
 age to the hut. The last time that a party of them went to 
 the vessel for this purpose, one of them saw three bears coming, 
 and set up a great shout to frighten them. The sailors imme- 
 diately left the ropes by which they had dragged the sledge, 
 and fled for safety to the vessel ; but Heemskirk and another 
 previously armed themselves with halberds, which they found 
 upon the sledge, and going to the opposite side of the ship, 
 successfully got on board. The others provided themselves 
 with fire-arms, but these were so much out of order that they 
 were of no use. Meanwhile the furious animals made every 
 attempt to climb up the vessel ; and would no doubt have suc- 
 ceeded, had they not been diverted by lumps of wood and other 
 things which the sailors threw at them, and which they, like 
 dogs that are taught to fetch and carry, always ran after. At 
 last, one of the crew threAV a halberd at the largest, which 
 struck him so forcibly in the snout, that he was obliged to re- 
 tire, and the two smaller ones followed him, so that the sailors 
 were at liberty to return to the hut. A few days after, they 
 caught a white fox, which they roasted, and found to have 
 nearly the same flavor as a rabbit. 
 
 On the 4th November following, the sun did not shine at all; 
 and this was the beginning of the long night of which they 
 could hardly hope to see the end. But, as an all-merciful Pro- 
 vidence mingles in every cup of grief some drops of consolation, 
 so to this evil he conjoined some circumstances well adapted to 
 render it less frightful ; for from the day when the sun disap- 
 peared, the bears migrated, apparently to pass their winter in a 
 more southerly region. The moon also, taking the place of 
 the sun, made the tour of the horizon without setting ; and the 
 sky was most frequently illuminated by brilliant northern lights, 
 which rendered it as light as it is with us on a cloudy day. All 
 these things consoled our poor friends, and recompensed them 
 in some degree, for the absence of the pleasant daylight. But 
 now there was a difficulty in distinguishing the seasons of day 
 and night, especially when a cloudy sky concealed from them 
 the situation of the moon and stars. They had brought a clock 
 from the vessel ; but the violence of the cold prevented it from 
 
Re-appearance of the sun at Nova Zembla.— Page 139. 
 
 Charles XII. of Sweden.— Page 147. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 139 
 
 going. They made a lamp, which, as they had no oil, they sup- 
 plied from the fat of a bear 
 
 On the 24th of January, being a fine day, Captain Heemskirk 
 went to the coast with two companions to survey the ice. Sud- 
 denly one of them discovered a part of the disc of the sun ap- 
 pearing above the horizon. The joy which these people felt is 
 beyond all description ; they ran in haste to announce the good 
 nevys in the hut; all heard it with rapture. Barentz alone, who 
 understood something of astronomy, shook his head and doubt- 
 ed the truth of the circumstance; because, according to hi? 
 calculations, the sun would not be visible for fifteen days : — ■ 
 how could it be then ? Three days after, the sun, in all his 
 grandeur and beauty, appeared above the horizon, darting hi? 
 delightful rays upon this icy region. What a sight for our ma- 
 riners ! their hearts beat with joy. Barentz was surprised ; he 
 calculated again, and still found that the sun shone not accord- 
 ing to the common order of nature. He convinced his com- 
 panions of the rectitude of his calculations, and all were as aston- 
 ished as himself. 
 
 The cold continued severe until the 15th of April. On this 
 day they went to visit the vessel, and found it in the same hope- 
 less situation in which they had left it. The ice around it had 
 acquired an enormous thickness, and presented the most sin- 
 gular appearance. In one place might be seen a tower rear- 
 ing its head aloft; in another there appeared to be streets lined 
 with houses ; in another there were bulwarks and a rampart ; 
 farther off the sea appeared breaking through the ice, and 
 making way for itself. At this sight hope was kindled in the 
 minds of all. But Heemskirk had resolved to wait till the end 
 of the month of May, that he might not be reproached with 
 having too hastily renounced the hope of saving the vessel, 
 through an excessive care for his own preservation. The end 
 of May arrived ; but the vessel still remained blocked up. The 
 ice which held it seemed to be attached to the bottom of the sea, 
 for it remained immovable, whilst the distant ice was breaking 
 and hurried away by the wind. The captain ordered his men 
 to drag the long-boat and the smaller one from under the snow 
 in which they were buried, that they might equip them, as well 
 as they could, for the long and dangerous voyage they were about 
 to undertake. 
 
 Tne whole month, however, passed away whilst they were 
 refitting them; and often were they in imminent danger of be- 
 ing devoured by the ferocious bears which attacked them. Some- 
 s' mes the weather grew milder, and the sea began to be free ; 
 
140 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 but frequently a single blast from the north, would bring bacto 
 the most dreadful cold, and cover the whole sea with ice. 
 
 For the first days of June, they were employed in sliding 
 the boats over the ice towards the vessel, that when every thing 
 was ready, they might slide them still further to the end of the 
 ice, and launch them into the water. The following days were 
 employed in clearing the hut, and conveying to the vessel, which 
 was about half the distance to the clear sea, every thing that 
 might be of use to them in their dangerous voyage. 
 
 The boats were at last launched, and their cargoes prepared. 
 Every thing that the water could injure was carefully wrapped 
 up in sails, and dipped in pitch, so that the water could not pierce 
 through. The whole cargo consisted of six bales of fine 
 2loth, one chest of linen, two bales of velvet, two small casks 
 full of money, two casks of cordage, and linen for the crew, 
 three casks of biscuit, one of cheese, one of bacon, two of oil, 
 six of wine, and two of vinegar, besides the clothes of the crew. 
 There was but just room in the vessels for all these things. 
 
 It was on the 17th of June, 1597, that our navigators set sail. 
 There were at this time two invalids, Barentz and a sailor. 
 One was put into one boat, and the other into the other, that they 
 might be better taken care of. Cheerfully and courageously 
 did they begin this voyage, which, probably, had not had its 
 equal in dangers, since the creation of the world. Their un- 
 dertaking was nothing less than to sail more than three hundred 
 and fifty leagues in two wretched boats, without cover, in a cli- 
 mate, too, which, in the midst of summer, is as severe as our 
 winter, and in seas where masses of ice, sometimes adhering, 
 sometimes torn asunder by the wind, crash one against another. 
 
 They had not proceeded far northward, before they were so 
 inclosed by ice that they could proceed no farther. They cast 
 anchor on the ice, and waited until it should again be in move- 
 ment and make way for them. Meanwhile they employed 
 .hemselves in melting snow at the fire, to procure fresh Avater. 
 Before long, they were able to continue their voyage ; the wind 
 was favorable, and the rowers exerted themselves so much that 
 on the third day they reached the northern extremity of Nova 
 Zembla. The poor invalids every day grew worse, though 
 Barentz, when asked how he was, always answered " that he 
 was better, and hoped soon to recover." He asked if they had 
 got to the Icy Cape ? and being told that they were then near 
 it, he desired to be raised up, that he might look at it. On 
 the following day, as they were sailing between lumps of ice, 
 some of them came with such violence against the boats that 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 141 
 
 the crew were very much terrified, expecting every blow to 
 shatter them in pieces. The current carried them with such 
 impetuosity, that it was impossible to avoid them, or keep them 
 off by means of poles, and there were so many of them, that 
 the boats could not make any way through them. Now the 
 boldest lost their courage; all believed themselves lost, and 
 already began to take their last farewell. However, one of the 
 crew, by name Van Veer, who on other occasions had shown 
 himself remarkable for his courage, now resolved to risk his 
 life to save that of the rest. With one end of the cable in his 
 hand, he leaped out of the vessel, and leaping from one piece 
 of ice to another, at length, contrary to all expectation, arrived 
 safely at the firm pieces ; then drawing the rope, the boats 
 which were fastened together yielded to his exertions, and 
 reached the wished for harbor. Their first care was that of 
 the sick. They carried them on the ice in blankets and placed 
 something under them to lie down upon. Then they unloaded 
 the boats that they might lift them on the ice and repair them, 
 for they were a good deal injured. Then they went on the 
 land to which the ice was attached, to look for bird's eggs foi 
 the invalids ; but only caught a few birds. The next day they 
 beheld the whole sea, far and near, covered with ice. This 
 was a sad and discouraging prospect, and it appeared as if they 
 had come thus far only to render their state more deplorable 
 and to increase their misery. 
 
 Those who were well, almost envied Andriff, their sick com 
 panion, when they saw him draw near his end ; for they thought 
 he would soon be happy, and delivered from all his misery. 
 Barentz, hearing them speak, said his death also was at hand ; 
 but as he was occupied in examining a map of their route, 
 drawn up by Van Veer, they did not think him so ill as he said ; 
 and they conversed on other subjects. Barentz soon laid the 
 map aside, and asked for some drink ; but hardly had he swal- 
 lowed it, when suddenly leaning his head, he expired, to the 
 great regret of his companions. In him they lost a brave com- 
 rade and a skillful pilot : upon him in this latter character, they 
 had founded, in a great measure, their hope of success in this 
 dangerous enterprise: a little while after, the sailor Andriff 
 expired also. They were obliged to remain four days in this 
 dangerous situation, because the ice with which the sea was 
 covered was as immovable as a wall. On the fifth day, however, 
 the 22d of June, there arose a south-east wind, which unshack- 
 led the sea. Forthwith our sailors packed up every thing in 
 the boats, and dragged them about fifty steps, to the water ; but 
 
142 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 hardly had set them afloat, when with much lahor they were 
 obliged again to drag them over some ice which impeded their 
 progress, until at last they came to navigable water. Here they 
 continued to sail, but not without meeting new interruptions. 
 
 It was upon the 3d of August, after having undergone in 
 numerable hardships, that they at last reached the southern ex- 
 tremity of the desolate region : all weakened beyond expression ; 
 all attacked with the scurvy, which threatened to exterminate 
 them before they could reach the continent. But there is a 
 proverb equally true and consoling, " that the Divine assistance 
 is the most extended in the seasons of the greatest misery. ' 
 This is what they experienced ; for when they landed for the 
 first time, they found a quantity of herbs, which they knew 
 were an excellent remedy against their complaints, and which 
 they might eat in their natural state ; so they ate heartily, and 
 the effect surpassed their highest expectations. Before this, 
 their teeth were loosened, so that they could not eat biscuits ; 
 but now they could eat what they pleased, or rather what they 
 had, and that was not much, their provisions being very nearly 
 consumed. 
 
 After having met with some difficulties, on account of the ice, 
 they reached the coast of Russia on the 5th, and on the 12th had 
 the pleasure of seeing a Russian bark coming full sail towards 
 them. Having obtained a quantity of provisions from the Rus- 
 sians, they arrived at the cape and island of Candenos, situated 
 at the entrance of the White Sea ; from this point they crossed 
 over to the western coast, inhabited by the Laplanders, where 
 they found a few huts occupied by thirteen Russians, two Lap- 
 landers, their wives, and a child. From this place they pro- 
 ceeded to Kola, where they were overjoyed in finding Corne- 
 lius Ryp and his companions. At Kola they obtained permis- 
 sion of the Russian government, to place their two boats in the 
 Exchange, that they might remain as a monument of the long 
 and surprising voyage they had made. On the 15th of Septem- 
 ber, they weighed anchor, and reached Amsterdam, without 
 any other adventure, November 1st, 1597. 
 
 CHARLES XII. OF SWEDEN. 
 
 Charles XII. of Sweden, was born 27th June, 1682. From 
 his earliest years he glowed to imitate the heroic character of 
 Alexander ; and in his eagerness to reign, he caused himself to 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 143 
 
 be declared king- at the age of fifteen, and at his coronation bold* 
 ly seized the crown from the hands of the Archbishop of Upsal, 
 and set it on his own head. His youth seemed to invite the 
 attacks of his neighbors of Poland, Denmark, and Russia : but 
 Charles, una wed by the prospect of hostilities, and though scarce 
 eighteen, wisely determined to assail his enemies, one after the 
 other. He besieged Copenhagen, and by his vigorous measures 
 so terrified the Danish monarch, that in less than six weeks he 
 obliged him to sue for peace. From humbled Denmark, Charles 
 marched against the Russians ; and though at the head of only 
 8000 men, he attacked the enemy, who were besieging Narva 
 with 100,000 men. The conflict was dreadful; 30,000 were 
 slain, 20,000 asked for quarters, and the rest were taken or de- 
 stroyed ; while the Swedes had only 1200 killed, and 800 wound- 
 ed. From Narva, the victorious monarch advanced into Poland, 
 defeated the Saxons who opposed his march, and obliged the 
 Polish King, in suing for peace, to renounce his crown, and to 
 acknowledge Stanislaus for his successor. 
 
 Had Charles been now reconciled to the Russians, he might 
 have become a great monarch, as he was a successful warrior ; 
 but the hope of future triumphs flattered his ambition, and as if 
 determined to dethrone the Czar, he advanced into Ukraine, 
 whilst his enemies fled on every side. The Battle of Pultowa, 
 however, proved unfortunate, "in July, 1709, Charles, defeated 
 and wounded, fled from the field, and sought protection at Ben- 
 der, from the Turks. His affairs were now desperate ; the ban- 
 ished Augustus was restored to the Polish throne, and the Grand 
 Seignor, tired of his guest, wished him to remove from his do- 
 minions. 
 
 Charles, with only forty domestics, opposed for some days a 
 Turkish army, and when obliged to submit, he suddenly feigned 
 sickness, and during ten months he lay in bed. At last he left 
 his confinement with only two faithful attendants, and, traveling- 
 post, reached, in eleven days, Stralsund, from which he crossed 
 to Sweden. 
 
 Untamed by misfortunes, he immediately invaded Norway, 
 with an army of 20,000 men, but at the siege of Fredericks- 
 hall, while visiting the works, he was struck by a cannon ball, 
 and expired on the spot, 12th December, 1718. 
 
 Charles in his imitation of Alexandev Converted his firmness 
 into obstinacy, his courage was rashness, and his severity was 
 cruelty. He possessed nothing of the great qualities or the 
 imiable virtues of the hero, though he was bold even to mad- 
 ness, and persevering even to his ruin. 
 
[44 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 The following account of his conduct at Bender will serve 
 to illustrate his character. 
 
 " But neither the proposal of the old Janissaries, nor Ponia- 
 towsky's letters, could convince the king that it was consistent 
 with his honor to yield. He rather chose to perish by the 
 hands of the Turks, than in any respect to be made a prisoner. 
 He dismissed the Janissaries without condescending to see them, 
 and sent them word, that if they did not immediately depart, he 
 would shave their beards for them; an affront, which in the 
 eastern countries is considered as the most intolerable of all 
 others. 
 
 " The old men, filled with the highest indignation, returned 
 home crying out as they went, ' Ah, this head of iron ! Since 
 he will perish, let him perish.' They gave the basha an ac- 
 count of their commission, and informed their comrades at Ben- 
 der of the strange reception they had met with ; upon which 
 they all swore to obey the basha's orders without delay, and 
 were as impatient to go to the assault as they had been averse to 
 it the day before. 
 
 " The word of command was immediately given. The Turks 
 marched up to the fortifications; the Tartars were already wait- 
 ing for them, and the cannon began to play. The Janissaries 
 on the one side, and the Tartars on the other, instantly forced 
 the little camp. Hardly had twenty Swedes time to draw their 
 swords, when the whole three hundred were surrounded and 
 taken prisoners without resistance. The king was then on 
 horseback between his house and his camp, with the Generals 
 Hord, Dardoffand Sparre; and seeing that all his soldiers had 
 suffered themselves to be taken prisoners before his eyes, he said 
 with great composure, to these three officers, ■ Come, let us go 
 and defend the house; we will fight,' adds he, with a smile, 
 1 pro avis et focis.' 
 
 " Accordingly, accompanied by these three generals, he forth- 
 with gallops up to the house, in which he had placed about 
 forty domestics as sentinels, and which he had fortified in the best 
 manner he could. The generals, accustomed as they were to 
 the dauntless intrepidity of their master, could not help being 
 surprised to see him resolve in cold blood, and even with an air 
 of pleasantry, to defend himself against ten pieces of cannon, 
 and a whole army: nevertheless they followed him, with some 
 guards and domestics, making in all about twenty persons. 
 
 " When they came to the door, they found it beset by the Ja- 
 nissaries. Besides, two hundred Turks and Tartars had already 
 entered by a window, and made themselves masters of all the 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 145 
 
 apartments, except a large hall where the king's domestics had 
 retired. Happily this hall was near the door, at which the king 
 designed to enter with his little troop of twenty persons. He 
 threw himself off his horse with pistol and sword in hand, and 
 his followers did the same. The Janissaries fell upon him on 
 all sides. They were animated with the promise which the 
 basha had made, of eight ducats of gold to every man who 
 should only touch his clothes, in case they could take him. He 
 wounded and killed all those who came near him. A Janissary 
 whom he wounded clapped his blunderbuss to his face, and had 
 he not been jostled by the arm of a Turk, owing to the crowd 
 which moved backwards and forwards like waves, the king had 
 certainly been killed. The ball grazed upon his nose, and car- 
 ried off part of his ear, and then broke the arm of General Hord, 
 whose constant fate it was to be wounded by his master's side. 
 
 " The king plunged his sword in the Janissary's breast. At 
 the same time, his domestics, who were shut up in the great 
 hall, opened the door to him. The king with his little troop, 
 springs in like an arrow. They mstantly shut the door, and 
 barricade it with whatever they can find. Thus was Charles 
 the 12th shut up in this hall with all his attendants, consisting 
 of about ^ixty men, officers, guards, secretaries, valets de cham- 
 bre, and domestics of every kind. 
 
 " The Janissaries and Tartars pillaged the rest or* the house 
 and filled the apartments. • Come,' says the king, ' let us go 
 and drive out these barbarians ;' and putting himself at the head 
 of his men, he with his own hands opens the door of the hall 
 that leads to his bed-chamber, rushes into the room, and fires 
 upon the plunderers. 
 
 " The Turks, loaded with spoil, and terrified at the appear- 
 ance of the king, whom they had ever been accustomed to re- 
 spect, throw down their arms, leap out of the -window, or fly 
 to the cellars. The king taking advantage of their confu- 
 sion, and his own men being animated by the success of this 
 attempt, they pursue the Turks from chamber to chamber, kill 
 or wound those who had not made their escape, and in a quarter 
 of an hour clear the house of the enemy. In the heat of the 
 fight the king perceived two Janissaries who lay concealed un- 
 der his bed, one of them he stabbed with his sword, the other 
 asked pardon, by crying 'Amman.' ' I give you your life,' 
 says the king to him, ' on this condition ; that you go and give 
 the basha a faithful account of what you have seen.' The Turk 
 readily promised to do as he was bid, and was allowed to leap 
 out of the window like the rest. 
 11 13 
 
.46 HISTORICAL CABIN LT. 
 
 " The Swedes having at last made themselves masters of the 
 house, again shut and barricadoed the windows. They were in 
 no want of arms. A ground room full of muskets and powder 
 had escaped the tumultuary search of the Janissaries ; these they 
 employed to good purpose. They fired through the windows 
 almost close upon the Turks, of whom, in a short time they 
 killed two hundred. The cannon still played upon the house; 
 but the stones being very soft, they only made some holes in the 
 walls, and nothing was demolished. 
 
 "The cham of Tartary, and the basha, were desirous of 
 taking the king alive ; being ashamed to lose so many men, 
 and to employ a whole army against sixty persons ; they 
 thought it advisable to set fire to the house, in order to oblige 
 the king to surrender. They ordered some arrows, twisted 
 about with lighted matches, to be shot upon the roof, and against 
 the doors and windows. In a moment the house was in flames. 
 The roof, all on fire, was ready to tumble upon the Swedes. The 
 king, with great calmness, gave orders to extinguish the fire. 
 Finding a small barrel full of liquor, he took it up, and being 
 assisted by two Swedes, threw it upon the place where the fire 
 was most violent. At last he recollected that the barrel was full 
 of brandy; but the hurry inseparable from such a scene of con- 
 fusion, hindered him from thinking of it in time. The fire now 
 raged with double fury. The king's apartment was reduced to 
 ashes. The great hall, where the Swedes were, was filled with 
 a terrible smoke, mixed with sheets of flame, that darted in at 
 the doors of the neighboring apartments. One half of the roof 
 sunk within the house, the other fell on the outside, cracking 
 amidst the flames. 
 
 44 In this extremity, a sentinel, called Walberg, ventured to 
 zry, that there was a necessity for surrendering. ' What a 
 strange man is this,' says the king, 4 to imagine, that it is not 
 more glorious to be burnt than taken prisoner V Another sen- 
 tinel, named Rosen, had the presence of mind to observe, that 
 the chancery house, which was not above fifty paces distant, had 
 a stone roof, and was proof against fire ; that they ought to sally 
 forth, take possession of that house, and then defend themselves 
 to the last extremity. 4 There is a true Swede for you,' cries 
 the king; and embracing the sentinel, he made him a colonel 
 upon the spot. l Come on, my friends,' says he, 4 take as much 
 powder and ball with you as you can, and let us take possession 
 of the chancery, sword in hand.' 
 
 " The Turks, who all the while surrounded the house, were 
 struck with fear and admiration, to see the Swedes continue ia 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 147 
 
 it, notwithstanding it was all in flames ; but their astonishment 
 was greatly increased, when they saw the doors opened, and the 
 king and his followers rushing out upon them, like so many 
 madmen. Charles and his principal ,. fleers were armed with 
 sword and pistol. Every man fired two pistols at once, the 
 moment the doors were opened ; and in the twinkling of an eye, 
 throwing away their pistols, and drawing their swords, they 
 made the Turks recoil above fifty paces ; but in a moment after, 
 the little troop was surrounded. The king, who was booted as 
 usual, entangled himself with his spurs and fell. One and 
 twenty Janissaries at once spring upon him. He throws up his 
 sword into the air, to save himself the mortification of surrender- 
 ing it. The Turks bear him to the basha's quarters, some tak- 
 ing hold of his arms, and others of his legs, in the same manner 
 as sick persons are wont to be carried, in order to prevent their 
 being hurt. 
 
 " No sooner did the king see himself in their hands, than the 
 violence of his temper, and the fury which such a long and des- 
 perate fight must have naturally inspired, gave place at once to 
 a mild and gentle behavior : not one word of impatience dropped 
 from his lips ; not one angry look was to be seen in his face. 
 He eyed the Janissaries with a smiling countenance, and they 
 carried him off crying * Alia,' with a mixture of respect and in- 
 dignation." 
 
 BRAVERY OF SERGEANT JASPER. 
 
 Mr. Jasper, a sergeant in the revolutionary army, had a bro- 
 ther who had joined the British, and who likewise, held the 
 rank of sergeant in their garrison at Ebenezer. No man could 
 be truer to the American cause, than Sergeant Jasper ; yet he 
 warmly loved his tory brother, and actually went to the British 
 garrison to see him. His brother was exceedingly alarmed, 
 lest he should be seized, and hung as an American spy ; for 
 his name was well known to many of the British officers. " Do 
 not trouble yourself," said Jasper, " I am no longer an Ameri- 
 can soldier." 
 
 * Thank God for that, William," exclaimed his brother, 
 heartily shaking him by the hand ; " and now, only say the 
 word, my boy, and here is a commission for you, with regimen- 
 tals and gold to boot, to fight for his majesty, king George." 
 
 Jasper shook his head, and observed, that though there was 
 
148 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 but little encouragement to fight for his country, he could iiQt 
 find it in his heart to fight against her. And there the conver- 
 sation ended. After staying two or three days with his.brothei, 
 inspecting and hearing all that he could, he took his leave, re- 
 turned to the American camp, by a circuitous route, and told 
 General Lincoln all that he had seen. 
 
 Soon after, he made another trip to the English garrison, 
 taking with him his particular friend, Sergeant Newton, who 
 was a young man of great strength and courage. His brother 
 received him with his usual cordiality ; and he and his friend, 
 spent several days at the British fort, without giving the least 
 alarm. On the morning of the third day, his brother observed 
 that he had bad news to tell him. 
 
 " Aye ! what is it ?" asked William. 
 
 " Why," replied his brother, " here are ten or a dozen Ame- 
 rican prisoners, brought in this morning, as deserters, from Sa- 
 vannah, whither they are to be sent immediately ; and, from 
 what I can learn, it will be apt to go hard with them, for it 
 seems they have all taken the king's bounty." 
 
 " Let us see them," said Jasper. So his brother took him 
 and his friend Newton to see them. It was indeed a melan- 
 choly sight, to see the poor fellows hand-cuffed upon the ground. 
 But when the eye rested on a young woman, wife of one of the 
 prisoners, with her child, a sweet little boy of five years, all 
 pity for the male prisoners was forgotten. Her humble garb 
 showed that she was poor; but her deep distress, and sympathy 
 with her unfortunate husband, proved that she was rich in con- 
 jugal love, more precious than all gold. She generally sat on 
 the ground, opposite to her husband, with her little boy leaning 
 on her lap, and her coal black hair spreading in long, neglect- 
 ed tresses on her neck and bosom. Sometimes she would sit 
 silent as a statue of grief, her eyes fixed upon the earth: 
 then she would start with a convulsive throb, and gaze on her 
 husband's face with looks as piercing sad, as if she already saw 
 him struggling in the halter, herself a widow, and her son 
 an orphan ; while the child, distressed by his mother's anguish, 
 added to the pathos of the scene, by the artless tears of childish 
 suffering. Though Jasper and Newton were undaunted in the 
 field of battle, their feelings were subdued by such heart-stir- 
 ring misery. As they walked out into the neighboring wood, 
 the tears stood in the eyes of both. Jasper first broke silence 
 44 Newton," said he, " my days have been but few; but I believe 
 their course in nearly finished." 
 
 " Why so, Jasper ?" 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 149 
 
 " Why, 1 feel that I must rescue those poor prisoners, or die 
 with them; otherwise, the remembrance of that poor woman 
 and her child will haunt me to my grave." 
 
 " That is exactly what I feel, too," replied Newton; "and 
 here is my hand and heart to stand by you, my brave friend, 
 to the last drop. Thank God, a man can die but once ; and 
 why should we fear to leave this life in the way of our duty ?" 
 
 The friends embraced each other, and entered into the neces- 
 sary arrangements, for fulfilling their desperate resolution. 
 
 Immediately after breakfast, the prisoners were sent on their 
 way to Savannah, under the guard of a sergeant and corporal, 
 with eight men. 
 
 They had not been gone long, before Jasper, accompanied 
 by his friend Newton, took leave of his brother, and set out on 
 some pretended errand to the upper country. They had scarce- 
 ly, however, got out of sight of Ebenezer, before they struck 
 into the woods, and pushed hard after the prisoners and their 
 guard, whom they closely dogged for several miles, anxiously 
 watching an opportunity to make a blow. The hope, indeed, 
 seemed extravagant; for what could two unarmed men do 
 against ten equipped with loaded muskets and bayonets ? How- 
 ever, unable to give up their countrymen, our heroes still tra- 
 veled on. 
 
 About two miles from Savannah, there is a famous spring, 
 generally called the Spa, well known to travelers, who often 
 stopped there to quench their thirst. " Perhaps," said Jasper, 
 " the guard may stop there." Hastening on through the woods, 
 they gained the Spa, as their last hope, and there concealed 
 themselves among the thick bushes that grew around the spring. 
 Presently, the mournful procession came in sight of the spring, 
 where the sergeant ordered a halt. Hope sprung afresh in the 
 bosoms of our heroes, though no doubt mixed with great alarm; 
 for " it was a fearful odds." The corporal, with his guard of 
 four men, conducted the prisoners to the spring, while the ser- 
 geant, with the other four, having grounded their arms near 
 the road, brought up the rear. The prisoners, wearied with 
 their long walk, were permitted to rest themselves on the earth, 
 Poor Mrs. Jones, as usual, took her seat opposite her husband, 
 and her little boy, overcome with fatigue, fell asleep in her lap. 
 Two of the corporal's men were ordered to keep guard, and 
 the other two to give the prisoners drink out of their canteens. 
 These last approached the spring, where our heroes lay con- 
 cealed, and, resting their muskets against a pine tree, dipped 
 up the water. Having drank themselves, they turned away 
 
 13* 
 
150 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 with replenished canteens, to give to the prisoners also. " Now 
 Newton, is our time," said Jasper. 
 
 Then, bursting like lions from their concealment, they snatch- 
 ed up the two muskets that were resting against the pine, and 
 in an instant, shot down the two soldiers who were upon guard. 
 It was now a contest who should get the two loaded muskets that 
 fell from the hands of the slain ; for by this time, a couple of 
 brave Englishmen, recovering from their momentary panic, had 
 sprung and seized upon the muskets ; but before they could use 
 them, the swift-handed Americans, with clubbed guns, leveled 
 a final blow at the heads of their brave antagonists. The ten- 
 der bones of the skull gave way, and down they sunk, pale and 
 quivering, without a groan. Then hastily seizing the muskets, 
 which had thus a second time fallen from the hands of the slain, 
 they flew between their surviving enemies and their weapons, 
 grounded near the road, and ordered them to surrender ; which 
 they instantly did. They then snapped the hand-cuffs of the 
 prisoners, and armed them with muskets. 
 
 At the commencement of the fight, poor Mrs. Jones had fall- 
 en to the earth in a swoon, and her little son stood screaming 
 piteously over her. But, when she recovered, and saw her 
 husband and his friends freed from their fetters, she behaved 
 like one frantic with joy. She sprung to her husband's bosom, 
 and with her arms round his neck, sobbed out, " My husband 
 is safe — bless God, my husband is safe." Then, snatching up 
 her child, she pressed him to her heart, as she exclaimed, 
 " Thank God ! my son has a father yet." Then kneeling at 
 the feet of Jasper and Newton, she pressed their hands vehe- 
 mently, but in the fullness of her heart she could only say, 
 " God bless you ! God Almighty bless you !" 
 
 For fear of being retaken by the English, our heroes seized 
 the arms and regimentals of the dead, and with their friends 
 and captive foes, re-crossed the Savannah, and safely joined the 
 American army at Purisburgh, to the inexpressible astonish 
 ment and joy of all. 
 
 LYDIA DARRAH. 
 
 When the British army held possession of Philadelphia, Gen. 
 Howe's head quarters were in Second street, the fourth door below 
 Spruce, in a house which was before occupied by Gen. Cadwal- 
 loder. Directly opposite, resided William and Lydia Darrah, 
 
Brayery of Sergeant Jasper.— Page 150. 
 
 Lydia Darrah communicating the intended attack upon General Washington's 
 army.— Page 151. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 151 
 
 members of the society of friends. A superior officer of tho 
 British army, believed to be the adjutant-general, fixed upon one 
 of their chambers, a back room, for private conference; and two 
 of them frequently met there, with fire and candles, in close 
 consultation. About the 2d of December, the adjutant-general 
 told Lydia that he would be in the room at 7 o'clock, and remain 
 late; and they wished the family to retire early to bed; adding, 
 that when they were going away they would call her to let them 
 out and extinguish their fire and candles. She accordingly sent 
 all the family to bed ; but as the officer had been so particular, her 
 curiosity was excited. She took off her shoes and put her ear 
 to the key-hole of the conclave, and overheard an order read for 
 all the British troops to march out late in the evening of the 
 fourth, and attack General Washington's army, then encamped 
 at White Marsh. On hearing this, she returned to her chamber, 
 and lay down. Scon after, the officer knocked at the door, but 
 she rose only at the third summons, having feigned herself 
 asleep. Her mind was so much agitated, that from this moment 
 she could neither eat nor sleep ; supposing it to be in her power to 
 save the lives of thousands of her countrymen : but not knowing 
 how she was to convey the information to Gen. Washington, 
 not daring to confide in her husband. She quickly determined 
 to make her way as soon as possible to the American outposts. 
 She informed her family, that, as she was in want of flour, she 
 would go to Frankford for some ; her husband insisted that she 
 should take the servant maid with her, but, to his surprise, she 
 positively refused. She got across to General Howe, and solicit- 
 ed, what he readily granted, to pass through the British troops 
 on the lines. Leaving her bag at the mill, she hastened toward 
 the American lines, and encountered on her way an American 
 lieutenant-colonel (Craig) of the light-horse, who, with some of 
 his men, was on the lookout for information. He knew her, 
 and inquired where she was going? She answered, in quest of 
 her son, an officer in the American army, and prayed the colo- 
 nel to alight and walk with her. He did so, ordering his troops 
 to keep in sight. To him she disclosed her secret, after having 
 obtained from him a solemn promise never to betray her indi- 
 vidually, as her life might be at stake w r ith the British. 
 
 He conducted her to a house near at hand, directed something 
 for her to eat, and hastened to head- quarters, when he made 
 General Washington acquainted with what he had heard. 
 Washington made, of course, all preparation for baffling the me- 
 ditated surprise. Lydia returned home with her flour : sat up 
 alone to watch the movement of the British troops ; heard their 
 
152 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 footsteps ; but when they returned, in a few days after, did not 
 dare to ask a question, though solicitous to learn the event. The 
 next evening, the adjutant-general came in, and requested her 
 to walk up to his room, as he wished to put some questions. She 
 followed him in terror; and when he locked the door and 
 begged her, with an air of mystery to be seated, she was sure 
 that she was either suspected or had been betrayed. He inquir- 
 ed earnestly whether any of her family were up the last night 
 he and the other officer met : she told him that they all retired 
 at eight o'clock. He observed, " I know you were asleep, for 
 I knocked at your chamber-door three times before you heard 
 me : I am at a loss to imagine who gave General Washington 
 information of our intended attack, unless the walls of the house 
 could speak. When we arrived near White Marsh, we found 
 all their cannon mounted, and the troops prepared to receive us, 
 and we have marched back like a parcel of fools." 
 
 Am. Quarterly Review. 
 
 LAST HOURS OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 [From Custis' Recollections, and Private Memoirs of the Life and Character of Washington.] 
 
 Twenty-eight years have passed, since an interesting group 
 were assembled in the death room, and witnessed the last hours 
 of Washington. So keen and unsparing hath been the sythe 
 of time, that, of all those who watched over the patriarch's couch, 
 on the 13th and 14th of December, 1799, but a single personage 
 survives. 
 
 On the morning of the 13th, the general was engaged in 
 making some improvements in front of Mount Vernon. As was 
 usual with him, he carried his own compass, noted his observa- 
 tions, and marked out the ground. The day became rainy, with 
 sleet, and the improver remained so long exposed to the incle- 
 mency of the weather, as to be considerably wetted before his 
 return to the house. About one o'clock he was seized with chil- 
 liness and nausea ; but having changed his clothes, he sat down 
 to his in-door work — there being no moment of his time for 
 which he had not provided an appropriate employment. 
 
 At night on joining his family circle, the general complained 
 of a slight indisposition, and after a single cup of tea, repaired 
 to his library, where he remained writing until between 1 1 and 
 12 o'clock. Mrs. Washington retired about the usual family hour, 
 but becoming alarmed at not hearing the accustomed sound of 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 153 
 
 the library door as it closed for the night, and gave signal for 
 rest in the well-regulated mansion, she rose again, and continued 
 sitting up, in much anxiety and suspense. At length the well 
 known step was heard on the stair, and upon the general's 
 entering his chamber, the lady chided him for staying up so 
 late, knowing himself to be unwell ; to which Washington made 
 this memorable reply : " I came so soon as my business was 
 accomplished. You well know, that through a long life, it has 
 been my unvaried rule, never to put off till the morrow the duties 
 which should be performed to day." 
 
 Having first covered up the fire with care, the man of mighty 
 labors sought repose ; but it came not as it had long been wont 
 to do, to comfort and restore, after the many occupations of the 
 well-spent day. The night was passed in feverish restlessness 
 and pain. " Tired nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep," was 
 destined no more to visit his couch ; yet the manly sufferer utter- 
 ed no complaint, would permit no one to be disturbed in their 
 rest, on his account, and it was only at day-break he would con- 
 sent that the overseer might be called in, and bleeding resorted 
 to. A vein was opened, but without affording relief. Couriers 
 were dispatched to summon Dr. Craik, the family, and Drs. 
 Dick and Brown, as consulting physicians, all of whom came 
 with speed. The proper remedies were administered, but with- 
 out producing their healing effects, while the patient, yielding 
 to the anxious looks of all around him, waved his usual objec- 
 tion to medicines, and took those which were prescribed, with- 
 out hesitation or remark. The medical gentlemen spared not 
 their skill, and all the resources of their art were exhausted m 
 unwearied endeavors to preserve this noblest work of nature. 
 
 The night approached — the last night of Washington ; the 
 weather became severely cold, while the group gathered nearer 
 to the couch of the sufferer, watching, with intense anxiety, for 
 the slightest dawning of hope. He spoke but little. To the 
 respectful and affectionate inquiries of an old family servant, as 
 she smoothed down his pillow, how he felt himself, he answered, 
 " I am very ill." To Dr. Craik, his earliest companion in arms, 
 longest tried and bosom friend, he observed : " I am dying, sir — 
 but am not afraid to die." To Mrs. Washington, he said : " Go 
 to my escrutoir, and in the private drawer you will find two 
 Dapers — bring them to me." They were brought. He continu- 
 ed : " These are my wills — preserve this one and burn the other/' 
 which was accordingly done. Calling to Col. Lear, he directed . 
 " Let my corpse be kept for the usual period of three days." 
 
 Here we would beg leave to remind our readers, that, in $ 
 
154 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 former part of this work, we have said that Washington was 
 jld fashioned in many of his habits and manners, and m some 
 of his opinions ; nor was he the less to be admired on these ac- 
 counts. The custom of keeping- the dead for the scriptural pe- 
 riod of three days is derived from remote antiquity, and arose, 
 not from fear of premature interment, as in more modern times, 
 but for motives of veneration towards the deceased ; for the bet- 
 ter enabling the relatives and friends to assemble from a distance, 
 to perform the funeral rites ; for the pious watchings of the 
 corpse, and for many sad, yet endearing ceremonials, with which 
 we delight to pay our last duties to the remains of those we 
 loved. 
 
 The patient bore his acute sufferings with manly fortitude, 
 and perfect resignation to the divine will, while, as the night ad- 
 vanced, it became evident that he was sinking, and he seemed 
 fully aware that " his hour was nigh." He inquired the time, 
 and was answered, a few moments to twelve. He spoke no 
 more — the hand of death was upon him, and he was conscious 
 that his " hour was come." With surprising self-possession 
 he prepared to die. Composing his form at length, and folding 
 his arms on his bosom, without a sigh, without a groan, the fa- 
 ther of his country expired, gently as though an infant died. 
 Nor pang nor struggle told, when the noble spirit took its noise- 
 less flight ; while so tranquil appeared the manly features in the 
 repose of death, that some moments had passed ere those around 
 could believe that the patriarch was no more. 
 
 It may be asked, and why was the ministry of religion want- 
 ing to shed its peaceful and benign luster upon the last hours 
 of Washington? Why was he, to whom the observances of 
 sacred things were ever primary duties through life, without 
 their consolations in his last moments ? We answer, circumstan- 
 ces did not permit. It was but for a little while that the disease 
 assumed so threatening a character as to forbid the encourage- 
 ment of hope ; yet, to stay that summons which none may refuse, 
 to give still farther days to him whose "time-honored life" was 
 60 dear to mankind, prayer was not wanting to the throne of 
 grace. Close to the couch of the sufferer, resting her head 
 upon that ancient book, with which she had been wont to hold 
 pious communion, a portion of every day, for more than half a 
 century, was the venerable consort, absorbed in silent prayer, 
 and from which she only arose when the morning group pre- 
 pared to bear her from the chamber of the dead. Such were the 
 last hours of Washington. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 155 
 
 EARTHQUAKE OF CALABRIA IN 1783. 
 [From the Journal of a Traveler.] 
 
 The remarkable earthquakes of 1783 were perceptible in 
 Naples, but their destructive force did not extend farther north 
 than Nicastro, the barrier-town which separates the two Cala- 
 brias. This town, although much injured by former convul- 
 sions, and severely shaken on this occasion, escaped all material 
 injury ; but immediately south of it, I entered a scene of ruin 
 and desolation. In one of the solitary and half-ruined houses 
 on the road to Pizzo, where I paused for some refreshment, the 
 inhabitants related some marvelous stories of the strange atmos- 
 pheric appearances which had preceded the earthquake. These 
 ominous phenomena had either, however, no existence, or were 
 merely the electric flashes so common in this district, and mag- 
 nified into something extraordinary by an imaginative and su- 
 perstitious people. 
 
 All the houses on the plain south of Nicastro consisted of 
 large masses of hewn stone, and yet they were either entirely 
 overthrown, or where still standing, the walls and timbers were 
 so rent and disjointed, that entire re-construction will be neces- 
 sary. The rebuilding, however, was neither commenced nor 
 even contemplated. The earth was still unsettled, and, but the 
 day before my arrival, a violent shock had rocked the whole 
 plain. There is also a prevailing superstition in Calabria, that 
 after a convulsion so tremendous as that of 1783, the earth re- 
 quires a period of four years to regain tranquillity ; and ever 
 since the ruin of their houses, the people have lived in wooden 
 huts or barracks. The evening surprised me, while still eight 
 Italian miles from Pizzo, and I endeavored to negotiate a lodg- 
 ing in one of these solitary dwellings ; but the inhabitants, with 
 a genuine kindness at obvious variance with their own interest, 
 vehemently warned me of the great peril to all strangers, aris- 
 ing from the mal-aria of the stagnant pools and marshes crea- 
 ted by the earthquake. I proceeded therefore by Edelflco, and, 
 leaving the plain, ascended a fertile mountain, on the declivity 
 of which, towards the sea, lies the town of Pizzo. From the 
 lofty summit I beheld the sun sinking like a ball of fire into 
 the sea, and diffusing over the wide waters a golden splendor, 
 which instantaneously banished every thought of the banditti, 
 said to infest this district. With exhilarated feelings I joined a 
 group of singing peasants returning from their labor to the town 
 of Pizzo ; but these joyous emotions were changed to sudden 
 
156 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 sadness when, on arrival in the town, I found it totally de- 
 stroyed. 
 
 The most destructive periods of this formidable earthquake 
 were the 5th of February ; the night between the 6th and 7th ; 
 the 27th and 28th of the same month ; and the 1st, the 27th 
 and 28th of March.' After the last named date the earth be- 
 came comparatively tranquil ; but from time to time, the shocks 
 recurred, and still continue to the present day. The first shock 
 was tremendous, and totally unexpected. All previous indica- 
 tions were either not sufficiently decisive evidence of its ap- 
 proach, or they preceded the convulsion so immediately, that, 
 in most instances, the inhabitants had no time to escape. Be- 
 sides the electric flashes peculiar to this climate, a dense and 
 heavy fog covered the earth, and driving gales from the south- 
 east or south-west, (Sirocco o Libeccio,) swept over all Calabria 
 Ultra with increasing violence. The earth also exhibited one 
 of those singular phenomena, called by the Italians " terre movi- 
 tine" which is thus described by the learned and accurate Nea- 
 politan, Gio. Vivenzio, from whose valuable history of this re- 
 markable earthquake I have borrowed, and interwoven with my 
 personal narrative, many curious facts. " Two miles from 
 Laureana are two ravines divided by a hill, at the extremity of 
 which the two hollows unite and form one valley. The soil 
 in these hollows is swampy, watered by small streams, and par- 
 tially cultivated. A short time before the first shock, water, 
 thickly blended with calcareous matter, was seen to ooze from 
 the ground in the two ravines above-mentioned. Rapidly ac- 
 cumulating, it began ere long to roll onward like a flood of lava 
 into the valley, where the two streams, uniting, moved forward 
 with increased impetus from east to west. It now presented a 
 front of 300 palms in breadth by 20 in depth, and, before it 
 ceased to move, covered a surface equal in length to an Italian 
 mile. In its progress it overwhelmed a flock of thirty goats, 
 and tore up by the roots many olive and mulberry trees, which 
 floated like ships upon its surface. When this calcareous lava 
 had ceased to move, it gradually became dry and hard, during 
 which process the mass was lowered ten palms. It contained 
 fragments of earth of a ferruginous color, and emitting a sul- 
 phurous smell." 
 
 Animals. — The boding terrors exhibited before the earth- 
 quake by the animal world were remarkable. Man alone seem- 
 ed to be exempt from all fore-knowledge of the approaching ca- 
 lamity, and causes which excited evident distress and panic in 
 the whole brute creation produced in him neither physical nor 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 157 
 
 moral change. The effect upon animals was infinitely diver- 
 sified. In some the apprehension was evinced earlier, and with 
 vehement and rapidly succeeding emotions ; while, in others it 
 was later, slower, and less demonstrative. A short time before 
 the first shock, and during the whole period of the great shocks, 
 the fishes along the coast of Calabria Ultra appeared on the 
 surface in a state of stupor, and were caught in unusual quan- 
 tities. Wild birds flew screaming and in obvious alarm through 
 the air, and were caught ir traps and nets with increased faci- 
 lity ; while geese, pigeons, and all other domestic fowls, exhi- 
 bited the same degree of terror. Dogs and asses betrayed an 
 earlier and stronger consciousness than any other quadrupeds. 
 They chased about in wild and staring terror, and the air rang 
 with their horrid howlings and brayings. Horses, oxen, and 
 mules, neighed, roared, and shook in every limb ; pointed their 
 ears forward, and their eyes rolled and glared around with ter- 
 ror and suspicion. When the terrible first shock was felt, they 
 braced every limb, and endeavored to support themselves by 
 spreading their legs widely asunder ; but many were neverthe- 
 less thrown down. Some of them took to flight immedi- 
 ately before the shock, but soon as they felt the earth heaving 
 under them, paused, and stood motionless and bewildered. Pigs 
 appeared less conscious than any other animal of approaching 
 danger. Cats, although not so early sensible of it as dogs and 
 asses, were more demonstrative. Their backs rose, and their 
 fur bristled up in terror. Their eyes become blood-shot and 
 watery, and they set up a horrible and doleful screaming. Thus 
 foretold by the brute creation, the first shock was more imme- 
 diately preceded by a sultry shower ; the wind howled and 
 the sea rolled fearfully ; a subterraneous noise was heard, like 
 the rolling of violent thunder ; and then the earth rocked, and 
 immense districts were convulsed to their foundations; and 
 lakes and rivers suddenly appeared amidst rocks and dry places ; 
 and towns and villages were overthrown, and the falling ruins 
 crushed the unfortunate inhabitants, of whom, throughout Ca- 
 labria, 40,000 were destroyed, and 20,000 more died of the im- 
 mediately ensuing epidemics. 
 
 Of the remarkable escapes, and strong instances of parental 
 affection, which occurred during this long succession of earth- 
 quakes, I shall here record some, which occurred in districts I 
 did not visit ; but they are well attested, and the first is mention- 
 ed by the Neapolitan Vivenzio. The prior of the Carmelites 
 at Jerocarme, near Soriana, was walking- along the high-road, 
 when the ground began to heave and roll beneath him like the 
 
 14 
 
158 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 billows of a rough sea. The earth then opened near him 
 with a tremendous explosion, and immediately closed. Almost 
 senseless with terror, he ran mechanically forward, when again 
 the earth opened immediately under him, and closing as before 
 caught him by the leg. He struggled for some time vainly to 
 release himself, when another shock saved him : the earth was 
 again rent open, and he escaped from this terrible durance. I 
 heard this incident from individuals who knew the prior, and had 
 seen the marks left by the crushing pressure on his foot, but I 
 am inclined to refer much of this marvelous tale to the excite 
 ment and terror of the moment ; and the injury to his foot must 
 have been trifling, as it permitted him proceed homeward. 
 
 Escapes. — An instance of remarkable escape occurred to 
 three paper-makers of Pizzoni di Soriano, named Greco, Roviti 
 and Felia. They were walking near each other on the plain, 
 when suddenly the ground was shaken by a terrible convulsion. 
 Greco and Felia immediately fled, and had the good fortune to 
 tiscape ; but Roviti, encumbered by a gun which he would not 
 relinquish, was exposed to instant and deadly peril. The earth 
 yawned widely beneath him, and he fell into the chasm, but 
 was immediately thrown up again by another shock, and fell 
 into a contiguous swamp. He was a young and powerful man, 
 but the ground still continued to heave like waves, and kept 
 him entangled in the deep swamp, from which he long strug- 
 gled to escape, until at length another mighty shock threw him 
 out, and he fell upon the brink of a newly-opened chasm, where 
 he remained for some time half-dead with terror and exhaustion. 
 A week after his escape he found his gun on the bank of the 
 river Caridi, which had entirely changed its bed. 
 
 An affecting instance of maternal love and self-devotion was 
 discovered in the ruins of Polistena. The mother of two chil- 
 dren — a boy aged three years, and an infant of seven months 
 — was suckling her babe when the house fell and destroyed all 
 three. The position in which the bodies were found afforded 
 the clearest evidence that the mother deliberately exposed her 
 life to save her offspring. She was lying on the ground with 
 her face downward, the infant close to her bosom, while with 
 her body she covered also the older child, thus offering her 
 back to the falling timbers. Her arms were clasped round 
 both, and in this affecting position the half-decayed bodies were 
 discovered when the rubbish was cleared away. 
 
 Another striking instance of parental self-oblivion, which 
 occurred at Scido, is thus recorded by Vivenzio, and was also 
 related to me by four individuals at Pizzo. " Don Antonio 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 159 
 
 RufTo and his wife had only one child, a daughter, of whom 
 they were passionately fond. When the earthquake shook their 
 dwelling- to its foundations, and escape was impracticable, they 
 placed their little girl between them, and embracing each other, 
 awaited the will of Heaven. The house gave way, a heavy 
 beam fell upon the group and destroyed both parents, but did 
 not separate them. After the lapse of several days, the ruins 
 were partially removed, and their bodies were discovered with 
 the child, apparently dead between them. The little girl, how- 
 ever, soon began to moan ; she was taken out of the rubbish, 
 and, although life was nearly gone, she at length recovered, and 
 is now alive and well." 
 
 It was generally remarked that the positions of the men kill- 
 ed by the fallen ruins, indicated that every sinew had been 
 strained in resistance, while the features and attitudes of the 
 females exhibited the extremity of despair ; and in many in- 
 stances the latter were found with their hands clasped above 
 their heads. Whenever children were found near the parents, 
 the attitudes of the mothers indicated entire self-abandonment, 
 while fathers were often discovered folding a child with one 
 arm, and endeavoring with the other to stem the superincum- 
 bent ruins. 
 
 To return, however, to Pizzo. This flourishing town, en- 
 riched by the enterprising industry of the inhabitants, by its 
 coral and tunny fisheries, and by the exhaustless fertility of the 
 contiguous plains and hills, was destroyed by the earthquakes 
 of 1638 and 1659; and in the numerous shocks of the 18th 
 century, no ten years had elapsed without partial injury to 
 Pizzo, when, in 1783, it was again totally destroyed. The 
 concussion of the 5th of February overthrew many buildings, 
 but only nine lives were lost, and the inhabitants thus forewarn- 
 ed, immediately quitted their houses. The earthquake of the 
 28th of March destroyed the whole town, and the people have 
 ever since resided in slight and ill-constructed barracks, in 
 which they pursue their respective occupations. Their hea- 
 viest calamities arose from these small and crowded dwellings,' 
 which were pervious to the damps and to the intense cold which 
 accompanied the earthquakes, and has ever since prevailed 
 during the winter months. Fatal epidemics ensued, which 
 swept away the people in masses, until one-third of their num- 
 ber was destroyed. While walking on the sea-shore, and ob- 
 serving the active industry of the inhabitants, I remarked to 
 some of them who assembled round me, how greatly their in 
 dustrious habits had raised them above their neighbors in Ca 
 12 
 
J60 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 iabria Citra, and at the same time expressed my admiration of 
 the many well -grown, fine young men I had seen at Pizzo. It 
 was melancholy to observe the deep and simultaneous emotion 
 with which most of them replied, " Alas ! we ha.ve lost our 
 finest young men!" One of them, an infirm and aged man, 
 wept anew as he told me that his three sons had died of the 
 fever ; another lamented a beloved brother ; and a third grieved 
 for a valuable friend. More than 1500, out of a population of 
 4200, had fallen victims; and of these 1500, the majority were 
 young men between twenty and thirty. 
 
 Seminar a % October, 1786. 
 
 The farther I advance into Calabria, the more dreadful be- 
 comes the desolation around me. It is truly heart-rending to 
 stand upon the heights, and to behold the beautiful and fertile 
 hills and plains disfigured by scenes of misery and ruin, so 
 horrible as to beggar all description. Calabria has fallen low 
 indeed, and many years must yet elapse before the unfortunate 
 inhabitants recover from the enormous destruction accomplish- 
 ed in a few seconds. I have just returned from the contempla- 
 tion of a dreadful scene of ruin, and have torn myself away 
 from a group of unhappy mourners, whose lamentations affect- 
 ed me to tears. 
 
 After again climbing the mountain above Pizzo, I descended 
 into the rich plain of Monteleone. This beautiful level, of four 
 Italian miles in length, is, in point of fertility, the paradise of this 
 earth. The traveler wanders through numerous groves of 
 olive trees, intermingled with vineyards and plantations of mul- 
 berry, fig, and other fruit trees. The soil is favorable to wheat, 
 and the produce is so abundant, that this limited district, and a 
 still smaller surface round Mileto, supply one-third of Calabria 
 Ultra with grain. The plain of Monteleone is dotted with enor- 
 mous oaks, half as large again as those felled in northern Eu- 
 rope for building purposes ; and, besides fruits and vegetables 
 in endless variety and abundance, I saw plantations of cotton, 
 manna, and liquorice. And yet, notwithstanding this glorious 
 capability, considerable surfaces lie waste and unproductive, 
 which, if cultivated, would double the produce; and which, 
 had the farmers any enduring interest in the soil, would surely 
 not be thus abandoned. Under landlords so oppressive as the 
 nobles of Naples and Sicily, the peasants will only cultivate as 
 much ground as they are compelled to do ; nor indeed are they 
 sufficiently numerous to cultivate, to the extent of its capacity, 
 a soil which would support, as it did of old. a much larger 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 161 
 
 population. There are not even hands enough to gather the 
 enormous crop of olives, of which valuable fruit a large pro- 
 portion annually rots upon the ground. Sugar canes have also 
 been grown upon the sea-coast, but the cultivation has been re- 
 cently abandoned, because the expenses precluded all competi- 
 tion with West Indian sugars. 
 
 I found Monteleone, like every other town in Calabria Ultra, 
 deserted by the inhabitants, who occupied a duplicate town of 
 wooden barracks near the forsaken one. This flourishing com- 
 mercial place, which contained 15,000 inhabitants, was warned, 
 like Pizzo, by the concussion of the 5th of February. The 
 people established themselves in barracks, and only twelve per- 
 sons were killed by the later shocks, which destroyed a great 
 part of the town, but many died of the general sickness which 
 succeeded. The action of the earthquake here made the sur- 
 face heave like the billows of a swelling sea, and produced, in 
 rapid succession, a singular variety of effects. The ground 
 was alternately lifted and rived into fissures and chasms. The 
 buildings shook, and then they swayed like the oscillation of 
 an inverted pendulum, but still they did not fall. The rolling, 
 or pulsatory heaving of the ground now increased, and a large 
 portion of the town was overthrown, leaving here and there a 
 few houses standing, some of which were shaken down a few 
 seconds later. The most solid edifices were all destroyed, while 
 the slightest buildings were but partially injured, and some 
 even escaped entirely. The extensive manufactures of oil and 
 silk, which have made this town and district so flourishing, 
 were fatally injured by this calamity. All the large buildings 
 in the plain, employed for the preservation and culture of the 
 silk- worms, were destroyed by the earthquake, which was even 
 more violent in the vicinity than in the town. The destruction 
 of the large oil-reservoirs, and their contents, and of casks, 
 presses, buildings, and utensils, was so sweeping and compre- 
 hensive, that it was impossible to estimate the amount of dam- 
 age. The loss of the olive-trees will long remain irreparable; 
 and, for some purposes, the fertility of the soil has been mate- 
 rially diminished by the effects of the earthquake. And yet, 
 although their buildings were destroyed, and all their rich 
 stores of oil rolled away in streams, so prodigal is the bounty 
 of nature in this fine district, that the people are already in a 
 state of obvious and growing prosperity. How different would 
 be the situation of northern Europe, if subject to these sudden 
 and widely destructive calamities ! There the cold ungrateful 
 soil yields no return, without constant and skillful culture, while 
 
 14* 
 
162 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 nere the inhabitants may exist almost without labor ; and pn> 
 visions are so abundant, that the scarcity, which in some places 
 followed the earthquake, arose either from neglect of the com- 
 missioners appointed by the king to relieve the general distress, 
 or from the atrocious peculation of subordinate agents. How 
 obvious is the wisdom and goodness of Providence in this fine 
 country ; where an instant remedy is thus provided for the dire 
 effects of these convulsions, which, like discords in music, are 
 integral portions of universal harmony, and are doubtless es- 
 sential to the well-being of our system ! 
 
 Had time, and the plan laid down for my journey permitted, 
 I should gladly have prolonged my stay in Monteleone, which 
 pleased me more than any other town in the Calabrias. Here 
 I found not only many comforts and luxuries of which I had 
 been long deprived, but a warm-hearted and obliging people, 
 whose conversation was replete with intelligence and wit, and 
 who were comparatively free from prejudice and intolerance. 
 They did not, like the Citra-Calabrians, shun me as a heretic, 
 and answer me with a sneer, when I requested animal food on 
 fast-days. They were aware, they said, that the people of 
 northern Europe were exempt from the duties of abstinence, 
 and they frankly acknowledged the necessity of a generous 
 diet to travelers. A people so enlightened in this remote 
 corner of Italy would be a moral phenomenon, were the enigma 
 not readily solved by their active industry and trading inter- 
 course with foreigners. But it is an axiom that the power and 
 influence of monkery cannot long co-exist with the active spirit 
 of commercial enterprise. I left Monteleone for Mileto, and, 
 after climbing over some steep rocks, descended into a fertile 
 plain, the lower levels of which were covered with deep sand. 
 The soil of this district is composed of clay, limestone, sand, 
 and chalk, intermingled with the remains of marine animals. 
 As I was now approaching the mountains which were the 
 central point of the earthquake, I sought for lava with increased 
 vigilance, but could discover none. The trampling of horses, 
 however, emitted so singular a reverberation, that I could en- 
 tertain no doubt of the earth in this district being entirely hollow. 
 The whole of this fine plain was disfigured with scenes of ruin 
 and desolation, and in the numerous villages not a house was 
 standing. The country was strikingly beautiful ; rich in olive 
 groves, and interspersed with masses of ruin so picturesque, 
 that a landscape painter would find here many striking subjects 
 for his pencil. 
 
 The ancient city of Mileto, which is enclosed on the north 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET 163 
 
 and south by the rivers Nisi and Scotopolito, was entirely de- 
 stroyed, along with every house in its environs, and in two 
 contiguous villages. So total, indeed, was the destruction, that, 
 were the loose rubbish cleared away, the site of the town would 
 hardly be distinguishable. The shocks of the 5th February, 
 of the night of the 7th, and of the 28th March, were felt here in 
 all their force, and the desolation was complete. " The most 
 terrible and destructive shock," said one of the survivors to me, 
 " came upon us in a dark night. The subterraneous thunder 
 bellowed, the wind howled fearfully, a sultry rain fell, and the 
 lightnings darted round us. Conceive our utter and helpless 
 despair in this horrible convulsion of all nature, aggravated by 
 the crash of foiling houses, the dismal screams of the wretched 
 inhabitants, and the fires which immediately blazed up amidst 
 the ruins." 
 
 The effects of this terrible panic upon the nerves of many 
 individuals were remarkable. Some remained for a long 
 period in a state of helpless debility, and trembled at every 
 trifling occurrence. Others appeared as if paralyzed for a con- 
 siderable time; while some declined rapidly in health and 
 strength, from inability to digest their food, and others lost all 
 power of recollection for a considerable period. Some remark- 
 able and well-attested instances of the long endurance of brute 
 and human life without sustenance, are deserving of record. 
 Two pigs, which had been buried thirty-tw r o days under the 
 ruins, were heard to grunt by the laborers removing the rub- 
 bish. They were extricated in a feeble and emaciated condition, 
 and for some time refused the food offered to them, but drank 
 water with insatiable eagerness, and rapidly recovered. At 
 Polistena, a cat was buried forty days under the rubbish, and 
 taken out in wretched condition. She exhibited an insatiable 
 thirst, but soon recovered. In the same place, an aged woman 
 was found under the ruins of her dwelling seven days after the 
 earthquake. When discovered, she was insensible and appa- 
 rently dead, but she gradually revived, and complained of no 
 evil but thirst. She continued long in a state of weakness and 
 stupor, and was unable to take more than very small portions 
 ci food, but eventually regained her wonted health and spirits. 
 She stated, that very soon after the house fell, she experienced 
 a torturing thirst, but that she soon lost all consciousness, and 
 remained insensible until her release. In Oppido, a girl ol 
 fifteen, named Aloisa Basili, remained eleven days under the 
 ruins without nourishment, and for the last six days in close 
 contact with a dead body. She had the charge of an infam 
 
164 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 boy, and when the house was falling, she caught the child in 
 her arms. He suffered greatly from incessant thirst, and ex- 
 pired on the fifth day. Until this period, the senses of the 
 poor girl had not failed her, but now she sunk under the com- 
 bined tortures of hunger and thirst. Despair was succeeded 
 by total insensibility ; nor was she conscious, until her release, 
 that the falling fragments had dislocated her hips, and made 
 her lame for life. When restored to animation, she complain- 
 ed of no suffering but thirst ; and in answer to every inquiry 
 concerning her situation under the ruins, she said, " / slept." 
 
 It was generally observed, that the individuals buried alive 
 beneath their houses, fell into a state of drowsy insensibility; 
 some immediately after the catastrophe, and others, of stronger 
 nerves, some days later. Some of those who were thus inter- 
 red felt no terror, but a sense of intoxication, which continued 
 until another shock sobered them, and at the same time, by 
 altering the position of the ruins, enabled them to escape. The 
 most remarkable instance of self-possession and promptitude in 
 sudden peril, occurred in Casoletto, near Oppido, where the 
 prince was seated at table with his family, on the fatal fifth of 
 February. On this day the oscillations of the first shock con- 
 tinued two minutes without interruption, and when the heaving 
 earth began to rock the house, the brother of the princess, a 
 man distinguished on many occasions for his presence of mind, 
 started from his chair, saw a large chasm opening in the wall, 
 sprang instantly through the aperture, and escaped with th~ 
 loss of a shoe. Every other member of the family perished 
 except one son, who was afterwards dug out alive. The en- 
 lire self-mastery displayed by this man under circumstances so 
 appalling, reminds me of a singular instance of self-possession 
 evinced by an Englishman, now resident in Venice. While 
 entertaining a large party at dinner during a thunder storm, 
 the lightning entered and struck a plate out of the hand of a 
 servant standing behind his chair. Turning coolly round, he 
 said to the man, " Remind me to-morrow that I order a light- 
 ning conductor." 
 
 Passing the towns of Rosarno and Palmi, now two heaps of 
 rubbish, under which 1200 people were destroyed, I arrived at 
 Seminara in the evening. No scene of desolation in Calabria 
 effected me so much as the view of this ruined town. Built 
 on the declivity of a mountain, and extending down into the 
 plain, the masses of ruin were so disposed and developed as to 
 impress the beholder with an awful consciousness of the over- 
 whelming power employed in its destruction. The tottering 
 
Earthquake at Calabria. — Page 164. 
 
 Maroon War in Jamaica. — Page 175. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. l65 
 
 ruins of majestic cnurches, of lofty palaces, and other massive 
 structures, exhibited a scene of chaotic desolation, and frag- 
 ments are still daily falling. When I rambled amidst the ruins 
 of Pompeii, I mused with tranquil pity on the sad fate of the 
 inhabitants ; but when surrounded with these awful tokens of 
 recent destruction, when I recollected that the hapless victims 
 had been my contemporaries, and that 1 was each passing mo- 
 ment exposed to the same fate in this still heaving district, my 
 sympathies were excited even to tears. I saw people, once r e- 
 sident in these houses, still digging the bones of relatives, and 
 other property, out of the ruins, and as I passed a girl thus oc- 
 cupied, I saw her take a skull out of the rubbish. This brief 
 incident shocked me more deeply than any thing I had yet be- 
 held in this region of calamity, and I could not for some time 
 subdue the strong emotion it excited. 
 
 While looking vainly around me for a hotel, and listening 
 to a joiner's offer to lodge me in his workshop, two of the prin- 
 cipal inhabitants, observing that I was a foreigner, kindly of- 
 fered me accommodation for the night. I accompanied one of 
 them to his barrack, where he treated me with genuine hospi- 
 tality, and proposed to show me the effects of the earthquake 
 on the following morning. Meanwhile he and his friend 
 prepared me for the sad spectacle by the following brief narra- 
 tive : " It was the convulsion of the 5th of February," began 
 one of them, "which buried 1400 of our people under the ruins 
 of their dwellings, and 1200 more were soon after swept away 
 by epidemic diseases. The morning of the 5th was sultry, with 
 a dark and lowering atmosphere, and gentle rain. At eleven 
 o'clock, an hour before the earthquake, I left the town with my 
 friend, in quest of game ; we were pursuing our sport upon 
 the mountain above the city, and had just reached the summit, 
 when suddenly we heard a noise like thunder rolling beneath 
 us, which was immediately followed by such violent heavings 
 of the ground that we were tossed about in every direction ; 
 and being unable to maintain a safe footing on the mountain- 
 top, we fell down, clinging to the stems of trees, crying out, 
 and praying in wild agony and fear. Looking down towards 
 the town, we saw a dense cloud of dust eddying over it, but 
 could distinguish no buildings. We remained for some time 
 prostrate and helpless, doubting whether we were alive or dead ; 
 the thunder still bellowed beneath us ; we thought the last, day 
 had arrived, and hearkened even for the voice of Him who is 
 to judge mankind. At length the earth became more tranquil. 
 I was still lying on the ground, stupified, and almost insensible, 
 
166 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 T/hen my friend roused me, and we ventured down the declivi- 
 ty towards the town. But we found the road broken up and 
 destroyed ; we saw the fields on each side riven into ridges and 
 chasms ; we passed by waters we knew not ; we discovered 
 hills where none had existed, and vainly endeavored to find the 
 town. Still stupified and quite unconscious of the nature of 
 the calamity, we suddenly saw flames rising from the town, and 
 heard loud cries and lamentations. We now beheld people ly- 
 ing around our path, as if dead ; and were actually climbing 
 over ruins, without knowing that we had reached the town. So 
 utterly shaken indeed were our faculties by this awful and sud- 
 den catastrophe, that we wandered for some hours around the 
 town ; saw nouses falling near us, and listened to the dreadful 
 cries of the wretched sufferers, before we could obtain a full 
 conviction that the city had been destroyed by an earthquake. 
 Then, however, in a state of indescribable and rising agony, 
 we sought long and vainly for our dwellings. At length I 
 found my house nearly consumed by the flames. I rushed into 
 the ruins, hoping to save some one dear to me, and saw the 
 legs of my crushed child projecting from beneath heavy mas- 
 ses of stone. I endeavored to roll away the stones, but my 
 strength was inadequate, and there was no one to help me. 
 Soon after, I discovered my wife, dead, and clasping her infant 
 to her bosom. The child too was dead ; and I was thus left 
 wifeless, childless, houseless, bereft of all I loved, and of all 
 property, save the clothes on my back. This sudden and total 
 destitution plunged me into utter despair ; but many weeks 
 elapsed before I could comprehend the full extent of my misery. 
 Such was my fate, and the fate of all who escaped. Five days 
 later, my friend discovered the dead body of his wife, and with 
 her his child, happily still alive. The ground thunder," he 
 concluded, " roared incessantly during that day, and the trem- 
 bling motion of the earth was uninterrupted ; but the first con- 
 cussion was fatal to all the strongest buildings in the town." 
 
 Thus prepared, I accompanied the narrator on the follow- 
 ing day amidst the ruins. When the town was last rebuilt, the 
 inhabitants, warned by sad experience, endeavored to secure 
 their stone houses by strong wooden frame work, and this ex- 
 pedient would have probably answered the desired end, had 
 not the concussions been so various and so opposite. This in- 
 cessant change of motion disjointed the heavy timbers ; their 
 faL accelerated the destruction of the houses ; and the fuel they 
 afforded to the numerous fires, made the desolation so horrible 
 and complete, that only three houses remained entire. One of 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 167 
 
 the most singular phenomena I saw here, was the position of 
 an obelisk, which had been partially turned round, and removed 
 about nine inches from its original place on the pedestal, while 
 the latter had not swerved from its position ; thus proving the 
 violent and various atmospheric movements which accompa- 
 nied the earthquake. Two obelisks in a small town called Ste- 
 fano del Bosco, exhibited similar appearances. Close to the 
 lower part of Seminara was an extensive level, partly planted 
 with olive-trees, and partly covered by a beautiful orchard, be- 
 yond which flowed a river. This level was rent asunder by 
 the earthquake, which hurled one half of its surface a distance 
 of 200 feet, into a valley 60 feet in depth, and, after riving 
 another portion of the level into a deep chasm, forced into it 
 the river before mentioned, the former bed of which became 
 entirely dry. Exactly on the line where the level was rent in 
 twain, stood a row of olive-trees. The hollows, from whence 
 the roots had been torn out, were still visible, and on the oppo- 
 site side of the chasm stood the trees, bending over the new bed 
 of the river, and bearing an abundant crop of fruit. A small 
 inhabited house, standing on the mass of earth carried down 
 into the valley, went along with it entire, and without injury 
 to the inhabitants. Many similar phenomena are recorded in 
 the Academy Memoirs of the earthquake, and one of them is es- 
 pecially remarkable. In a tavern at Terranova, a few miles from 
 Seminara, the landlord was lying on a bed, his wife and child 
 sitting near him, and four guests were playing at cards at the 
 other end of the room, when, suddenly the earth was convulsed, 
 and the house was carried onward a distance of 300 paces. The 
 walls were rent asunder, and the falling fragments crushed the 
 four guests and the child, but the landlord and his wife escaped 
 all injury. A peasant, near Seminara, was sitting in a tree 
 when the ground beneath was rent open by a shock, which 
 carried earth and tree to some distance, but the peasant clung 
 to the branches and escaped. 
 
 This revolution of the earth not only created valleys where 
 none had existed, but in many instances, converted plains into 
 mountains. I saw several of these newly created hills ; and 
 especially observed one at Seminara. I was standing with my 
 friendly guide upon a lofty eminence above the new channel 
 of the river, when he said, " Where we now stand, my sistei 
 possessed, before the earthquake, an olive-grove, down in the 
 plain." It was now a mountain, from six to seven hundred feet 
 high, and the slope was a succession of platforms, resembling 
 a staircase. The still remaining olive-trees, instead of produ- 
 
168 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 cing fruit in the valley, now yielded it on the summit 01 the 
 mountain ; and, what is worthy of remark, the increased ele- 
 vation had not diminished their fertility. 
 
 From this imperfect detail of the extraordinary revolutions in 
 the vicinity of Seminara, the long-enduring stupefaction of my 
 unfortunate conductors, when returning from the chase, will 
 he readily understood. They farther told me, that, amongst 
 other strange and novel appearances on their return to the town, 
 they observed a lake which had been suddenly formed in the 
 low grounds near the town. The water had rushed out of a 
 chasm created by the earthquake ; and this lake, now called 
 Lago del Tolfilo, extends 2380 palms* in length, by 1250 in 
 breadth, and 70 in depth. The inhabitants, dreading the mias- 
 ma of this stagnant pool, have since, unceasingly and at great 
 cost, endeavored to drain it by the formation of canals, but 
 hitherto without success. The water still wells out from the 
 chasms below ; and on the surface floats a greasy slime, appa- 
 rently consisting of calcareous matter. 
 
 Before the earthquake the population of Seminara comprised 
 5000 souls, but was reduced more than half by this calamity 
 and its consequences. The suddenness of the first shock pre- 
 cluded all precaution, and the destruction fell alike upon rich 
 and poor. The fate of one of the principal inhabitants was sin- 
 gularly dreadful. When the conflagration was rapidly spread- 
 ing, he was seen amidst the ruins of his house, unable to ex- 
 tricate himself, and beyond the reach of human aid. He was 
 thus observed for several hours, while the flames gradually 
 closed in upon his dwelling, and the massive stones reddened 
 in the intense heat. The cries of the miserable man were 
 heard from out this fiery furnace by the spectators, who saw 
 him literally roasted alive, and could do nothing to alleviate his 
 torments but procure a priest to give him absolution, soon after 
 which he died this most dreadful of deaths. The convents 
 and their inmates shared the common fate in this sweeping con- 
 vulsion. Fifty nuns perished in one convent only ; and of the 
 numerous fraternity in the Franciscan monastery, one monk 
 only was saved. He was out in the court, and fled when he 
 saw the walls begin to move. 
 
 The saddening impressions produced by this scene of ruin 
 were soon relieved when I observed the stirring and noble ener- 
 gy which the people of Seminara, beyond any other Calabri- 
 ans, displayed under calamities so disheartening. Determined to 
 
 * 1440 palms are equal to 1169 feet, Paris measure. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 169 
 
 *rait no longer for the assistance long promised by a grasping 
 and heartless government, they had planned and made prepara- 
 tions to rebuild their city in houses of only one floor, and upon 
 the summit of the mountain, where they would be less exposed 
 than on the slope to the effects of future earthquakes, and to 
 the malaria from the stagnant lake in the plain. 
 
 THE MAROON WAR IN JAMAICA. 
 
 [From the United Service Journal.] 
 
 The histories of detached corps and isolated vessels, and the 
 personal narratives of individual officers and men, of which we 
 are enabled to give so many interesting specimens in the United 
 Service Journal, have all the elements of the old heroic tales, 
 with the addition of the humanity and regulated feelings of 
 civilized life, and with that high spirit of military gallantry and 
 pride, which is justly the glory of the present age. The par- 
 tisan warfare in the revolutionary contest of America is replete 
 with interest, but the attention of Europe has been more re- 
 cently absorbed by the Guerilla exploits of the Tyrol, and the 
 Peninsula. There is, however, upon record, a war sustained 
 by savages against disciplined troops, in a manner more extra- 
 ordinary than any with which we are acquainted. We allude 
 to the Maroon war of Jamaica. The Maroons were totally 
 ignorant of combined movements and discipline : they were 
 not commanded by men of education, capable of imparting the 
 latter and comprehending the former ; nor were they stimulated 
 by patriotism, or made enthusiasts by religion. In all these 
 respects they were totally different from the Guerillas. Their 
 war was produced solely by a love of plunder, and of a life 
 alternating between the most torpid indolence and the most 
 daring enterprise, to obtain the necessaries of existence. They 
 had no cannon, nor cavalry ; their arms consisted of swords and 
 muskets without bayonets, but with these they effected what is 
 almost incredible. 
 
 The white and the slave population of Jamaica formed a 
 mere belt, extending round the coasts. The interior of the 
 island is a mountainous scene of wild and savage nature. It 
 abounds with immense rocks, with rugged acclivities, and often 
 with s ; des absolutely perpendicular. In these rocks there are 
 numerous fissures, and small glens of luxuriant herbage, pre- 
 senting perhaps, the most romantic and sublime scenery in the 
 
 15 
 
170 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 •vorld. The whole interior of the island abounded in immense 
 forest trees, or was covered with brushwood, and with a gi- 
 gantic herbage, capable of concealing any number of men. 
 The thorny brambles often rendered whole tracts of country 
 impassable, except to the Maroons, who cut narrow passages 
 through them, or who, upon their hands and knees, could travel 
 underneath them for miles. These sub-labyrinths, intricate, 
 tortuous, and dangerous in the extreme, had been made by the 
 wild hogs, and through them the Maroons traveled upon all- 
 fours, until coming to an opening, their unerring muskets 
 picked off our videttes and sentries, and totally destroyed our 
 outposts, without our men seeing the enemy by whom they 
 were sacrificed. 
 
 It is obvious that no country could be more favorable to 
 savage warfare. In the center of the island, from east to west, 
 ran three parallel lines of glens, called cockpits. In each pa- 
 rallel, these natural basins were bounded by stupendous rocks, 
 and communicated with each other by fissures, irregular, nar- 
 row, steep, and rugged. The rocks fencing the cockpits to the 
 south were almost inaccessible in every place, whilst those to 
 the north were absolutely perpendicular. Most of these cock- 
 pits abounded with majestic trees, and the soil, watered by in- 
 numerable rills, was luxuriant in the extreme. 
 
 The Maroons were the descendants of the aboriginal inha- 
 bitants, and of negroes who had fled from their Spanish masters 
 into the interior, when we captured the island in 1655. Their 
 numbers had been increased by runaway slaves of every de- 
 scription, but particularly by the restless, brave, and ferocious 
 African tribe of the Coromantees. Among the Maroons was a 
 class with jet black complexions and regular, handsome features. 
 The whole tribe of Maroons, however, were tall, well made, 
 and athletic ; and when the Duke of Kent, after their surrender 
 and shipment to Halifax, inspected them, he pronounced them 
 the most extraordinarily fine body of men he had ever seen. 
 Their feats of strength and agility surprised our officers. They 
 could climb trees like monkeys, and could ascend rocks, and 
 bound from crag to crag, where our most active soldiers could 
 not approach. Their keenness of eye was most extraordinary ; 
 and so acute was their sense of hearing, that with their ears to 
 the ground, they would detect our movements at a distance, at 
 which theirs to us were totally inaudible. Patient of hunger 
 and fatigue, they could select nutritious roots and herbs from 
 the many which in that climate were deemed poisonous ; whilst 
 our lpnorarce prevented our discriminating the one from the 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 17* 
 
 other, and consequently deprived us of the use of all. Almost 
 every man possessed a rifle, fowling-piece, or musket, and their 
 accuracy at fire was proved by the sequel to be superior to any 
 thing on record. 
 
 Their first chief, Cudjoe, had carried on a regular war 
 against us, until his name became the vexation of our officers 
 and the terror of every white inhabitant. At length we ob- 
 tained from the Mosquitoe shore, a body of semi-savages, Mu- 
 lattoes, Indians, and Africans, called Black Shots. These men, 
 under an English adventurer, named James, fought the Ma- 
 roons in their own style, but with very inferior success. The 
 ferocity of the war, and the cruelties practiced upon the white 
 inhabitants, are incredible. At length, by the aid of these 
 Black Shots, and at an enormous expense of lives, we pene- 
 trated to the vicinity of Cudjoe's fastnesses. Upon a high 
 table land of several acres, called Flat Cave River, we built a 
 set of barracks, with four bastions and high walls. In these 
 we kept our stores of provisions and ammunition, with a con- 
 siderable body of militia and regulars. The fatigue of bring- 
 ing up supplies from the coast, by which, in that climate, our 
 troops had suffered great mortality, was now spared, and the 
 predatory excursions of Cudjoe were considerably checked. 
 
 The government now thought the Maroons were in their 
 power, especially as they had been quiescent for several weeks, 
 when they suddenly learned that Cudjoe and his whole tribe 
 had decamped from their scene of operations in the south-east 
 of the island, and had moved to Trelawney, near the entrance 
 of the great line of cockpits to the extreme north-west of the 
 island. The first and largest of these cockpits was called Pet- 
 ty River Bottom. It contained about seven acres of verdant 
 soil, and the inaccessible sides were covered with the largest 
 forest-trees. The entrance was a mere fissure, passable only 
 by the most vigorous and agile of mountaineers, and from the 
 sides of which a few riflemen might have defended the defile 
 against any numbers or any species of attack. 
 
 Under these circumstances did a few hundred savages keep 
 the whole island of Jamaica in terror, baffle our military force, 
 and oblige us at last to offer terms of peace. Col. Guthrie was 
 sent to make the overtures, and the scene between him and Cud- 
 joe was characteristic in the extreme. The daring savage sud- 
 denly became a timid slave. The negotiation took place in one 
 of the wild fastnesses of the mountains, to which Col. Guthrie 
 had advanced to offer terms. Cudjoe was rather a short man, 
 uncommonly stout, with very strong African features, and a 
 
72 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 peculiar wildness in his manners. He had a very large lump 
 of flesh upon his back, which was partly covered by the tat- 
 tered remains of an old blue coat, of which the skirt and the 
 sleeves below the elbows were wanting. Round his head was 
 a scanty piece of dirty white cloth ; he had a pair of loose 
 drawers that did not reach his knees, and a small round hat 
 without any rim. On his right side hung a cow's horn, with 
 some powder, and a bag of large cut slugs. On his left was a 
 knife, three inches broad, in a leathern sheath, suspended undei 
 the arm by a narrow strap that went round his shoulder. He 
 had no shirt, and his clothes and skin were covered with the 
 red dirt of the cockpits. Such was the chief; and his men 
 were as ragged and dirty as himself: all had guns and cut- 
 lasses. This treaty, signed in 1738, was, as if between regu 
 lar belligerants, but it stipulated that in future the Maroons 
 should be registered, and have two white agents residing 
 amongst them. From this period to the last and most serious 
 war of 1795, the relation of the Maroons to the whites became 
 totally different. Their connection was friendly, and the plant 
 ers had created in them both a contempt and a hatred of the 
 negroes, whom, when fugitives, they always caught and restor- 
 ed to their masters. In this war it was proved that all the 
 movements of the different chiefs or leaders of gangs had been 
 isolated and independent; there had been no communication 
 oetween them, and the effect is therefore the more astonishing. 
 By this treaty the Maroons at Trelawney Town, their prin- 
 cipal seat, had 1500 acres of land allotted to them. A white 
 superintendent, with four assistants, resided there. They be- 
 came attached to the planters, and rendered them all homage 
 and very essential services. On one occasion, when a large 
 body of Coromantee negroes had risen upon their masters, and 
 were successfully contending with our troops, murdering all 
 that fell into their hands, the Maroons attacked them in the 
 woods, killed two-thirds of their number, and brought the rest 
 back to subjection. A Major James was the principal super- 
 intendent of the Maroons. He was the son of the celebrated 
 leader of the Black Shot men ; and the superstitious terror which 
 the Maroons had entertained towards the father, they transfer 
 red to the son, accompanied, however, with veneration and af- 
 fection. Major James was certainly an extraordinary person. 
 With the education of a gentleman, and the science of a sol- 
 dier, he possessed all the instincts and every corporeal quality 
 in equal perfection with the Maroons. He could beat the fleet- 
 sst of them in their foot-races, and could foil them in then 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 173 
 
 wrestling-matches and sword-fights, and could wear them out 
 with fatigue in the dangerous chase of the wild hogs in the 
 mountains. He was unerring with the rifle ; and such was his 
 influence among the tribes, that he could stop their ferocious 
 conflicts, subdue their feuds, and punish the turbulent in the most 
 summary manner. Upon this man the government depended. 
 Majrr James was possessed of a private fortune, and would oc- 
 casionally absent himself from his duty to attend to his estates. 
 A law of compulsory residence was passed, which he refused 
 to obey, except upon an increase of salary, and he was dismiss- 
 ed from his employment. The Maroons were chagrined in the 
 extreme at this circumstance, and did all they could to get Major 
 James again amongst them. The authorities were inexorable. 
 Other circumstances occurred to irritate the Maroons; the 
 negro insurrection in St. Domingo unsettled their minds, and 
 finally a very questionable act of severity, not to say of cruelty, 
 was practiced upon them at this unfortunate juncture. Two 
 Maroons had been taken up for some offense in the town of 
 Montego Bay, and the magistrate had them flogged by a run- 
 away negro, before the slaves of the town. The antipathy 
 and contempt of the Maroons for the negroes, we have already 
 noticed. This indignity was not to be borne, and it led to a 
 most fatal war. Gen. Palmer and the local authorities, with 
 some of the principal proprietors of the north side, wrote to the 
 capital, advising that Major James might be restored to his of- 
 fice, and that concessions might be made to these people. These 
 requests were unattended to, and immediately after the war 
 broke out. Lord Balcarras, the governor, deemed these men 
 so formidable, that he directly proclaimed martial law through- 
 out the island, and detained the expedition about to sail for St. 
 Domingo. The Success frigate was in the offing, having on 
 board the 83d Foot, Col. Fitch ; a regiment in the finest order, 
 and, what is extraordinary for the West Indies, mustering a 
 thousand rank and file on the parade. The Success was re- 
 called by signal, and made to disembark the troops. 
 
 Lord Balcarras proceeded immediately to Montego Bay, 
 where he published a violent philippic against the Maroons, 
 telling them that their town was surrounded by troops, resist- 
 ance was in vain, and that he had set a price upon the heads 
 of all who did not surrender in four days. 
 
 This impolitic proclamation struck terror into the hearts of 
 all the inhabitants, and roused the Maroons from equivocal sub- 
 mission to the most determined resistance. A similar ciicu in- 
 stance of an unfortunate nature had just occurred. Col Gal- 
 13 15* 
 
174 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 limore, who had heen sent to negotiate with the Maroons, had, 
 during a conference, contemptuously taken from his waistcoat 
 pocket a handful of musket-balls, and shaking them in the faces 
 of the chiefs, declared that those were the only arguments they 
 should have from him. The Maroons shortly after attacked 
 his house, and wreaked a signal vengeance upon his family. 
 General Palmer had given passports to six Maroon captains to 
 proceed to the governor in the capital. Midway, these men 
 were seized by the commanding officer of the militia, and, not- 
 withstanding their passports, were ordered into irons by Lord 
 Balcarras. The general expressed himself highly incensed 
 at this breach of faith. 
 
 On the 8th of August, Lord Balcarras sent his dispatch, 
 commanding the surrender of the Maroons, on pain of setting 
 a price upon their heads. On that day Col. Sanford, with one 
 hundred and thirty of the 18th and 20th Light Dragoons, took 
 post about four miles north of the Maroon town. Lord Bal- 
 carras, at the head of the 83d regiment, established himself at 
 Vaughan's Field, a mile and a half from the Maroon town, 
 whilst several thousand militia were at Kensington estate, in 
 his rear, to protect the convoys of provisions. The regular 
 troops amounted to about 1500. The Maroon town lies twenty 
 miles south-east of Montego Bay, and eighteen miles from Fal- 
 mouth. The road from Montego Bay for the first nine miles 
 is good, after which it is steep, rugged, and affording facilities 
 of defense against any hostile advance. The same may be said 
 of the last four or five miles of the road from Falmouth. The 
 Maroons, terrified by this military array, on the 1 1th of August 
 sent their chief and seventeen leading men to offer submission 
 and fealty to Lord Balcarras, who, however, put these men in 
 irons, and sent them on ship-board. Of all things, the Maroons 
 had a horror of being shipped from the island. One of the 
 chiefs committed suicide by ripping open his bowels, and this 
 experiment of surrendering taught the Maroons what little cle- 
 mency they had to expect from government. Two of the chiefs 
 who had come to the outposts to parley about pacification, on 
 their return found that the Westmoreland militia had destroyed 
 their town, burnt their provision grounds, and ill-used their 
 families. The sword was now drawn, and the scabbard was 
 thrown away. Lord Balcarras had with him one hundred and 
 fifty of the 13th Light Dragoons, dismounted; detachments of 
 the 17th Light Dragoons, under Capt, Bacon; and one hun- 
 dred of the 62d Foot. 
 
 So far from surrendering on the 12th, the Maroons were so 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 175 
 
 incensed, that they attacked two of our detachments on that 
 day, and severely handled them. Lord Balcarras ordered Col. 
 Sanford to make a forward movement, which, in conjunction 
 with the movements of the 83d and of the militia, was intend- 
 ed to surround the Maroon town. The Maroons allowed Col. 
 Sanford to advance into a defile, when they opened a tremen- 
 dous fire upon him from ambushes on his right and left, and 
 killed him and almost all his men. Not a single Maroon was 
 hurt. The whole plan had been badly contrived. 
 
 It was now resolved to surround both towns, and to destroy 
 all the provision grounds. A track was cut through the thick 
 brambles and brushwood, the line being guided by the bugles 
 of the 17th Dragoons. After infinite toil in the rainy season, 
 a light field-piece was brought up through this track, and both 
 towns were taken possession of. But, to the astonishment of 
 Lord Balcarras, they were found abandoned ; the Maroons, aa 
 might have been expected, had retreated to the cockpit with all 
 their valuables. Into this cockpit our troops were made to fire 
 repeated volleys, the echoes of which were succeeded by loud 
 bursts of laughter from the Maroons, who rejoiced at our waste 
 of ammunition. Lord Balcarras now retired to Montego Bay, 
 and left the command of the troops to Col. Fitch, of the 83d. 
 
 More wisdom now guided our measures, but, from unavoid- 
 able circumstances, almost all our outposts were surprised, our 
 working-parties were destroyed by ambuscades, and our con- 
 voys and detachments generally cut to pieces. In but one in- 
 stance could we ascertain that a single man of the enemy had 
 been killed. Many parleys took place, but the horror of the 
 Maroons at being sent on ship-board, prevented any favorable 
 conclusion. 
 
 Colonel Fitch employed a strong working-party of slaves, 
 supported by several flanking companies of regulars and mili- 
 tia, to cut a line through the brushwood and thorny brambles, 
 that he might communicate with some Corps on his right. They 
 had scarcely worked half a mile from head-quarters, when the 
 party fell into an ambush, the troops suffered severely, and the 
 Maroons massacred a great number of the negroes. About a 
 mile and a quarter from head-quarters, in another direction, there 
 was an outpost of between thirty and forty men, commanded by 
 Captain Lee, of the 83d, who bad secured himself with palisa- 
 does and a breast-work, but had reported that his post might be 
 commanded by the Maroons from the heights. On the 12th of 
 September, Colonel Fitch, at nine in the morning, went to visit 
 the post, in company with the adjutant of the 83d and many other 
 
176 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 officers. We may judge of the nature of the country from tlwj 
 fact, that Col. Fitch was obliged to make use of a compass, and 
 to set his watch by that of Lieutenant Dixon, of the Artillery, 
 at head-quarters, who was desired to fire a field-piece precisely 
 at twelve o'clock. Three hours were thus occupied in travers- 
 ing one mile and a half. Col. Fitch found the post untenable, 
 and he proceeded with a small party a few hundred yards in ad- 
 vance, to determine upon a better position. Coming to two di- 
 verging paths, he hesitated a minute which to take, when a sud- 
 den volley from the Maroons in the brushwood killed or wound- 
 ed almost every man of the party. Colonel Jackson was unhurt, 
 but seeing Colonel Fitch sitting desperately wounded on the 
 stump of a tree, and hearing some Maroons cock their muskets, 
 he endeavored to make him lie down, but even in this hurrie*d 
 effort another ball killed him on the spot. Of a return before us 
 of ninety-three killed and wounded, we find seventy killed and 
 only twenty-three wounded, so accurate was their fire. 
 
 Colonel Walpole, of the 13th Dragoons, was now appointed 
 commander-in-chief, with the rank of major general. He de- 
 'clared that the Island would be lost, if the troops suffered ano- 
 ther defeat. While maturing his plans, an attack was made 
 upon a strong outpost, commanded by Major Godley and Cap- 
 tain White of the 83d. One of the sentries had declared that he 
 saw a Maroon passing in the dark. The men w T ere turned out, 
 and formed into two parties, and advanced at daybreak. No 
 vestige of an enemy appearing, they returned, and Major God- 
 ley entering his hut, ordered his negro boy to bring him his cof 
 fee. At the instant, the boy was shot through the head, and a 
 volley from the Maroons did great execution amongst our men. 
 The post was bravely defended, but at last abandoned with con- 
 siderable loss. 
 
 General Walpole resolved to act on the defensive during the 
 rainy season. He trained his men to light infantry manceuvers 
 and bush-fighting; he selected the best rifle shots, harassed the 
 enemy by false alarms, and made feint attacks to draw off their 
 attention, whilst he cleared the country around him of the brush- 
 wood and high grass. At length, making a feint attack at a dis- 
 tance, he pushed a strong body of troops, with a howitzer and 
 field-piece, up a hill, and at daybreak began to pour shells and 
 grape-shot into the cockpit. The Maroons, terrified at this novel 
 mode of attack, precipitately fled to the next cockpit, from which 
 they were driven by similar means. They were thus driven 
 from post to post, and cut off from their supplies of water. The 
 measles broke out amongst them, and they became greatly dis- 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 177 
 
 tressed. Still, however, they were able to send out numerous 
 skirmishing parties ; and notwithstanding we were often able 
 to attack them with greatly superior numbers, in no one instance 
 could we obtain complete success. 
 
 Thus were parties situated, when Lord Balcarras, contrary 
 to the advice of the gallant Walpole, resolved to send to Cuba 
 for a pack of the hounds used in that island to chase outlaws 
 and runaway negroes. These dogs, on coming up with a fugi- 
 tive, merely growl at him till he stops, when they continue bark- 
 ing till the chasseurs advance and secure their prize. Each 
 chasseur can only hunt with two dogs : they are never unmuz- 
 zled but for attack, and are always accompanied by one or two 
 small dogs of excellent scent, called finders. The larger ani- 
 mal is the size of a very large hound, but with the nose more 
 pointed. His skin is much harder than that of most dogs, and 
 so must be the whole structure, as the severe beatings they un- 
 dergo in training would kill any other dog. 
 
 The chasseurs' only weapon is longer than a dragoon's sword, 
 and twice as thick, something like a flat iron bar, of which about 
 eighteen inches at the lower end are as sharp as a razor. The 
 activity of these chasseurs no negro can elude; and such is 
 their temperance, that with a few ounces of salt, they can sup- 
 port themselves for months on the vegetable and farinaceous food 
 of the woods. They drink nothing but the water supplied by 
 the wild pine, by the black and grape withes, and the roots of 
 the cotton-tree. Their greatest privation is that of the cigar, which 
 they must not use in the woods, where the scent would betray 
 them. The dress of a chasseur is a check shirt, open at the 
 neck, and displaying a crucifix ; a wide pair of check trowsers ; 
 a straw hat, eight inches in the rim ; his sword belt and his cot- 
 ton ropes for his dogs. In the woods, he kills the wild hogs, 
 and having skinned the thighs and hocks, he thrusts his foot 
 into the raw hide, and with his knife trims it and makes it a 
 tight boot, to protect his legs from the intricacies of thorns and 
 brushwood which he has to penetrate. 
 
 Forty of these chasseurs were reviewed by General Walpole 
 at Seven Rivers, and each of them had two hounds besides the 
 finder. The general imposed upon them the necessity cf car- 
 rying muskets, which, however, they resolved to throw away as 
 soon as a fight commenced; and, secondly, he would not allow 
 them to go out in chase, but obliged them to keep in the rear, till 
 occasion might require their aid. How far these restraints and 
 alterations of their accustomed mode of fighting might have de- 
 stroyed their inefficiency, was never proved. To us it appears 
 
178 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 that nothing- could be more contemptible than such an ally, and 
 that in the very first rencounter every chasseur and hound would 
 have been shot. 
 
 But opinion in war, as in all other things, is omnipotent. The 
 Maroons, who had braved our bayonets, our cavalry, and cannon, 
 and had overcome the terror they had entertained of our name, 
 now succumbed beneath the fear of this worse than ludicrous 
 species of force. General Walpole took advantage of their ter- 
 ror to negotiate, and a treaty w r as signed, to one article of which 
 General Walpole swore — "that the Maroons should not be sent 
 off the island." 
 
 No sooner had this handful of brave men, less than five hun- 
 dred, surrendered, than they were shipped to Nova Scotia, and 
 thence to Sierra Leone. It must be observed, that this memora- 
 ble conflict took place with only one (the Trelawney) tribe of 
 Maroons. The other tribes were neutral, or often either secret- 
 ly or openly acted in our favor. 
 
 The House of Assembly voted seven hundred guineas for a 
 sword to Lord Balcarras, which his lordship declared he would 
 transmit to his posterity, as a testimony most glorious to his name 
 and family. The House of Assembly passed a similar vote of 
 five hundred guineas to General Walpole, but that noble-minded 
 officer contemptuously refused their present, and desired permis- 
 sion to give evidence at the bar of the House, of the spirit in 
 which the treaty had been negotiated, and of the sense in which 
 it had been drawn up by himself and the Maroon Chiefs, a sense 
 diametrically opposite to that which the House was determined 
 to put upon it. This being rejected, he insisted that the Maroons 
 should have their arms restored to them, and be placed in statu 
 quo antefoedus. He even declared his conviction, that in ano- 
 ther campaign he could reduce them to entire submission by 
 force of arms. General Walpole, in addition to the high feelings 
 of a soldier, and to the established principles of good faith, felt 
 ashamed at his having used so contemptible, and, in every respect, 
 so odious a means of terror, as the Cuba blood-hounds. The 
 talent and courage he had displayed had saved the island, and, 
 indignant at the pusillanimity of the local authorities, he refused 
 the vote of the sword in such terms of contempt of the Assem- 
 bly, and of indignation at their perfidy, that the House expung- 
 ed his letter from their journals. From his being their palla- 
 dium, the god of their idolatry, he sank at once into an object 
 o c their vituperation, and w T as, in their eyes, even worse than a 
 Maroon. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 179 
 
 NARRATIVE OF SOME EVENTS IN THE IRISH REBELLION. 
 
 By an eye-witness.* 
 
 My father's name was Samuel Barbour; he held a small 
 •arm within two miles of Enniseorthy, called Clevass. It con- 
 tained but twenty-two acres, but it was rich ground, and the rent 
 was low ; it had been in our family since the battle of the Boyne, 
 for both my father's people and my mother's were Williamites.f 
 It lay in a pleasant valley between two hills, one called Coolna- 
 horna, and the other the Mine. On the former, an old tradition 
 said, that King James, when flying, stopped to take breath; and 
 an old prophecy said, that before a hundred years should have 
 elapsed from that flight, the Irish should yet gather on that hill, 
 strong and victorious. The truth of this I myself saw but too 
 clearly confirmed. 
 
 Our farm, though very productive, would not have supported 
 us in the comfort and respectability we enjoyed, but that my 
 father was also a clothier ; he bought the fleece from the sheep's 
 back, and manufactured it into middling fine cloths and friezes, 
 which he sold at the neighboring fairs. He thus gave em- 
 ployment to eight men and six women, and no one, rich or poor, 
 had ever reason to complain of Sam. Barbour. Though all our 
 neighbors of the better class were Protestants, (for we lived in 
 the midst of twenty-two families of our own persuasion,) yet all 
 the people he employed were Roman Catholics, and we met 
 with as much honesty and gratitude from them as we could have 
 desired. 
 
 My father was advanced in life when he married, and I was 
 his second child. He had five more ; the eldest, William, was 
 at this time a fine well-grown boy, little more than sixteen. I 
 was not much above fifteen, but tall and strong for my age. I had 
 
 * This narrative is taken, almost without the alteration of a word, from the 
 lips of a plain, respectable woman, the daughter of a County Wexford farm- 
 er ; and thougn unpretending in its style, it possesses the merit of strict fideli- 
 ty, and is so far curious, that few females in her rank, placed in such fear- 
 ful circumstances, could have been capable of collecting their ideas into a 
 continued narrative, and still fewer have ever met one to record it for them. 
 It will, at all events, give to the tenderly-guarded of the sex who read it, some 
 knowledge of what was once suffered by hundreds, with as kind hearts, and 
 as soft feelings, as their own ; and it will cause them to pray fervently against 
 the miseries of civil war, which, always fall heaviest on the most unoffend- 
 ing, on the widow aid the orphan, the helpless woman, and the unconscious 
 babe. 
 
 t Williamites were the soldiers of William the Third, who most of them, 
 after the finai expulsion of James the Second from Ireland, got grants of 
 land ; Clevass was one of these. The Battle of Boyne was in 1690. 
 
i80 historical cabinet. 
 
 two sisters, of eleven and six, a little brother of four years old, 
 and my mother had an infant only six weeks before the fearful 
 times which I am endeavoring to describe. 
 
 During the entire winter of 1797, when my father returned 
 from Enniscorthy, he would mention the rumors he had heard 
 of the discontents of the Roman Catholics, and the hopes they 
 entertained that the French would assist them ; but we never 
 had time to think of such things, much less to grieve about them. 
 We never imagined that any one on earth would injure us, for 
 we had never done the least hurt to any one, and we relied on 
 the strength of the government, and, in particular, on the bravery 
 of the Enniscorthy Yeomanry, for putting down any disturb- 
 ances. My brother William was one of these. 
 
 On Saturday, the 26th of May, Whitsun-eve, Martin, our 
 laborer, was shoveling oats, and my father went to the field to 
 look at him. When he saw my father drawing near, he laid 
 down his shovel, and, looking earnestly and sorrowfully at him, 
 he said, " Master, if you would promise me not to betray me, I 
 would tell you something that might serve you and yours." My 
 father answered, " You ought to know me well enough by this 
 time, Martin, to be certain that I would not betray any one, much 
 less you." '* But, master," rejoined he, " I'm sworn never to tell 
 any one that won't take the same oath that I did to be true to the 
 cause." " You unfortunate man," said my father, " I had rather 
 6ee all belonging to me dead, and die myself with them, than 
 prove false to the government that has sheltered me." On this, 
 Martin, with a heavy sigh, resumed his shovel, and continued 
 his work. My father had but little time to think on this, for he 
 was obliged to leave two cart-loads of oats at the mill of Moinart, 
 to be ground into meal for the use of the family. Moinart is 
 about two miles from Clevass, and Mr. Grimes, the miller, was 
 a Protestant, and much respected in the country. As soon as 
 my father cast his eyes on him, he saw that he too knew of some- 
 thing bad going on ; yet he hardly exchanged a word with him 
 but on business, for his heart, as he told us, was too full ; and, 
 leaving the oats to be ground, he turned back with the empty cars, 
 anxious to rejoin us as soon as possible. When he had gone 
 nearly half the road, he saw imperfectly (for it was noAv almost 
 dusk) a great dust on the road before him, and heard a confused 
 murmur of voices — a moment after he thought a body of troops 
 were advancing, for he fancied he saAv their bayonets ; but the 
 next instant he was surrounded by a party of more than two 
 hundred rebels, armed with pikes, who stopped him, and dragged 
 him off the car he was sitting on. My father was no coward 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 151 
 
 as he fully showed two days afterwards; but he said, that, at 
 that moment, the thoughts of all he had left at home rushed into 
 his mind, his knees failed him, and if he had not clung to the 
 head of his horse, he would have fallen to the earth. They 
 asked all tog-ether who he was, and where he came from, and 
 he was unable to answer ; but one of them happening to know 
 him, cried out, " Oh, let him go, that is Sam Barbour, of Clevass, 
 he is an honest man ;" and they did set him at liberty. He came 
 home, and, turning the horses over to Martin's care, he walked 
 in amongst us, and his face told us the ruin that was coming 
 upon us, before we learned it from his words. 
 
 We cared little for eating the supper we had prepared for him 
 and ourselves ; and after hearing his story, we stepped to the 
 door to listen whether any of the armed ruffians were coming 
 towards us ; we heard nothing, but we saw in the distance eleven 
 distinct blazes, every one from its situation marking out to us 
 where the house and the property of each friend and neighbor 
 were consuming. In immediate expectation of a similar fate, 
 we instantly began to load our cars with whatever furniture and 
 provisions were portable, that as early as possible the next day, 
 we might fly with them to Enniscorthy ; what we could not 
 pack up we carried out to the fields, and concealed in the ridges 
 of standing corn ; and it was but little of it we ever saw again. 
 
 We passed the whole night thus; but the poor children, 
 hungry and sleepy, lay down in the nearest corner, for we had 
 placed the beds on the cars. On Whit-Sunday morning we set 
 off for Enniscorthy, with heavy hearts, just about the same hour 
 we thought to have gone to ; * church. My mother, yet weak, 
 leaned on my father, I "• .ried the infant, and the other children 
 followed us, the M*t:<> one clinging to my gown. My brother 
 William had il ready been in Enniscorthy for more than a week 
 with his corps ; the female servant went with us, but Martin, 
 who, with his mother, lived in a small cottage on our ground, 
 staid behind us: and when we again saw him he was an armed 
 rebel. Yet, from his humanity to us, I cannot think that he 
 ever was guilty of the same cruelties that were committed by his 
 comrades. 
 
 When we entered the town, we went to the house of a relation, 
 whose name was Willis, who instantly received us, but when we 
 entered, we had hardly room to sit down, it was so full of the 
 Protestant inhabitants of the neighborhood, who had fled into 
 the town for protection. Few of these had had time to save any 
 hing, and those who, like us, had brought food, immediately 
 gave it to be shared in common. My father, on seeing us safe 
 
 16 
 
182 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 in the house, immediately went and enrolled himself amongsl 
 he Supplementary Yeomanry, and was provided with a musket 
 and cross belts, to wear over his colored clothes. There were 
 more than two hundred of the neighboring gentry and farmers 
 armed hastily in the same manner. Our regular yeomen, who 
 were clothed and disciplined, amounted to about as many more; 
 we had one company of the North Cork Militia, ninety-one in 
 number ; and it was this handful of men, not much exceeding 
 five hundred in number, that, in our simplicity, we had imagined 
 could conquer all the disaffected in the county. Excepting 
 the few militia-men, all our little garrison were neighbors, or 
 friends, or near relations, who now knowing the immense force 
 of the rebels, which was well known to exceed ten thousand, and 
 their barbarity, for they gave no quarter, knew they had no 
 choice between dying like men, with their arms in their hands, 
 or standing tamely like sheep to be butchered. Scarcely one of 
 these men but had every one that was dearest to him sheltered 
 in the town he was about defending; and yet it is this very cir- 
 cumstance that was one of the causes of their losing possession 
 of it, as I shall explain shortly. 
 
 When my father left us, and we had unpacked our furniture, 
 my sisters and I were at first so unconscious of any immediate 
 danger, that we were rather gratified by the novelty of our situa- 
 tion, and passed some time leaning out of a window, looking at 
 the horse yeomen passing hurriedly back and forwards, and dis- 
 puting between ourselves which man looked best in his uniform, 
 or sat best on his horse. A very short time however, changed 
 our feelings, when we saw seven c "ight men covered with blood 
 carried into the house, and were caiic. L o lay down our beds for 
 them to lie on; these were yeomen, who ^ ^ been skirmishing 
 in the neighborhood, and who, full as the nouse was, were 
 brought into it for present relief. I now begaia to see, for the 
 first time, some of the miseries that threatened us; and thus 
 passed a few anxious hours, when it suddenly struck me that our 
 cows would be injured if they were not milked again, and the 
 servant girl and I set out about six in the evening, and without 
 meeting any thing to injure us, we got safe to Clevass ; we found 
 all as we had left it, with the poor cows standing lowing to be 
 milked; we brought home a large pitcher each, and, on our 
 road home, rhet several Roman Catholic neighbors, with whom 
 we had lived on the most friendly terms ; we spoke to them as 
 usual, but they looked in our faces as if they had never seen us 
 before, and passed on. I have since thought they either looked 
 on us with abhorrence, as those devoted to destruction in this 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 18S 
 
 world and in the next, or that knowing our doom, and pitying 
 our fate, they were afraid to trust themselves to speak to us. We 
 could not at least accuse them of hypocrisy. 
 
 It was late when we returned to the town, and, even in the 
 midst of his anxiety, I could see joy lighten in the looks of my 
 father at our safety, for even during our short absence, the reports 
 of the rapid advance of the rebels had been so frequent, that he 
 feared we might have been intercepted on our return. The 
 milk was gratefully received by our own children, as well as all 
 the other poor little creatures sheltered in that crowded house. 
 We prayed, and endeavored to rest on the bare boards, though 
 worn out in mind and body ; but I slept but little that night, with 
 the moans of a wounded man in the very room with us, and the 
 heat and closeness of the air, so different from our own pleasant 
 airy little bed-rooms. 
 
 At the very dawn I arose, and my father seeing me preparing 
 to venture once more to see our cows, and that I was seeking in 
 vain for our servant, (whom it was many weeks before I saw 
 again,) said he would go with me, for he hoped there would not 
 be any immediate want of him in the town. We arrived at the 
 little farm, and found, as yet, all was safe. The cows waiting 
 for us, and the poor poultry and pigs looking for food that we 
 had not to give them. After attending to the cows, I thought of 
 some brown grindle-cakes we had left behind us on a shelf, and 
 went to break some to the fowls, when my father followed me 
 into our desolate kitchen, and, taking a piece of the bread, asked 
 me for a mug of the warm milk. I gave it to him, and turning 
 to the door, and casting my eyes up to Coolnahorna Hill, which 
 was not a quarter of a mile distant from us, I saw the top ridge 
 of it filled with men, armed with pikes, the heads of them glist- 
 ening brightly in the morning sun. Much troubled, I called to 
 my father, and hardly knowing what I did, I took up the large 
 vessel of milk I had intended to carry into the town for the 
 children ; but my father, looking at me as if he never thought 
 to see me again, said, " Lay that down, Jane, it is most probable 
 we shall none of us ever want it." I laid it down, and we re- 
 turned back to Enniscorthy, where we arrived breathless about 
 ten in the forenoon. As we advanced towards it, we heard the 
 drum beating to arms, and on entering, we heard that the enemy 
 were closing in on all sides of the town in vast force. We saw 
 our friends hurrying through the streets to the different posts 
 assigned to them ; the North Cork were placed on the bridge 
 over the Slany, which ran on the east side of the town ; our own 
 horse yeomanry filled the street leading from that bridge ; our 
 
184 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 infantry, amongst whom were the supplementaries, were placed 
 at the Dufrvey Gate Hill ; at the opposite extremity of the town 
 to the west, a guard of yeomen was placed over the Market- 
 house, where there was a great store of arms and ammunition, 
 and where a few prisoners were confined; some more mounted 
 guard over the castle, an ancient building, in which some of the 
 most dangerous rebels were lodged ; and my father, after leaving 
 me with my mother, put on his belts, took up his musket, and 
 joined my brother, (whom we had never seen all this time though 
 he was on duty in the town,) at the Duffrey Gate, the post they 
 were ordered to occupy. 
 
 In the course of this morning, Willis, whose house we were 
 sheltered in, put his wife and his two infants on a horse, and 
 mounting another, fled with them to Wexford ; he never told 
 any one he was leaving them, nor could we blame him, for such 
 a calamity as we were all involved in would have made the 
 most generous man selfish. And he was a friendly man, but he 
 could not save us all, so, as was but reasonable, he took with him 
 those that were nearest to him. 
 
 At eleven in the forenoon, the videttes brought word from the 
 Duffrey Gate, that the rebels were advancing towards the town 
 from the north-east, in a column that completely filled the road, 
 and was more than a mile in length ; they were calculated, by 
 some of our garrison who had served abroad, to exceed six thou- 
 sand men. They soon closed with our Enniscorthy Yeomen, 
 and the shots, and the shouting, fell sharply on our ears. I was 
 at first greatly frightened, and the children hid their faces in my 
 lap, but in a few minutes I became used to the noise, and could 
 speak to my mother, and try to give her some comfort ; but she 
 seemed stupified, and could say nothing in answer, but now and 
 then to lament that her fine boy was in the midst of the danger. 
 She seemed not to comprehend that my father was equally ex 
 posed, more especially as he (seeing that the disaffected inhabit- 
 ants had now actually begun to set their own houses on fire) 
 had twice or thrice quitted his post, on the enemy being partially 
 repulsed, and ran down to see if we were yet safe, and to tell us 
 that William was well, and behaving like a man and a soldier; 
 he then, on again hearing the advancing shouts of the rebels, 
 would rush back to the fight. This imprudence, in which he 
 did but imitate the rest of his comrades, gave dreadful advantage 
 to the enemy, yet it was not cowardice that caused them to act 
 thus, for they gave proofs of even desperate courage, but from 
 their painful anxiety for all that was dearest to them, and from 
 their being totally unacquainted with the duties of a soldier, for, 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 185 
 
 until the preceding day, the greater part of the Supplemertary 
 Yeomen had never before carried arms. 
 
 The fearful firing had now continued nearly three hours. 
 Our men were forced to fall back into the town, for our little 
 garrison was now reduced to less than two hundred, and though 
 upwards of five hundred of the enemy were killed, they were so 
 numerous that they never felt the loss. The North Cork were 
 now obliged to provide for their own safety ; and I have since 
 heard it said, that they neglected to sound a retreat, which, if 
 done, might have enabled many of the Enniscorthy men to 
 make a more regular one. As k was, some of them dispersed 
 through the fields, and gained Duncannon Fort in safety, amongst 
 whom was my brother, and the rest retreated fighting through 
 the burning streets, and more than once repulsed the enemy; 
 these would again return on them in thousands, till at last, though 
 they disputed every inch of ground, they were forced to retreat 
 to the market-house, and join their comrades who kept it. The 
 house that sheltered us was directly opposite, and though none 
 within dared venture to the windows, yet we knew, from the 
 increased uproar, that destruction had come nearer to us. At last 
 he fire reached us, and we rushed from the flames into the 
 midst of the fight, leaving all we had so anxiously saved the day 
 before to be consumed, without bestowing a thought upon it. I 
 know not what became of the wounded, but if they even perished 
 in the flames, it was a more merciful death than they would 
 have met from the rebels. We fled across the square to the 
 market-house, and I, who had never before seen a corpse, had 
 now to step over, and even upon, the bodies of those rebels who 
 had fallen by the fire of our men, whilst, whichever way I 
 turned my eyes, I saw dozens strewed around. I do not know 
 by what means we were admitted, but it was owing to the 
 courage and humanity of Mr. Grimes, the miller, and here we 
 once more met my father; we now sank exhausted with terror 
 amongst barrels of gunpowder, arms, furniture, and provisions 
 confusedly heaped up together ; but in less than an hour (during 
 which time our defenders fired often and effectually) the fire 
 reached the market-hou.se also, and all within it, women, chil- 
 dren, and yeomen, were forced to leave it, and throw themselves 
 into the midst of the enemy, who now surrounded it in thousands, 
 or they would have been destroyed by the explosion of the gun- 
 powder, which shortly after took place. As we were going to 
 unbar the doors, Grimes determined on a desperate effort for our 
 safety, he stretched out his hand, and seized the pikes of two men 
 who lay dead across the door-way, he turned then to my father, 
 
 16* 
 
186 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 and said, " Throw aside that musket, Sam, take this pike, put a 
 piece of the child's green frock upon it for a banner, and perhaps 
 you may save the lives of your family." But my father answered, 
 " Never ! I will never quit the king's cause whilst I have life." 
 Grimes then raised a flitch of bacon on his pike, and bidding us 
 follow, he rushed out of the market-house cheering, and appear- 
 ing as if he were joining the pikemen, and bearing provisions to 
 them ; my father, still holding the musket, followed. I snatched 
 up the child of four years old, my little sisters hung on my skirts, 
 and my mother, with the infant, came after me. My father now 
 turned to me, and said, " Jane, # my dear child, take care of your 
 mother, and the children !" They were the last words he ever 
 spoke to me. 
 
 Grimes stopped now to parley with the pikemen, who com- 
 pletely surrounded us, when a fine infant of five years of age, 
 the son of Joseph Fitzgerald, a near neighbor of ours, ran out to 
 join us : at this moment one of the rebels, who had some par- 
 ticular hatred to his father, unfortunately knew the child, and ex- 
 claiming, " That's an Orange brat!" pushed him down with his 
 pike (as I thought) on his back ; the child gave a faint cry, and 
 I was stooping to raise him, when I saw the pike drawn back 
 covered with its blood ! It shivered in every limb, and then lay 
 perfectly still — it was dead. I had strength given me to sup- 
 press a shriek, and I hid my face in my little brother's bosom, 
 whilst my sisters never uttered a cry, but pressed still closer to 
 me ; and my mother, who never took her eyes off my father, did 
 not see it. 
 
 We were allowed to pass over the square without any injury, 
 and were following Grimes towards the river, when I noticed a 
 pikeman following us closely, and at last pushing between my 
 father and me. In my fear and confusion I did not know the 
 man ; but I was told afterwards it was a man named Malone, 
 whom I had many times seen, and who of all other men we 
 should have thought we had least reason to fear. His mother 
 had been of a decent Protestant family, but had married a profli- 
 gate of the Roman Catholic persuasion ; he deserted her and one 
 infant, when she was with child of another, and my father's 
 mother took her home, and on her dying in childbirth of this 
 man, my kind grandmother then nursing her own child, put the 
 deserted infant to her breast, and prolonged his life for some days 
 till a nurse was provided for him, whom she paid ; he was reared 
 by our family, and was at this time a leather-cutter. I could not 
 then recollect him, however, for his face was covered with dust 
 and blood, a terrific looking figure, and his action was suspicious; 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 187 
 
 so, as if I could protect my father, I determined not to lose sight 
 of him, and, with his three young children, kept close to them. 
 Concealed in a chimney, at the corner of the lane we were now 
 about to enter, there was a yeoman, who, it was said, fired away 
 more than a hundred ball cartridges at the rebels in the square 
 below, and made every shot take effect. He at this moment took 
 aim at a pikeman within a few paces of us, who staggered some 
 steps, and fell dead across my mother's feet ; she dropped in a 
 dead swoon beside the corpse. I turned to raise her, and to lift 
 the infant from the ground it had fallen on, and I thus lost sight 
 of my father, and the fearful pikeman who followed him : I never 
 more saw him alive. But Providence thus kindly spared me 
 the sight of his murder by the very man that drew his first 
 nourishment from the same breast with himself. He followed 
 him, as I afterwards heard, into Barrack-lane, and killed him at 
 the door of a brewery: a man, named Byrne, who had the care 
 of it, saw him, through a crevice in the door, commit the act, and 
 saw him, too, with his leather-cutter's knife disfigure the face of 
 the dead, after plundering him, and stripping him of the new 
 coat he wore. 
 
 In a few minutes my mother came to herself; she arose,' and 
 we both, unconscious of our loss, went with the children towards 
 the river, thinking that perhaps we might rejoin my father there. 
 My mother was now quite bewildered, and unable to speak to, 
 much less to advise me; and I, though born so near the town, 
 had never been in it, but to church or to market, and was totally 
 ignorant whither to direct my steps. We asked at many doors 
 would they admit us, but were constantly driven away, and, for 
 the most part, with threats and curses. At last we came by 
 chance to the house of one Walsh, a baker who knew my mother, 
 and spoke compassionately to her, but we had hardly entered, 
 when five or six pikemen followed, and ordered him to turn us 
 out, or they would burn the house over our heads. He dismissed 
 us unwillingly ; and we then followed some other desolate beings 
 like ourselves, who led us into the garden of one Barker, who 
 held a high command among the rebels. His family seemed 
 not to notice us, and we here sat down, with many more, on the 
 bare ground under the bushes. All were women and children, 
 some, from their appearance, seemed to be of a rank far superior 
 to us; and I have since heard that forty-two widows passed the 
 night in that garden. Many of these knew their loss, yet fear 
 had overpowered grief so completely, that not one dared to weep 
 aloud. The children were as silent as their mothers, and when- 
 ever a footstep, going to or from the house, was heard to pass 
 
188 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 along, we dared not even look towards it, but hid our faces against 
 the earth. The moon shone brightly, and I at one time saw a 
 man led along, pinioned, but Barker, who was then in the house, 
 was so humane as not to put him to death amongst us, but ordered 
 him off for execution to Vinegar Hill. 
 
 As the night advanced, a rebel, named Lacy, observing my 
 mother to shiver violently, went out, and, soon returning, threw 
 over her shoulders about three or four yards of coarse blue cloth, 
 speaking at the same time some words of pity to her. She, in 
 her frantic terror, endeavored to cast it away, lest, as she said, 
 she should be killed for having what was not her own, but I, 
 with some difficulty, made her keep it, and, except the clothes 
 we wore, it was the only covering by night or day we had for 
 ten weeks. 
 
 In the dead of the night I began to take somewhat more 
 courage, and hearing a strange noise in a lane, which was 
 divided from the garden only by a low wall, I crept to it, and 
 saw a sight that soon drove me back to my mother's side. Some 
 wounded men had been dragged to die in that lane, and some 
 boys of the rebel's side, were mounted on horses, and galloping 
 up and down many times across their bodies, whilst the only 
 signs of life they showed were deep groans. But Barker, when 
 he heard of this cruelty, put a stop to it, and allowed them to die 
 in peace. 
 
 A Protestant lady, of great respectability, was allowed by 
 Barker to take shelter with her children in his house. As a 
 great mark of good will towards her, some thin stirabout was 
 made for her early the next morning, which was Tuesday. She 
 had noticed us from the house, and beckoning to me, with much 
 kindness gave me a platefull of it for our children, but, though 
 they tasted, they could not eat, for terror had completely deprived 
 them of appetite. 
 
 About nine, I felt such a desire to rejoin my father, and to 
 leave that garden, that I left my mother's side, and went alone 
 towards the garden gate, to see if it were possible. The first 
 person I saw at it was Martin's mother, dressed completely in 
 new and excellent clothes, and in particular wearing a remark- 
 ably handsome hat. Knowing her poverty, I was so much 
 astonished at her appearance, that, forgetting for the moment all 
 my anxiety and fear, I asked her where she got the hat; to 
 which she replied, sternly, " Hush ! 'tis not for one like you to 
 ask me where I got it." I then said, " Oh ! did you see my 
 father?" " I have," answered she, "and he is dead!" 
 
 I forgot what I said or did for some minutes after this, but I 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET 189 
 
 found Mary Martin had drawn me away from the garden gate, 
 lest, as she said, my cries should inform my mother of what had 
 befallen us. I clung to her, and entreated her to take me to him, 
 that I might see him once more. She at first refused, but at last, 
 to pacify my violence, she consented. We went about a quarter 
 of a mile to Barrack-lane, where, lying in the midst of eight or 
 ten other bodies, with two pikemen standing looking on, I saw 
 and knew my father. 
 
 He lay on his back, with one hand on his breast, and his 
 knee slightly raised, his shirt was steeped in blood, the lower 
 part of his face disfigured with the gashes of the ruffian's knife, 
 and his mouth filled purposely with the dirt of the street ; beside 
 him lay our large masting who had licked all the blood off his 
 face, and who, though he was heard two or three nights after 
 howling piteously round our burnt cottage, was never again seen 
 by any one. I can now describe what then almost killed me to 
 look upon. I felt as if suffocating : I thought, as I looked on 
 him, that I could have given my mother, my brother, even my 
 own life, to have brought him back again. I fell on my knees 
 beside him, and, whilst kissing his forehead, broke out into Joud 
 cries, when one of the pikemen gave me such a blow in the 
 side with the handle of his pike, (cursing me at the same time,) 
 that it stretched me breathless for a moment beside my father, 
 and would have broken my ribs but for the very strong stays 
 which I had on. He was going to repeat the blow, but that 
 his comrade leveled his pike, and cried out, " If you dare do 
 that again, I'll thrust this through your body ! Because the 
 child is frightened, are you to ill-treat her ?" He then raised 
 me; and I knew him to be a man named Bryan, who but the 
 week before had purchased some cloth from my father at a fair 
 to which I had accompanied him. He spoke kindly to me, and 
 led me back to the garden where I had left my mother, telling 
 me to keep silence as to what I had seen, lest she should perish 
 with fear and grief. 
 
 We remained without food all that day, and towards six in 
 the evening, Barker's family turned us all out of the garden, for 
 they said it was not safe for us to remain there any longer. 
 I now thought to take my mother home, for she was totally in- 
 capable of giving me advice; but just as we arrived at the outskirts 
 of the town, and were slowly walking by the river, a party of rebels 
 on the opposite bank ordered us to return again, or they would fire 
 on us. We then endeavored to quit it by another outlet, when we 
 were surrounded by a strong body of pikemen, and led, with 
 many more whom they had already prisoners, to Vinegar HiU 
 14 
 
.90 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 This hill lies close to Enniscorthy ; it is not high, but tole- 
 rably steep, and the rebels were assembled on it in thousands. 
 They seemed to have a few tents made of blankets, but the 
 greater number were in the open air. I could see that some 
 were cooking at large hres, whilst others lay about sleeping on 
 the ground. It was probably about eight in the evening when 
 we arrived at the hill, when the men whom they had captured 
 were separated from us, and driven higher up, whilst we, and 
 many other women and children, were ordered to sit down, in a 
 dry ditch not far from the foot of it. We had not been long 
 here, when we were accosted by a neighbor, whose name was 
 Mary Donnelly ; she was a rebel's wife, and had now come to 
 the hill to join her husband. She pitied us, and sat beside my 
 mother the entire of that night, who, feeling her presence a pro- 
 tection, would cower down beside her when she heard the 
 slightest noise. And that whole night we heard fearful sounds 
 on the hill above us, as the men who were brought there prisoners 
 with ourselves, were massacred one by one. We could hear 
 distinctly the cries of the murdered, and the shouts of the execu- 
 tioners. The moon shone brightly, and, towards dawn, I saw what 
 I think alarmed me even more than any sight I had yet beheld. 
 4 tall white figure came rushing down the hill ; as it came 
 nearer, it had the appearance of a naked man, and I felt my 
 heart die within me, for I thought it was no living being. He 
 passed so close to us, that I could see the dark streams of blood 
 running down his sides. In some minutes the uproar above 
 showed he was missed, and his pursuers passed also close to us ; 
 one of them perceived I was awake, and asked if I had seen 
 him pass, but I denied it. This was a young gentleman named 
 Horneck, one of the finest lads in the county Wexford ; he had 
 been piked and stripped, but recovering, had fled from the hill, 
 he waded the Slaney, and ran six miles to the ruins of his 
 father's house, where his pursuers reached him, and completed 
 their work of death. 
 
 On Wednesday, about ten in the forenoon, owing to the inter- 
 cession of Mary Donnelly, we were allowed to leave the hill. 
 When we had gone about a furlong, I was shocked at missing 
 the infant from my mother's arms. On inquiring of her what 
 had become of it, she seemed at first not to understand me ; 
 she was so much bewildered, she had actually forgotten it be- 
 hind her. I returned, and found the poor little creature asleep 
 on the ground, where she had laid it, and she did not even seem 
 to rejoice when it was restored to her. In our slow progress 
 towards home, we met a silly, harmless fellow, a woc?d-ranger, 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 19i 
 
 who called himself a pikeman, but who was armed only with 
 the handle of a shovel, with no head on it. He took one of our 
 children on his back, and another in his arms, and said he 
 would not leave us till we had arrived at our own house. When 
 within half a mile of it, we met a Roman Catholic lad, a school- 
 fellow of my own, named Murphy, who wept bitterly on seeing 
 us, and, perceiving that we were sinking with weakness, he led 
 us to the next house, insisted on our admission, and then flew 
 off to his father's cottage for some bread and milk, but though 
 two days had now fully passed since we had eaten, we could 
 only moisten our lips. We were allowed to rest here til] 
 towards evening, but were then ordered to leave the house by 
 the owners, for they said that our stay endangered their own 
 safety. Murphy again gave my mother his arm ; towards dusk 
 we at last reached the home we had so long wished for, and 
 found the house only a heap of ruins. It had been burned to 
 the ground, the side walls had fallen in, and nothing remained 
 standing but one chimney and a barn, from which the doors 
 and part of the roof had been torn. Our little factory also lay 
 in ashes, with all our looms, presses, wheels, and machines. 
 All our cloth and wool, which we had concealed in the corn, 
 was carried off; our young cattle, horses, and pigs, were all 
 driven to Vinegar Hill, our stacks of hay and corn were burnt 
 down, and yet we stood looking on all this desolation in utter 
 silence, as if we could not comprehend that it was on ourselves 
 it had fallen. 
 
 My father's brother lived within two fields of us : his wife 
 had been uncommonly charitable to beggars, or poor travelers, 
 as they called themselves, and even had an out-house, with 
 clean straw, purposely for them to sleep in. One of these, a 
 woman of the very lowest class, when she saw the family on 
 the preceding Sunday, preparing to take refuge, as we did, in 
 Enniscorthy, clung round them, and between entreaties and 
 threats prevailed on them to remain in their house. She re- 
 mained, also, and protected them ; and, owing to her courage 
 and presence of mind, she saved nearly their entire property 
 from destruction, for she turned back more than one party of 
 rebels who were bent on murder and plunder. My uncle hear- 
 ing that we were standing at the ruins of our house, came to 
 us, and led us to his, where we found more than fifty women 
 and children, many of the highest class, who had no other place 
 in which to lay their heads, nor a morsel to satisfy the hunger, 
 which (now that they were no longer in immediate terror for 
 their lives) tbey began to feel. 
 
192 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 All the provisions in the house had heen given to the differ- 
 ent parties of rebels who had called, but we milked all the cows, 
 both those of my uncle and our own (which had not been carried 
 away with the rest of our cattle) and made curds, which, for 
 some days, was our only food. On the third day, poor Martin 
 came to see us, he wept with us, and gave us two sacks of 
 barley meal, which he and his comrades had plundered from 
 some other distressed family, but want forced us to accept them 
 with gratitude. My uncle, in a day or two more, found that 
 two of our pigs had returned home, and he killed them, which 
 gave us a great supply of food. In about a fortnight, the greater 
 part of those creatures he had sheltered departed to whatever 
 homes or friends were left to them, but still, for many weeks, 
 we, and several as desolate, were entirely dependent on him. 
 
 In a few days after Martin's first visit, he came again, with 
 some tea and sugar for my mother, whose health was now so 
 precarious, that, for many days, it was her only nourishment ; 
 and until he was killed, about the latter end of June, at Borris, 
 he continued to show us similar kindness. Even when dying, 
 he made his comrades promise to carry his body to his mother 
 and us, though the distance was twenty miles, and we had him 
 laid in his own burial-ground, as he earnestly desired. 
 
 On the day after we returned, my aunt said to me, " I shall 
 tell your mother of your father's death ; for it is better she 
 should be in sorrow than in her present state of stupefaction." 
 She did so, and I cannot bear even now to think of how my 
 mother behaved when she heard it ; yet the thoughts of his 
 body lying unburied seemed to give her (even in the midst of 
 her extreme grief) the greatest anguish. My aunt, who was a 
 woman of great strength of mind, and who loved my father as 
 if he had been her own brother, now proposed that I should 
 accompany her, the next day (Friday,) to the town, to seek for 
 the body, which we agreed to lay in one of those pits in which 
 we buried our potatoes, but which was now empty and open. 
 We went in much apprehension, and on reaching the town, 
 and passing through the market-place, we could hardly tell 
 which way to go, the appearance of every place was so much 
 altered by the number of houses that lay in ruins. No one 
 molested us, and with some difficulty we found the place where 
 1. had seen my father lying, but, on reaching it, the body was 
 no longer there. All the others had also been removed ; yet 
 the smell of putridity was so strong that my aunt fainted. I 
 brought her home again, and we found Martin there ; and he 
 seeing my mother's anguish, told her he had laid his master's 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 193 
 
 oody in a gravel pit: but this, I knew, was merely to soothe 
 her ; and I was afterwards told, that it and the others had been 
 thrown into the Slaney, which ran close beside the spot, but a 
 few hours before we went to seek for it. I 
 
 We lived thus for some weeks, in constant dread, both of the 
 rebels and even of the straggling parties of the military sen; 
 out to apprehend them ; from the first, we were protected by 
 the female beggar and Martin's mother, who lived with us ; 
 but the last, either not knowing we were loyalists, or not caring, 
 frequently behaved with much insolence; the smaller the party 
 was, the more we dreaded them ; and more than once myself 
 and a few more young girls, fearing to pass the night in the 
 house, slept in the center of a large holly bush, at some distance 
 from it. But after the rebels were repulsed at Newtown Barry, 
 and finally routed at Vinegar Hill, a regular camp was formed 
 within a quarter of a mile from my uncle's house ; we were 
 then in safety, for the soldiers were under better discipline, and 
 we found an excellent market for our milk and butter, which 
 enabled us to purchase a few indispensable articles of furniture 
 and clothing, and to fit up the barn as a dwelling-house. About 
 this time, Grimes, who saved not only his life but his mill, and 
 the greater part of his property, restored a good part of our oat- 
 meal. The latter end of July, a field of barley, which had 
 escaped trampling, became ripe, our new potatoes became fit 
 for use, and we never afterwards knew want. We could not, 
 however, rebuild our house till the next summer; and the 
 blackened walls of our little factory (which we could never 
 afford to build) are yet to be seen. 
 
 A few nights after Vinegar Hill was taken by the king's 
 forces, I went with a lantern to an unfrequented outhouse, to 
 oring in some straw for our beds ; Martin's mother, who did 
 not at first know where I was going, followed me, in much 
 agitation; but I had already reached the little building, and, as 
 1 removed the sheaves, I was dreadfully shocked at seeing that 
 they concealed four or five pallid, ghastly-looking creatures, 
 who, on seeing me, entreated me, in the most piteous manner, 
 not to betray them. They were rebels, who had been badly 
 wounded in the battle; and the woman who sheltered them 
 there, and supplied them with food from my uncle's house, 
 joined her entreaties to theirs, and I promised I would be silent. 
 In four days more, one died there, and the rest were able to 
 remove. I have been since blamed for not giving them up, 
 but I have never repented that I kept my promise to them. 
 
 It was just seven weeks after the beginning of all our sorrows^ 
 
 17 
 
194 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 that, as I was passing, one evening, near the ruins of our houses 
 I was greatly startled at hearing from within it the deep sobs 
 and suppressed lamentations of some person in great trouble. 
 I ventured to look in, and found they proceeded from a man 
 who was sitting on a low part of the fallen wall, with his head 
 resting on his knees. When he heard me he arose, and I saw 
 it was my brother ; but if it had not been for the strong like- 
 ness he yet bore to my father, I should never have known 
 him ; from a fair ruddy boy, he had become a haggard, sun- 
 burnt man, so thin, that his waist might have been almost 
 spanned ; and this change had been wrought in him by want 
 and hardship, in the short space of eight weeks, for it was just 
 so long since we had met. He immediately turned when he 
 saw me, and fled from me at his utmost speed. In four days 
 more he returned again to us, and seemed more composed ; he 
 occasionally got leave of absence to assist in our business of 
 the farm, but he never could settle entirely with us till the win- 
 ter was past. In one of his short visits, being alone with him, 
 I asked him how soon he became acquainted with my father's 
 death, and he answered, " I knew of it before I was told of it. 
 I knew it when I was on guard at Duncannon Fort, the third 
 night after the battle of Enniscorthy, for I saw him as plainly 
 as I see you. I was overpowered with hunger and fatigue, and 
 I slept on my post, and he stood beside me and awakened me ; 
 as I opened my eyes, I saw him clearly in the bright moonlight ; 
 he passed away from before me, and I knew by what I felt he 
 was no living man !" This might have been but a dream, yet 
 who can say he was not permitted to save his son from the 
 certain death that awaited him if he had been found sleeping 
 on his post ? 
 
 I have now told the principal circumstances that fell under 
 my own eye during the fearful summer of 1798, in which, 
 besides my father, I lost fourteen uncles, cousins, and near rela- 
 tions; but if I were to tell all I saw, and all I heard, it would 
 fill a large volume. Yet before I conclude, I must mention one 
 evil that arose from the rebellion, not generally noticed, but the 
 ill effects of which may be said still to continue. The yeomanry 
 was composed mostly of fine boys, sons of farmers, some of 
 whom had scarcely attained the age of sixteen ; these, removed 
 from the eye of their parents, with arms placed in their hands, 
 raised to the rank of men before they had discretion to behave 
 as such, and exposed to all the temptations of idleness, intoxica- 
 tion, and evil companions, when peaceful times returned, were 
 totally unable to settle to their farms, (too often left by their 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 195 
 
 father's death to them alone,) but continued the same careless, 
 disorderly life, till they became quite unable to pay their rents. 
 They were then ejected, and emigrated to America ; and on 
 the very farms which, thirty years ago, were possessed by old 
 Protestant families, there now live the immediate descendants 
 of the very people who may be said to have been the original 
 cause of all this evil. 
 
 This, thank God, has not been the case with our family. 
 Clevass is still in my brother's hands; my mother, now an 
 aged woman, lives with him, and all the rest of our family hav 
 been for many years married, and settled in our own homes. 
 Yet fears and suspicions still remain in the hearts of the two 
 opposite parties in the county Wexford, and until the present 
 generation, and their children after them, shall have passed 
 away, it will never be otherwise : for those who, like me, have 
 seen their houses in ashes, their property destroyed, and their 
 nearest and dearest lying dead at their feet, though they may, 
 and should forgive, they never can forget. R. E. S. 
 
 ALEXANDER SELKIRK. 
 
 The following account is extracted principally from " The life 
 of Alexander Selkirk, containing the real incidents upon which 
 the romance of Robinson Crusoe is founded. By John Howell." 
 Published in Edinburgh, 1829. Alexander was a sadly unruly 
 boy. His first feats are thus described : 
 
 " When the accounts reached Scotland of the Revolution, and 
 of the expulsion of the Stuarts, the complying clergy, who were 
 in general much disliked by their parishioners, were in many 
 places turned out of their churches with tumult and reproaches. 
 In no part of Scotland was more zeal shown at this time for the 
 non-complying ministers than at Largo. On the first Sabbath- 
 day, the people assembled in the churchyard, with such arms 
 as they could muster, to resist jhe clergyman's entry into the 
 church to do the duties of his office. Alexander's eldest brother 
 John, was ringleader, and Alexander himself, though only thir- 
 teen years of age, nourished his bludgeon by his side. But 
 no attempt was made to resist the mob, and their pastor, after 
 dividing among the poor what money was in the poor's box, 
 quietly retired from his parish, having few supporters when for- 
 saken by the government. 
 
 M Until the year 1695 Alexander continued at home, work- 
 
196 HISTORICAL CAB NET. 
 
 ing with his father ; but he was still very unsettled, ana 
 gave his parents much cause of uneasiness, by his wayward 
 humors and irregular conduct, which at length brought him 
 under church censure. Being now eighteen years of age, and 
 spurning the control of his father, he went to sea, rather than 
 be rebuked in church for his improper behavior. For a pe- 
 riod of six years he remained abroad; but in what situation, or 
 in what particular part of the world, there are no documents to 
 prove. That he was with the Bucaneers in the South Seas, I 
 am much inclined to believe, for the two following reasons : 1st, 
 His boisterous conduct to his younger brother, Andrew, who was 
 weak in his intellects, for only laughing at his drinking salt 
 water by mistake, and his attempt to seize a pistol, (probably 
 brought home with him from sea,) shows a recklessness of con- 
 sequences, which he could only have acquired among that body. 
 2dly, His appointment to be sailing master of the Cinque Ports 
 galley, a situation of trust, requiring a previous knowledge of 
 the seas to be navigated, when a fit person can be obtained. At 
 this period there is no probability that they were scarce ; and 
 Dampier himself, an able seaman, knew well how to choose his 
 officers, and never would have given his consent to the nomina- 
 tion of a master not fully qualified." 
 
 The voyage in the Cinque Ports galley, Captain Dampier, 
 of which he was sailing-master, is given at great length. The 
 cause of his landing at Juan Fernandez is thus stated : 
 
 " From this period until the end of August, the Cinque Ports 
 kept cruising along the shores of Mexico, or among the islands, 
 without any success, the St. George having gone to the coast of 
 Peru. During this period a violent quarrel arose between 
 1 Honest Selkirk,' as Harris calls our hero, and Captain Strad* 
 ling. So high did the dispute arise, that Selkirk resolved to 
 leave the vessel, whatever might be the consequence. At length 
 want of provisions, and the crazy state of the ship, compelled 
 Stradling to sail for the Island of Juan Fernandez, to refit. He 
 was in hopes of recovering the stores and men which they had left 
 there at the commencement of their cruise in these seas; in which, 
 as has been already remarked, he was disappointed, as the two 
 French whalers had taken away every thing, and he only recover- 
 ed two of his men, who had been successful in concealing them- 
 selves. Their account of the manner in which they had spent 
 their time, fixed the resolution that Selkirk had formed some 
 time before, to leave the ship and remain upon the Island. 
 
 " From the beginning to the end of September, the vessel re- 
 mained undergoing repairs. The disagreement instead of being 
 
\ 
 
Alexander Selkirk — Page 197. 
 
 Taking of the Bastile,— Page 202. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 197 
 
 ma ie up, became greater every day, and strengthened the reso- 
 lution which Selkirk had made to leave the vessel. Just before 
 getting under weigh, he was landed with all his effects, and he 
 leaped on shore with a faint sensation of freedom and joy. He 
 shook hands with his comrades, and bade them adieu in a hearty 
 manner, while Stradling sat in the boat, urging their return to 
 the ship, which order they instantly obeyed ; but no sooner did 
 the sound of their oars, as they left the beach, fall on his ears, 
 than the horrors of being left alone, cut off from all human 
 society, perhaps for ever, rushed upon his mind. His heart 
 sunk within him, and all his resolution failed. He rushed 
 into the water, and implored them to return and take him on 
 board with them. To all his entreaties Stradling turned a deaf 
 ear, and even mocked his despair ; denouncing the choice he 
 had made of remaining upon the island as rank mutiny, and 
 describing his present situation as the most proper state for 
 such a fellow, where his example would not affect others." 
 
 His feelings on the island we will not give after Mr. Howell, 
 because as the name does not make much difference in this 
 matter, we take it that Defoe's account of them may be alto- 
 gether as true. His rescue we give : 
 
 " Alexander saw the boat leave the Duke and pull for the 
 beach. He ran down joyfully to meet his countrymen, and to 
 hear once more the human voice. He took in his hand a piece 
 of linen tied upon a small pole as a flag, which he waved as 
 they drew near to attract their attention. At length he heard 
 them call to him, inquiring for a good place to land, which he 
 pointed out, and flying as swift as a deer towards it, arrived 
 first, where he stood ready to receive them as they stepped on 
 shore. He embraced them by turns ; but his joy was too great 
 for utterance, while their astonishment at his uncouth appear- 
 ance struck them dumb. He had at this time his last shirt 
 upon his back; his feet and legs were bare, his thighs and 
 body covered with the skins of wild animals. His beard, 
 which had not been shaved for four years and four months, 
 was of a great length, while a rough goat-skin cap covered his 
 head. He appeared to them as wild as the original owners of 
 the skins which he wore. At length, they began to converse, 
 and he invited them to his hut ; but its access was so very 
 difficult and intricate, that only Captain Fry accompanied him 
 over the rocks which led to it. When Alexander had enter- 
 tained him in the best manner he could, they returned to the 
 boat, our hero bearing a quantity of his roasted goats' flesh for 
 ihe refreshment of the crew. During their repast he gave 
 
 17* 
 
a98 historical cabinet. 
 
 them an account of his adventures and stay upon the island, at 
 which they were much surprised. Captains Dover and Fry 
 invited him to come on board ; but he declined their invitation, 
 until they satisfied him that Dampier had no command in this 
 expedition ; after which he gave a reluctant consent." 
 
 We omit his next set of adventures, which, however, are 
 well worthy of record, and are well recorded, to join him on 
 his return to Scotland : 
 
 " For a few days Selkirk was happy in the company of hrs 
 parents and friends ; but, from long habits, he soon felt averse 
 to mixing in society, and was most happy when alone. For 
 days his relations never saw his face from the dawn until late 
 in the evening, when he returned to bed; It was his custom to 
 go out in the morning, carrying with him provisions for the 
 day; then would he wander and meditate alone through the 
 secluded and solitary valley of Keil's Den. The romantic 
 beauties of the place, and, above all, the stillness that reigned 
 there, reminded him of his beloved island, which he never 
 thought of but with regret for having left it. When evening 
 forced him to return to the haunts of men, he appeared to do 
 so with reluctance ; for he immediately retired to his room up 
 stairs, where his chest at present stands, and in the exact place, 
 it is probable, where it then stood. Here was he accustomed 
 to amuse himself with two cats that belonged to his brother, 
 which he taught, in imitation of a part of his occupations on 
 his solitary island, to dance and perform many little feats. 
 They were extremely fond of him, and used to watch his re- 
 turn. He often said to his friends, no doubt thinking of him- 
 self in his youth, ' That were children as docile and obedient, 
 parents would all be happy in them.' But poor Selkirk him- 
 self was now far from being happy, for his relations often 
 found him in tears. 
 
 ".Attached to his father's house was a piece of ground, oc- 
 cupied as a garden, which rose in a considerable acclivity 
 backwards. Here, on the top of the eminence, soon after his 
 arrival at Largo, Alexander constructed a sort of cave, com- 
 manding an extensive and delightful view of the Forth and its 
 shores. In fits of musing meditation, he was wont to sit here 
 in bad Aveather, and even at other times, and to bewail his ever 
 having left his island. This recluse and unnatural propensity, 
 is it appeared to them, was cause of great grief to his parents, who 
 often remonstrated with him, and endeavored to raise his spirits. 
 But their efforts were made in vain ; nay, he sometimes broke 
 out before them in a passion of grief, and exclaimed, ' O, my 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 199 
 
 beloved island ! I wish I had never left thee ! I never was be- 
 fore the man I was on thee ! I have not been such since I left 
 thee! and, I fear, never can be again !' 
 
 " Dr. Lamond, who resided in Largo, and died there a very- 
 old man, used often to point out to John Selcraig, the teacher, 
 the spot where the cave was formed, as he remembered, when 
 a child, to have seen the solitary Alexander seated under its roof. 
 
 " Having plenty of money, he purchased a boat for himself, 
 and often, when the weather would permit, he made little ex- 
 cursions, but always alone ; and day after day he spent in fish- 
 ing, either in the beautiful bay of Largo, or at Kingscraig 
 Point, where he would loiter till evening among its romantic 
 cliffs, catching lobsters, his favorite amusement, as they re- 
 minded him of the crawfish of Juan Fernandez. The rock to 
 which he moored his boat is still shown. It is at a small dis- 
 tance from Lower Largo, to the eastward of the Temple-house. 
 
 " It was thus he lived during his short stay at home, evi- 
 dently far from being happy or contented. The visions he had 
 formed of domestic life could not be realized, and he remained 
 among his friends only because he knew not what better to do 
 with himself. He found that he was not fitted for society ; his 
 enjoyments were all solitary; his pleasures were derived 
 wholly from himself: he felt oppressed by the kind attentions 
 of strangers. At length chance threw an object in his way, 
 that awakened in his mind a new train of thoughts and feelings, 
 and roused him from his lethargy. In his wanderings up the 
 burnside of Keil's Den to the ruins of Balcruive Castle and its 
 romantic neighborhood, he often met a young girl seated alone, 
 tending a single cow, the property of her parents. Her lonely 
 occupation and innocent looks made a deep impression upon 
 him. He watched her for hours unseen, as she amused her- 
 self with the wild flowers she gathered, or chanted her rural 
 lays. At each meeting the impression became stronger, and 
 he felt more interested in the young recluse. At length he 
 addressed himself to her, and they joined in conversation : he 
 had no aversion to commune with her for hours together, and 
 began to imagine that he could live and be happy with a com- 
 panion such as she. His fishing expeditions were now 
 neglected. Even his cave became not so sweet a retreat. His 
 mmd led him to Keil's Den and the amiable Sophia. He 
 never mentioned this adventure and attachment to his friends : 
 for he felt ashamed, after his discourses to them, and the pro- 
 fession he had made of dislike to human society, to acknow- 
 ledge that he was upon the point of marrying, and 'hereby 
 
200 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 plunging into the midst of worldly cares. But he was dete* 
 mined to marry Sophia, though as firmly resolved not to remain 
 at home to be the subject of their jests. This resolution being 
 formed, he soon persuaded the object of his choice to elope with 
 him, and bid adieu to the romantic glen. Between lovers, 
 matters are soon arranged, and, accordingly, without the know- 
 ledge of their parents, they both set off for London. Alexander 
 left his chest and all his clothes behind ; nor did he ever claim 
 them again ; and his friends knew nothing and heard nothing 
 of him for many years after ; still they kept his effects un- 
 touched in hopes of his return. Both his father and mother 
 were dead, when, in the end of the year 1724, or beginning of 
 1725, twelve years after his elopement with Sophia Bruce, a 
 gay widow, by name Frances Candis or Candia, came to Largo 
 to claim the property left to him by his father, — the house at 
 the Craigie Well. She produced documents to prove her 
 right ; from which it appeared that Sophia Bruce lived but a 
 very few years after her marriage, and must have died some 
 time between the years 1717 and 1720. This is farther esta- 
 blished by the will and power of attorney, preserved in the 
 Scots Magazine, vol. xlvii. page 672, which is dated in 1717 " 
 
 TAKING OF THE BAST1LE. 
 
 It has been generally believed that the taking of the Bastile 
 was the preconcerted effort of reviving liberty ; but this was 
 really not the case. Some of the most important actions, which 
 have been achieved by courage or activity, have in their ori- 
 gin, been directed by that imperceptible chain of events, which 
 human blindness terms accident or chance. Like the Hotel 
 des Invalids, the Bastile had, from the first moment of the 
 alarms in Paris, been put into a state of defense. Fifteen 
 pieces of cannon were mounted on the towers; and three field- 
 pieces, loaded with grape and case shot, guarded the first gate. 
 An immense quantity of powder and military stores had been 
 brought from the arsenal, and distributed to the different corps ; 
 the mortars had been exercised ; the draw-bridge and gates 
 strengthened and repaired ; the house of the governor himself 
 was fortified, and guarded by light pieces of artillery. The 
 shortness of the time had not permitted him to be equally pro- 
 vident in laying in a sufficient store of provisions. The forces 
 which the fortress included were chiefly foreigners. On the 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 201 
 
 morning of the 14th, several deputations had waited on the 
 Marquis de Launay, the governor, to demand arms and peace: 
 they were courteously received by him, and he gave them the 
 strongest assurances of his good intentions. Indeed, it is said 
 that he was himself averse to hostile measures, had he not 
 been seduced by the perfidious counsels of Sieur Louis de Flue, 
 commander of the Swiss guards, by the orders of the Baron 
 de Bezenval, and by the promises of M. de Flesselles. The 
 Swiss soldiers had even been engaged by an oath, to fire on 
 the invalids who were in the fortress, if they refused to obey 
 the governor ; and the invalids themselves, it is said, were in- 
 toxicated with a profusion of liquor, which had been distributed 
 among them. 
 
 At about eleven o'clock in the morning, M. de la Rosiere, a 
 deputy of the district of St. Louis de la Culture, waited on the 
 governor, and was accompanied by a mixed multitude of all 
 descriptions. He entered alone into the house of the governor, 
 and the people remained in the outer court. " I come, sir," 
 said the deputy, " in the name of the nation, to represent to 
 you, that the cannons, which are leveled against the city from 
 the towers of the Bastile, have excited the most alarming ap- 
 prehensions, and I must entreat that you will remove them." 
 The governor replied " that it was not in his power to remove 
 the guns, (as they had always been there,) without an order 
 from the king : that he would, however, dismount them, and 
 turn them out of the embrasures." The deputy having with 
 difficulty obtained leave, from M. de Losme, major of the fort- 
 ress, to enter into the interior court, summoned the officers and 
 soldiers, in, the name of honor, and their country, to alter the 
 direction of the guns, &c. ; and the whole of them, at the de- 
 sire even of the governor, engaged themselves by oath, to make 
 no use of their arms, unless attacked. M. de la Rosiere, after 
 having ascended one of the towers with M. de Launay, went 
 out of the castle, promising to engage the citizens to send a 
 part of the national guard to do the duty of the Bastile, in con- 
 junction with the troops. 
 
 The deputy had scarcely retired, before a number of citizens 
 approached the gate, and demanded arms and ammunition. 
 As the majority of them were unarmed, and announced no 
 hostile intention, M. de Launay made no difficulty of receiving 
 them, and lowered the first draw-bridge to admit them. The 
 more determined of the party advanced to acquaint him with 
 the object of their mission : but they had scarcely entered tho 
 first court than the bridge was drawn up, and a general dis^ 
 
202 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 charge of musketry destroyed the greater part of these unfor- 
 tunate people. 
 
 The motives of the governor, for this apparent act of perfidy, 
 have never been explained, and it cannot be sufficiently regret- 
 ted, that the intemperate vengeance of the populace did not 
 allow him to enter on his defense, before some impartial court. 
 All, therefore, that can be said at present, is, that its immediate 
 effect was to raise the resentment of the people almost to frenzy. 
 The instantaneous determination was to storm the fortress, and 
 the execution was as vigorous as the resolution was daring. 
 An immense multitude, armed with muskets, sabers, &c, rush- 
 ed at once into the outer courts. A soldier of the name of 
 Tournay, climbed over the corps-de-garde, and leaped alone 
 into the interior court. After searching in vain for the keys 
 of the draw-bridges in the corps-de-garde, he called out for a 
 hatchet, and soon broke the locks and bolts ; and being second- 
 ed by the efforts of the people on the other side, the two draw- 
 bridges were immediately lowered. The people lost no time 
 in making good their station ; where for more than an hour 
 they sustained a most severe fire from the garrison, and an- 
 swered it with equal vigor. 
 
 During the contest, several deputations from the Hotel de 
 Ville, appeared before the walls with flags of truce, intending 
 to persuade the besieged to a peaceful surrender ; but either 
 they were not discovered, amidst the general confusion, or what 
 is more probable, M. de Launay despaired of finding mercy at 
 the hands of the populace, and still flattered himself with some 
 delusive hope of deliverance. The guards, who now acted 
 openly with the people, proved of essential service; and, by 
 the advice of some of the veterans of this corps, three wagons 
 loaded with straw were set on fire under the walls, the smoke 
 of which interrupted the view, and consequently intercepted the 
 aim of the besieged ; while the assailants, being at a greater 
 distance, were able to direct their fire to the battlements with 
 an unerring aim. In the mean time, the arsenal was stormed, 
 and a most dreadful havoc was prevented there, by the pru- 
 dence and courage of M. Humbert, who first mounted the 
 towers of the Bastile : a hair-dresser was in the very act of 
 Betting fire to the magazine of powder, when M. Humbert, 
 whose notice was attracted by the cries of a woman, knocked 
 the desperado down with the butt end of his musket ; next, in- 
 stantly seizing a barrel of salt-peter, which had already caught 
 fire, and turning it upside down, he was happy enough to ex- 
 tinguish it. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 203 
 
 Nothing could equal the ardor and spirit of the besiegers : 
 an immense crowd, as if unconscious of danger, filled the 
 courts of the fortress, in spite of the unremitted fire of the gar- 
 rison, and even approached so near the towers, that M. de Lau- 
 nay himself frequently rolled large masses of stone from the 
 platform, upon their heads. Within, all was confusion and 
 terror; the officers themselves served at the guns, and dis- 
 charged their firelocks in the ranks. But when the governor 
 saw the assailants take possession of the first bridge, and draw 
 up their cannon against the second, his courage then was 
 changed into despair, and even his understanding appeared to 
 be deranged. He rashly sought to bury himself under the 
 enormous mass, which he had in vain attempted to defend. 
 While a turnkey was engaged in distributing wine to the sol- 
 diers, he caught the match from one of the pieces of cannon, 
 tnd ran to the magazine with an intention to set it on fire ; but 
 a subaltern, of the name of Ferrand, repulsed him with his 
 bayonet. He then went down to the tour de la liberte, where 
 he had deposited a quantity of powder ; but here he was also 
 opposed by the Sieur Beguard, another subaltern officer, who 
 thus prevented an act of insanity, which must have destroyed 
 thousands of citizens, and with the Bastile, would have infallibly 
 blown up all the adjacent buildings, ana a considerable part of 
 the suburb of St. Antoine. De Launay at length proposed 
 seriously to the garrison to blow up the fortress, as it was im- 
 possible they could hope for mercy from the mob. But he was 
 answered by the soldiers, that they would rather perish than 
 destroy, in this insidious manner, such a number of their fel- 
 low citizens. He then hung out a white flag, intimating his 
 desire to capitulate; and a Swiss officer would have addressed 
 the assailants through one of the loop-holes of the draw-bridge; 
 but the hour was past, and the exasperated populace would 
 attend to no offer of capitulation. Through the same opening 
 he next displayed a paper, which the distance prevented the 
 besiegers from reading. A person brought a plank, which 
 was rested on a parapet, and poised by a number of others. 
 The brave unknown advanced upon the plank ; but just as he 
 was ready to seize upon the paper, he received a musket shot 
 and fell into the ditch. He was followed by a young man of 
 he name of Maillard, son of an officer of the chatelet, who 
 was fortunate enough to reach the paper, the contents of which 
 were, " We have twenty thousand pounds weight of gunpow- 
 der, and will blow up the garrison and all its environs, if you 
 do not accept the capitulation." M. Elie, an officer ol the 
 15 
 
204 HISTORICAL CABINET 
 
 oueen's regiment, who was invested with a kind of spontane- 
 ous authority, was for agreeing to terms ; but the people indig- 
 nantly rejected the very word capitulation, and immediately 
 drew up to the spot three pieces of artillery. 
 
 The enemy now perceiving that the great bridge was going 
 to be attacked, let down the small draw-bridge, which was to the 
 eft of the entrance into the fortress. Messrs. Elie, Hulin, Mail- 
 ed, Reole, Humbert, Tournay, and some others, leaped in- 
 stantly on the bridge, and, securing the bolts, proceeded to the 
 door. In the mean time, the French guards, preserving their 
 habitual coolness and discipline, formed a column on the other 
 side of the bridge, to prevent the citizens from rushing upon it 
 in too great numbers. An invalid came to open the gate be- 
 hind the draw-bridge, and asked the invaders what they wanted. 
 "The surrender of the Bastile," they cried, and he permitted 
 them to enter. The conquerors immediately lowered the great 
 bridge and the multitude entered without resistance ; the inva- 
 lids were ranged on the right, and the Swiss on the left hand, 
 with their arms piled against the wall. They took off their 
 hats, clapped their hands, and cried out, " Bravo /" as the be- 
 siegers entered. The first moments of this meeting passed in 
 peace and reconciliation : but some soldiers on the platforms, 
 ignorant of the surrender, unhappily fired upon the people, who, 
 suspecting a second act of treachery, fell upon the invalids, two 
 of whom, (the unfortunate Beguard, who had prevented the 
 governor from blowing up the Bastile, and another equally in- 
 nocent,) were dragged to the Place de Greve, and hanged.* 
 
 The sieurs Maillard, Cholat, Arne, and some others, dispute 
 the honor of having first seized M. de Launay. He was not 
 in a uniform, but in a plain gray frock : he had a cane in his 
 hand, and would have killed himself with the sword that it 
 contained, but the grenadier Arne wrested it out of his hand. 
 He was escorted by Messrs. Hulin, Arne, Legris, Elie, and 
 some others, and every effort was exerted by these patriots, to 
 save his life, but in vain : they had scarcely arrived at the Ho- 
 tel de Ville, before his defenders were overpowered, and even 
 wounded by the enraged populace, and he fell under a thousand 
 
 . * This was the first instance of that rash and sanguinary spirit, which has 
 since disgraced the French nation in the eyes of all Europe. It is a singular 
 fact, that the French have as yet no clear ideas of the administration of jus- 
 tice. Some time previous to the Revolution, an American gentleman, who 
 resided at Paris in a puhlic capacity, observing the rising spirit of liberty 
 among the people, remarked, " that they would obtain every blessing of a 
 free government, but the trial by jury ; for that," added he, "they are not 
 prepared." 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 205 
 
 wounds. M. de Losme Salbrai, his major, a gentleman distin- 
 guished for his virtues and his humanity, was also the. victim 
 of the popular fury. The Marquis de Pelleport, who had been 
 five years in the Bastile, and during that time had been treated 
 by him with particular kindness, interposed to save him at the 
 risk of his life, but was struck down by a hatchet, and M. de 
 Losme was instantly put to death. The heads of the governor 
 and the major were struck off, and carried on pikes through 
 the streets of the city. The rage of the populace would not have 
 ended here — the invalids who defended the fortress would all 
 have been sacrificed, had not the humanity of the French guard* 
 interposed, and insisted on their pardon. 
 
 The keys of the Bastile were carried to M. Brissot deWar- 
 ville, who had been a few years before an inhabitant of these 
 caverns of despotism ; and a guard of three thousand men was 
 appointed over the fortress till the council at the Hotel de Ville 
 should decree its demolition. In the intoxication of success, 
 the prisoners were forgotten, and as the keys had been carried 
 to Paris, the dungeons were forced open ; seven prisoners only 
 were found, three of whom had lost their reason, having been 
 detained there as state prisoners from the reign of Louis XV. 
 
 Thus, by the irresistible enthusiasm of liberty, in a few hours, 
 was reduced that fortress which mercenary armies had consi- 
 dered as impregnable, and which had been in vain besieged by 
 the force of the great Conde for upwards of three weeks. 
 
 The fate of M. de Launay involved that of M. de Flesselles, 
 the prevot des marchands. He had long been suspected of a 
 design to betray the people ; and all his actions, indeed, appa- 
 rently tended to that point. In the pocket of M. de Launay a 
 letter from him was said to have been discovered, which con- 
 tained these remarkable words, " I will amuse the Parisians 
 with cockades and promises. Keep your station till the even- 
 ing, you shall then have a reinforcement." At the sight of 
 this letter, the unfortunate de Flesselles was struck dumb. A 
 voice was heard in the hall — " Begone, M. de Flesselles, you are 
 a traitor." " I see," said he, " gentlemen, that I am not agree- 
 able to you, I shall retire." He hastened down the stairs ; but 
 as he crossed the Greve, accompanied by a number of persons 
 to defend him, a young man, who had waited an opportunity, 
 shot him with a pistol. His head was cut off, placed on a pike, 
 and carried through the streets, along with that of M. de Launay. 
 
 A tumultuous night succeeded this wonderful day ; and the 
 songs of joy and triumph which had celebrated the victory of 
 the people, were converted into confused murmurs, expressive 
 
 18 
 
206 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 only of anxiety and alarm. A report was spread that the troops 
 were about to enter the city at the Barrier d'Enfer : thither the 
 citizens crowded, under the conduct of the French guards, and 
 preceded by a train of artillery ; the body of troops, however 
 that appeared in that quarter, were dispersed by a single volley. 
 The alarm bells were then sounded ; barricadoes were formed 
 at the barriers ; deep holes were dug in different parts, to pre- 
 vent the approach of the cavalry ; the tops of the nouses were 
 manned ; a general illumination was ordered ; and the silence 
 of the night was interrupted by discharges of artillery, and by 
 the warning voice of the patroles, " Citizens, do not go to bed* 
 take care of your lights ; we must see clearly this night." 
 
 The first news of the taking of the Bastile was regarded 
 by the court as an imposture of the popular party : it was, how- 
 ever, at length irresistibly confirmed. The first resolves of the 
 ministry are said to have been desperate, and orders were is- 
 sued to the commanders, to push the projected movements with 
 all possible vigor. In the dead of the night, Marshal Broglio 
 is said to have arrived to inform them that it was impossible to 
 obey the mandate he had received, of investing the hall of the 
 national assembly with a train of artillery, as the soldiers would 
 not comply with his orders. " Press, then, the siege of Paris," 
 was the answer. The general replied he could not depend on 
 the army for the execution of that project. 
 
 The king was the only person in the place, who was kept 
 totally ignorant of these transactions. The Duke de Liancourt, 
 a distinguished patriot, who was then master of the wardrobe, 
 prevented the bloodshed which was apprehended : he forced 
 his way in the middle of the night into the king's apartment, 
 informed him of every circumstance, and announced to the 
 Count d' Artois that a price was set upon his head. The intel- 
 ligence of the duke was supported by the authority of Monsieur, 
 who accompanied him, and the king was immediately convin- 
 ced that he had been deceived by evil counsels. Early the next 
 morning the monarch appeared in the assembly, but without the 
 pomp and parade of despotism. His address was affectionate 
 •aim conciliatory. He lamented the disturbances at Paris ; dis- 
 avowed all consciousness of any meditated attack on the persons 
 of the deputies ; and addtd that, he had issued orders for the 
 immediate removal of the troops from the vicinity of the metro- 
 polis. It is impossible to express the feelings of the assembly 
 on this affecting occasion. The tear of sympathy started into 
 almost every eye. An expressive silence first pervaded the as 
 eembly, which presently was succeeded by a burst of applause 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 20? 
 
 ami acclamation. The king rose to return to the palace ; and 
 the deputies, by a sudden impulse formed a train of loyalty, in 
 which all distinctions of orders was forgotten, and accompanied 
 him to the royal apartments. The joy became general through- 
 out Versailles ; the people flocked to the palace, where the 
 queen, with the dauphin m her arms, showed herself from a 
 balcony. The music in the mean time played the pathetic air, 
 Oil peut-071 etre mieux quHau sien de sa famille, which was only 
 interrupted by shouts of loyalty, and acclamations of joy. On 
 their return to the hall, the assembly appointed a deputation to 
 convey this happy intelligence to the metropolis. 
 
 EXECUTION OF LOUIS XVI. 
 
 The discussion was fatally closed on the 19th of January. 
 After a sitting of near thirty-four hours, the punishment of death 
 was voted by a small majority of the convention ; and several 
 of them differing in opinion from the rest respecting the time 
 when it should be inflicted, some contending that it should not 
 De put in execution till after the end of the war, while other 
 proposed to take the sense of the people by referring the sen- 
 tence to the primary assemblies. The conclusion of this un- 
 happy business is too well known to require a minuter detail. 
 It was, however, on the best grounds, believed, that the majority 
 of the convention were compelled to this unjust measure by the 
 apprehension of becoming victims to popular fury, since a for- 
 midable mob was collected, who openly threatened, by name, a 
 considerable number of the deputies, and declared their intention 
 to murder them, if they refused to vote for the death of the king. 
 Every circumstance, indeed, warrants us in asserting that this 
 decision was more the effect of factious fury than of temperate 
 deliberation ; and that the cause of liberty has certainly been 
 impeded by the unprincipled violence of its pretended votaries. 
 
 The president having announced that he was about to declare 
 the result of their long and important deliberations, a profound 
 and awful silence ensued, while he declared, that out of seven 
 hundred and twenty-one votes, three hundred and sixty-six were 
 for death ; three hundred and nineteen for imprisonment during 
 the war ; two for perpetual imprisonment ; eight for a suspension 
 of the execution of death till after the expulsion of the Bour- 
 bons ; twenty-three were for not putting him to death, unless 
 the French territory should be invaded by some foreign power ; 
 
208 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 and one was for death, but with commutation of punishment 
 The president concluded in a lower and more solemn tone, and, 
 taking off his hat, pronounced, " In consequence of this, I de- 
 clare, that the punishment decreed by the national convention, 
 against Louis Capet, is deathP The Spanish court, through 
 the medium of its minister, made a becoming application to the 
 assembly, previous to the passing of the sentence, in behalf of 
 the deposed sovereign ; but the reading of the letter was re- 
 jected with equal insolence and imprudence. At this period 
 of the sitting, the king's three counsellors were admitted to 
 the bar, and one of them, M. Deseze, addressed the convention; 
 " Citizens, representatives, the law of the nation and your de- 
 crees have intrusted to us the sacred functions of the defense of 
 Louis. We come, with regret, to present to you the last act of 
 our function. Louis has given to us his express charge to read 
 to you a letter, signed with his own hand, of which the following 
 is a copy : 
 
 Letter from Louis. 
 
 " I owe it to my own honor, I owe it to my family, not to sub- 
 scribe to a sentence which declares me guilty of a crime of 
 which I cannot accuse myself. In consequence, I appeal to the 
 nation from the sentence of its representatives ; and I commit, 
 by these presents, to the fidelity of my defenders, to make known 
 to \he national convention this appeal, by all the means in their 
 r, and to demand, that mention of it be made in the mi- 
 n^o of their sitting. [Signed] Louis." 
 
 M. Deseze then solemnly invoked the assembly, in the name 
 of his colleagues, to consider by what a small majority the pun- 
 ishment of death was pronounced against the dethroned mon- 
 arch. " Do not afflict France," added this eloquent advocate, 
 " by a judgment that will appear terrible to her, when five voices 
 only were presumed sufficient to carry it." He appealed to eter- 
 nal justice, and sacred humanity, to induce the convention to re- 
 fer their sentence to the tribunal of the people. " You have 
 either forgotten or destroyed," said the celebrated M. Tronchit, 
 "the lenity which the law allows to criminals, of requiring at 
 least two-thirds of the voices to constitute a definitive judgment." 
 
 A melancholy gloom and awful silence superseded the native 
 gaiety of the French capital, during the last days of the life of 
 the deplored Louis, as if some future calamity was presaged to 
 that irritable and factious city ; while bodies of armed men 
 patroled the metropolis, the suppressed sighs and the : estramea 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 209 
 
 lamentations announced to the thinking world, that a fair ap- 
 peal to the people would have granted life at least to him, who 
 had suffered the mortification of descending from the station of 
 an exalted sovereign to that of a degraded citizen. 
 
 After passing Sunday in preparations for his approaching 
 change, and taking an eternal and agonizing farewell of his 
 wife and family, the unfortunate Louis, as the clocks of Paris 
 sounded eight on Monday morning, was summoned to his fate. 
 The monarch ascended the scaffold with heroic fortitude, with a 
 firm step, and a countenance void of dismay ; and being pre- 
 vented from addressing the people, he was sent before the tri- 
 bunal of the Omnipotent, to claim, and probably to receive, that 
 justice which his earthly judges had denied him. 
 
 The following account of the last moments of this unfortunate 
 monarch is truly interesting. It is extracted from the letters ol 
 an English lady, at that time in Paris. " The French king re- 
 ceived the intelligence of his approaching fata without dismay. 
 He displayed far more firmness upon the scaffold than he had 
 done upon the throne, and atoned for the weakness and incon- 
 sistency of his conduct in life, by the calmness and fortitude of 
 his behavior in death. The evening before his execution, his 
 family, from whom he had been separated since the commence- 
 ment of his trial, were conducted to the tower of the temple, and 
 allowed the sad indulgence of a last interview, unmolested 
 by the presence of his guards. Alas ! when imagination pic- 
 tured the anguish of such an interview, it was not necessary 
 to look back upon the former elevation of the sufferer, in order 
 to pity the gloomy transition in his fate ! It was not necessary 
 to recollect, that he who was the following' morning to suffer 
 death upon the scaffold, was once the first monarch of Europe, 
 and would be led to execution through the streets of his own 
 capital ! It was enough to consider this unfortunate person as 
 a man, a husband, a father ! Ah, surely amidst the agonies of 
 final separation from those to whom we are bound by the strong- 
 est ties of nature and affection ! surely, when we cling to those 
 we love, in the unutterable pang of a last embrace — in such 
 moments the monarch must forget his crown, and the regrets of 
 disappointed ambition must be unfelt amidst the anguish which 
 overwhelms the broken heart. That anguish was not confined 
 20 the bosom of the king, the queen, and his sister. The prin- 
 cess, his daughter, had attained that age when perhaps the soul 
 is most susceptible of strong impressions, and its sensibility most 
 exquisite. Even the young prince, who is only in his ninth 
 year, caught the infectious sorrow, and, while his eyes were 
 
 18* 
 
210 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 bathed in tears, cried sobbing to Santerre, ' Ah, lasse.z-moi con- 
 rir les rues ! firai aux districts — firai a toutes les sections. 
 dem,ander grace pour m.on papa P* 
 
 " The king had sufficient firmness to avoid seeing his family 
 on the morning of his execution. He desired the queen might 
 be told that he was unable to bear the sight of her and his 
 children in those last moments. He took a ring off his finger, 
 which contained some of his own hair, of the queen's, and of 
 his two children, and desired it might be given to tjie queen. 
 He called the municipal officers around him, and told them it 
 was his dying request, that Clery, his valet de chambre, might 
 remain with his son. He then said to Santerre, 'Marchons,'f 
 and after crossing, with a hurried pace, the inner court of the 
 temple, he got in the mayor's carriage, which was in waiting, 
 and was attended by his confessor. 
 
 " The calmness which Louis XVI. displayed on this great 
 trial of human fortitude, is attributed not only to the support 
 his mind received from religious faith, but also to the hope 
 which it is said he cherished, even till his last moments, that 
 the people, whom he meant to address from the scaffold, would 
 demand that his life might be spared. And his confessor, from 
 motives of compassion, had encouraged him in this hope. 
 After ascending the scaffold with a firm step, twice the unhap- 
 py monarch attempted to speak, and twice Santerre prevented 
 him from being heard by ordering the drums to beat immedi- 
 ately. Alas ! had he been permitted to speak, poor was his 
 chance of exciting commiseration ! Those who pitied his ca- 
 lamities had carefully shunned that fatal spot ; and those who 
 most immediately surrounded him, only waited till the stroke 
 was given, in order to dip their pikes and their handkerchiefs 
 in his blood ! 
 
 11 Two persons who were on the scaffold, assert, that the un« 
 happy monarch, finding the hope he had cherished, of awaken- 
 ing the compassion of the people, frustrated by the impossibili- 
 ty of his being heard, as a last resource, declared that he had 
 secrets to reveal, of importance to the safety of the state, and 
 desired he might be led to the national convention. Some of 
 the guards, who heard this declaration, cried, ■ Yes, let him go 
 to the convention!' Others said ' No.' Had the king been 
 conducted to the convention, it is easy to imagine the effect 
 which would have been produced on the minds of the people, 
 
 * ' Oh ! let me run through the streets— I will go to the districts— I will go 
 lo all the sections, and beg for my papa !' 
 t ' Let us go.' 
 
Execution of Louis XVI.— Page 211. 
 
 Arrest of Charlotte Corday.— Page 212. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 211 
 
 by the sight of their former monarch led through the streets 
 of Paris, with his hands bound, his neck bare, his hail already 
 cut off at the foot of the scaffold, in preparation for the fatal 
 stroke, with no other covering than his shirt. At that sight, 
 the enraged populace would have melted into tenderness, and 
 the Parisian women, among whom were numbers who passed 
 the day in tears of unavailing regret, would have rushed be- 
 tween the monarch and his guards, and have attempted his res- 
 cue even with the risk of life. Santerrewho foresaw these con- 
 sequences, who perceived the danger of this rising dispute 
 among the guards, called to the executioner to do his office. 
 Then it was, that despair siezed upon the mind of the unfortu- 
 nate monarch; his countenance assumed a look of horror; 
 twice in agony he repeated, ' Jesuis perdu ! Jesuis perdu ! * His 
 confessor, mean time, called to him from the foot of the scaffold, 
 1 Louis, fils de St. Louis, montez au del! 1 ] and in one moment 
 he was delivered from the evils of mortality. 
 
 " The executioner held up the bleeding head, and the guards 
 cried ' Vive la Republique !' Some dipped their handkerchiefs 
 in the blood ; but the greater number, chilled with horror at 
 what had passed, desired the commandant would lead them in- 
 stantly from the spot. The hair was sold in separate tresses, 
 at the foot of the scaffold ; and as if every incident of this tra- 
 gedy had been intended to display the strange vicissitude of 
 human fortune, as if every scene were meant 'to point a mo- 
 ral,' the body was conveyed in a cart to the parish church of 
 St. Madelaine, and laid among the bodies of those who had 
 been crushed to death on the Place de Louis XV., when Louis 
 XVI. was married, and of those who had fallen before the cha- 
 teau of the Thuilleries on the 10th of August. 
 
 " The grave was filled with quick lime, and a guard placed 
 over it till the corpse was consumed." 
 
 CHARLOTTE CORDAY. 
 
 Mary Anne Charlotte D'Armans Corday was born of 
 respectable parents at St. Saturnin, in Normandy. She was 
 brought up at Caen, where her beauty and accomplishments 
 were seen and admired by Belsunce, the major of a regiment 
 
 * 'I am undone! I am undone!' 
 
 t ' Son of St. Lcuis. ascend to heaven J 
 
212 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 quartered in the town. The death of this worthy favorite, who 
 was murdered by some assassins, excited the vengeance of th° 
 youthful heroine, and when she saw her lover branded with the 
 name of conspirator, in a paper published by Marat, she hasten- 
 ed to Paris, determined to sacrifice to her resentment the man 
 who had so shamefully abused the object of her affections, and 
 had defended the condemnation of the deputies of merit and vir- 
 tue in the convention. 
 
 She arrived in Paris on the 11th July, 1793. On the 12th 
 she addressed a note to her intended victim, professing to have 
 some intelligence to communicate to him, respecting those of the 
 proscribed deputies who had made their escape and assembled 
 in the city she had come from, which would interest him as a 
 lover of his country, and soliciting to be admitted to his presence. 
 
 Marat was at this time indisposed, and for the last three days 
 had not appeared in the convention. On the 13th, in the earlier 
 part of the day, she presented herself at the door of his house, 
 but was refused admittance. Leaving a second note, she retired, 
 and came back between seven and eight o'clock in the evening, 
 in a carriage ; when, after some opposition from the attendants, 
 she was called in by order of Marat himself, whose attention had 
 been attracted by the noise. She found the deputy in the bath. 
 Having entered into conversation with him, she had discoursed 
 for some minutes on the proceedings of the refugees in Nor- 
 mandy, when Marat remarked that in a few days he would have 
 every man of them guillotined. The words were no sooner 
 uttered, than, drawing forth a long knife from under her robe, 
 the female Brutus plunged it up to the haft in the body of him 
 whom she believed to be the chief enemy and curse of her 
 country. 
 
 The cries of the wounded man instantly brought his attend- 
 ants into the apartment ; and his murderess seeing all chance 
 of escape at an end, resigned herself into their hands, and was 
 forthwith conducted to the prison of the Abbaye, amidst the 
 shouts and execrations of a mob, consisting in great part of the 
 vilest class of her own sex, who had assembled around the house 
 on the rumor of what had taken place. Marat died in a few 
 hours. Four members of the Committee of Police, and as many 
 of that of General Security, immediately proceeded to interro- 
 gate Charlotte Corday respecting the crime she had committed. 
 Her answers to some of the questions put to her by these per- 
 sons, depict forcibly the energetic and resolute character of the 
 woman. She at once admitted that it was she who had slain 
 Marat. Being asked what induced her to commit that assassi* 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 213 
 
 nation, * His crimes," she boldly replied. " Was it a priest who 
 had taken the oaths to the constitution," they asked her, " or one 
 who had not, to whom you went to make confession at Caen.'"' 
 " I went," she answered, " neither ,to one nor the other." At 
 another question, raising her voice with all her force, " Yes," 
 she exclaimed, " I have slain one man to save a hundred thou- 
 sand, a wretch to preserve those who are innocent, a ferocious 
 beast to give repose to my country ; I was a republican before 
 the revolution, and I never wanted energy." " What do you 
 understand by energy ?" asked her examiners. " The sentiment," 
 she replied, "by which those are animated, who, casting from 
 them all thought of their interest as individuals, know how to 
 offer themselves up as sacrifices for their country." 
 
 Of course, after such an act as she had committed, her fate 
 was sealed. She appeared for the first time before the revolu- 
 tionary tribunal, on the 16th; when nothing could exceed the 
 self-possession of her demeanor, and the lofty indifference with 
 which she regarded the violent death to which she was so soon 
 to be surrendered. This unfortunate woman, notwithstanding 
 her exaggerated patriotism, appears to have possessed a nature 
 in many respects nobly endowed, and even a heart susceptible 
 of the tenderest affections. In a letter which she wrote from her 
 prison to Barbaroux, whom she had known at Caen, she says, 
 " I have never hated but one being on earth, and him, with what 
 intensity I have sufficiently shown ; but there are a thousand 
 whom I love still more than I hated him." " A lively imagina- 
 tion," she goes on, " and a feeling heart, promise but a stormy 
 life ; I beseech those who might regret me, to consider this, and 
 they will rejoice to know that I am enjoying repose in the Ely- 
 sian fields, with Brutus and others of the ancients." She ad- 
 dressed a short note, on the day before her execution, to her 
 father, in which, after having asked his forgiveness for having 
 disposed of her life without his permission, she adds, " I pray 
 you to forget me, or rather to rejoice in my fate ; the cause at 
 least, in which I perish, is a noble one. I embrace my sisteis. 
 whom I love with my whole heart, as likewise all my relations. 
 Never forget the verse of Corneille : 
 
 'Le crime fait la honte, et non pas l'echafaud.'"* 
 
 The heroine, when her last hour was come, shrunk from her 
 fate no more than she had previously done. Before setting out 
 for the place of execution, she asked, with a smile of scorn, 
 
 *The crime, and not the scaffold, makes the shame. 
 
214 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 whether the body of Marat was to be deposited in the pantheon. 
 Such was the imposing- dignity of her demeanor, as she passed 
 along on her way, that even the abandoned rabble who were 
 wont to flock around the guillotine, and disturb with their fero- 
 cious howls the last moments of its victims, were on this occasion 
 awed into comparative silence; and some of the more respecta- 
 ble spectators took off their hats at her approach, while murmurs 
 of applause and sympathy broke from others, which all theii 
 fears for themselves could not restrain. She mounted the scaf- 
 fold with a firm step. When the executioner proceeded to tie 
 her hands, a part of the ceremony for which she was unprepared 
 she at first manifested a disposition to resist the attempt, imagin- 
 ing that some insult was intended her ; but on the matter beine 
 explained, she smiled at her mistake, and offered no further op- 
 position. When she had laid her head on the block, the execu- 
 tioner removed a handkerchief that covered her neck and shoul- 
 ders ; and on this, those who stood around her remarked that a 
 quick instinct of modesty instantly suffused her cheeks with a deep 
 blush. The mounted blood still reddened her visage when the 
 head, after being separated from the body, was held up by the 
 executioner to the view of the multitude. 
 
 NARRATIVE, BY ABBE MORELLET, DURING THE FRENCH 
 REVOLUTION. 
 
 Dear Sir, — The celebrated and respectable Abbe Morellet, 
 who is now in his 88th year, and who is considered as the fa- 
 ther of the French Literati, gave Miss Edgewwth, when we 
 were at Paris, in 1802, the inclosed narrative, written by him. 
 
 It contains a lively picture of friendship and courage in an 
 individual, and a just tribute to the force of religion upon the 
 human mind. When the people of Paris proclaimed Atheism, 
 they lost all sense of morality, and thirsted like savages for 
 human blood. The few who remained faithful to the religion 
 of their country, met death with fortitude and resignation. 
 
 I send you a translation of Monsieur Morellet's narrative, to 
 keep alive in the minds of your readers a continual abhorrence 
 of the crimes which result from popular frenzy, when the 
 obligations of law and religion have been thrown off by the 
 great mass of the people. R. L. E. 
 
 Edgeworthstown, January 10, 1834. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 215 
 
 To preserve the recollection of traits, which are an honor to 
 mankind, and which happened in the most calamitous, and I 
 may say ferocious times, I have collected the following- facts, 
 which took place at Paris, in the beginning of September, 1792. 
 
 Towards the end of August, 1792, M. l'Abbe G., formerly 
 Grande Vicaire de B., was at Paris, suffering with those unfor- 
 tunate priests who would not take the oath of the civil consti- 
 tution of the clergy, who were proscribed under the unjust ap- 
 pellation of refractory priests, that is, rebellious to the law; 
 though they had violated no law, since in refusing to take the 
 oath, they had only made use of the liberty of religious opinion 
 established by the constitution itself. In thus sacrificing their 
 fortunes to their religion, they made themselves respectable, 
 even to those who consider religion a prejudice. 
 
 After the 10th of August, the Commune Provisoire, com- 
 posed at first only of deputies from twenty-two or twenty-three 
 sections of Paris, having got possession of all the power in the 
 capital, and having taken from the ancient municipality its pri- 
 vate authority, conceived, in their assemblies held without form 
 or rule, the atrocious designs which they afterwards executed, 
 and which Carra, Marat, Robespierre, Osselin, &c, boldly 
 avowed in the Commune, in the Society of Jacobins, and even 
 in the tribune of the National Convention. 
 
 One of the first most powerful means taken by this new Com- 
 mune, for the execution of their plans, was the establishment 
 of the Domiciliary, and nocturnal visits, under the pretense of 
 collecting arms for the troops going to the frontiers^ and as they 
 said, to discover ill-intentioned persons ; but their real design 
 was to pursue those who had defended the law on the 10th of 
 August. They proscribed ministers, the unsworn clergy, and 
 in short all those whom they called enemies to the revolution, 
 to which they said they must still sacrifice many victims. 
 
 By the order of this Commune the gates of Paris were shut 
 with unexampled severity, the villages and municipalities for 
 many miles distant, were commanded to stop and send back 
 all those who had escaped, which order was executed with the 
 greatest rigor. Those who resisted this persecution, by con- 
 cealment, were seized in the space of some nights, and impri- 
 soned in the Abbaye, the Co ncier gerie la force, the Bicetre, the 
 Salpetriere, the St. Pelagic, and these prisons not being suffi- 
 cient, the ecclesiastics, to the number of 300, were shut up in 
 the church Des Cannes in the Seminaire de St. Finnin, in the 
 Mayoralty, &c 
 
 M. l'Abbe G remained till the end of August, without hav 
 
216 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 ing been discovered, though perhaps he was pursued with mora 
 eagerness than the others, because of his intimacy with many 
 people of rank, bishops and ecclesiastics, remaining at Paris. 
 At last, however, he was found in the middle of the night, in 
 an empty room of a house he had taken from an absent friend, 
 and was taken to his section, and from thence to the Mayoral- 
 ty, formerly the Hotel of the first President. 
 
 When he was brought before a sort of tribunal which served 
 to distribute the prisoners among their different prisons ; he 
 asked, how, under a government which professed to have es- 
 tablished liberty, a citizen domiciliated in his own house, could 
 be arrested, without having been denunciated, without a man- 
 date, without an order. They answered — "Are you not a 
 priest ?" " Yes" said he, " Well" replied they, " we will de- 
 tain you." 
 
 On the night of his sentence, he was conducted into a garret, 
 in the Mayoralty, now converted into a prison, where there 
 were sixty others, most of whom were ecclesiastics, the rest 
 loyalists, citizens of Paris, literary people, distributors of News- 
 papers, &c. 
 
 Here the scene of action opened for a young man who dis- 
 played great courage and presence of mind, and all the hero- 
 ism of gratitude and friendship. 
 
 M. l'Abbe G. had done some service to this young man, 
 whose name was Dreux ; he had given him some assistance in 
 his education, and had obtained for him a place in one of the 
 offices of the municipality. 
 
 Dreux had assisted the Abbe G. to conceal himself. He had 
 lodged some days with him, when he showed him the most 
 constant attention. After the Abbe G.'s imprisonment, his most 
 earnest wish was that Dreux should be acquainted with his 
 misfortune. Dreux' s thoughts were bent on finding some means 
 to restore to him his liberty. 
 
 The design of the massacre of the prisoners had been for 
 some weeks publicly announced. The people were possessed 
 with the greatest indignation against what they called the de 
 lays of justice, which were said to be connected with the de- 
 signs of the aristocracy. Criminals, and those who were ac- 
 cused of contriving a counter revolution, were mentioned as 
 the objects of their fury ; but it was easy to see that when once 
 the people should break into the prisons, the nobility, the ex- 
 ministers, the priests, the aristocrats, and even the moderate de- 
 mocrats and constitutionalists, would not escape, even though 
 the robbers and murderers, their avowed objects, might be spared. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 217 
 
 Dreux, though he had great strength of mind, was but ot 
 small stature, and very robust. After having paid the Abbe G. 
 the first attentions he required, he turned all his thoughts, to 
 discover the means by which he could snatch his friend from 
 the danger with which the prisoners were menaced. 
 
 This undertaking required that he should solicit all those in 
 power ; his employment in his office did not allow him suffi- 
 cient time ; he therefore told the principal clerk, that it wouia 
 be impossible for some days to be as assiduous as usual, and 
 begged that he would not object to his being absent some times, 
 that he might be of some assistance to a friend and a benefac- 
 tor. The clerk, of course, was but little touched by this rea- 
 son ; he answered dryly that Dreux' s first duty was to attend to 
 the business of his office, that he would allow him no indul- 
 gence, and that he would give his place to another, if the busi- 
 ness was interrupted. " But if I ivas sick, 11 said the young 
 man, " you would not take away my place ; would not you find 
 some means of doing without me for a few days ; I beg you to 
 do that which you would do if that was the case." The clerk 
 was still inexorable. "Then sir" said Dreux, "you may give 
 my place to some other, for to preserve it I will never do any 
 thing unfriendly or ungrateful" The clerk had the cruelty to 
 take him at his word, and he was soon without home, without 
 employment, but with the power of assisting his benefactor ; a 
 wonderful sacrifice, when one considers, that at the moment 
 when Dreux made it, he had no certainty of success in this 
 rash enterprise. 
 
 His first step was to inform the Abbe's friends of his danger, 
 particularly Madame Asseline, sister to the Bishop of Bologne, 
 who immediately tried to obtain his liberty from the reigning 
 power, Petion, Tanchet, Manuel, &c, and from that commune 
 exercising a power so much more despotic, than that with which 
 they had so long reproached the police of Paris, indeed more 
 tyrannical than that of Tiberius or Nero. 
 
 All this time the Abbe G. and his companions felt all the 
 misery of the place in which they were confined, most of them 
 slept on straw, and were ill fed, not having the means of paying 
 for better food. 
 
 Amongst the prisoners, the ecclesiastics, who formed their 
 greatest number, kept at one end of the garret, which served as 
 their prison, and united by the same profession and the same 
 opinions, persuaded that they suffered in a good cause, they 
 showed much courage and resignation. One of the prison- 
 ers was Chanois, a man of letters, editor of some periodical 
 16 19 
 
218 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 works, amongst others the Moderator, a paper looked uj-on as 
 anti-revolutionary, though it was moderate, but moderation 
 even was criminal in the eyes of those men, who pretended to 
 establish all kinds of liberty, and who knew no bounds to their 
 tyranny of the press. 
 
 Chanois was very melancholy ; after some days the Abbe G. 
 entered into conversation with him. Chanois had observed 
 with some surprise, the calmness and tranquillity of the priests, 
 which was so strongly in contrast with the appearance of the 
 other prisoners. He communicated this remark to the Abbe G. 
 who said that this was the natural effect of religion, which was 
 even a greater consolation than philosophy. Chanois assured 
 him that he was not one of those philosophers who would de- 
 stroy the foundation of all morality, and all hope of happiness 
 hereafter, by disbelief in the existence of a Supreme Being, an 
 avenger of crimes, and a rernunerator of virtue. The Abbe G. 
 undertook to prove to him that this was not enough, that men 
 wanted a revealed religion to determine the ideas suggested by 
 reason, and to give more consistency to the moral system, by 
 uniting morals with religion. In short, that this was the only 
 doctrine which could support men under great calamities, and 
 by which they could be taught to look forward to death with- 
 out horror. This explanation, and these reasons so satisfied 
 Chanois, that he remained consoled and calm till the last 
 moment. 
 
 The prisoners continued in profound ignorance of their last 
 destination till the 1st September. That night the Abbe G. ana 
 those who had been in the same room with him, were carried 
 to the Abbaye St. Germain ; about thirty other prisoners were 
 left till the next day. 
 
 The circumstance of the removal of the prisoners, from the 
 Mayoralty to the Abbaye, the day before the massacre, and 
 even on the very day on which it began, is very remarkable, as 
 An incontestable proof that those in power must not only have 
 formed, but reflected on the design of permitting the people to 
 massacre all those who had been arrested. The murders were 
 10 begin on Sunday — and as they dared not stain the Mayoralty 
 with their crimes, the victims were sent to the place of execu- 
 tion the evening before. The thirty who had remained in the 
 Mayoralty were taken only a few hours before the massacre 
 began. The Marsellois who conducted them, knew what was 
 to happen to them that night — they informed the prisoners of 
 the fate that awaited them, and showed them to the people as 
 aheady devoted. In short they brought them to an immediate 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 219 
 
 death, for the people having already surrounded the Abhaye, 
 they were murdered as they descended from the carriages in 
 which they had been brought, before they entered the prison, 
 with the exception of one man, the Abbe Sicard, that benefactor 
 of mankind, the celebrated institutor of the school for the deaf 
 and dumb ; he was hid in the coach by four others who were 
 dead ; the murderers did not perceive him, and he was saved 
 by a miracle, and by the courage of a clock-maker of the name 
 of Mouet. 
 
 The Abbe G.'s friends did not forget his danger ; but though 
 the design of the massacre of the prisoners was known nearly 
 a month beforehand, it was scarcely possible to believe that it 
 could be executed with such celerity — besides, in the agitated 
 state of Paris, there was great difficulty in obtaining audience 
 of any public man ; so that notwithstanding all their efforts, 
 Sunday morning arrived before either Dreux or Madame Asse- 
 line could do any thing. At this moment the situation of the 
 prisoners became most critical. 
 
 Dreux having seen the Abbe G. at the Mayoralty on Satur- 
 day, returned there on Sunday, and not finding him there hast- 
 ened to the Abbaye, where he succeeded in learning in what 
 room he was confined; from thence he went to Madam Asse- 
 line, and described the Abbe G.'s danger as so urgent, that she 
 immediately went to Tanchet, whom she had already solicited 
 m vain, but who had appeared favorable to the Abbe G. with 
 whom he had been Grand Vicaire de Bourges. 
 
 As she passed the post, the pont neuf, the alarm gun sounded, 
 and the people crowded together ; she was terrified, and turned 
 back ; this, perhaps, was a fortunate accident for her friend, for 
 we have since heard, that she would not have found the Abbe 
 Tanchet, and this first step having failed, they probably would 
 have given up all hope of ever finding him, and that scheme 
 would have failed, which, after many difficulties, they accom- 
 plished. Madam Asseline set on a new scent, about two 
 o'clock, for the Abbe Tanchet, rue de Chabanois. She found 
 him, renewed her solicitations, conjured him by every thing 
 that could touch him ; but he alone could do nothing, particu- 
 larly at the present critical moment. An order from M. Manuel 
 was the only thing which could procure the release of the 
 Abbe G. But how was Manuel to be found in the general 
 commotion of Paris. There was no time to be lost — notwith- 
 standing the difficulties and the improbability of success, Dreux 
 and Madame Asseline were setting out to look for him, when 
 from the Abbe Tanchet's window, they saw him at dinner, in 
 
220 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 the opposite house (a good time for the magistrate of the people 
 to take his ease.) Madame Asseline hegged the Abbe Tanchet 
 to send for him; he did ; Manuel resisted for a long time their 
 pressing entreaties : at last, taking a pen, he wrote a note in 
 nearly these words : 
 
 "Concierge de l'Abbaye, 
 " Release your prisoner, called Abbe G. who has not taken 
 the oath, but who was not obliged to do so, as he had no public 
 employment. This must be executed by the Commissary of 
 the Section des Cordeliers. " P. Manuel." 
 
 Madame Asseline thought that as Manuel gave her this pa- 
 per, he appeared as if he imagined it would be of no service, 
 that there would be neither time nor opportunity to make use 
 of it, and he looked with pity and contempt on the confidence 
 she put in it. This, however, neither discouraged her nor 
 Dreux, to whom she brought the order. He ran in all haste 
 to the Section des* Cordeliers, (the Abbe G.'s section,) that the 
 Commissary might execute it. The Committee of the section 
 was assembled when he arrived ; they made a thousand diffi- 
 culties, they examined the order minutely, said that the Abbe 
 G. was suspected of aristocracy, that he had not mounted guard 
 in person. The young man insisted, explained to them the 
 value of the order, and at last succeeded in getting the order 
 executed, and obliged some of the members to sign it, which 
 they did, maliciously inserting in the paper that the Abbe G. 
 had not mounted guard — this was enough to make the order 
 useless. But after all these difficulties had been surmounted, 
 it was necessary for him to find a Commissary of the Abbaye : 
 not one of these zealous loyalists would endanger their own 
 safety ; they % were now reduced to fear the ferocious animal 
 (the people) whom they had unchained. 
 
 Dreux at last determined to take the order, and to attempt to 
 execute it by himself. It was then between four and five in 
 the afternoon ; the massacre had already begun in the Abbaye : 
 but these circumstances, so discouraging to any other, could 
 not shake his resolution ; he determined to pursue his courage- 
 ous enterprise. 
 
 As he approached the Abbaye, he saw Manuel, who had 
 come thither ostensibly to try to calm the people, perhaps with- 
 out any desire, and certainly without any hope of success. 
 Dreux joined him, and told him of the refusal of the Commis- 
 saries of the Section of the Cordeliers, and entreated him «o 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 221 
 
 execute his own order. Manuel refused, saying that he came 
 there only on public affairs; he began to harangue the popu- 
 lace ; his voice was weak, and the words expired on his lips. 
 Dreux, to gain his good will, became his interpreter, repeated 
 word for word what he said, in a strong clear voice ; at last the 
 following words escaped either from the interpreter or the orator, 
 that only villains could commit such outrages, and trample 
 under their feet all laws. 
 
 At the word villain, which should not have been rashly ut- 
 tered beiore such an audience, loud murmurings arose, the cry 
 of aristocracy arose, and the mob menaced both the orator and 
 his interpreter. Dreux pulled the magistrate by the sleeve, 
 showed him his danger, made him take off his scarf, forced 
 him through the crowd, and returned with him in a hackney 
 coach to the Hotel de Ville, where Dreux hoped to find some 
 Commissary who would supply the place of those who had 
 already refused him. 
 
 Manuel told the members of the Commune of his escape, 
 which he said he owed entirely to the young citizen whom they 
 now beheld, (great applause.) One of the members made a vote 
 of thanks to the protector of Manuel, and begged that his name 
 might be inscribed in the registers of the Commune. Dreux 
 thanked them, said that he had only done his duty, and refused 
 to tell his name. All the reward asked for the service he had 
 done to the magistrate of the people, was, that they should give 
 him a Commissary to execute his order ; but he here experien- 
 ced the same refusal which he had met with at the Cordeliers ; 
 he found himself again reduced to execute the order himself. 
 
 He could not get to the Abbaye, or execute his courageous 
 design, without some assistance ; he wanted arms. He was so 
 fortunate as to find, just near him, a young man, a friend of his, 
 who agreed to join him. They went to the Abbe G.'s house, 
 where he found a fusil and a saber. They set off for the Ab- 
 baye, and pierced the crowd till they reached the door of the 
 lower hall, in which that very morning the jailor had told him 
 the Abbe G. was confined ; the approaches to this were not yet 
 crowded by the mob, as the people did not know that there were 
 any prisoners there. 
 
 Dreux then showed the jailor the order. The jailor observ- 
 ed that it was addressed to the concierge., (the keeper,) that he 
 was only a subaltern, and had no power, and that besides, the 
 prisoner's freedom could only be granted by a Commissary of 
 the Section. Dreux opposed this, by all the reasons he could 
 think of. He said that nobody would know, and he promisee 
 
 19* 
 
222 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 to give him the order as soon as he should have executed it 
 Dreux made him a present of fifty livres, and promised him 
 two hundred more if he released his prisoner. This softened 
 the jailor ; he still, however, made no positive promise ; this 
 showed Dreux the necessity of not letting go his hold. 
 
 Dreux placed himself at the door, and under pretense of 
 doing duty as a sentinel, he prevented any crowd from being 
 formed, observing, that if four or five were allowed to stay 
 mere, they would soon increase to twenty or a hundred. To 
 prevent this, he determined to say in a brutal voice, to every 
 body that came towards the little passage behind the church, 
 " no one goes through here" — and to those who insisted upon 
 passing, he added, " do you want to force the guard ?" 
 
 Dreux was in despair at not finding his friend in the halL, 
 where he had seen him that morning ; he could not believe that 
 he was not there. He took a torch to search the hall himself, 
 called him again, looked in every corner, examined every face, 
 and now showed too much his agitation, at not finding this pri- 
 soner, about whom, till then, he had appeared not to know any 
 thing. 
 
 He now saw all his efforts vain, all his hopes vanish. Bid 
 he still live, or had he been in one of the halls where the as- 
 sassins had already been % He at last however discovered the 
 little window, either himself or from some sign from the pri- 
 soners, who had often seen him at la Maine, where he visited 
 the Abbe G. and perceived his good intentions ; however it was, 
 he understood that the Abbe G. had got out of that window, 
 and instantly began to think how he could find him. 
 
 The good young man says, that during this visit, he felt the 
 greatest compassion and respect for all these ecclesiastics, many 
 of whom were very old, most of them on their knees, praying, 
 calmly expecting the stroke of death, without one complaint, or 
 shedding one tear. In the midst of them the Cure of St. Jean 
 engreave octogenaire, with gray hairs, who had been a curate 
 for forty years, having fulfilled this long career with all the 
 civil virtues of a man in public life, and the religious virtues 
 of a good pastor, and now giving to his companions the only 
 arms which they opposed to the fire of the assassins. 
 
 He was particularly struck with a very extraordinary cir- 
 cumstance — that not one of these men answered after such re- 
 peated calls, when they knew that he was not there. ThougA 
 this was such an easy and natural means of escaping their dan- 
 ger, and without hurting the Abbe G., for his absence prevent 
 ed his making any use of the assistance they offered to him. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 223 
 
 There was something- grand and touching in this universal 
 silence. The Abbe (J. in his recital of this circumstance, adds, 
 that he flattered himself, that if he had been in the hall at that 
 moment, he should not have answered. 
 
 To return to Dreux. The interest he had showed to find the 
 Abbe G. at last made them suspect him. Some of the assas- 
 sins who were near him, communicated their suspicions to 
 others — Dreux did not waste any time in disputing with them, 
 but with an astonishing presence of mind, he violently seized 
 one of these priests by the arm, and dragged him to the door, 
 with a most brutal and menacing manner. 
 
 The unfortunate priest, having often seen him at la Maine, 
 naturally thought that not finding the Abbe G. he was going 
 to save his life, and affectionately pressed his hand ; Dreux per- 
 ceived the poor man's mistake, and felt extremely grieved, but 
 he resolved to save his friend and benefactor. He let go the 
 hand of the priest, and mingled in the crowd of the people, 
 foreseeing, but without the power of preventing it, that this un- 
 fortunate man would be one of the first victims. At this mo- 
 ment the massacre of the priests in the hall began. Dreux im- 
 mediately set out to find some way of getting into the little 
 court ; he was followed by his companion whom we formerly 
 mentioned. They came to a little street which was terminated 
 by a wall, which formed one of the sides of the little court, a 
 heap of earth and stones against this wall facilitated their 
 getting upon the wall. By the bright light of the moon, 
 Dreux distinctly saw eight or ten prisoners, amongst whom he 
 soon distinguished the Abbe G.'s tall figure. Dreux at this 
 moment perceived a man beside him, who had got on the heap of 
 rubbish, and was also looking over the wall into the little court ; 
 he was armed with a musket, which he was just going to fire 
 on the people in the little court ; Dreux made a sudden motion 
 apparently from awkwardness, and struck the musket from the 
 man's hand ; he then made a thousand apologies, and got down 
 with him, to look for the door of the court, but he had the ad- 
 dress soon to separate from him. 
 
 He returned to his friend, and his observations having per- 
 fectly satisfied him, he went to the door of the court, where he 
 would have remained quiet if he could, but they gathered to- 
 gether in this place, and very soon the assassins came, and the 
 jailor not being with them, they were proceeding to break open 
 the door of the little court, when Dreux commanded, and ob- 
 tained silence. He then produced, and repeated the order from 
 Manuel, to tne assassins ; amongst the people were manv who 
 
'224 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 had promised to deliver the prisoner. They burst open the 
 door, and called out with loud voices, " Etienne G. ! Abbe G. !" 
 
 The Abbe seeing their bayonets and drawn swords, thought 
 he was going to certain death, and was sure that he was 
 distinguished from his companions only to be treated with more 
 cruelty. He had not then heard. Dreux's voice — imagine his 
 surprise on seeing Dreux and his friend, at the head of the mob, 
 enter the court — Dreux seized him by the arm, and with the 
 assistance of his friend, forced a passage for him through the 
 crowd, and reached the little lane which was formerly men- 
 tioned. 
 
 At one end of this lane, there was a door which opened into 
 the church of the Abbaye. In this church an assembly of the 
 Municipality of the section had just been held — it was one 
 o'clock — the meeting had broken up — the members had all left 
 the church — the Swiss porter had just shut and locked all the 
 doors except that leading from the lane by which Dreux, his 
 friend, and the Abbe G. were entering the church — they enter- 
 ed it, but how were they to get out 1 To return by the door 
 at which they had entered, could only lead them back through 
 the lane to the court, where, at this moment, the mob were mas- 
 sacreing their companions. They had no doubt that the as- 
 sassins would soon follow, to search the church, to pursue and 
 murder those who might take refuge there, as actually happen- 
 ed a few moments afterwards. With great difficulty, by repeat- 
 ed entreaties and vehement threats, Dreux at last obliged the 
 porter to open the great door of the church, and then the outer 
 iron gate — instantly rushing forward with his friend, carrying 
 the Abbe G. between them, crying out as loud as they could, 
 " come through here, come this way — this way — my friends — 
 long life to the nation — vive la nation !" They happily forced 
 their way through another crowd of the people, who had as- 
 sembled at the great door of the church. They got safely to 
 the street of St. Marguerite, where there was no mob, and from 
 whence they could easily go to their own homes. 
 
 We should not omit to mention, that in thus saving his friend, 
 Dreux had an opportunity of doing another good action. A 
 poor priest who had taken refuge, as they had done, in the 
 church, not knowing how to get out, had hid himself behind 
 the door, and when he saw Dreux and his companions come 
 in, he took them for assassins, and trembled from head to foot. 
 This unfortunate priest had no hat on, and was in his ecclesias- 
 tical dress, a circumstance which much increased the danger 
 both for himself, and for all who might attempt to save him. He 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 225 
 
 and a poor curate had been arrested about fifteen miles from 
 Paris, by the federalists, at a nobleman 1 s country house, where 
 he had been paying a visit ; for this crime he had been com- 
 mitted the preceding day to the prison of the Abbaye. 
 
 Dreux ; s friend gave the curate his hat, and hiding and hust- 
 ling him as well as they could between them, they got him 
 through the crowd, under favor of the darkness and confusion. 
 As he had been thrown into prison the moment he had been 
 brought to Paris, he had no lodging, no place to go to in the 
 town. It was not safe to take him to any inn. At last, how- 
 ever, he recollected that he had an acquaintance who lived in 
 a convent, in a remote part of the city ; with this friend he was 
 at last lodged in perfect safety. 
 
 As to the Abbe G., after escaping from so many dangers, the 
 most delightful feeling to him, was not the mere sense of per- 
 sonal escape, but the certainty of having a friend so strongly 
 attached to him — a friend capable of such generous, persever- 
 ing heroism. 
 
 BATTLE OF AB0UKIR, 
 
 Malta having surrendered to the English, after a blockade 
 of two years, the French entered into a treaty for evacuating 
 Egypt ; but the British government refusing to ratify the con- 
 vention which had been formed under the auspices of Sir Sid- 
 ney Smith, the French general in that country re-commenced 
 hostilities. The British government, conceiving that the pos- 
 session of Egypt by the French would endanger their East In- 
 dian possessions, sent Sir Ralph Abercrombie with an army, to 
 drive them from the country : the following is an account of the 
 landing of the army, and the battle of Aboukir. 
 
 " The season being now favorable, orders were issued for 
 effecting a descent, which took place, according to a plan be- 
 fore agreed on, a colored sketch of which was transmitted from 
 on board of the Foudroyant, commanded by Admiral Lord 
 Keith, to each of the captains employed upon this occasion. 
 The first division of the army, amounting to near six thousand 
 men, under Major General Coote, having got into the boats, a 
 rocket was fired at three o'clock in the morning, on which 
 they immediately rowed towards the Mendovi, anchored la a 
 central position at some distance from the shore. At nine, gun 
 boats, armed launches, and cutters, having been stationed for 
 
220 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 their protection, another signal was made, in consequence of 
 which they advanced towards the beach, under the superintend- 
 ence of Captains Cochrane, Stevenson, Scott, Lamour, Apthorpe. 
 and Morrison, of the royal navy; and, instead of dreading the 
 preparations of the enemy, steered directly for that part of the 
 shore where the greatest opposition was likely to take place ; for 
 the French had occupied a steep sand hill, and lined all the adja- 
 cent heights with artillery and infantry, so that on the approach 
 of the flotilla within this amphitheater of fire, the castle of Abou- 
 kir, together with the guns, to the number of fifteen, placed on 
 the eminences, poured down a most terrible and incessant 
 discharge of shot, shell and grape, which forced the boats to 
 incline a little from their original direction, although instead 
 of being daunted, the men answered every discharge by a 
 huzza. 
 
 The reserve under Major General Moore, having leaped on 
 shore, part led by Colonel Spencer, rushed up the eminence, and 
 charging with fixed bayonets, forced the artillery, infantry, and 
 dragoons, to give way in succession. But while the guards, 
 under Major General Ludlow, were landing, and before they 
 had time to form, they were suddenly attacked by a body of 
 cavalry from behind the sand hills, some of the troopers actu- 
 ally leaping at the same time into the sea, where they killed 
 some men, crowded in the boats and incapable of using their 
 arms. Being at length repulsed, the troops advanced in suc- 
 cession to support the reserve, which by this time had obtained 
 possession of the commanding ground in front. In their pro- 
 gress they fell in with a column of the enemy, which had in- 
 tended to attack them in flank; but being overawed by the 
 daring march and unexampled hardihood of the assailants, it 
 retreated towardb Alexandria, after maintaining an irregular 
 fire for some time. On this the English advanced three miles 
 and encamped with the right to the sea, and the left inclining 
 to the lake Maadie. The loss of the British on this occasion 
 in killed and wounded, including seamen and marines, exceed- 
 ed seven hundred, while that of the French, in consequence of 
 being covered by the sand hills, did not amount to more than 
 one half. The possession of the enemy's position, the capture 
 of seven pieces of cannon and a howitzer, together with the 
 discomfiture of a large body of men protected by a fortress, 
 strong batteries, and a nearly inaccessible eminence, constitute 
 the principal exploits of this day. 
 
 The judicious arrangements of the admiral had enabled a 
 body of six thousand men, together with three hundred and 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 2%7 
 
 fifty seamen, who either conducted artillery or acted as pike- 
 men, to land in the course of the first day; and during the suc- 
 ceeding, the remainder being carried on shore, immediately 
 effected a junction. On the 12th, the whole army moved for- 
 ward, and arrived within sight of the enemy, who to the num- 
 ber of six thousand were now encamped on an advantageous 
 ridge of sand hills, with their right towards the canal of Alex- 
 andria, and their left to the sea. Next morning orders were 
 given to attack the French with an intention to turn their right 
 flank. To prevent the success of this evolution, the enemy de- 
 scended from the heights and charged the leading brigades of 
 the two advancing lines, commanded by the Major Genera] 
 Craddock and the Earl of Cavan. The regiments which form- 
 ed their respective advanced guards, suffered considerably upon 
 this occasion ; but the troops having changed their position with 
 equal quickness and precision, obliged the foe to retire under 
 protection of the fortified heights that constituted the principal 
 defense of the city. It was intended to have carried them also, 
 and the reserve under Major General Moore which had remain- 
 ed in column during the whole day, was brought forward for 
 hat purpose; while the second line, under Major General Hut- 
 chinson, advanced to the left, across part of the lake of Mareo- 
 tis, with a view to assail both flanks ; but after some hesitation 
 it was deemed prudent to withdraw and encamp with the right 
 to the sea and the left to the canal of Alexandria and the adja- 
 cent lake, notwithstanding there was but little doubt of the event 
 on the part of the troops, flushed with victory, and confident of 
 success. This movement, however, proved eminently destruc- 
 tive to them, in consequence of being placed within the range of 
 the enemy's cannon ; so that the loss of the British was much 
 greater than during the former action, no less than one hundred 
 and forty-three rank and file having been killed, and nine hun- 
 dred and forty-six wounded. On this occasion, General Aber- 
 crombie, in consequence of a defect in his sight, having been 
 obliged to advance considerably on purpose to reconnoiter, had 
 a horse shot under him, and was saved from being either kill- 
 ed or taken prisoner by the intrepidity of the 19th regiment. 
 
 The English now began to fortify their new position by 
 means of heavy cannon, brought on shore for that purpose; and 
 as a defensive warfare on the part of an invading army always 
 assumes an unprosperous aspect, the late retreat appeared in 
 every point of view to be eminently absurd. What rendered 
 the situation of the British troops still more critical, was the 
 arrival of Menou from Ca>o, with a larsre reinforcement of 
 
S28 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 troops ; Dut on the other hand, the castle of Aboukir, which 
 had sustained a siege of eight days while in possession of the 
 Turks, now surrendered to the British at the end of rive. 
 
 No sooner had the French commander-in-chief entered 
 Alexandria, than he determined to give battle to the English. 
 Instead of hemming in the invaders, cutting off their supplies, 
 intercepting their convoys, and meditating a tedious and des- 
 tructive war against troops unaccustomed to the country, he 
 resolved, notwithstanding the jealousies that prevailed in his 
 own army, to decide the fate of Egypt in a single combat. The 
 necessary dispositions were accordingly made for an attack 
 n'.xt morning before daylight, by a body of about twelve thou- 
 sand men ; and in the general orders issued on the preceding 
 evening, describing the order of battle, it was expressly stated, 
 " that the design was to drive the English into the lake Maa- 
 die." The left, consisting of four demi-brigades of light-in- 
 fantry, was commanded by General Lanusse, assisted by Gene- 
 ral Roize, with a body of cavalry. The generals Frient and 
 Rampon were stationed in the center, with five demi-brigades ; 
 General Reynier was posted on the right, with two demi-bri- 
 gades and two regiments of cavalry; while General D'Estain 
 commanded the advanced guard, consisting of one demi-brigade, 
 some light troops, and a detachment of artillery. The action 
 commenced by a false attack on the left wing of the British, 
 by the dromedary corps ; but the real contest was reserved for 
 the right, against which the French infantry, sustained by a 
 strong body of cavalry, advanced and charged in column, while 
 the brigade under General Silly, marched straight against the 
 grand redoubt. They at the same time attempted to penetrate 
 tne center, while the left was kept in check by means of a body 
 of light troops. 
 
 The first onset, as is usual on the part of the French, was 
 impetuous, and was expected to have been irresistible ; but the 
 steady valor of the English checked their ardor, and they were 
 repulsed in two successive charges, during which the British 
 infantry, although broken, and contending hand to hand with 
 a well appointed cavalry, succeeded in remaining masters of 
 the field. But notwithstanding the whole line had been par- 
 tially engaged, the hottest part of the action occurred on the 
 right ; for the chief effort of the twelve French demi-brigades, 
 and all the cavalry in their camp, one regiment only excepted, 
 was evidently directed against this flank, as it was intended, 
 after turning it, to envelop the reserve, and thus insure a 
 complete victory.' A body of chosen troops, consisting of about 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 229 
 
 nine hundred, which in consequence of a series of brilliant 
 achievements in Italy, had acquired the appellation of "the 
 Invincibles," actually succeeded in a certain degree, by pierc- 
 ing between the walls of an ancient ruin and a modern battery, 
 which they attempted to storm three different times. But re- 
 peated volleys of grape and ball, together with a charge of bay- 
 onets, nearly annihilated the whole of these celebrated soldiers, 
 who perished on the ground they occupied, without flinching, 
 while the officer who bore the famous standard embroidered 
 with their exploits, exclaimed, " Long live the republic !" as 
 he surrendered the trophy, at the same moment, with his life. 
 In the mean time, Menou, perceiving that he was completely 
 foiled, and imagining that he had reason to be dissatisfied with 
 the conduct of some of his generals, determined to withdraw 
 the troops. They accordingly retired, under the protection of 
 their cannon, but although a deficiency of ammunition render- 
 ed the pursuit of the English army less fatal to the French, 
 their flank was annoyed by some armed vessels, the shot from 
 which pierced their columns, and quickened their retreat. 
 
 Amidst such a general display of gallantry, it is difficult to 
 select those regiments which claim a superior degree of merit ; 
 but it is allowed that the twenty-eighth and forty-second parti 
 cularly distinguished themselves on this occasion, while the 
 foreign brigade contributed greatly, by its spirited movement 
 in advance, not only to decide the fate of the day, but to rescue 
 a whole battalion from inevitable destruction. The guards, 
 also, during the attack on the center, conducted themselves with 
 equal coolness and intrepidity ; and the conduct of Major Gen- 
 eral Ludlow, who fought at their head, as well as of Major Gen- 
 eral Moore, who was wounded while leading on the reserve, 
 together with Brigadier General Stuart, and Colonel Puget, 
 at once merited and acquired the praise of the commander-in- 
 chief. 
 
 i The loss of the enemy has been calculated at three thousand 
 men, and many of their principal officers perished on this oc- 
 casion. Their cavalry suffered considerably ; Roize, the com- 
 mander, perished in the field, and two other generals died soon 
 after of their wounds. It appears by the returns, that thirteen 
 hundred and six rank and file, with seventy officers, of the 
 British, were either killed, wounded, or missing. Eight offi- 
 cers of the staff, of which five possessed the rank of general, 
 were included in this list, as was also the commander-in-chief 
 
 On the first attack of the enemy, which proved equally sud- 
 den and unexpected, Sir Ralph Abercrombie rode towards the 
 
 20 
 
230 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 ~ight, against which he perceived all the fury of the assailants 
 to be directed. 
 
 During- a charge with cavalry which took place soon after 
 he was unhorsed and wounded in two different places ; but not- 
 withstanding this, he still possessed strength sufficient to wrest 
 the saber from the hand of a French officer of dragoons, who 
 had attempted to cut him down ; and on being relieved and re- 
 mounted by the aid of a detachment of the forty-second, he pre- 
 sented the weapon to a gallant naval officer, Sir Sidney Smith, 
 who happened to have broken his own during the combat. The 
 general, however, could not be prevailed upon to quit the field, 
 until after the defeat of the French, and the conclusion of a 
 combat which had continued nearly seven hours. At length, 
 fainting with the loss of blood, he was carried on board the 
 Admiral's ship, where he died seven days after, to the inexpres- 
 sible regret of the whole army. 
 
 His successor, in a well written eulogium, pays a due tribute 
 of respect to his memory : " "We have sustained an irreparable 
 loss," says he, in his first public dispatch, " in the person of 
 our never sufficiently to be lamented commander-in-chief, who 
 was mortally wounded in the action, and died on the 28th of 
 March. I believe he was wounded early, but he concealed his 
 situation from those about him, and continued in the field, giv- 
 ing his orders with that coolness and perspicuity which had 
 ever marked his character, till long after the action was over, 
 when he fainted through weakness and loss of blood. Were 
 it permitted," continues Hutchinson, " for a soldier to regret 
 any one who has fallen in the service of his country, I might 
 be excused for lamenting him more than any other person ; but 
 it is some consolation to those who tenderly loved him, that as 
 his life was honorable, so was his death glorious. His memo- 
 ry will be recorded in the annals of his country, will be sacred 
 to every British soldier, and embalmed in the recollection of a 
 grateful posterity." 
 
 Thus ended a conflict in which the number of prisoners did 
 not exceed two hundred, and the cannon taken amounted to but 
 two, one of which, upon a former occasion, had constituted part 
 of the spoil of the vanquished Austrians. But notwithstanding 
 this, and although a numerous army was yet to be overcome, 
 lines nearly impregnable to be stormed, and two fortified towns 
 o be captured, this action, fought on the barren isthmus of Abou- 
 kir, by its moral and political, as well as military effects, event- 
 ually decided the sovereignty of the whole of this portion of 
 Africa. Nor was ever the scene of this important and memo* 
 
Battle of Aboukir.— Page 230. 
 
 Bonaparte crossing the Alps.— Page 237. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 23. 
 
 rablo content devoid of interest, or unworthy of record. The 
 field of battle exhibited the ruins of a Roman colony. At a 
 little distance was a city famous in the annals of mankind, and 
 calculated at once to remind the beholder of the genius of Alex- 
 ander and the exploits of the first Cesar. These monuments 
 of ancient grandeur, now designated by the names of the pillar 
 of Pompey and the needle of Cleopatra, were finely contrasted 
 with the Phasillon, CafFarelli, and Cretin, all fortified according 
 to the modern rules' of war, as well as with the armies of two 
 northern nations, contending for a remote and unhealthy corner 
 of the east, while the adjacent sea presented an object eminently 
 interesting, as connected with the signal defeat of Anthony in 
 one age, and of De Bruix in another. 
 
 A terrific grandeur was at the same time impressed by the 
 sight of so many bodies of men and horses mingled promiscu- 
 ously together, while hundreds of cannon, darting forth scorch- 
 ing names and metals mingled with heat, at once enlivened the 
 gloom, and added to the multitude of victims. 
 
 To crown the whole, an heroic chief, pierced with a mortal 
 wound, and yet consoled even in the embrace of death, by the 
 exploits of his soldiers, was borne reluctantly from the field, 
 which still resounded with his triumph. 
 
 PASSAGE OF THE ALPS, BY BONAPARTE. 
 
 On the 8th of May, 1800, Bonaparte arrived at Geneva. 
 He was met by Marescot, who had been employed in exploring 
 the wild passes of the Great St. Bernard, and received from him 
 an appalling picture of the difficulties of marching an army 
 by that route into Italy. " Is it possible to pass ?" said Na- 
 poleon, cutting the engineer's narrative short. " The thing is 
 barely possible,''' answered Marescot. " Very well," said the 
 chief consul ; " en avant, let us proceed." 
 
 Bonaparte himself, on the 15th, at the head of the main body 
 of his army, consisting of 30,000 men and upwards, marched 
 from Lausanne to the little village, called St. Pierre, at which 
 point there ended every thing resembling a practical road. An 
 immense and apparently inaccessible mountain, reared its heao 
 among general desolation and eternal frost ; while precipices, gla- 
 ciers, ravines, and a boundless extent of faithless snows, which 
 the slightest concussion of the air converts into avalanches, 
 capable of burying armies in their descent, appeared to for- 
 17 
 
2o2 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 bid access to all living things but the chamois, and his scarcely 
 less wild pursuer. Yet, foot by foot, and man Lyman, did 
 the French soldiers proceed to ascend this formidable barrier, 
 which nature had erected in vain, to limit human ambition. 
 The view of the valley, emphatically called " of Desolation," 
 where nothing is to be seen but snow and sky, had no terrors 
 for the First Consul and his army. They advanced up paths 
 hitherto only practiced by hunters, or here and there a hardy 
 pedestrian; the infantry, loaded with their arms, and in full 
 military equipment, the cavalry leading their horses. The mu- 
 sical band played from time to time at the head of the regiments, 
 and, in places of unusual difficulty, the drums beat a charge, 
 as if to encourage the soldiers to encounter the opposition of 
 nature herself. 
 
 Two modes were resorted to, for carrying the cannon, and 
 surmounting the difficulties that presented themselves upon this 
 occasion. General Marmont, who commanded the artillery, 
 ordered trees to be felled, and hollowed in such a manner, as 
 to present a bed .for the eight pounders and howitzers. One 
 hundred men, seizing the rope fastened to each log, pulled with 
 all their force ] while others, by means of levers, prevented it 
 from falling over the craggy summits. The chief of brigade, 
 Gassendi, also contrived sledges, which supported cannon of a 
 larger dimension. 
 
 The gun-carriages were all taken to pieces and carried se- 
 parately, except those belonging to the four pounders, each of 
 which was borne by ten men on a kind of litter. The ammu- 
 nition was conveyed partly by the soldiers, and partly by means 
 of mules. Three whole days were consumed by these opera- 
 tions, and at the end of that period Bonaparte offered one thou- 
 sand livres apiece, being the sum promised by him for each 
 cannon ; but the troops generously refused to accept of any 
 compensation whatsoever. 
 
 Probably no troops save the French could have endured the 
 fatigue of such a march ; and no other general than Bonaparte 
 would have ventured to require it at their hand. 
 
 He set out a considerable time after the march had begun, 
 alone, excepting his guide. He is described by the Swiss pea- 
 sant who attended him in that capacity, as wearing his usual 
 simple dress, a gray surtout, and three-cornered hat. He tra- 
 veled in silence, save a few short and hasty questions, about f hr 
 country, addressed to his guide from time to time. When these 
 were answered, he relapsed into silence. 
 
 There was a gloom on his brow, corresponding with the 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 233 
 
 weather, which was wet and dismal. His countenance had ac- 
 quired, during his eastern campaigns, a swarthy complexion, 
 which added to his natura] severe gravity, and the Swiss pea- 
 sant who guided him, felt fear as he looked on him. Occasion- 
 ally his route was stopped by some temporary obstacle occasioned 
 by a halt in the artillery or baggage ; his commands on such 
 occasions were peremptorily given, and instantly obeyed ; his 
 very look seeming enough to silence all objection, and lemove 
 every difficulty. 
 
 After reaching the village of St. Peter, three leagues of the 
 steepest portion of the ascent were still to be scaled, and that 
 too by means of an intricate foot-way, before the soldiers, faint- 
 ing with fatigue, could reach the summit of St. Bernard, which 
 takes its name from an inhabitant of Savoy, Bernard de Meu- 
 thon, who, with a provident humanity, founded a monastery 
 there during the sixteenth century, for the benefit of such tra- 
 velers as might be either bewildered or benighted in the moun- 
 tains. Having at length climbed to the top, with incredible 
 labor, at the end of five hours, the army, exhausted with fa- 
 tigue, and in need of refreshment, found a banquet ready pre- 
 pared for them. Tables, placed upon the snow, presented bread, 
 victuals, and wine ; and the monks, presiding over this unexpect- 
 ed but desirable repast, pressed the willing soldiers to partici- 
 pate in what they termed their frugal fare. This entertainment 
 was provided by Bonaparte, who had sent money to the monks 
 of St. Bernard, for this purpose, from Lausanne. 
 
 The descent to Vernay, the first village in Piedmont, was 
 accompanied with less exertion, but greater danger ; several 
 horses fell over the precipices, and every division occupied three 
 hours in the march. Some of the soldiers, on purpose to econo- 
 mize time, glided along the top of the polished snow to the 
 foot of the precipice, in the space of a few minutes, and Bona- 
 parte himself was the first to give the example of this new 
 mode of descending into Italy. 
 
 The whole of the army and artillery having at last passed the 
 mountain, after three days of unceasing exertion, the advanced 
 guard, commanded by General Lasnes, took possession of Aosta. 
 The town of Bard exhibited a feeble resistance ; but the hatchets 
 of the grenadiers having forced open the gates, the army 
 passed through the place, under the protection of a battery sta- 
 tioned on the steepest part of a mountain. The fortress itself 
 was forced to surrender in the course of a few hoars, after 
 which the invaders established their head-quarters at Ivrea. 
 
 20* 
 
234 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 THE BATTLE OF TRAFALGAR. 
 
 [From the Bijou.] 
 
 I was scarcely sixteen when I embarked for the first time in 
 
 the B . of eighty guns, and joined the fleet off Cadiz, under 
 
 the command of Lord Nelson, in the early part of October, 1805. 
 On the 19th of that month, the appearance of a ship under a 
 press of sail, steering for the fleet, and. firing guns, excited our 
 attention, and every glass was eagerly pointed towards the 
 stranger, in anticipation of the intelligence which the repeating 
 ships soon announced, " that the enemy was getting undei 
 weigh." The signal was instantly made for a general chase, 
 and in a few minutes all sail was set by the delighted crew. An 
 instance of the quick observation of the admiral which now oc- 
 curred, is deserving of notice. It was his lordship's custom to 
 paint the masts of his ship yellow, and the hoops of the same 
 color ; and as the black hoops were universal in the navies of 
 France and Spain, he saw the advantage which might arise from 
 the distinction ; he therefore telegraphed to us and a few others 
 to conform to his system. This arrangement proved of great 
 utility, for in situations where the ensign was shot away, or hid 
 from view, it was only necessary to ascertain that the hoops were 
 black to be certain of our opponent. Our headmost ships got 
 sight of the combined fleet the next morning, and in the after- 
 noon they were visible from the deck. Every preparation was 
 made for battle; and as our look-out squadron remained close 
 to them during the night, the mind was kept in continual agita- 
 tion by the firing of guns and rockets. 
 
 As the day dawned, the horizon appeared covered with ships ; 
 the whole force of the enemy was discovered standing to the 
 southward, distant about nine miles, between us and the coast 
 near Trafalgar. I was awakened by the cheers of the crew, 
 and by their rushing up the hatchways to get a glimpse of the 
 hostile fleet. The delight manifested, exceeded any thing I ever 
 witnessed ; surpassing even those gratulations, when our native 
 cliffs are descried after a long period of distant service. 
 
 There was a light air from the N. W. with a heavy swell. 
 The signal to bear up and make til sail, and to form the order 
 of sailing in two divisions, was thrown out, the Victory, Lord 
 Nelson's ship, leading the starboard, and the Royal Sovereign, 
 bearing the flag of Admiral Collingwood, the second in com' 
 mand, the lee-line. At eight the enemy wore to the northward, 
 and owing t( the light wind which prevailed during the day ; 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 235 
 
 they \tere prevented from forming with any precision, and pre- 
 sented the appearance of a double line convexing to leeward. 
 At nine we were about six miles from them, with studding sails 
 on both sides; and as our progress never exceeded a mile and 
 a half an hour, we continued all the canvas we could spread un- 
 til we gained our position alongside our opponent. The officers 
 now met at breakfast ; and though each seemed to exult in the 
 hope of a glorious termination to the contest so near at hand, a 
 fearful presage was experienced that all would not again unite 
 at that festive board. One was particularly impressed with a 
 persuasion that he should not survive the day ; nor could he di 
 vest himself of this presentiment, but made the necessary dis- 
 posal of his property in the event of his death. The sound of 
 the drum, however, soon put an end to our meditations ; and 
 after a hasty, and, alas ! a final farewell to some, we repaired to 
 our respective posts. 
 
 Our ship's station was far astern of our leader, but her supe- 
 rior sailing caused an interchange of places with the Tonnant: 
 on our passing that ship, the captains greeted each other on the 
 
 honorable prospect in view:' Captain T exclaimed, "A 
 
 glorious day for Old England ! We shall have one apiece be- 
 fore night!" This confidence in our professional superiority, 
 which carries such terror to other nations, seemed expressed in 
 every countenance; and as if in confirmation of this soul-inspir- 
 ing sentiment, the band of our consort was playing — " Britons 
 strike home." At half-past ten the Victory telegraphed — " Eng- 
 land expects that every man will do his duty." As the emphatic 
 injunction was communicated through the decks, it was re- 
 ceived with enthusiastic cheers: and each bosom glowed with 
 ardor at this appeal to individual valor. About half-past eleven 
 the Royal Sovereign fired three guns, which had the intended 
 effect of inducing the enemy to hoist their colors, and showed 
 us the tricolored flag intermixed with that of Spain. The,drum 
 now repeated its summons ; and the captain sent for the officers 
 commanding the several quarters. " Gentlemen," said he, " I 
 have only to say that I shall pass close under the stern of that 
 ship ; put in two round shot, and then a grape, and give her 
 that. Now go to your quarters, and mind not to fire till each 
 gun will bear with effect." With this laconic instruction, the 
 gallant little man posted himself on the slide of the foremost car- 
 ronade, on the starboard side of the quarter-deck. At forty-five 
 minutes past eleven, a ship, ahead, opened her fire, and finding 
 that her shot passed over the Sovereign, several others did the 
 same ; and from the peculiar formation of this part of their line 
 
236 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 as many as ten ships brought their broadsides to bear with 
 powerful effect. The determined and resolute countenance of 
 the weather-beaten sailor, here and there brightened by a smile 
 of exultation, was well suited to the terrific appearance which 
 they exhibited; some were stripped to the waist; some had 
 bared their necks and arms; others had tied a handkerchief 
 round their heads ; and all seemed eagerly to await the order to 
 engage. My two brother officers and myself were stationed, 
 with about thirty men at small arms, on the poop, on the front 
 of which I was now standing. The shot began to pass over us, 
 and gave us intimation of what we should in a few minutes un- 
 dergo. An awful silence prevailed in the ship, only interrupted 
 by the commanding voice of Captain H , "Steady! star- 
 board a little! Steady, so !" echoed by the master, directing the 
 quarter-masters at the wheel. A shriek soon followed ; a cry 
 of agony was produced by the next shot; the loss of the head of 
 a poor recruit was the effect of the succeeding; and as we ad- 
 vanced, destruction rapidly increased. A severe contusion in 
 the breast now prostrated our captain, but he soon resumed his 
 command. Those only who have been in a similar situation to 
 the one I am attempting to describe, can have a correct idea of 
 such a scene : my eyes were horror struck at the bloody corses 
 around me; and my ears rang with the shrieks of the wounded, 
 and the moans of the dying. At this moment, seeing that al- 
 most every one was lying down, I was half disposed to follow 
 the example, and several times stooped for the purpose ; but — 
 and I remember the impression well — a certain monitor seemed 
 to whisper, — " Stand up and do not shrink from your duty." 
 Turning round, my much esteemed and gallant senior fixed my 
 attention : the serenity of his countenance, and the composure 
 with which he paced the deck, drove more than half my terrors 
 away ; and joining him, I became somewhat infused with his 
 spirit, which cheered me on to act the part it became me. My 
 experience is an instance how much depends on the example of 
 those in command, when exposed to the fire of the enemy, more 
 particularly in the trying situation in which we were placed for 
 nearly thirty minutes, from not having the power to retaliate. 
 
 It was just twelve o'clock when we reached their line. Our 
 energies became roused, and the mind diverted from its appall- 
 ing condition, by the order of "stand to your guns !" which, as 
 they successively came to bear, were discharged into our op- 
 ponents on either side ; but as we passed close under the stern 
 of the Santa Anna of one hundred and twelve guns, our atten- 
 tion was more strictly called to that ship. Although, until thai 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 237 
 
 moment, we had not fired a shot, our sails and rigging bore evi- 
 dent proofs of the manner in which we had been treated : our 
 mizen-top-mast was shot away, and the ensign had been thrice 
 re-hoisted : numbers lay dead on the decks, and eleven wounded 
 were already in the surgeon's care. The firing was now tremen- 
 dous ; and at intervals the dispersion of the smoke gave us a 
 sight of the colors of our adversaries. At this critical period, 
 while steering for the stern of l'lndomptable, which continued a 
 most galling, raking fire on us, the Fougueux being on our 
 starboard quarter, and the Spanish Monarca on our larboard 
 bow, the master earnestly addressed the captain — " Shall we go 
 through, sir?" " Go through by !" was his energetic re- 
 ply; "there's your ship, sir, place me close along side of her." 
 Our opponent defeated this manoeuver by bearing away in a par- 
 allel course with us, within pistol shot. About one o'clock the 
 Fougueux ran us on board on the starboard side ; and we con- 
 tinued thus engaging until the latter dropped astern : our mizen- 
 mast soon went, and shortly afterwards the main-top-mast. A 
 two-decked ship then took a position on our bow ; and a seventy- 
 four, the Achille, on our quarter. At two o'clock the main-mast 
 fell over the larboard side, and at half-past the fore-mast was shot 
 away close to the deck. In this unmanageable state we were 
 but seldom capable of annoying our antagonists, while they had 
 the power of choosing their distance ; and every shot from them 
 did considerable execution. We had suffered severely, as must 
 be supposed; and those on the poop were now ordered to assist 
 at the quarter deck guns, where we continued until the action 
 ceased. I was under the break of the poop, aiding in running 
 out a carronade, when a cry of " stand clear there, here it comes," 
 made me look up ; and at that instant the main-mast fell over the 
 bulwarks just above me. This ponderous mass made the ship's 
 whole frame shake; and had it taken a central direction, it 
 would have gone through the poop, and added many to our list 
 of sufferers. Until half-past three we remained in this harass- 
 ing situation: the only means of bringing our battery towards 
 the enemy was to use the sweeps in \he gun-room ports. To 
 these we had recourse, but without effect, for even in ships un- 
 der perfect command, they prove almost useless ; and we lay a 
 a mere hulk covered in wreck, and rolling with the swell. At 
 this hour a three-decked ship was seen steering towards us. It 
 can easily be imagined with what anxiety every eye turned to- 
 wards this formidable object, which would either relieve us from 
 our unwelcome neighbors, or render our situation desperate. 
 We had scarcely seen the British colors since one o'clock; 
 
238 ' HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 and it is impossible to express our emotion as the alteration of 
 the stranger's course displayed the white ensign to our sight, 
 but we were too confident in our expectation of support ; for al- 
 though she approached near enough to discern the British colors 
 on the stump of our mizen-mast, she took a different direction. 
 We did not, however, continue much longer in this dilemma, 
 for the Swiftsure came nobly to our relief. Can any enjoyment 
 in life be compared with the sensation of delight and thankful- 
 ness which such a deliverance produced ? It was like the transi- 
 tion from death to life ; and the features so long distorted by 
 anxiety softened into an expression of placidity and gratitude. 
 On ordinary occasions we contemplate the grandeur of a ship 
 under sail, with admiration ; and even to those whose profession 
 makes them familiar with such scenes, this wonderful production 
 of art seldom fails to attract general notice. But under impres- 
 sions of danger and excitement, such as prevailed at this crisis, 
 every one eagerly looked towards our approaching friend, who 
 came speedily on ; and when within hail, manned the rigging, 
 cheered, and then boldly steered for the ship which had so long 
 annoyed us: shortly after, the Polyphemus took off the fire from 
 the Spaniard on our bow. 
 
 It was near four o'clock when we ceased firing; but the ac- 
 tion continued in the body of the fleet about three miles to wind- 
 ward. The van division of the enemy having tacked, it seemed 
 that the fight was about to be renewed. Rear Admiral Duma- 
 noir making off with four sail of the line to the southward in 
 close order, passed within gun-shot of us; and as we lay in a 
 helpless and solitary situation, our apprehension was much re- 
 lieved by seeing them proceed silently on their course. The 
 Argonaut, of eighty guns, having surrendered, we sent an officer 
 to take possession. He returned with her second captain, who 
 stated her loss to amount to two hundred killed. 
 
 There are two periods in the life of a sailor which are impres- 
 sive beyond all others in his eventful career: to the first I have 
 adverted in the early part of this narrative, when each hoped to 
 see his friend again ; ana" now that the conflict was over, our 
 kinder feelings resumed their sway. Eager inquiries were ex- 
 pressed, and earnest congratulations exchanged, at this joyful 
 moment. The officers came to make their report to the captain, 
 and the fatal result cast a gloom over the scene of our triumph. 
 I have alluded to the impression of our first lieutenant, that he 
 should not survive the contest. This gallant officer was severely 
 wounded in the thigh, and underwent amputation ; but his pre- 
 diction was realized ; for he expired before the action had ceased. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 239 
 
 The junior lieutenant was likewise mortally wounded on the 
 |uarter-deck. These gallant fellows were lying beside each 
 other in the gun-room preparatory to their being committed to 
 'he deep ; and here many met to take a last look of our departed 
 friends, whose remains soon floated in the promiscuous multitude, 
 without distinction either of rank or nation. In the act of launch- 
 ing a poor sailor over the poop, he was discovered to breathe ; 
 and after being a week in the hospital, the ball which entered 
 the temple came out of his mouth. I notice this occurrence to 
 show the probability that many are thrown overboard when life 
 is not extinct. The upper deck presented a confused and dread- 
 ful appearance. Masts, yards, sails, ropes, and fragments of 
 wreck were scattered in every direction: nothing could be more 
 horrible than the scene of blood and mangled remains with which 
 every part was covered, and which, from the quantity of splinters, 
 resembled a shipwright's yard strewed with gore. 
 
 From our extensive loss, thirty-four killed and ninety-six 
 wounded, our cock-pit exhibited a scene of suffering and carnage 
 which rarely occurs. I visited this abode of suffering with the 
 natural impulse which led many others thither, namely, to as- 
 certain the fate of a friend or companion. So many bodies in 
 such a confined place, and under such distressing circumstances, 
 would affect the most obdurate heart: my nerves were but little 
 accustomed to such trials, but even the dangers of the battle did 
 not seem more terrific than the spectacle before me. On a long 
 table lay several, anxiously looking for their turn to receive the 
 surgeon's care, yet dreading the fate which he might pronounce. 
 One subject was undergoing amputation, and every part was 
 heaped with sufferers. Their piercing shrieks and expiring 
 groans were echoed through this vault of misery; and even at 
 this distant period the heart-sickening picture is alive in my 
 memory. 
 
 What a contrast to the hilarity and enthusiastic mirth which 
 reigned in this spot the preceding evening ! At all other times 
 the cock-pit is the region of conviviality and good humor, for 
 here it is that the happy midshipmen reside, at whose board 
 neither discord nor care interrupt the social intercourse. But 
 a few short hours since, on these benches, which were now 
 covered with mutilated remains, sat these scions of their country's 
 glory, who hailed the coming hour of conflict with cheerful con- 
 fidence, and each told his story to beguile the anxious moments, 
 the younger ones eagerly listening to their experienced asso- 
 ciates j and all united in the toast of " May we meet again a* 
 this hour to-morrow !" I have heard some men say, that they 
 
£40 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 have not felt any thing- like fear at the near approach of battle. 
 Such stoicism may exist; the nerves of robust constitutions may 
 wholly subdue the weakness of our nature; but candor must 
 own that a struggle generally takes place between our senti- 
 ment* of duty and honor and that natural feeling which makes 
 us shudder at impending danger. Truly and beautifully has a 
 distinguished writer observed, 
 
 " The brave man is not he who feels no fear, 
 For that were brutish and irrational ; 
 But he, whose noble soul its fear subdues, 
 And bravely dares the danger nature shrinks from." 
 
 About five o'clock the officers assembled in the captain's 
 cabin *o take some refreshment. The parching effects of the 
 smoke made this a welcome summons, although some of us had 
 been fcrtunate in relieving our thirst by plundering the captain's 
 grapes which hung round his cabin ; still four hours' exertion 
 of bod^r, with the energies incessantly employed, occasioned a 
 lassitude both corporally and mentally, from which even the 
 victorious termination, now so near at hand, could not arouse us. 
 Moreover, there sat a melancholy on the brows of some who 
 mourned the messmate who had shared his perils and his vicis- 
 situdes for many years. Then the merits of the departed hero 
 were repeated with a sigh, but his errors sank with him into the 
 deep. There were few who did not bear some marks of this 
 sanguiniry engagement, and those who had the good fortune to 
 escape unhurt, presented an appearance which testified the dan- 
 gers tb<vy had encountered. 
 
 Before sunset all firing had ceased. The view of the fleet at 
 this period was highly interesting, and would have formed a 
 beautiful subject for a painter. Just under the setting rays were 
 five or six dismantled prizes : on one hand lay the Victory, witn 
 part of our fleet and prizes; and on the left hand the Sovereign, 
 and a similar cluster of ships. The remnant of the combined 
 fleet was making for Cadiz, to the northward. The Achille had 
 burnt to the water's edge, with the tricolored ensign st^ll dis- 
 played, about a mile from us, and our tenders and boats were 
 using every effort to save the brave fellows who had so glori- 
 ously defended her ; but only two hundred and fifty were rescued, 
 and she blew up with a tremendous explosion. A boat with the 
 lieutenput of the Entreprenante shortly after came on board, on 
 his ret> rn from the Victory, to announce the death of the im- 
 mortal Nelson. The melancholy tidings spread through the 
 ship in in instant, and its paralyzing effect was wonderful. Our 
 captain had served under the illustrious chief for years, and had 
 
Death ol Lord Nelson.— Page 2-40. 
 
 Siege of Zaragosa.— Page 252. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 241 
 
 partaken in the anxious pursuit of the enemy across the Atlantic 
 with the same officers and crew. " Lord Nelson is no more," 
 was repeated with such despondency and heartfelt sorrow, that 
 every one seemed to mourn a parent. All exertion was sus- 
 pended : the veteran sailor indulged in silent grief; and some 
 eyes evinced that tenderness of heart is often concealed under 
 the roughest exterior. 
 
 The motive of the French adm>al in putting to sea has been 
 variously stated : by some, to form a junction with the ships in 
 the Mediterranean ; by others, that as Admiral Villeneuve had 
 intimation of being superseded, he determined on fighting our 
 fleet. The latter opinion was confirmed by the Spanish captain, 
 who expressed his astonishment when I told him the extent of 
 our loss. "That is not possible!" he exclaimed, "for we had 
 positive assurance that Lord Nelson was in England, and we 
 believed the English fleet to be no more than twenty-two sail of 
 the line." This mistake arose from Sir Robert Calder's depar- 
 ture for England, and the separation of the squadron which 
 went to Tetuan for water; and the junction of several ships, 
 since that circumstance was not known to the enemy. 
 
 Night coming on, the Naiad frigate took us in tow, and the 
 next day, endeavoring to get into the Straits, we lost sight of the 
 fleet. After the decks were cleared we were employed in erect- 
 ing jury-masts to keep the ship under command, and before 
 dark we had a few small sails set for the purpose. The sea and 
 wind had increased, with every appearance of a heavy gale 
 coming on. The ship labored excessively, and in spite of the 
 constant exertions of the frigate we drifted fast towards the shore. 
 Several times the tow-rope parted, but, notwithstanding the risk 
 of approaching an ungovernable hulk in such a tremendous sea, 
 a line was thrown, and repeatedly the hawser was refixed to her 
 stern. The increasing storm had driven us so near the shore, 
 that it appeared almost beyond human hope that we should es- 
 cape the frightful prospect before us. About midnight a mid- 
 shipman came into the ward-room, where most of our cots were 
 swinging, to say that the captain wished the officers to come on 
 deck, as it was probable we should be ashore very shortly. This 
 awful intelligence was received with consternation and horror, 
 and we instantly started on our feet. Just at this crisis one of 
 the twenty-four pounders out of the stern window, broke adrift 
 from its lashing, and the apprehension of our danger had taken 
 such entire possession of our minds, that the crash appeared to 
 announce our dissolution. 
 
 Those who. have been in a tempest must have witnessed the 
 
 21 
 
242 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 levity and fearlessness of the sailor even in moments of the ut 
 most peril and alarm. After our recovery from the fright which 
 the lurching of the ship had produced, a young man who was 
 roused by the noise ran past us in such dismay, that it created a 
 burst of laughter from men who expected that their existence 
 would terminate the next instant. With difficulty I got on deck ; 
 the ship rolled in the trough of the sea in such a manner, that 
 the water came in through the ports and on the gangways, and 
 the shot were rattling about the decks, on which many of the 
 helpless wounded were lying exposed. 
 
 At one o'clock the roar of the elements continued, and every 
 roll of the sea seemed to the affrighted imagination as the com- 
 mencement of the breakers. The hours lagged tediously on, 
 and death appeared with each gust of the tempest. In the battle 
 the chances were equal; but shipwreck in such a hurricane 
 was certain destruction, and the .doubtful situation of the ship 
 kept the mind in a perpetual state of terror. In this horrible 
 suspense each strike of the bell, as it proclaimed the hour, 
 sounded as the knell of our approaching destiny, for none could 
 expect to escape the impending danger. 
 
 In silent anxiety we awaited the fate which daylight would 
 decide; and the thoughts of home, kindred, and friends, pressed 
 round the heart, and aggravated our despair. Each brighten- 
 ing of the clouds was hailed as- the long-looked for dawn, while 
 the succeeding shade, which appeared to mock our misery, sank 
 our wearied hopes into deeper despondency. How oft and how 
 numerous were the inquiries of the sentry — " How goes the 
 time?" And when the welcome order to "strike two bells"* 
 was heard, it aroused our sinking energies, and every eye was 
 directed towards the shore. In a few minutes — " Land on the 
 lee bow' — Put the helm up!" — resounded through the ship, 
 and all was again bustle and confusion. 
 
 When we got round, the breakers were distinctly seen, about 
 a mile to leeward, throwing the spray to such terrific height, 
 that even in our security we could not behold them without 
 shuddering. This was a period of delight most assuredly; but 
 intense dreai had so long overpowered every other feeling, that 
 escape from destruction seemed like returning animation, pro- 
 ducing a kind of torpor which rendered us insensible to our 
 miraculous preservation : and it was not until the mind had re- 
 covered its wonted caimness that our hearts were impressed with 
 a due sense of the merciful protection we had experienced. 
 
 * Five o'clock 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 243 
 
 As the day advanced the wind abated, and the enlivening rays 
 of the sun well accorded with our happiness. The Naiad having 
 us in tow spread all her canvas, steering a direct course for 
 Gibraltar. All fears had ceased, and the gladdened faces seemed 
 to anticipate nothing but pleasure as .they turned towards the 
 object of our destination. This enjoyment, near as it appeared, 
 was again interrupted by a cry of " A sail ahead I" The next 
 report, that "she looked large," was soon confirmed by "A 
 ship of the line!" 
 
 The consciousness of our own weakness magnifies every ob- 
 ject of terror, and blinds us to tfy resources that may be still at 
 our disposal. " The stranger must," it was supposed, " be the 
 advance of the squadron which escaped to the southward:" and 
 so confidently did the captain believe it, that a consultation was 
 held, when it was resolved to destroy the battered hulk, and 
 make our escape in the frigate. Preparations to carry this de- 
 cision into effect were about to commence, when the private 
 signal dispersed our hasty fears ; and we then recollected that 
 Admiral Louis had gone to Tetuan for water. 
 
 The Rock opened to our view about eleven. On the pre- 
 ceding evening the governor received information of the defeat 
 of the combined fleet by a market-boat, which had been present; 
 and in honor of the victory he directed a salute to be fired by the 
 garrison. When we arrived near our anchorage, the battery of 
 the Devil's Tongue commenced firing, and a feu de joie fol- 
 lowed along the lines ; each ship manned her yards and cheered 
 as we passed ; and our entrance into the Mole was very gratify- 
 ing. Crowds of every class came to greet and congratulate us; 
 and although so jealous a rivalry then existed between the two 
 services, that scarcely an officer of the line came on board, we 
 experienced much attention from those of the royal artillery, and 
 some of us partook of their hospitality. The contrast of our 
 ship's present appearance, with the bright sides and the majestic 
 beauty which marked her proud course a few days before, was 
 very striking to an indifferent observer: to those who felt iden- 
 tified, as it were, with her fortunes, the reflection of her helpless 
 condition, and the honorable scars she bore, made a grateful and 
 lasting impression. We had endured danger and suffering, but 
 we had triumphed! 
 
 Disabled ships continued to arrive for several days, bringing 
 with them the only four prizes that were rescued from the fury 
 of the late gale. The anchorage became covered with ships. 
 In the Mole lay six dismasted hulls, whose battered sides, dis- 
 mounted guns, and shattered ports, presented unequivocal evi* 
 
244 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 dence of the brilliant part they had taken in the gloriously con- 
 gested battle; a little beyond, the more recently arrived lay al 
 their anchors. At this proud moment no shout of exultation was 
 heard, no joyous felicitations were exchanged, for the lowered 
 flag which waved on the Victory's mast marked where the 
 mourned hero lay, and cast a deepening shade over the trium- 
 phant scene. The exertion which was necessary to refit the 
 ships did not however permit the mind to dwell on this melan- 
 choly subject. In a few days several were ready to proceed 
 home; and on the 4th of November, the Victory and ourselves 
 bent our course for England. § As we were the first who took 
 the returns of our killed and wounded, nothing was known of 
 our loss by our friends until our arrival, although several ships 
 had preceded us. Their suspense can be imagined; for the 
 anxious inquirer only knew that we had suffered severely. 
 Each day our protracted arrival increased their solicitude, 
 hoping, yet dreading, as the eager eye watched the signal that 
 announced approaching ships. At length we reached our des- 
 tination, and arrived in Plymouth Sound on the 4th of December. 
 Boats innumerable floated round us with faces expressive of the 
 torturing anxiety which was felt; and a moment ensued of such 
 boundless joy to many, and bitter agony to others, that no pen 
 can describe it ; it would have wrung the most callous heart. 
 
 I could not bear to hear the effusions of grief which bursl 
 from the childless parent, or witness the sorrow of brotherly 
 tenderness ; and I hastened to the affectionate embraces of my 
 own family. 
 
 SIEGE OF ZARAGOZA. 
 
 [From the Monthly Review.] 
 
 The siege of Zaragoza has been a thousand times celebrated, 
 both in prose and verse ; but we question whether it has ever 
 been so ably and so intelligibly described as by Colonel Napier. 
 To his account of this siege we return, sickened with the atro- 
 cities of the Portuguese, and the fearful and unjustifiable retali- 
 ation of the French. The military transactions which preceded 
 the siege, we shall not pause to explain ; it will be sufficient to 
 observe, that when the Spaniards had been defeated at Tudela, 
 the fugitive soldiers hastened with such incredible speed to Za- 
 ragoza, that even fame itself was not able to outstrip them. They 
 carried the first news of their own defeat : — 
 
HJSTORICAL CABINET. 245 
 
 " The citizens and the neighboring peasantry were astound- 
 ed at this quick and unexpected calamity. They had, with a 
 natural credulity, relied on the vain and boasting promises of 
 their chiefs, and, being necessarily ignorant of the true state of 
 affairs, never doubted that their vengeance would be sated by a 
 speedy and complete destruction of the French. When their 
 hopes were thus suddenly blasted ; when they beheld troops, 
 from whom they expected nothing but victory, come pouring 
 into the town with all the tumult of panic ; when the peasants 
 of a'l the villages through which the fugitives passed came rush- 
 ing into the city along with the scared multitude of flying sol- 
 diers and camp followers ; every heart was filled with consterna- 
 tion, and the date of Zaragoza's glory would have ended with 
 the first siege, if the success at Tudela had been followed up by 
 the French with that celerity and vigor which the occasion 
 required. 
 
 "Napoleon, foreseeing that this moment of confusion and terror 
 would arrive, had, with his usual prudence provided the means and 
 given directions for such an instantaneous and powerful attack 
 as would inevitably have overthrown the bulwark of the eastern 
 provinces. But the sickness of Marshal Lasnes, the difficulty 
 of communication, the consequent false movements of Moncey 
 and Ney, in fine, the intervention of fortune, omnipotent as she 
 is in war, baffled the emperor's long-sighted calculations, and 
 permitted the leaders in the city to introduce order among the 
 multitude, to complete the defensive works, to provide stores, and 
 finally, by a ferocious exercise of power, to insure implicit obe- 
 dience to their minutest orders The danger of resisting the 
 enemy appeared light, when a Suspicious word, or even a discon- 
 tented gesture, was instantaneously punished by a cruel death." 
 
 The French, from various causes, neglected to follow up their 
 advantages, by suddenly attacking the city, and were by far too 
 few to invest the place in form. They, however, remained in 
 observation in the neighborhood, and actively employed them- 
 selves in bringing up their battering train, which consisted of 
 sixty guns, with well furnished ammunition. At the same time, 
 the inhabitants of Zaragoza were equally industrious in provi- 
 ding for the siege. In the interval between the first and second 
 siege, the city had been strongly fortified by the genius of a 
 native engineer, and every house had been transformed into a 
 citadel. The description of the " external defenses" we pass 
 over, as less interesting ; but the author's picture of the interior of 
 the city at the commencement of the second siege is so ably exe- 
 cuted, and so necessary to the proper understanding of what fol- 
 18 21* 
 
246 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 lows, that we cannot resist the temptation to transfer it to oui 
 pages. 
 
 " These were the regular external defenses of Zaragoza, most 
 of which were constructed at the time, according to the skill 
 and means of the engineers ; but the experience of the former 
 siege had taught the people not to trust to the ordinary re- 
 sources of art, and, with equal genius and resolution, they had 
 prepared an internal system of defense infinitely more efficacious. 
 
 " It has been already observed, that the houses of Zaragoza 
 were fire-proof, and generally, of only two stories, and that, in 
 all the quarters of the city, the numerous massive convents 
 and churches rose like castles above the low buildings, and that 
 the greater streets, running into the broad-way called the Cosso, 
 divided the town into a variety of districts, unequal in size, but 
 each containing one or more large structures. Now, the citi- 
 zens, sacrificing all personal convenience, and resigning all idea 
 of private property, gave up their goods, their bodies, and their 
 houses, to the war, and being promiscuously mingled with the 
 peasantry and the regular soldiers, the whole formed one mighty 
 garrison, well suited to the vast fortress into which Zaragoza 
 was transformed; for, the doors and windows of the houses 
 were built up, and their fronts loop-holed ; internal communica- 
 tions were broken through the party walls, and the streets were 
 trenched and crossed by earthen ramparts, mounted with can- 
 non, and every strong building was turned into a separate forti- 
 fication. There was no weak point, because there could be 
 none in a town which was all fortress, and where the space cov- 
 ered by the city were the measurement for the thickness of the 
 ramparts." 
 
 Such were the material obstacles which, the inhabitants of 
 Zaragoza opposed to their enemies; but their leaders had re- 
 course to other expedients, and the account which the author 
 gives us of these, is not the least curious passage in his work. 
 
 " The people were cheered by a constant reference to the for- 
 mer successful resistance ; their confidence was raised by the 
 contemplation of the vast works that had been executed, and it 
 was recalled to their recollection that the wet, usual at that sea- 
 son of the year, would spread disease among the enemy's ranks, 
 and would impair, if not entirely frustrate his efforts. Neithei 
 was the aid of superstition neglected ; processions imposed upon 
 the sight, false miracles bewildered the imagination, and ter- 
 rible denunciations of the Divine wrath shook the minds of men, 
 whose former habits and present situation rendered them pecu- 
 liarly susceptible of such impressions. Finally, the .e^ers were 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 247 
 
 themselves so prompt and terrible in their punishments, that the 
 greatest cowards were likely to show the boldest bearing in 
 their wish to escape suspicion. 
 
 " To avoid the danger of any great explosion, the powder was 
 made as occasion required ; and this was the more easily effect- 
 ed, because Zaragoza contained a royal depot and refinery for 
 salt-peter ; and there were powder-mills in the neighborhood, 
 which furnished workmen familiar with the process of manufac- 
 turing that article. The houses and trees beyond the walls were 
 all demolished and cut down, and the materials carried into the 
 town. The public magazines contained six month!? provision ; 
 the convents were well stocked, and the inhabitants had, like- 
 wise, laid up their own stores for several months. General 
 Doyle also sent a convoy into the town from the side of Catalonia, 
 and there was abundance of money, because, in addition to the 
 resources of the town, the military chest of Castanos' army, 
 which had been supplied only the night before the battle of 
 Tudela, was, in the flight, carried to Zaragoza. 
 
 " Companies of women, enrolled to attend the hospitals, and 
 to carry provisions and ammunition to the combatants, were com- 
 manded by the Countess of Burita, a lady of an heroic disposi- 
 tion, who is said to have displayed the greatest intelligence and 
 the noblest character during both sieges. There were thirteen 
 engineer officers, and eight hundred sappers and miners, com- 
 posed of excavators formerly employed on the canal, and there 
 were from fifteen hundred to two thousand cannoneers. 
 
 " The regular troops that fled from Tudela, being joined by two 
 small divisions, which retreated at the same time, from Sangues- 
 sa and Caparosa, formed a garrison of thirty thousand men, and 
 together with the inhabitants and peasantry, presented a mass of 
 fifty thousand combatants, who, with passions excited almost to 
 frenzy, awaited an assault amidst those mighty intrenchments, 
 where each man's home was a fortress, and his family a garri- 
 son. To besiege, with only thirty-five thousand men, a city so 
 prepared, was truly a gigantic undertaking !" 
 
 " Active operations commenced on the 20th of December, 
 when the two French marshals, Moncey and Mortier, having 
 established their hospitals and magazines at Alagon, on the 
 Xalon river, advanced in three columns against Zaragoza. The 
 skirmishes which took place in the vicinity and suburbs of the 
 city, not differing in any respect from the ordinary operations of 
 war, we shall pass over, in order to come the more rapidly to 
 the principal events of the siege. When the success of the 
 French, however, became too evident to be overlooked, the Span- 
 
248 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 ish commanders had recourse to flattering fictions to restrain the 
 hopes of the people. 
 
 " Unshaken by this aspect of affairs, the Spanish leaders, 
 with great readiness of mind, immediately forged intelligence of 
 the defeat of the emperor, and, with the sound of music, and 
 amidst the shouts of the populace, proclaimed the names of the 
 marshals who had been killed ; asserting also, that Palafox's 
 brother, the Marquis of Lazan, was already wasting France, 
 This intelligence, extravagant as it was, met with implicit cre« 
 dence, for such was the disposition of the Spaniards throughout 
 this war, tr&t the imaginations of the chiefs were taxed to pro- 
 duce absurdities proportionable to the credulity of their follow- 
 ers ; hence the boasting of the leaders and the confidence of the 
 besieged augmented as the danger increased, and their anticipa- 
 tions of victory seemed realized when the night-fires of a suc- 
 coring force were discerned blazing on the hills behind Gazan's 
 troops." 
 
 When the siege had been protracted for thirty-three days, 
 without any decisive result, Marshal Lasnes, who had hitherto 
 been prevented by severe illness from conducting the operations 
 in person, arrived before Zaragoza, and instantly gave a new 
 color to the state of affairs. Previously the soldiers, emboldened 
 by the dissensions of the generals, were in a state almost border- 
 ing upon mutiny ; but Lasnes, says the historian, repressing all 
 disputes, restored discipline in the army, and pressed the siege 
 with infinite resolution. After numerous heroic efforts, the 
 French succeeded in driving the Spaniards from their ramparts, 
 and rendered these formidable works the front line of their in- 
 trenchments. 
 
 " The walls of Zaragoza thus went to the ground, but Zara- 
 goza herself remained erect ; and, as the broken girdle fell from 
 the heroic city, the besiegers started at the view of her naked 
 strength. The regular defenses had, indeed, crumbled before 
 the skill of the assailants ; but the popular resistance was imme- 
 diately called, with all its terrors, into action ; and, as if Fortune 
 had reoolved to mark the exact moment when the ordinary calcu- 
 lations of science should cease, the chief engineers on both sides 
 were simultaneously slain. The French general, La Caste, a 
 young man, intrepid, skillful, and endowed with genius, perished 
 like a brave soldier; but the Spanish colonel, San Genis, died not 
 only with the honor of a soldier, but the glory of a patriot ; fall- 
 ing in the noblest cause, his blood stained the ramparts which 
 he had himself raised for the protection of his native place." 
 
 The fortifications of the city having been thus destroyed, ot 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 249 
 
 taken possession of by the enemy, the struggle assumed a new 
 character. 
 
 " The war being now carried into the streets of Zaragoza, the 
 sound of the alarm-bell was heard over all the quarters of the 
 city ; and the people, assembling in crowds, filled the houses 
 nearest to the lodgments made by the French. Additional 
 traverses and barricades were constructed across the principal 
 streets ; mines were prepared in the more open spaces ; and the 
 communications from house to house were multiplied, until they 
 formed a vast labyrinth, of which the intricate windings were 
 only to be traced by the weapons and the dead bodies of the de- 
 fenders. The members of the junta, become more powerful from 
 the cessation of regular warfare, with redoubled activity and 
 energy urged the defense, but increased the horrors of the siege 
 by i ferocity pushed to the very verge of frenzy. Every per- 
 son, without regard to rank or age, who excited the suspicions 
 of these furious men, or of those immediately about them, was 
 instantly put to death; and amidst the noble bulwarks of war, a 
 horrid array of gibbets was to be seen, on which crowds of 
 wretches were suspended each night, because their courage had 
 sunk beneath the accumulating dangers of their situation, or be- 
 cause some doubtful expression or gesture of distress had been 
 misconstrued by their barbarous chiefs. 
 
 " From the heights of the walls which he had conquered, Mar- 
 shal Lasnes contemplated this terrific scene ; and, judging that 
 men so passionate, and so prepared, could not be prudently en- 
 countered in open battle, he resolved to proceed by the slow, but 
 certain process of the mattock and the mine ; and this was also 
 in unison with the emperor's instructions." 
 
 The historian goes on to observe, that from the 29th of January 
 to the 2d of February, the French were solely occupied in en- 
 larging their lodgments upon the walls, and in forcing their way 
 through the walls of the nouses, and the ranks and bodies of the 
 Spaniards, who gallantly opposed them with counter-assaults. 
 
 " It has been already observed, that the crossing of the large 
 stieets divided the town into certain small districts, or islands of 
 houses. To gain possession of these, it was necessary not only 
 to mine but to fight for each house. To cross the large inter- 
 secting streets, it was indispensable to construct traverses above 
 or to work by underground galleries ; because a battery raked 
 each street, and each house was defended by a garrison that, 
 generally speaking, had only the option of repelling the enemy 
 m front or dying on the gibbet erected behind. But as long as 
 the convents and churches remained in possession of the Span 
 
250 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 iards, the progress of the French among the islands of small 
 houses was of little advantage to them, because the large garri- 
 sons in the greater buildings enabled the defenders not only to 
 make continual and successful sallies, but also to countermine 
 their enemies, whose superior skill in that kind of warfare was 
 often frustrated by the numbers and persevering energy of the 
 besieged." 
 
 The more rapidly to overcome these obstacles, several breach- 
 ing batteries were fixed upon two of the principal convents, one 
 of which was assaulted on the 31st of January; while a part of 
 the wall was at the same time thrown down by a petard, and a 
 body of the besiegers poured in, and took possession of the con- 
 vent and several houses in its vicinity. This, however, was not 
 effected without opposition, the Spaniards opening a mine from 
 one convent to the other ; but the miners were discovered and 
 stifled. 
 
 " The 1st of February the breach in St. Augustin, also, be 
 came practicable, and the attention of the besieged being drawn 
 to that side, the French sprung a mine which they had carried 
 under the wall from the side of Saint Monica, and immediately 
 entered by the opening. The Spaniards thus unexpectedly 
 taken in the rear, were thrown into confusion, and driven out 
 with little difficulty. They, however, rallied in a few hours 
 after, and attempted to retake the structure, but without success, 
 and the besiegers, animated by this advantage, broke into the 
 neighboring houses, and, at one push, carried so many as to 
 arrive at the point where the street called the Quemada joined 
 the Cosso, or public walk. The besieged rallied, however, at 
 the last house of the Quemada, and renewed the combat with so 
 much fury that the French were beaten from the greatest part of 
 the houses they had taken, and suffered a loss of above a hundred 
 men." 
 
 The bold resistance made by the Spaniards in another quarter, 
 almost overcame the resolution of the Polish troops, notwith- 
 standing that two tremendous explosions had taken place, and 
 blown up a number of the besieged. 
 
 " The experience of these attacks induced a change in the 
 mode of fighting on both sides. Hitherto the play of the French 
 mines had reduced the houses to ruins, and thus the soldiers 
 were exposed completely to the fire from the next Spanish posts. 
 The engineers, therefore, diminished the quantity of powder that 
 the interior only might fall and the outward walls stand, and this 
 method was found successful. Hereupon the Spaniards, with 
 ready ingenuity, saturated the timbers and planks of the houses 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 251 
 
 with rosin and pitch, and setting fire to those which could no 
 longer be maintained, interposed a burning barrier which often 
 delayed the assailants for two days, and always prevented them 
 from pushing their successes during the confusion that necessa- 
 rily followed the bursting of the mines. The fighting was how- 
 ever incessant, a constant bombardment, the explosion of mines, 
 the crash of falling buildings, clamorous shouts, and the con- 
 tinued echo of musketry deafened the ear, while volumes of 
 smoke and dust clouded the atmosphere and lowered continually 
 over the heads of the combatants, as hour by hour, the French, 
 with a terrible perseverance, pushed forward their approaches to 
 the heart of the miserable but glorious city." 
 
 But the perseverance of the French was at least equalled by 
 the firmness of the Spaniards, who continued, in the midst of 
 blood and desolation, to oppose force to force, and stratagem to 
 stratagem, as long as the ruins of their city afforded them a foot- 
 ing. The French, however, had the advantage of superior 
 genius, knowledge, and discipline ; and they seem at length to 
 have regarded the inhabitants of Zaragoza rather as a ne^lt of 
 wild beasts, which it was their duty to exterminate, than as a 
 band of glorious patriots contending for the independence of their 
 country, and the inviolability of their native hearths. They 
 could not, however, conceal from themselves the fact, that no 
 men ever fought more desperately in defense of their homes; 
 and though they might despise them as soldiers, they must fre- 
 quently have respected them as men. Be this as it may, the 
 besiegers, having carried on their operations until the 17th of 
 February, until the foundations of Zaragoza were pierced by 
 mines and counter-mines like a burrow of rabbits, and until the 
 whole site of the city appeared to be nothing but one mass of 
 smoking and sanguine ruins, began to flag in spirit, if not to re- 
 lax in action. 
 
 " At the left attack also, a number of houses, bordering on the 
 Cosso, being gained, a battery was established that raked that 
 great thoroughfare above ground, while under it six galleries 
 were carried, and six mines loaded to explode at the same mo- 
 ment; but the spirit of the French army was now exhausted; 
 they had labored and fought without intermission for fifty days; 
 hey had. crumbled the walls with their bullets, burst the con- 
 vents with their mines, and carried the breaches with their bayo- 
 nets, — fighting above and beneath the surface of the earth, they 
 had spared neither fire nor the sword, their bravest men were 
 falling in the obscurity of a subterranean warfare; famine 
 pinched them, and Zaragoza was still unconquered ! 
 
252 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 "'Before this siege,' they exclaimed, 'was it ever heard 
 of, that twenty thousand men should besiege fifty thousand ?' 
 Scarcely a fourth of the town was won, and they themselves, 
 tvere already exhausted. ■ We must wait,' they said, • for rein- 
 forcements, or we shall all perish among their cursed ruins, 
 which will become our own tombs, before we can force the last 
 of these fanatics from the last of their dens.' 
 
 " Marshal Lasnes, unshaken by these murmurs, and obstinate 
 to conquer, endeavored to raise the soldiers' hopes. He pointed 
 out to them that the losses of the besieged so far exceeded their 
 own, that the Spaniards' strength would soon be wasted and 
 their courage must sink, and that the fierceness of their defense 
 was already abated, — but if contrary to expectation they should 
 renew the example of Numantia, their utter destruction must 
 quickly ensue from the united effects of battle, misery, and pes- 
 tilence." 
 
 These reasonings had their proper weight with the army, and 
 on the 18th of February a general assault took place. The 
 French, collecting all their energies, as it were, for a last and 
 terrible blow, rushed through the burning and falling ruins, 
 carried the island of houses leading down to the quay, and 
 forced the Spaniards to abandon all the external fortifications 
 between St. Augustin and the Ebro. At the same moment the 
 mines under the university, containing three thousand pounds ol 
 powder, were sprung, the walls tumbled down, and the French 
 entered through the crumbling ruins. Fifty pieces of artillery 
 were at the same moment thundering upon the suburbs ; and 
 Marshal Lasnes, observing that the firmness of the Spaniards 
 appeared to be shaken by these multiplied disasters, immediately 
 ordered an assault, which was attended with considerable success. 
 " This important success being followed on the 19th by an- 
 other fortunate attack on the right bank of the Ebro, and by the 
 devastating explosion of sixteen hundred pounds of powder, the 
 constancy of the besieged was at last shaken. An aid-de-camp 
 of Palafox came forth to demand certain terms, before offered 
 by the marshal, adding thereto that the garrison should be 
 allowed to join the Spanish armies, and that a certain number 
 of covered carriages should follow them. Lasnes rejected these 
 proposals, and the fire continued, but the hour of surrender was 
 come ! Fifty pieces of artillery on the left bank of the Ebro, laid 
 the houses on the quay in ruins. The church of Our Lady of 
 f he Pillar, under whose especial protection the city was supposed 
 to exist, was nearly effaced by the bombardment, and the six 
 mines under the Cosso, loaded with many thousand pounds of 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 253 
 
 powder, were ready for a simultaneous explosion, which would 
 have laid a quarter of the remaining houses in the dust. In fine, 
 war had done its work, and the misery of Zaragoza could no 
 longer be endured. 
 
 "The bombardment, which had never ceased since the 10th 
 of January, had forced the women and children to take refuge 
 in the vaults, with which the city abounded. There the con- 
 stant combustion of oil, the closeness of the atmosphere, unusual 
 diet, and fear and restlessness of mind, had combined to produce 
 a pestilence which soon spread to the garrison. The strong and 
 the weak, the daring soldier and the shrinking child, fell before it 
 alike, and such was the state of the atmosphere and the predispo- 
 sition to disease, that the slightest wound gangrened and became 
 incurable. In the beginning of February the deaths were from 
 four to five hundred daily; the living were unable to bury the 
 dead, and thousands of carcasses, scattered about the streets and 
 court yards, or piled in heaps at the doors of the churches, were 
 left to dissolve in their own corruption, or to be licked up by 
 the flames of the burning houses as the defense became con 
 tracted. 
 
 "The suburb, the greatest part of the walls, and one-fourth of 
 the houses were in the hands of the French ; sixteen thousand 
 shells thrown during the bombardment, and the explosion of 
 forty-five thousand pounds of powder in the mines, had shaken 
 the city to its foundations, and the bones of more than forty 
 thousand persons of every age and sex, bore dreadful testimony 
 to the constancy of the besieged." 
 
 Palafox being- now sick, and the popular leaders, who had 
 principally contributed to keep up the resolution of the besieged, 
 having fallen in battle, a new junta was formed, by which it was 
 determined that a deputation should wait upon Marshal Lasnes, 
 and negotiate a capitulation. The deputation accordingly wait- 
 ed upon the marshal, and, after some little discussion, agreed, 
 according to the French writers, to surrender up the place at 
 discretion; though the Spanish historians assert that certain 
 terms were granted by the French. The instrument, however, 
 has never been produced, and appears to ha^e had no existence, 
 ^-/cept in the partial writers of Spain. The deputation was no 
 doubt assured that the laws of humanity would be respected. 
 
 "With this understanding the deputies returned to the city; 
 but fresh commotions had arisen during their absence. The 
 party for protracting the defense, although the least numerous, 
 were the most energetic ; they had before seized all the boats 
 on the Ebro, fearing that Palafox and others, of whom thev 
 
 22 
 
254 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 entertainer suspicions, would endeavor to quit the town, and 
 they were still so menacing and so powerful, that the deputies 
 durst not pass through the streets, but retired outside the walls 
 to the castle of Aljaferia, and from thence sent notice to the junta 
 of their proceedings. The dissentient party would, however, 
 have fallen upon the others the next day, if the junta had not 
 taken prompt measures to enforce the surrender. The officer 
 in command of the walls near the castle, by their orders, gave 
 up his post to the French during the night, and on the 21st of 
 February, from twelve to fifteen thousand sickly beings laid 
 down those arms which they were scarcely able to support; 
 and this cruel and memorable siege was finished." 
 
 STORMING AND SACKING OF BADAJOZ, IN 1812. 
 
 The night at length passed over, and the dawn of morning 
 ushered in a day pregnant with events that will be recorded in 
 our history as amongst the most brilliant that grace its annals. 
 The batteries against the curtain soon reduced it to a heap of 
 ruins ; and the certainty that the trial would be made the same 
 evening re-established good humor amongst the soldiers. It was 
 known early in the day, that the breaches were allotted to the 
 light and fourth divisions ; to the fifth, the task of escalading the 
 town on the side of the fort of Pardeleras ; and to Picton, with 
 his invincible 3d, to carry the castle by escalading its stupen- 
 dous walls, upwards of thirty-five feet high. The Portuguese 
 brigade, under General Power, were to divert the enemy's at- 
 tention on the side of San Christoval ; while 300 men, taken 
 from the guard in the trenches, were to carry the outwork of 
 San Roque. 
 
 To insure the success of an enterprise, upon which so much 
 was at stake, 20,000 men were to be brought into action as I 
 have described ; by five o'clock, all the ladders were portioned 
 out to those destined to mount them. The time fixed for the as- 
 semblage of the troops was eight; that of the attack, ten. The 
 day passed over heavily, and hour after hour was counted, each 
 succeeding one seemed to double the length of the one that pre- 
 ceded it ; but, true as the needle to the pole, the long-expected 
 moment arrived, and the clear, but deep, note of the town-clock 
 was now heard throughout our lines, as it tolled the hour of 
 eight, and ere its last vibration had died away, the vast mass of 
 assailants were in battle array. A thick and dusky vapor, is- 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 255 
 
 fcumg from the Guadiana and Rivellas, hung- above the heads cf 
 the hostile forces, and hid alike, by its heavy veil, each from the 
 view of its opponent; the batteries on both sides were silent, as 
 if they reserved their efforts for the approaching struggle ; and, 
 except the gentle noise which the rippling of the Guadiana cre- 
 ated, or the croaking of the countless frogs that filled the marshes 
 on each side of its banks, every thing was as still as if the night 
 was to be one of quiet repose ; and a passing stranger, unac- 
 quainted with the previous events, might easily suppose that our 
 army were no otherwise occupied than in the ordinary routine 
 of an evening parade: but Phillipon, profiting by this cessation, 
 retrenched and barricaded the breaches in a manner hereafter 
 to be described. 
 
 So soon as each division had formed on its ground in open 
 column of companies, the arms were piled, and the officers and 
 soldiers, either walked about in groups of five or six together, 
 or sat down under an olive-tree, to observe, at their ease, the ar- 
 rangements of the different brigades which were to take a part 
 in the contest. Then, again, might be seen some writing to their 
 friends a hasty scroll, no doubt, and, in my opinion, an ill-timed 
 one. It is a bad time — at the moment of entering a breach — to 
 write to a man's father or mother — much less his wife ! — to tell 
 them so ; and, besides, it has an unseasonable appearance in the 
 eyes of the soldiers, who are decidedly the most competent 
 judges of what their officers should be, or at least, what they 
 would wish them to be — which is tantamount, at such a crisis. 
 
 There is a solemnity of feeling which accompanies the ex- 
 pectation of every great event in our lives, and the man who 
 can be altogether dead to such a feeling is little, if any thing, 
 better than a brute. The present moment was one that was well 
 calculated to fill every bosom throughout the army ; for, mixed 
 with expectation, hope, and suspense, it was rendered still more 
 touching to the heart, by the music of some of the regiments, 
 which played at the head of each battalion, as the soldiers saun- 
 tered about to beguile the last hour many of them were destined 
 to live. The band of my corps, the 88th, all Irish, played several 
 tunes which exclusively belong to their country, and it is im- 
 possible to describe the effect it had upon us all ; such an air as 
 " Savourneen Deelish" is sufficient, at any time, to inspire a feel- 
 ing of melancholy, but on an occasion like the present, it acted 
 powerfully on the feelings of the men : they thought of their 
 distant homes — of their friends, and of by-gone days. It was 
 Easter Sunday ; and the contras which their present position pre- 
 sented to what it would have been, were they in their native 
 
256 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 land, afforded ample food for the occupation of their minds; but 
 they were not allowed time for much longer reflection. The ap- 
 proach of Generals Picton and Kempt, accompanied by their 
 staff; was the signal for the formation of the column of attack ; 
 and almost immediately the men were ordered to stand to their 
 arms. Little, if any directions were given ; indeed, they were 
 unnecessary — because the men, from long service, were so con- 
 versant with the duty they had to perform, that it would have 
 been but a waste of words and time, to say what was required 
 of them. 
 
 All was now in readiness. It was twenty-five minutes past 
 nine: the soldiers unincumbered with their knapsacks — their 
 stocks off — their shirt-collars unbuttoned — their trowsers tucked 
 up to the knee — their tattered jackets, so worn out, as to render 
 the regiment they belonged to barely recognizable — their huge 
 whiskers, and bronzed faces, which several hard-fought cam- 
 paigns had changed from their natural hue — but, above all, their 
 self-confidence, devoid of boast or bravado, gave them the appear- 
 ance of what they, in reality, were — an invincible host. 
 
 The division now moved forward in one solid mass, the 45th 
 leading, followed closely by the 88th and 74th ; the brigade of 
 Portuguese, consisting of the 9th and 21st regiments of the line, 
 under Colonel de Champlemond, were next ; while the 5th, 77th, 
 83d, and 94th, under Colonel Campbell, brought up the rear. 
 Their advance was undisturbed until they reached the Rivellas ; 
 but at this spot some fire-balls, which the enemy threw out, caused 
 a great light, and the third division, 5000 strong, were to be seen 
 from the ramparts of the castle. The soldiers, rinding they were 
 discovered, raised a shout of defiance, which was responded to 
 by the garrison, and in a moment afterwards, every gun that 
 could be brought to bear against them was in action ; but no way 
 daunted by the havoc made in his ranks, Picton, with his division* 
 forded the Rivellas, knee-deep, and soon gained the foot of the 
 castle wall, and here he saw the work that was cut out for him, 
 for he no longer fought in darkness. The vast quantity of com- 
 bustible matter, which out-topped this stupendous defense, was 
 in a blaze, and the flames which issued forth on every side, light- 
 ed, not only the ramparts and ditch, but the plains that intervened 
 between them and the Rivellas. A host of veterans crowned 
 the wall, all armed in a manner as imposing as novel ; each man 
 had beside him eight loaded firelocks; while, at intervals, and 
 proportionably distributed, were pikes of an enormous length, 
 with crooks attached to them, for the purpose of grappling with 
 the ladders ; the top of the wall was covered with rocks of pon- 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 257 
 
 6 \>us size, only requiring a slight push to hurl them upon the 
 In ads of our soldiers; and there was a sufficiency of hand-gie- 
 nades and small shells, at the disposal of the men that defended 
 this point, to have destroyed the entire of the besieging army ; 
 while on the flanks of each curtain, batteries, charged to the 
 muzzle with grape and case shot, either swept away entire 
 sections, or disorganized the ladders as they were about p be 
 placed, and an incessant storm of musketry, at the distance of 
 fifteen yards, completed the resources which the enemy brought 
 into play, which, as may be seen, were of vast formidableness. 
 
 To oppose this mass of warriors, and heterogeneous congrega- 
 tion of missiies, Picton had nothing to depend upon for success but 
 his tried and invincible old soldiers — he relied firmly upon their 
 devoted courage, and he was not disappointed. The terrible 
 aspect of the rugged wall, forty feet in height, in no way intimi- 
 dated them; and, under a frightful fire of small arms and artil- 
 lery, the ponderous ladders were dragged into the ditch, and, 
 with a degree of hardihood that argued well for the issue, were 
 planted against the lofty battlements that domineered above his 
 soldiers' heads : but this was only the commencement of one of 
 the most terrific struggles recorded during this hard-fought night. 
 Each ladder, so soon as placed upright, was speedily mounted, 
 and crowded from the top round to the bottom one ; but those 
 that escaped the pike-thrusts, were shattered to atoms by the 
 heavy cross-fire from the bastions, and the soldiers that occupied 
 them, impaled upon the bayonets of their comrades in the ditch, 
 died at the foot of those ladders which they had carried such a 
 distance, and with so much labor. An hour had now passed 
 over — no impression had been made upon the castle, and the 
 affair began to have a very doubtful appearance, for, already 
 more than half of the third division had been cut off General 
 Kempt, commanding the right brigade, fell, wounded, early in 
 the night; and the 88th regiment alone, the strongest in the 
 division, lost nineteen officers and four hundred and fifty men, and 
 the other regiments were scarcely in a better condition. Picton, 
 seeing the frightful situation in which he was placed, became un- 
 easy : but the good will with which his brave companions ex- 
 posed and laid down their lives re-assured him ; he called out 
 to his men — told them they had never been defeated, and that 
 now was the moment to conquer or die. Picton, although not 
 xoved by his soldiers, was respected by them : and his appeal, 
 as well as his unshaken front, did wonders in changing the des- 
 perate state of the division. Major Ridge, of the 5th, by his 
 personal exertions, caused two ladders to be placed upright, and 
 
 22* 
 
258 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 he, himself, led the way to the top of one, while an officer of 
 the 83d, (Lieutenant Bowles, I believe,) mounted the other; a 
 few men, at last, got footing on the top of the wall ; at the same 
 time, Lieutenant William Mackie of the 88th — he that led the 
 forlorn hope at Rodrigo — (unnoticed ! — still a lieutenant! !) — 
 and Mr. Richard Martin (son to the member for Galway, who 
 acted as a volunteer with the 88th during the siege) succeeded 
 in mounting another. Mackie — ever foremost in the fight — 
 soon established his men on the battlements, himself unhurt, but 
 Martin fell desperately wounded. A general rush to the ladders 
 now took place, and the dead and wounded, which lay in the 
 ditch, were indiscriminately trampled upon, for humanity was 
 nowhere to be found. A frightful butchery followed this sue* 
 cess; and the shouts of our soldiery, mingled with the cries of 
 the Frenchmen, supplicating for mercy, or in the agonies of 
 death, were heard at a great distance. But few prisoners wers 
 made ; and the division occupied, with much regularity, the dif 
 ferent points allotted to each regiment. Meanwhile the ravelin 
 of San Roque was carried by the gorge, by a detachment drawn* 
 from the trenches, under the command of Major Wilson of the 
 48th, and the engineers were directed to blow up the dam and 
 sluice that caused the inundation of the Rivellas, by which 
 means the passage of that river, between La Picturina and the 
 breaches could be more easily effected. One entire regiment of 
 Germans, called the regiment of Hesse d'Armstadt, that defend- 
 ed the ravelin, were put to death. 
 
 While all this was taking place at the castle and San Roque, 
 a fearful scene was acting at the breaches. The light and 4th 
 divisions, 10,000 strong, advanced to the glacis undiscovered — a 
 general silence pervaded the whole, as the spirits of t T he men 
 settled into that deep sobriety which, denotes much determination 
 of purpose; but at this spot their footsteps were heard; and per- 
 haps since the invention of gunpowder, its effects were never 
 more powerfully brought into action. In a moment, the different 
 materials, which the enemy had arranged in the neighborhood 
 of the breaches, were lighted up — darkness was converted into 
 light — torches blazed along the battlements — and a spectator, at 
 a short distance from the walls, could distinguish the features of 
 the contending parties. A battery of mortars, doubly loaded 
 with grenades, and a blaze of musketry, unlike any thing 
 hitherto witnessed by the oldest soldier, opened a murderous fire 
 against the two divisions ; but, unshaken by its effects, they 
 pressed onward, and jumped into the ditch. The fourth di- 
 vision, destined to carry the breach to tho right, met with « 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 259 
 
 frightful catastrophe at the onset. The leading platoons, con- 
 sisting of the fusileer brigade, sprang into that part of the ditch 
 that had been filled by the inundation of the Rivellas, and were 
 seen no more; but the bubbles that rose on the surface of the 
 water were a terrible assurance of the struggles which those 
 devoted soldiers ineffectually made to extricate themselves from 
 the deadly grasp of each other and from so unworthy an end. 
 Warned by the fate of their companions, the remainder turned 
 to the left, and following the footsteps of the light division, 
 pressed onwards in one mingled mass to the breaches of the 
 curtain and La Trinidad. Arrived here, they encountered a 
 series of obstacles that it was impossible to surmount, and 
 which I find great difficulty in describing. Planks, of a suffi- 
 cient length and breadth to embrace the entire face of the 
 breaches, studded with pikes a foot long, were to be surmount- 
 ed ere they reached the top of the breach ; yet some there were 
 — the brave Colonel Macleod of the 43d, amongst the number — 
 who succeeded so far, but on gaining the top, chevaux de frise, 
 formed of long sword-blades firmly fixed in the trunks of trees of 
 a great size, and chained, boom-like, across the breach, were still 
 to be passed : while at each side, and behind the chevaux de 
 frise, trenches were cut, sufficiently extensive for the accommo- 
 dation of 3000 men, who stood in an amphitheatrical manner — 
 each tier above the other — and armed with eight muskets each, 
 like their companions at the castle, awaited the attack so soon 
 as the planks on the face, and the chevaux de frise on the top of 
 the breach were surmounted ; but they might have waited until 
 doomsday for that event, because it was morally impossible. 
 
 The vast glare of light caused by the different explosions, and 
 the fire of cannon and musketry, gave to the breaches the ap- 
 pearance of a volcano vomiting forth fire in the midst of the army; 
 the ground shook, meteors shone forth in every direction, and 
 when for a moment the roar of battle ceased, it was succeeded 
 by cries of agony, or the furious exultation of the imperial 
 soldiers. To stand before such a storm of fire, much less en- 
 deavor to overcome a barrier so impregnable, required men 
 whose minds, as well as frames, were cast in a mould not hu* 
 man; but nevertheless, so it was. The gallant light and fourth 
 divisions boldly braved every danger, and with a good will, 
 rarely to be found, prolonged a struggle, the very failure of 
 which, taking into account the nature of the obstacles opposed to 
 them, and their immense losses, was sufficient to immortalize 
 them. At length, after a dreadful sacrifice of lives — all the 
 generals, and most of the colonels, being either killed or 
 
260 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 wounded — they were driven from the breaches, while the 
 Frenchmen, securely intrenched behind them, might be seen 
 waving their caps in token of defiance. This was too galling 
 for men who had never known defeat ; and they ran back head- 
 long to the attack, and destruction. But for what end? To 
 judge from the past, when their numbers were more numerous 
 they had failed ; they were now reduced to less than half, while 
 the resources of the enemy were unimpaired; and the prospect 
 before them was hideous. Their former efforts, when they were 
 in full vigor, had not been productive of any good result, and 
 they felt that those they had made were stronger than those 
 which were yet to come; but experience and feeling were alike 
 unheeded ; hope, more powerful than either, urged them on, and 
 like an unlucky gamester, every fresh reverse but increased their 
 eagerness to continue the game. Again did they attempt to pass 
 this terrible gulf of steel and flame ; and again were they driven 
 back, cut down, annihilated. Thousands of the bravest soldiers 
 lay in piles upon each other, weltering in blood, and trodden 
 down by their own companions. The 43d left twenty-two 
 officers and three hundred men on the breach; four companies 
 of the 52d were blown to atoms by an explosion; and the 95th, 
 as indeed everj' other regiment engaged, suffered in proportion. 
 Our batteries, from whence a clear view of all that was passing 
 could be distinguished, maddened by the havoc of the breaches, 
 poured in a torrent of shot ; and, in the excitement of the moment, 
 killed friends as well as foes. Finally, the remnant of the two 
 divisions retired ; and with a valor, bordering upon desperation, 
 prepared for a third trial ; but the success of Picton's attack was 
 by this time whispered amongst them, and the evacuation of the 
 breaches soon after confirmed the rumor. 
 
 While the attack of the castle and breaches was in progress, 
 the fifth division, under General Leith, maintained a fierce and 
 dangerous struggle on the south side of the city and the Parde- 
 leras fort; but the resistance at those points was feeble, as com- 
 pared with the other two. In some instances, the French troops 
 deserted the walls before they were carried ; and it is worthy of 
 remark, that while the 38th regiment were mounting the ladders, 
 the imperial soldiers were scrambling down them at the reverse 
 side; in many instances, treading upon the fingers of our own 
 men ! The few men of Leith's division, thus established on the 
 ramparts, boldly pressed on in the hope of causing a change in 
 favor of the men at the breaches; but the multitude that had fled 
 before this handful of troops became reassured when they be* 
 held the scantiness of their numbers, and, returning to the f.ght, 
 
Storming of Badajoz.— Page 260. 
 
 View of St. Sebastian 
 
 19 
 
f HISTORICAL CABINET. 26! 
 
 forced them up a street leading to the ramparts. Leith's men 
 became panic-struck by this unexpected burst, and retraced their 
 steps in confusion ; many were killed ere they reached the wall ; 
 and some, infected by the contagion of the moment, jumped over 
 the battlements, and were dashed to pieces in their fall. One, 
 an officer, bearing the flag of his regiment, fearing it might be 
 captured, flung himself from the wall, and falling into a part 
 of the ditch that was filled with the slime of the river, escaped 
 unhurt. At this critical moment, General Walker reached the 
 spot Math a fresh body of troops, and driving back the French 
 with ruinous disorder, established his men at this point ; and 
 from that moment, the fate of Badajoz was sealed. The ene- 
 my fled in every direction towards the bridge leading to San 
 Christoval ; and the remnant of the ill-fated light and 4th di- 
 visions with difficulty entered the town by the breaches, although 
 unopposed ! 
 
 It was now half-past two o'clock in the morning, and the 
 fighting had continued, without cessation, from ten the preced- 
 ing night. More than 350 officers and 4000 men had falten 
 on our side; yet the enemy's loss was but small in proportion; 
 because, with the exception of the castle, v here the 3d division 
 got fairly amongst them, the French with that tact for which 
 they are so remarkable, got away the moment they found them- 
 selves out-matched. 
 
 Shortly after the last attack at the breaches had failed, and 
 long after the castle had been carried, (although it was not ge- 
 nerally known at the time,) I was occupied with Major Thomp- 
 son of the 74th, (acting-engineer,) in placing some casks of 
 gunpowder under the dam of the Rivellas, in front of San 
 Roque ; when, while leaning on his shoulder, I was struck by a 
 musket-ball in the left breast ; I staggered back, but did not fall, 
 and Thompson, bandaging my breast and shoulder with his 
 handkerchief caused me to be removed inside the ravelin ; but 
 the firing continued with such violence upon this point, that it 
 was long before I could venture out of it. At length, nearly 
 exhausted from loss of blood, and fearing that I might be una- 
 ble to reach the camp if I delayed much longer, I quitted it, 
 accompanied by two sappers of my own corps, (Bray and Mac- 
 go wan,) who supported me as I walked towards the trenches. 
 Bray was wounded in the leg while he tried to cover me from 
 the enemy's fire; but this brave fellow soon recovered, and af- 
 terwards greatly distinguished himself in the battle of th* 
 Pyrenees, by killing a French colonel at the head of his bat- 
 talion. 
 
262 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 By this time the attack of Badajoz was, in effect, finished 
 Some irregular firing was still to be heard as the fugitives hur- 
 rah from street to street towards the Roman bridge leading tG 
 San Christoval, but all resistance might be said to have ceased. 
 An attempt to retake the castle was made in vain ; but the brave 
 Colonel Ridge of the 5th, who had so distinguished himself, 
 lost his life by almost one of the last shots that were fired in this 
 fruitless effort to recover a place which had cost the army the 
 heart's-blood of the third division; and the dawn of the morn- 
 ing of the 7th of April showed to the rest of the army, like a 
 speck in the horizon, the shattered remnant of Picton's invin- 
 cible soldiers, as they stood in a long group upon the ramparts 
 of a spot that by its isolated situation, towering height, and vast 
 strength, seemed not to appertain to the rest of the fortifications, 
 and which the enemy, with their entire disposable force, were 
 unable to retake from the few brave men that now stood tri- 
 umphant upon its lofty battlements. Nevertheless, triumphant 
 and stern as was their attitude, it was not without its alloy, for 
 more than five-sixths of their officers and comrades either lay 
 dead at their feet, or badly wounded in the ditch below them. 
 All their generals, Picton amongst the number, and almost all 
 their colonels, were either killed or wounded; and as they 
 stood to receive the praises of their commander, and the cheers 
 of their equally brave but unfortunate companions in arms, their 
 diminished front and haggard appearance told, with terrible 
 truth, the nature of the conflict in which they had been engaged. 
 
 Early on the morning of the 7th of April, Phillipon and his 
 garrison, which had taken refuge in San Christoval, hoisted the 
 white flag, in token of submission, and from that moment the 
 beautiful and rich town of Badajoz became a scene of plunder 
 and devastation. 
 
 Badajoz, one of the richest and most beautiful towns in the 
 south of Spain, whose inhabitants had witnessed its siege in 
 silent terror for one and twenty days, and who had been shocked 
 by the frightful massacre that had just taken place at its walls, 
 was now about to be plunged into all the horrors that are, un- 
 fortunately, unavoidable upon an enterprise such as a town 
 taken by storm. Scarcely had Count Phillipon and his garri- 
 son commenced their march towards Elvas, when the work of 
 pillage commenced. Some — many indeed — of the good soldiers 
 turned to the ditch of the castle and to the breaches to assist and 
 carry off their wounded companions: but hundreds were neg- 
 lected in the general and absorbing thirst for plunder. 
 
 The appearance of the castle was that of a vast wreck: the 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 26S 
 
 various ladders lying shattered at the i>ase of its walls, the 
 broken piles of arms, and the brave men that lay as they had 
 fallen — many holding their firelocks in their grasp — marked 
 strongly the terrible contest in which they had been engaged, 
 and presented to the eye of a spectator ample food for reflection ; 
 it was not possible to look at those brave men, all of them dead 
 or frightfully maimed, without recollecting what they had been 
 but a few short hours before ; yet those feelings, fortunately per- 
 haps, do not predominate with soldiers, and those sighs, far from 
 exciting reflections of a grave nature, more usually call forth 
 some jocular remark, such as, " that he will have no further oc- 
 casion to draw rations ;" or, "that he has stuck his spoon in the 
 wall and left ofT messing ;" such is the force of habit. 
 
 At the breaches, the light and fourth division soldiers lay in 
 heaps upon each other — a still warm group ; and many of those 
 veterans from whom the vital spark had not yet fled, expired in 
 the arms of the few of their companions who sought to remove 
 them to a place better suited to their miserable condition. But 
 war, whatever its numerous attractions to a young mind may 
 be, is but ill calculated to inspire it with those softer feelings so 
 essential to soothe us in the moment of our distress ; it must not, 
 therefore, be wondered at, that a wish for plunder and enjoyment 
 took the place of humanity, and that hundreds of gallant men 
 w.?re left to perish from neglect. 
 
 A military writer, (Capt. Kincaid,) whose book has been the 
 theme of admiration by all that have read it — and I hope, for 
 their own sakes, that there are few who have not — in speaking 
 of this epoch, says, that three days after the fall of the town he 
 rode towards the Guadiana, and that in passing the verge of the 
 camp of the fifth division, he was surprised and shocked to find 
 two soldiers standing at the door of a small shed ; they made 
 signs to him, and upon examination he found that each had lost 
 a leg ! The surgeon had dressed their wounds on the night of 
 the assault, and although their melancholy and destitute situation 
 was known to hundreds of their companions, who had promised 
 them relief, they were actually famishing within three hundred 
 yards of their own regiment ! ! ! 
 
 Before six o'clock in the morning of the- 7th of April, all 
 organization amongst the assaulting columns had ceased, and a 
 scene of plunder and cruelty, that it would be difficult to find a 
 parallel for, took its place. The army, so fine and effective on 
 the preceding day, was now transformed into a vast band cf 
 brigands, and the rich and beautiful city of Badajoz presented 
 the turbulent aspect that must result from the concourse of nil- 
 
264 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 merous and warlike multitudes, nearly strangers to each other, 
 or known only by the name of the nation to whom they belonged. 
 The horde of vagabonds, Spaniards as well as Portuguese, 
 women as well as men, that now eagerly sought for admission 
 to plunder, nearly augmented the number of brigands to what 
 the assailing army had reckoned the night before; and it may 
 be fairly said that twenty thousand people — armed with full 
 powers to act as they thought fit, and all, or almost all, armed 
 with weapons which could be turned, at the pleasure or caprice 
 of the bearer, for the purpose of enforcing any wish he sought 
 to gratify — were let loose upon the ill-fated inhabitants of this 
 devoted city. These people were under no restraint, had no 
 person to control them, and in a short time got into such an 
 awful state of intoxication that they lost all control over 
 their own actions. What a frightful picture is this of a town 
 carried by storm ! — it is true, nevertheless, and, unfortunately 
 for the sake of humanity, it is necessary, absolutely necessary ; 
 because if such latitude was not allowed to the soldiery, I be- 
 lieve that few fortresses would be carried by assault ; the alter- 
 native is not, however, the less painful. If the reader can for 
 a moment fancy a fine city, containing an immense population, 
 amongst which may be reckoned a proportion of the most beau? 
 tiful women that Andalusia, or perhaps the world, could boasts 
 of, — if he can fancy that population, and those females, left to 
 the mercy of 20,000 infuriated and licentious soldiers for two 
 days and two nights — if, I say, he can fancy this, he can well 
 imagine the horrors that were acted within the walls of Ba- 
 dajoz. 
 
 In the first burst, all the wine and spirit stores were forced 
 open and ransacked from top to bottom ; and it required but a 
 short time for the men to get into that fearful state that was 
 alike dangerous to all — officers or soldiers, or the inhabitants 
 of the city. Casks of the choicest wines and brandy were 
 dragged into the streets, and when the men had drunk as much 
 as they fancied, the heads of the vessels were stove in, or the 
 casks otherwise so broken that the liquor ran about in streams. 
 
 In the town were a number of animals that belonged to the 
 garrison, several hundred sheep, numerous oxen, as likewise 
 many horses ; those were amongst the first taken possession of; 
 and the wealthy occupier of many a house was glad to be al- 
 lowed the employment of conducting them to our camp, as, by 
 doing so, h«J got away from a place where his life was not 
 worth a minute's purchase; but terrible as was this scene, it 
 ras not parole to avoid occasionally laughing, for the conduct 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 265 
 
 teur was generally not alone obliged to drive a herd of cattle, 
 but also to carry the bales of plunder taken by his employers, 
 perhaps from his own house ! — and the stately gravity with 
 which the Spaniard went through his work, dressed in short 
 breeches, frilled shirt, and a hat and plumes that might vie with 
 our eighth Henry, followed, as he was, by our ragamuffin sol- 
 diers with fixed bayonets, presented a scene that would puzzle 
 even Mr. Cruikshank himself to justly delineate. The plun- 
 der so captured was deposited in one camp, and placed under a 
 guard, chiefly composed of the soldiers' wives ! 
 
 The shops were rifled, first by one group, who despoiled 
 them of their most costly articles, then by another, who thought 
 themselves rich in capturing what had been rejected by their 
 predecessors ; then another, and another still, until every ves- 
 tige of property was swept away. A few hours was sufficient 
 for this ; night was fast drawing near, and then a scene took 
 place that has seldom fallen to the lot of any writer to describe. 
 Every insult, every infamy that human invention could torture 
 into language, was practiced. Age as well as youth was alike 
 unrespected, and perhaps not one house, or one female, in this 
 vast town, escaped injury : but war is a terrible engine, and, 
 when once set in movement, it is not possible to calculate when 
 or where it will stop. Happy are those countries that have not 
 been visited by its scourge ; and grateful ought the nation to 
 be that can boast of having a man — I mean the Duke of Wel- 
 lington — that, by his great genius as a general and steel-hardi- 
 ness as a man — because nothing but the latter quality, in which, 
 perhaps, he surpasses all ancient or modern heroes, could have 
 enabled him or his army to remain in the Peninsula one day 
 after the invasion of Portugal by the Prince of Estling, in 1810, 
 has kept the British empire free from such a calamity ; but 
 such a picture of this great man can be but ill-appreciated by 
 the " people," who one day followed the triumphant car of the 
 conqueror of Napoleon's hitherto invincible legions and mar- 
 shals, and whose deafening shouts of applause shook the me- 
 tropolis of Great Britain to its basement story, and who, a few 
 short years afterwards, pelted him with mud in the same streets ! 
 But war, not politics, is the subject of this " Reminiscence," so 
 I shall lay aside the latter and pursue the former. 
 
 The day of the 8th of April was also a fearful one for the 
 inhabitants; the soldiers became reckless, and drank to such an 
 excess, that no person's life, no matter of what rank, or station, 
 or sex, was safe. If they entered a house that had not been 
 emptied of all its furniture or wine, they proceeded to destroy 
 
 23 
 
266 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 it ; or, if it happened to be empty, which was generally the 
 case, they commenced firing at the doors and windows, and not 
 unfrequently at the inmates, or at each other ! They would 
 then sally forth in the streets, and fire at the different church- 
 oells in the steeples, or the pigeons that inhabited the old Moor- 
 ish turrets of the castle ; even the owls were frighted from this 
 place of refuge, and, by their discordant screams, announced 
 to their hearers the great revolution that had taken place near 
 their once peaceful abodes. The soldiei^ then fired upon their 
 own comrades, and many men were killed, in endeavoring to 
 carry away some species of plunder, by the hands of those 
 who, but a few hours before, would have risked their own lives 
 to protect those they now so wantonly sported with : then would 
 they turn upon the already too deeply injured females, and tear 
 from them the trinkets that adorned their necks, fingers, or ears ! 
 and, finally, they would strip them of their wearing apparel. 
 Some, it is said, there were, ruffians of the lowest grade no doubt, 
 who cut the ear-rings out of the females' ears that bore them, 
 when they discovered a band of marauders approaching the un- 
 fortunate beings that were subjected to such brutal treatment, 
 and whom they feared might anticipate them in their infamy ; 
 for here, as in all such disgraceful scenes, " might made right ;" 
 arid the conduct of the soldiers, during the sacking of Badajoz, 
 is a sufficient proof, if such proof be wanting, of the dangers 
 attendant upon any thing where the multitude are allowed to 
 think and act for themselves. 
 
 Hundreds of those fellows took possession of the best ware- 
 houses, and for a time fulfilled the functions of merchants ; those, 
 in their turn, were ejected by a stronger party, who, after a 
 fearful strife and loss of lives, displaced them, and occupied in 
 their stead, and those again were conquered by others, and others 
 more powerful ! and thus was Badajoz circumstanced on the 
 morning of the 8th of April, 1812. It presented a fearful pic- 
 ture of the horrors that are inevitable upon a city carried by 
 assault ; and although it is painful to relate these disgraceful 
 facts, it is essential nevertheless. All writers, no matter how 
 insignificant they may be — and 1 am willing to place myself 
 at the bottom of the list of those persons — should in any detail 
 which may lay claim to historical facts, be extremely cautious 
 that they in no way mislead their readers ; and in any thing 
 that I have ever written, or may hereafter write, I shall not de- 
 viate from this principle. I feel as much pride as any man 
 can feel in having taken a part in actions that must ever shed 
 luster upon my country; but no false feeling of delicacy shall 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 267 
 
 ever prevent me from speaking the truth — no matter whether 
 it touches the conduct of one man or ten thousand ! 
 
 To put a stop to such a frightful scene, it was necessary to 
 use some forbearance, as likewise a portion of severity. In 
 the first instance, parties from those regiments that had least 
 participated in the combat were ordered into the town to co. 
 lect the hordes of stragglers that filled its streets with crimes 
 too horrible to detail, but the evil had spread to such an extent 
 that this measure was inadequate to the end proposed, and in 
 many instances the parties so sent became infected by the con- 
 tagion, and in place of remedying the disorder, increased it, by 
 joining once more in revels they had for a time quitted. At 
 length, a brigade of troops was marched into the city, and were 
 directed to stand by their arms while any of the marauders re- 
 mained ; the provost-marshals attached to each division were 
 directed to use that authority with which they are of necessity 
 invested. Gibbets and triangles were in consequence, erected, 
 and many men were flogged, but, although the contrary has 
 been said, none were hanged — although hundreds deserved it. 
 
 A few hours, so employed, were sufficient to purge the town 
 of the infamous gang of robbers that still lurked about its streets, 
 and those ruffians — chiefly Spaniards or Portuguese, not in 
 any way attached to the army — were infinitely more dangerous 
 than our fellows, bad as they were. Murder — except, indeed, 
 in a paroxysm of drunkenness, and in many cases, I regret to 
 say, it did occur in this way — never entered their thoughts, 
 but the infamous miscreants here referred to would commit the 
 foulest deeds for less than a dollar. 
 
 Towards evening tranquillity began to return, and protected 
 as they now were by a body of troops, untainted by the disease 
 which had spread like a contagion, the unfortunate inhabitants 
 took advantage of the quiet that reigned; yet it was a fearful 
 quiet, and might be likened to a ship at sea, which, after having 
 been plundered and dismasted by pirates, was left floating on 
 the ocean without a morsel of food to supply the wants of its 
 crew, or a stitch of canvas to cover its naked masts ; by degrees, 
 however, some clothing, such as decency required, was procured 
 for the females, by the return of their friends to the town ; and 
 many a father and mother rejoiced to find their children, who 
 were still dearer to them than ever from the dangers they had 
 escaped alive, although it was impossible to hide from them the 
 fact that they had been seriously and grossly injured. But there 
 were also many who were denied even this sad consolation, for 
 numbers of the towns-people had fallen in the confusion tha 
 
206 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 prevailed. Some of our officers also were killed in this way, and 
 it has been said, I believe truly, that one or two, one a colonel 
 commanding a regiment, lost their lives by the hands of their 
 own men. These calamities are, however, the unavoidable 
 attendants on war ; and a great victory, gratifying as it unques- 
 tionably is to the general who achieves it, is not without its 
 alloy, and brings forcibly to my recollection the fine reply of 
 the Duke of Wellington after the battle of Waterloo, to a lady 
 of great literary celebrity in Paris. This lady was amongst 
 the many French who were at a ball given at the time the al- 
 lied armies occupied Paris in 1815. She was most pointed in 
 her attentions to the duke, and devoted almost her entire con- 
 versation to him in preference to the two emperors, the King 
 of Prussia, or the other distinguished allied generals. " My 
 lord," said she, in the course of the conversation, " do you not 
 think the gaining of a great battle a delightful thing?" " Ne 
 pensez vous pas, qrfune grande victoire est la plus agr table de 
 toutes choses?" "Madam," replied the duke, with a degree 
 of coldness bordering on austerity, " I look upon it as the 
 greatest calamity — except losing one!" " Je la regarde 
 comme le plus grand malheur — excepte une defaite /" It was a 
 fine saying, and worthy of him that uttered it ; yet this same 
 man has been represented as one devoid of feeling ! 
 
 The plunder with which our camp was now filled was so 
 considerable, and of so varied a description, that numerous as 
 were the purchasers, and different their wants, they all had, 
 nevertheless, an opportunity of suiting themselves to their taste; 
 still the sale had not commenced in form, although, like other 
 markets, " some private sales were effected." 
 
 Early on the morning of the 9th of April, a great concourse 
 of Spaniards had already thronged our lines ; the neighboring 
 villages poured in their quota of persons seeking to be the pur- 
 chasers of the booty captured by our men, and each succeeding 
 hour increased the supply for their wants, numerous *uid va- 
 ried as they were, and our camp presented the appearance of a 
 vast market. The scene after the taking of Rodrigo was no- 
 thing in comparison to the present, because the resources of 
 Badajoz might be said to be in the ratio of five to one as com- 
 pared with her sister fortress, and, besides, our fellows were, in 
 an equal proportion, more dexterous than they had been in their 
 maiden effort to relieve Rodrigo of its valuables. It may, there- 
 fore, be well supposed, and the reader may safely take my word 
 for it, that the transfer of property was, on the present occasion, 
 considerable. Some men realized upwards of a thousand dollars. 
 
HISTJRICAL CABINET. 269 
 
 (about 250Z.) others less, but all, or almost all, gained hand- 
 somely by an enterprise in which they had displayed such un- 
 heard-of acts of devotion and bravery ; and it is only to be 
 lamented that they tarnished laurels so nobly won by traits of 
 barbarity that it would be difficult to find a parallel for in the 
 annals of any army. But such atrocities are ever the attend- 
 ants upon any thing where those, hitherto dependant upon their 
 superiors, whose station in society enables them to be the most 
 competent judges of what is proper, are allowed to think and 
 act for themselves ; and a licentious army, although not by the 
 half so bad as a licentious mob, is nevertheless a terrible scourge. 
 The sale of the different commodities went on rapidly, notwith- 
 standing we had no auctioneers; there was "king's duty,". but, 
 most undeniably, if the Spaniards paid no " king's duty," they 
 paid the piper ! While the diverse articles were carried away 
 by the purchasers, the wounded were carrying away to the hos- 
 pitals and camp, and the lamentations of w the women for their 
 dead or wounded husbands was a striking contrast to the scene 
 of gayety which almost every where prevailed. 
 
 STORMING OF ST. SEBASTIAN. 
 
 The town of St. Sebastian occupies a neck of land which 
 juts into the sea, being washed on two sides by the waters of 
 the Bay of Biscay, and on a third by the River Gurumea. 
 This stream, though insufficient in respect of width, cannot be 
 forded, at least near the town, except at the time of low tide, 
 it therefore adds not a little to the general strength of the place 
 But the strength of the place consists far more in the great 
 regularity and solidity of its fortifications, than in its natural 
 situation. Across the isthmus, from the river to the bay, is 
 erected a chain of stupendous masonry, consisting of several 
 bastions and towers, connected by a well sheltered curtain, and 
 covered by a ditch and glacis, whilst the castle, built upon a 
 high hill, completely commands the whole, and seems to hold 
 the town, and every thing in it, entirely at its mercy. 
 
 The governor of St. Sebastian's was evidently a man of 
 great energy of mind, and of very considerable military talent. 
 Every thing which could be done to retard the progress of the 
 siege, he had attempted ; the breach which had been effected 
 previous to the first assault, was now almost entirely filled up, 
 whilst many new works were erected, and what was not, pep- 
 
 23* 
 
270 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 haps, in strict accordance with the rules of modern warfare, they 
 vere erected by British prisoners. We could distinctly see 
 these poor fellows laboring at their task in full regimentals, and 
 the consequence was, that they were permitted to labor on with- 
 out a single gun being turned against them. Nor was this all 
 that was done to annoy the assailants — night after night petty 
 sorties were made, with no other apparent design than to dis- 
 turb the repose, and to harass the spirits, of the besiegers ; for 
 the attacking party seldom attempted to advance farther than 
 the first parallel, and it was uniformly beaten back by the 
 piquets and reserve. 
 
 During the last ten days, the besieging army had been busi- 
 ly employed in bringing up ammunition, and in dragging into 
 battery one of the most splendid trains of heavy ordnance which 
 a British general has ever had at his command. On the even- 
 ing of the 26th, these matters were completed ; no fewer than 
 sixty pieces of artillery, some of them sixty-four, and none of 
 lighter metal than eighteen pounders, were mounted against 
 the town, whilst twenty mortars of different caliber prepared to 
 scatter death among its defenders, and bid fair to reduce the 
 place itself to a heap of ruins. 
 
 These arrangements being completed, it was deemed prudent, 
 previous to the opening of the batteries, to deprive the enemy 
 of a little redoubt which stood upon an island in the harbor, 
 and in some degree enfiladed the trenches. For this service, 
 a detachment, consisting of a hundred men, a captain, and two 
 subalterns, were allotted, who, filing from the camp soon after 
 night-fall, embarked in the boats of the cruizers ; here they 
 were joined by a few seamen and marines, under the command 
 of a naval officer, and having made good their landing under 
 cover of darkness, they advanced briskly to the assault. The 
 enemy were taken completely by surprise — only a few shots 
 were fired on either side, and in the space of five minutes, the 
 small fort, mounting four guns, with an officer and thirty men 
 as its garrison surrendered, or rather were taken possession of 
 by the assailants. 
 
 So trifling, indeed, was the resistance offered by the French 
 garrison, that it disturbed not the slumbers of the troops in 
 camp. The night of the 26th, accordingly, passed by in quiet, 
 but as soon as the morning of the 27th dawned, affairs assum- 
 ed a very different appearance. Soon after daybreak, a single 
 shell was thrown from the heights on the right of the town, 
 as a signal for the batteries to open, and then a most tremen- 
 dous cannonade began. The first salvo, indeed, was one of the 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 271 
 
 finest things of the kind I ever witnessed. Without *akiiig the 
 trouble to remove the slight covering of sand and ;urf which 
 masked the batteries, the artillerymen, laying their guns by 
 such observation as small apertures left for the purpose enabled 
 them to effect, fired, upon the given signal, and thus caused the 
 guns to clear a way for themselves in their future discharges; 
 nor were these tardy in occurring. So rapid, indeed, were 
 the gunners in their movements, and so unintermitting the fire 
 which they kept up from morning till night, during the whole 
 of the 27th, the 28th, the 29th, and 30th, that by sun-set on the 
 latter day, not only was the old breach reduced to its former 
 dilapidated condition, but a new, and a far more promising breach 
 was effected. 
 
 In the mean time, however, the enemy had not been remiss 
 in their endeavors to silence the fire of the besiegers, and to 
 dismount their guns. They had, indeed, exercised their artil- 
 lery with so much good-will, that most of the cannon found in 
 the place, after its capture, were unserviceable ; being melted 
 at the touch-holes, or otherwise damaged from too frequent use. 
 But they fought, on the present occasion, under every imagin- 
 able disadvantage ; for, not only was our artillery much more 
 than a match for theirs, but our advanced trenches were lined 
 with troops, who kept up an incessant and deadly fire of mus- 
 ketry upon the embrasures. The consequence was, that the 
 fire from the town became every hour more and more intermit- 
 ted, till, long before mid-day, on the 28th, the garrison attempt- 
 ed no further resistance, than by the occasional discharge of a 
 mortar from beneath the ramparts. 
 
 I have said that by sun-set on the 29th, the outer breach was 
 reduced to its former dilapidated state, and a new and a more 
 promising one effected. It will be necessary to describe, with 
 greater accuracy than I have yet done, the situation and actual 
 state of these breaches. 
 
 The point selected by Sir Thomas Graham as most exposed, 
 and offering the best mark to his breaching artillery, was that 
 side of the town which looked towards the, river. Here there 
 was no ditch, nor any glacis, the waters of the Gurumea flow- 
 ing so close to the foot of the wall, as to render the one useless, 
 and the other impracticable. The rampart itself was consequent- 
 ly bare to the fire of our batteries, and as it rose to a considerable 
 height, perhaps twenty or thirty feet above the plain, there was 
 every probability of its soon giving way to the shots of the bat- 
 tering guns. But the consistency of that wall is hardly to bo 
 imagined by those who never beheld it. It seemed, indeed, as 
 
5272 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 if it were formed of one solid rock, and hence, the breach, 
 which, to the eye of one who examined it only from without 
 appeared at once capacious and easy of ascent, proved, when 
 attacked, to be no more than a partial dilapidation of the exte- 
 rior face of the masonry. Nor was this all. The rampart 
 gave way, not in numerous small fragments, such as might af- 
 ford a safe and easy footing to those who were to ascend, but 
 m huge masses, which, rolling down like crags from the face 
 of a precipice, served to impede the advance of the column, 
 almost as effectually as if they had not fallen at all. The {wo 
 breaches were about a stone' s-throw apart, the one from the 
 other. Both were commanded by the guns of the castle, and 
 both were flanked by projections in the town wall. Yet such 
 was the path by which our troops must proceed, if any attempt 
 should be made to carry the place by assault. 
 
 That this attempt would be made, and that it certainly would 
 be made on the morrow, every man in the camp was perfectly 
 aware. The tide promised to answer about noon ; and noon 
 was accordingly fixed upon as the time of attack, and the ques- 
 tion, therefore, was, who by the morrow's noon would be alive, 
 and who would not. Whilst this surmise very naturally occu- 
 pied the minds of the troops in general, a few more daring 
 spirits were at work, devising means for furthering the intended 
 assault, and securing its success. Conspicuous among these, 
 was Major Snodgrass, an officer belonging to the 52d British 
 regiment, but who commanded on the present occasion, a bat- 
 talion of Portuguese. Up to the present night, only one ford, 
 and that at some little distance from both breaches, had been 
 discovered. By examining the stream, as minutely as it could 
 be examined by a telescope, and from a distance, Major Snod- 
 grass had conceived the idea, that there must be another ford, 
 so far above the one already known, as to carry those who 
 should cross by it, at once to the foot of the smaller breach. 
 Though the moon was in her first quarter, and gave a very 
 considerable light, he devoted the whole of the night of the 
 29th to a personal trial of the river; and he found it, as he ex- 
 pected to find it, fordable at low water, immediately opposite to 
 the smaller breach. By this ford he accordingly crossed, the 
 water reaching somewhat above his waist. Nor was he con- 
 tented with having ascertained this fact ; he clambered up the 
 face of the breach at midnight, gained its summit, and looked 
 down upon the town. How he contrived to elude the vigilance 
 of the French sentinels I know not ; but that he did elude 
 ftiem, and that he performed the gallant act which I have just 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 273 
 
 recorded, is familiarly known to all who were at the siege of 
 St. Sebastian's. 
 
 So passed the night of the 30th, a night of deep anxiety to 
 many, and of high excitement to all ; and many a will was made, 
 as soldiers make their wills, before morning. About an hour 
 before day, the troops were, as usual under arms, and then the 
 final orders were given for the assault. The division was to 
 enter the trenches about ten o'clock, in what is called light 
 marching order ; that is, leaving their knapsacks, blankets. &c, 
 behind, and carrying with them only their arms and ammuni- 
 tion ; and the forlorn hope was to prepare to move forward, as 
 soon as the tide should appear sufficiently low to permit their 
 crossing the river. This post was assigned to certain detach- 
 ments of volunteers, who had come down from the various 
 divisions of the main army, for the purpose of assisting in the 
 assault of the place. These were to be followed by the 1st, or 
 royal regiment of foot ; that by the 4th ; that by the 9th, and it 
 again by the 47th ; whilst several corps of Portuguese were to 
 remain behind as a reserve, and to act as circumstances should 
 require, for the support or cover of the assailing brigades. 
 Such were the orders issued at daybreak on the 30th of August, 
 and these orders, all who heard them cheerfully prepared to 
 obey. 
 
 It is a curious fact, but it is a fact, that the morning of the 
 SI st rose darkly and gloomily, as if the elements themselves 
 had been aware of the approaching conflict, and were determin- 
 ed to add to its awfulness by their disorder. A close and op- 
 pressive heat pervaded the atmosphere, whilst lowering and 
 sulphureous clouds covered the face of the sky, and hindered 
 the sun from darting upon us one intervening ray, from morn- 
 ing till night. A sort of preternatural stillness, too, was in 
 the air ; the birds were silent in the groves ; the very dogs and 
 horses in the camp, and cattle besides, gazed in apparent alarm 
 about them. As the day passed on, and the hour of attack 
 drew near, the clouds gradually collected into one black mass, 
 directly over the devoted city; and almost at the instant when 
 our troops began to march into the trenches, the storm burst 
 forth. Still, it was comparatively mild in its effects. An occa- 
 sional flash of lightning, succeeded by a burst of thunder, was 
 all of it which we felt, though this was enough to divert our 
 attention. 
 
 The forlorn hope took its station at the mouth of the most 
 advanced trench, about half-past ten o'clock. The tide which 
 had long turned, was now fast ebbing, and these gallant fel- 
 
274 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 lows beheld its departure with a degree of feverish anxiety 
 such as he onlv can imagine, who has stood in a similar situa< 
 tion. This was the first time that a town was stormed by day- 
 light since the commencement of the war, and the storming 
 party were enabled distinctly to perceive the preparations which 
 were making for their reception. There was, therefore, some- 
 thing, not only interesting but novel, in beholding the muzzles 
 of the enemy's cannon, from the castle and other batteries, turn- 
 ed in such a direction as to flank the breaches ; whilst the glan- 
 cing of bayonets, and the occasional rise of caps and feathers, 
 gave notice of the line of infantry which was forming under- 
 neath the parapet. There an officer could, from time to time, 
 be distinguished, leaning his telescope over the top of the ram- 
 part, or through the opening of an embrasure, prying with deep 
 attention into our arrangements. 
 
 Nor were our own officers, particularly those of the engi- 
 neers, idle. With the greatest coolness they exposed them- 
 selves to a dropping fire of musketry which the enemy at in- 
 tervals kept up, whilst they examined and re-examined the state 
 of the breaches, a procedure which cost the life of as brave 
 and experienced a soldier as that distinguished corps has pro- 
 duced. I allude to Sir Richard Fletcher, chief engineer to the 
 army, who was shot through the head only a few minutes be- 
 fore the column advanced to the assault. 
 
 It would be difficult to convey to the mind of an ordinary 
 reader any thing like a correct notion of the state of feeling 
 which takes possession of a man waiting for the commence- 
 ment of a battle. In the first place, time appears to move upon 
 leaden wings ; every minute seems an hour, and every hour a 
 day. Then there is a strange commingling of levity and se- 
 riousness within him, a levity which prompts him to laugh, he 
 scarce knows why ; and a seriousness which urges him ever 
 and anon to lift up a mental prayer to the Throne of Grace. 
 On such occasions, little or no conversation passes. The pri- 
 vates generally lean upon their fire-locks, the officers upon their 
 swords ; and few words, except monosyllables, at least in an- 
 swer to questions put, are wasted. On these occasions, too, the 
 faces of the bravest often change color, and the limbs of the 
 most resolute tremble, not with fear, but with anxiety ; whilst 
 watches are consulted, till the individuals who consult them 
 grow absolutely weary of the employment. On the whole, it 
 is a situation of higher excitement, and darker and deeper agi- 
 tation, than any other in human life : nor can he be said to have 
 felt all which man is capable of feeling who has not filled it 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 275 
 
 Noon had barely passed, when the low state of the tide giv 
 ing evidence that the river might be forded, the word was given 
 to advance. Silent as the grave, the column moved forward. 
 In one instant the leading files had cleared the trenches, and 
 the others poured on in quick succession after them, when the 
 work of death began. The enemy having reserved their fire 
 till the head of the column had gained the middle of the stream, 
 then opened with the most deadly effect. Grape, canister, 
 musketry, shells, grenades, and every species of missile, were 
 hurled from the ramparts, beneath which our gallant fellows 
 dropped like corn before the reaper; insomuch that in the 
 space of two minutes the river was literally chocked up with 
 the bodies of the killed and wounded, over whom, without dis- 
 crimination, the advancing divisions pressed on. 
 
 The opposite bank was soon gained, and the short space 
 between the landing-place and the foot of the breach rapidly 
 cleared, without a single shot having been returned by the as- 
 sailants. But here the most alarming prospect awaited them. 
 Instead of a wide and tolerably level chasm, the breach pre- 
 sented the appearance only of an ill-built wall, thrown consider- 
 ably from its perpendicular; to ascend which, even though 
 unopposed, would be no easy task. It was, however, too late to 
 pause ; besides men's blood was hot, and their courage on fire ; 
 so they pressed on, clambering up as they best could, and effect- 
 ually hindering one another from falling back, by the eager- 
 ness of the rear-ranks to follow those in front. Shouts and 
 groans were now mingled with the roar of cannons and the 
 rattle of musketry ; our front ranks likewise had an opportuni 
 ty of occasionally firing with effect ; and the slaughter on both 
 sides was dreadful. 
 
 At length the head of the column forced its way to the sum- 
 mit of the breach ; where it was met in the most gallant style 
 by the bayonets of the garrison. When I say the summit of 
 the breach, I mean not to assert that our soldiers stood upon a 
 level with their enemies ; for this was not the case. There 
 was a high step, perhaps two or three feet in length, which 
 the assailants must surmount before they could gain the same 
 ground with the defenders, and a very considerable period elap- 
 sed ere that step was surmounted. Here bayonet met bayonet, 
 and saber met saber, in close and desperate strife, without the 
 one party being able to advance, or the other succeeding in 
 driving them back. 
 
 Things had continued in this state for nearly a quarter of an 
 hour, when Major Snodgrass, at the head of the 13th Portu- 
 20 
 
276 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 guese regiment, dashed across the river by his own ford, and 
 assaulted the lesser breach. This attack was made in the most 
 cool and determined manner ; but here, too, the obstacles were 
 almost insurmountable ; nor is it probable that the place would 
 have been carried at all, but for a measure adopted by General 
 Graham, such as has never perhaps been adopted before. Per- 
 ceiving that matters were almost desperate, he had recourse to 
 a desperate remedy, and ordered our own artillery to fire upon 
 the breach. Nothing could be more exact or beautiful than this 
 practice. Though our men stood only about two feet below the 
 breach, scarcely a single ball from the guns of our batteries 
 struck amongst them, whilst all told with fearful exactness 
 among the enemy. 
 
 This fire had been kept up only a very few minutes, when 
 all at once an explosion took place, such as drowned every 
 other noise, and apparently confounded, for an instant, the com- 
 batants on both sides. A shell from one of our mortars had 
 exploded near the train, which communicated with a quantity 
 of gunpowder, placed under the breach. This mine the French 
 had intended to spring as soon as our troops should have made 
 good their footing, or established themselves on the summit ; 
 but the fortunate accident just mentioned, anticipated them. It 
 exploded whilst three hundred grenadiers, the elite of the gar- 
 rison, stood over it, and instead of sweeping the storming par- 
 ty into eternity, it only cleared a way for their advance. It was 
 a spectacle as appalling and grand as the imagination can corv- 
 ceive, — the sight of that explosion. The noise was more aw- 
 ful than any which I have ever heard before or since ; whilst a 
 bright flash, instantly succeeded by a smoke so dense, as to ob- 
 scure all vision, produced an effect upon those who witnessed 
 it, such as no powers of language are adequate to describe. 
 Such, indeed, was the effect of the whole occurrence, that for 
 perhaps a half a minute after, not a shot was fired on either side. 
 Both parties stood still to gaze upon the havoc which had been 
 produced ; insomuch, that a whisper might have caught your 
 ear for a distance of several yards. 
 
 The state of stupefaction into which they were at first thrown, 
 did not, however, last long with the British troops. As the 
 smoke and dust of the ruins cleared away, they beheld before 
 them a space empty of defenders, and they instantly rushed 
 forward to occupy it. Uttering an appalling shout, the troops 
 sprung over the dilapidated parapet, and the rampart was their 
 own. Now then began all those maddening scenes, which are 
 witnessed only in a successful storm, of flight, and slaughter, 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 277 
 
 *nd parties rallying only to be broken and dispersed ; till, final- 
 ly, having cleared the works to the right and left, the soldiers 
 poured down into the town. 
 
 To reach the streets, they were obliged to leap about fifteen 
 feet, or to make their way through the burning houses which 
 joined the wall. Both courses were adopted, according as dif- 
 ferent parties were guided in their pursuit of the flying enemy, 
 and here again the battle was renewed. The French fought 
 with desperate courage ; they were literally driven from house 
 to house, and street to street, nor was it till a late hour in the 
 evening that all opposition on their part ceased. Then, how- 
 ever, the governor with little more than a thousand men, retired 
 into the castle; whilst another detachment, of perhaps two 
 hundred, shut themselves up in a convent. 
 
 As soon as the fighting began to wax faint, the horrors of 
 plunder and rapine succeeded. Fortunately, there were few 
 females in the place ; but of the fate of the few which were 
 there, I cannot even now think without a shudder. The houses 
 were every where ransacked, the furniture wantonly broken, 
 the churches profaned, the images dashed to pieces ; wine and 
 spirit cellars were broken open, and the troops, heated already 
 with angry passions, became absolutely mad by intoxication. 
 All order ana discipline were abandoned. The officers had no 
 longer the slightest control over their men, who, on the contra- 
 ry, controlled the officers ; nor is it by any means certain, that 
 several of the latter did not fall by the hands of the former, 
 when they vainly attempted to bring them back to a sense of 
 subordination. 
 
 Night had now set in, but the Qarkness was effectually dis- 
 pelled by the glare from burning houses, which, one after ano- 
 ther, took fire. The morning of the 31st had risen upon St. 
 Sebastian's, as neat and regularly built a town as any in Spain ; 
 long before midnight, it was one sheet of flame ; and by noon 
 on the following day, little remained of it, except its smoking 
 ashes. The houses, being lofty like those in the old town of 
 Edinburgh, and the streets straight and narrow, the fire flew 
 from one to another with extraordinary rapidity. At first, some 
 attempts were made to extinguish it ; but these soon proved 
 useless, and then the only matter to be considered, was, how 
 personally to escape its violence. Many a migration was ac- 
 cordingly effected from house to house, till, at last, houses 
 enough to shelter all could no longer be found, and the streets 
 became the place of rest to the majority. 
 
 The spectacle which then presented was truly shocking. A 
 
 24 
 
278 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 strong light falling upon them from the burning houses, dis* 
 closed crowds of dead, dying, and intoxicated men, huddled in- 
 discriminately together. Carpets, rich tapestry, beds, curtains, 
 wearing apparel, and every thing valuable to persons in com- 
 mon life, were carelessly scattered about upon the bloody pave- 
 ment, whilst ever and anon fresh bundles of these were thrown 
 from the windows above. Here you would see a drunken fel- 
 low whirling a string of watches round his head, and then 
 dashing them against the wall ; there another more provident, 
 stuffing his bosom with such smaller articles as he most prized. 
 Next would come a party rolling a cask of Avine or spirits be- 
 fore them, with loud acclamations ; which in an instant was 
 tapped, and in an incredible short space of time emptied of its 
 contents. Then the ceaseless hum of conversation, the occa- 
 sional laugh, and wild shout of intoxication, the pitiable cries, 
 or deep moans of the wounded, and the unintermitted roar of 
 the flames, produced altogether such a concert, as no man who 
 listened to it can ever forget. 
 
 Of these various noises, the greater number now began to 
 subside, as night passed on ; and long before dawn there was 
 a fearful silence. Sleep had succeeded inebriety with the bulk 
 of the army — of the poor wretches who groaned and shrieked 
 three hours ago, many had expired ; and the very fire had al- 
 most wasted itself by consuming every thing upon which it 
 could feed. Nothing, therefore, could now be heard, except an 
 occasional faint moan, scarcely distinguishable from the heavy 
 breathing of the sleepers ; and even that was soon heard no 
 more. 
 
 THE BURNING OF MOSCOW. 
 
 We distinguished at a distance, and amidst the dust, long 
 columns of Russian cavalry, all marching towards Moscow, 
 and all retiring behind the town, as soon as we approached it. 
 While the fourth corps was constructing a bridge across the 
 Moskwa, the staff, about two o'clock, established itself on a 
 lofty hill, whence we perceived a thousand elegant and gilded 
 steeples, which, glittering in the rays of the sun, appeared at 
 the distance, like so many flaming globes. One of these globes, 
 placed on the summit of a pillar, or an obelisk, had the exact 
 appearance of. a balloon suspended in the air. Transported 
 with delight at this beautiful spectacle, which was more gratify* 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 279 
 
 ing, from Go remembrance of the melancholy objects which 
 we had hitherto seen, we could not suppress our joy ; but, with 
 one spontaneous movement, we all exclaimed, Moscow ! Mos- 
 cow ! At the sound of this wished-for name, the soldiers ran 
 up the hill in crowds, and each discovered new wonders every 
 instant. One admired a noble chateau on our left, the elegant 
 architecture of which displayed more than eastern magnifi- 
 cence ; another directed his attention towards a palace or a tem- 
 ple ; but all were struck with the superb picture which this im- 
 mense town afforded. It is situated in the midst of a fertile 
 plain. The Moskvva is seen meandering through the richest 
 meadows ; and, after having fertilized the neighboring country, 
 takes its course through the middle of the town, separating an 
 immense cluster of houses, built of wood, stone, and bricks, 
 constructed in a style which partakes of the gothic and modern 
 architecture, and in which, indeed, the architecture of every 
 different nation is strangely mingled. The walls variously 
 painted, the domes covered with lead, or slates, or glittering 
 with gold, offered the most pleasing variety ; whilst the terraces 
 before the palaces, the obelisks over the gates, and above all, 
 the steeples, really presented to our eyes one of those cele- 
 brated cities of Asia, which we had thought only existed in 
 the creative imagination of the Arabian poets. 
 
 We were still contemplating this noble spectacle, when we 
 saw a well-dressed man coming towards us, through a by-way 
 from Moscow. Several of our soldiers immediately ran to meet 
 him, and, viewing him with suspicion, were disposed to make 
 him pay dearly for his imprudent curiosity. But the calmness 
 with Avhich he addressed us, and the fluency with which he 
 spoke our language, and, above all, our impatience to hear some 
 tidings from Moscow, made us all listen to him with pleasure 
 and interest. 
 
 " I am not come here," said he, " to observe your maneu- 
 vers, nor give you false information : I am an unfortunate 
 merchant, ignorant of every thing which relates to war ; and, 
 notwithstanding I am the victim, I have not inquired into the 
 motives which have induced our sovereigns to engage in this 
 fatal contest. Your emperor to-day, about noon, entered Mos- 
 cow, at the head of his invincible legions ; but he found only 
 a deserted town. Some wretches, who have escaped from pri- 
 son, and some miserable prostitutes, were the only creatures 
 who interrupted its solitude. Hasten if possible, to stop their 
 excesses. Liberty has only been granted them, with the hope 
 that all the crimes which they may commit will be attributed 
 
280 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 to the French army. Being aware of the misfortunes which 
 threaten us, I came to find among you a man sufficiently 
 generous to protect my family ; for, in spite of the orders of 
 our government, I cannot consent to abandon my house, and to 
 lead a wandering, miserable life in the woods. I prefer ap- 
 plying to French generosity, and I trust that I shall find a pro- 
 tector among those who have been ever represented to us as 
 our most cruel enemies. The great men of our empire, de- 
 ceived by a savage and destructive policy, will doubtless attempt 
 to irritate you, by causing the whole population to emigrate, 
 and leaving nothing but a deserted city, if indeed it is not already 
 sacrificed to the flames." Every one interrupted him, saying, 
 that it was impossible any people would thus effect their own 
 ruin, from the uncertain hope of involving their enemy in it. 
 
 " It is but too true that such a resolution is taken," said this 
 unhappy man ; " and, if you yet doubt it, know that count Ras- 
 topchin, governor of Moscow, quitted it yesterday. Before he 
 departed, he charged the very outcast of human beings to assist 
 him in his revenge. How far he will proceed I know not j 
 but I tremble when I recollect that he has often threatened to 
 burn Moscow, if the French should approach it. Such bar- 
 barity must seem atrocious and even incredible to you, if you 
 are not aware of the deadly hatred which your unheard of 
 victories have inspired in the nobility. They know that the 
 whole of Europe is under your domination, and, from a senti- 
 ment of pride, they would destroy their native country, rather 
 than see it subjugated. 
 
 " If the nobility, ashamed of their defeats, had not meditated 
 the destruction of the capital, why should they have fled with 
 all their property ? Why have the merchants likewise been 
 compelled to follow them, carrying with them their goods and 
 their treasures ? Why, lastly have no magistrates remained 
 in this desolate town to implore the mercy of the conqueror ? 
 They have all fled, and thus seem determined to urge your 
 soldiers to every excess ; for the legal authorities, the only pro- 
 tection of the citizens, by abandoning their posts, have aban- 
 doned every thing." 
 
 This unfortunate Moscovite shed many bitter tears while he 
 thus addressed us. To calm his grief, we promised what he 
 requested and endeavored to console him, by dissipating those 
 fears, too well founded, which the dangers of his unhappy 
 country had excited. We questioned him as to the direction 
 in which the Russians had retreated ; what they had done since 
 the battle of the Moskwa, and lastly, what was become of the 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 281 
 
 emperor Alexander and his brother Constantine? He an- 
 swered all our questions in the most satisfactory manner, and 
 confirmed the intelligence which had been already communi- 
 cated to me by the friar in Zwenighorod. This unhappy man 
 becoming- more composed, and being secretly nattered by the 
 agreeable surprise which the sight of Moscow and its environs 
 had caused, consented at my request to give us some account 
 of a city, the conquest of which promised to crown all our 
 hopes. He expressed himself as follows : 
 
 " Moscow, built in the Asiatic style, has five inclosures, one 
 within another ; the last, comprising the town and its suburbs, 
 is about thirty werstes in circumference ; but the fourth inclo- 
 sure, which comprises the town only, and which is called Sem- 
 laingorod, is but twelve. The suburbs, or slobodes, are thirty 
 in number. In winter, the population amounts to three hun- 
 dred thousand souls, but on the approach of summer, every one 
 retires to his country-house, and this number diminishes one 
 third. 
 
 " The high towers and the embattled walls, which you see 
 rising in the midst of the town, trace the first inclosure, called 
 Kremlin. This fortress, in the form of a perfect triangle, is 
 celebrated in our annals, and has never been taken. The plan 
 of it was drawn, towards the fourteenth century, by some Ita- 
 lian architects. The interior of the Kremlin is divided into two 
 parts; the one called Krepots, or citadel, contains only the 
 palace and some churches, each of which is surmounted by five 
 domes. From this place you may perfectly distinguish them, 
 as much by their elevation as by the gilding of the steeples, 
 and their fantastical architecture. In the second inclosure are 
 some noble houses, commercial streets, and the place called 
 Bazar, or Khitaigorod, a name given it by the Tartars, who 
 were its founders. 
 
 " You will find in my country," added the Moscovite, " a 
 great number of edifices, justly celebrated as the most beautiful 
 in Europe. It is useless to describe them to you, since you 
 will soon see them yourselves. I wish that you may long 
 admire them, but a fatal presentment convinces me, that the 
 great and superb town, justly considered as the market of 
 Europe and of Asia, will, ere long, astonish the world with 
 the most dreadful catastrophe." 
 
 As he uttered these words, the unfortunate man seemed suf- 
 focated with grief. I pitied him ; but I could not ieave him 
 without asking the name of that great building, of red and 
 white brick, which was seen to the north of the town, on the 
 
 24* 
 
282 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 road to Petersburgh. He informed me, that it was the famous 
 chateau of Peterskoe, where the sovereigns of Russia used to 
 reside previous to their coronation. 
 
 Although the bridge over the Moskwa was not yet finished, 
 che viceroy ordered the troops of his corps to cross the river. 
 The cavalry had already passed it, and had taken post before 
 the village of Khorchevo. We were here officially informed of 
 the entry of our troops into Moscow. The fourth corps received 
 orders to halt at this place till the following day, when an hour 
 would be appointed for us to enter the capital of the Russian 
 empire. 
 
 On the 15th of September, our corps left the village, where it 
 had encamped, at an early hour, and marched to Moscow. As 
 we approached the city, we saw that it had no walls, and that 
 a simple parapet of earth was the only work which constituted 
 the outer inclosure. Nothing indicated that the town was in- 
 habited ; and the road by which we arrived was so deserted 
 that we saw neither Russian nor even French soldiers. N« 
 cry, no noise was heard, in the midst of this awful solitude 
 We pursued our march, a prey to the utmost anxiety, and that 
 anxiety was redoubled when we perceived a thick smoke, which 
 arose in the form of a column, from the center of the town. It 
 was first believed that the Russians, agreeably to their custom, 
 had, in retreating, set fire to some magazines. Recollecting, 
 however, the recital of the inhabitant of Moscow, we feared that 
 his prediction was about to be fulfilled. Eager to know the 
 cause of this conflagration, we in vain endeavored to find some 
 one who might satisfy our irrepressible curiosity, and the im- 
 possibility of satisfying it, increased our impatience and aug- 
 mented our alarm. 
 
 We did not enter at the first barrier that presented itself, but 
 moving to the left, we continued to march round the town. At 
 length, according to the orders of the viceroy, I placed the 
 troops of the fourth corps in a position to guard the high road 
 towards Petersburgh. The thirteenth and fifteenth division en- 
 camped around the chateau of Peterskoe, the fourteenth estab- 
 lished itself in the village between Moscow and this chateau, 
 and the Bavarian light cavalry was a league in front of the 
 village. 
 
 When these positions were taken, the viceroy entered Mos- 
 cow, and fixed his head quarters in the palace of Prince Mo- 
 monofT, in the beautiful street of St. Petersburgh. The quarter 
 assigned to our corps was one of the finest in the town. It was 
 composed entirely of superb edifices, and of houses, which al- 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 283 
 
 though of wood, had an appearance of surprising grandeur and 
 magnificence. The magistrates having abandoned the town, 
 every one established himself at his pleasure in these sumptuous 
 palaces ; even the subaltern officer was lodged in vast apart- 
 ments, richly decorated, and of which he could easHy fancy 
 himself to be the proprietor, since no one appeared but a hum- 
 ble and submissive porter, who, with a trembling hand, deliv- 
 ered to him the keys of the mansion. 
 
 Although Moscow had been entered by some of our troops the 
 preceding day, so extensive and so deserted was the town, that 
 no soldier had yet penetrated into the quarter which we were 
 to occupy. The most intrepid minds were affected by this 
 loneliness. The streets were so long, that our cavalry could 
 not recognize each other from the opposite extremities. They 
 were seen advancing with caution ; then, struck with fear, they 
 suddenly fled from each other, though they were all enlisted 
 under the same banners. In proportion as a new quarter was 
 occupied reconnoitering parties were sent forward to examine 
 the palaces and the churches. In the former, were found only 
 old men, children, or Russian officers, who had been wounded 
 in the preceding engagements ; in the latter, the altars were 
 decorated for a festival ; a thousand lighted tapers, burning in 
 honor of the patron saint of the country attested that the pious 
 Moscovites had not ceased to invoke him till the moment of 
 their departure. This solemn and religious spectacle, render- 
 ed the people whom we had conquered, powerful and respecta 
 ble in our estimation, and filled us with that consternation 
 which is the offspring of injustice. With cautious steps we 
 advanced through this awful solitude ; often stopping and look- 
 ing fearfully behind us ; then, struck with sudden terror, we 
 eagerly listened to every sound ; for the imagination, frighten- 
 ed at the very magnitude of our conquest, made us apprehen- 
 sive of treachery in every place. At the least noise we fancied 
 that we heard the clashing of arms, and the cries of the 
 wounded. 
 
 Approaching, however, towards the center of the town, and 
 especially in the neighborhood of the Bazar, we began to see 
 some inhabitants assembled round the Kremlin. These de- 
 luded beings, deceived by a national tradition, had believed 
 that this citadel was impregnable, and had attempted the pre- 
 ceding day to defend it for an instant against our valiant legions. 
 Dismayed by their defeat, they contemplated, with tears, those 
 lofty towers which they had hitherto regarded as the palladium 
 of their city. Proceeding further on, we saw a crowd of soldiery 
 
£84 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 who exposed to public sale a vast quantity of articles which they 
 had pillaged : for it was only at the grand magazines of pro- 
 visions that the imperial guards had placed sentinels. Con- 
 tinuing our progress, the number of soldiers multiplied ; they 
 were seen in troops, carrying on their backs pieces of cloth, 
 loaves of sugar, and whole bales of merchandise. We knew 
 not how to account for this shocking disorder, when at length 
 some fusileers of the guards informed us that the smoke which 
 we had seen on entering the town, proceeded from a vast 
 building, full of goods, called the exchange, and which the 
 Russians had set on fire in their retreat. " Yesterday," said 
 these soldiers, " we entered the city about twelve o'clock, and, 
 towards five, the fire began to appear. We endeavored at 
 first to extinguish it, but we soon learned that the governor had 
 sent away all the engines. It is also believed," added they, 
 " that this fire, which cannot be subdued, has been kindled by 
 the nobility, with an intention of exciting us to plunder, and 
 destroying our discipline ; and likewise with the determination 
 to ruin those merchants who opposed the abandonment of Mos- 
 cow." A natural curiosity made me proceed. As I advanced 
 towards the fire, the avenues were still more obstructed by 
 soldiers and beggars, carrying ofT goods of every kind. The 
 less precious articles were despised, and soon thrown away, 
 and the streets were covered with merchandise of every des- 
 cription. I penetrated at length into the interior of the ex- 
 change ; but alas ! it was no more the building so renowned 
 for its magnificence ; it was rather a vast furnace, from every 
 side of which the burning rafters were continually falling and 
 threatening us with instant destruction. I could still, however, 
 proceed with some degree of safety under the piazzas. These 
 were filled with numerous warehouses, which the soldiers had 
 broken open ; every chest was rifled, and the spoil exceeded all 
 their expectations. No cry, no tumult was heard, in this scene 
 of horror. Every one found abundantly sufficient to satisfy his 
 thirst for plunder. Nothing was heard but the crackling of the 
 flames, and the noise of the doors that were broken open ; and 
 occasionally a dreadful crash, caused by the falling in of some 
 vault. Cottons, muslins, and, in short, all the most costly pro- 
 ductions of Europe and Asia, were a prey to the flames. The 
 cellars were filled with sugar, oil, and vitriol ; these burning 
 all at once, in the subterraneous warehouses, sent forth torrents 
 of flame through thick iron grates, and presented a striking 
 image of the mouth of hell. It was a spectacle both terrible 
 and affecting. Even the most hardened minds were struck 
 
Burning of Moscow. — Page 284. 
 
 Execution of Murat.— Page 302. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 285 
 
 mih a conviction that so great a calamity would, on some 
 future day, call forth the vengeance of the Almighty upon the 
 authors of such crimes. 
 
 But what was our regret and our terror, when, on the fol- 
 lowing morning, at the dawn of day, (September 16,) we saw 
 the conflagration raging on every side, and perceived that tne 
 wind, blowing with violence, spread the flames in all directions. 
 
 The most heart-rending scene which my imagination had 
 ever conceived, far surpassing the most afflicting accounts in 
 ancient or modern history, now presented itself before our eyes. 
 A great part of the population of Moscow, frightened at our 
 arrival, had concealed themselves in cellars or secret recesses 
 of their houses. As the fire spread around, we saw them 
 rushing in despair from their various asylums. They uttered 
 no imprecations, they breathed no complaint ; but, carrying 
 with them their most precious effects, fled before the flames. 
 Others, of greater sensibility, and actuated by the genuine feel- 
 ings of nature, saved only their children, who were closely 
 clasped in their arms. Many old people, borne down by grief 
 rather than by age, had not sufficient strength to follow their 
 families, and expired near the houses in which they were born. 
 The streets, the public places, and particularly the churches, 
 were filled with these unhappy people, who, lying on the re- 
 mains of their property, suffered even without a murmur. No 
 contention or noise was heard. Both the conqueror and the 
 conquered were equally hardened ; the one from excess of for- 
 tune — the other from excess of misery. 
 
 The fire, whose ravages could not be restrained, soon reach- 
 ed the finest parts of the city. Those palaces which we had 
 admired for the beauty of their architecture, and the elegance 
 of their furniture, were enveloped in the flames. Their mag- 
 nificent fronts, ornamented with bas-reliefs and statues, fell 
 with a dreadful crash on the fragments of the pillars which had 
 supported them. The churches, though covered with iron and 
 lead, were likewise destroyed, and with them those beautiful 
 steeples, which we had seen the night before, resplendent with 
 gold and silver. The hospitals, too, which contained more 
 than twenty thousand wounded, soon began to burn. This 
 offered a harrowing and dreadful spectacle; almost all these 
 poor wretches perished. A few who still lingered, were seen 
 crawling, half burnt, amongst the smoking ruins ; and others, 
 groaning under heaps of dead bodies, endeavored in vain te 
 extricate themselves from the horrible destruction vvl^ch sur 
 rounded them. 
 
286 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 How shall I describe the confusion and tumult, when pel 
 mission was granted to pillage this immense city ! some cov 
 ered themselves with stuffs, richly worked with gold ; some 
 were enveloped in beautiful and costly furs ; while others dress- 
 ed themselves in women and children's pelisses, and even the 
 galley-slaves concealed their rags under the most splendid 
 court-dresses ; the rest crowded into the cellars, and forcing 
 open the doors, drank the most luscious wines, and carried off 
 an immense booty. 
 
 This horrible pillage was not confined to the deserted houses 
 alone, but extended to those which were inhabited, and soon 
 the eagerness and wantonness of the plunderers, caused devas- 
 tations which almost equalled those occasioned by the confla- 
 gration. Every asylum was soon violated by the licentious 
 troops. The inhabitants who had officers in their houses, for 
 a little while flattered themselves that they should escape the 
 general calamity. Vain illusion ! the fire, progressively in- 
 creasing, soon destroyed all their hopes. 
 
 Towards evening, when Napoleon no longer thought him- 
 self safe in a city, the ruin of which seemed inevitable, he left 
 the Kremlin, and established himself, with his suite, in the 
 castle of Peterskoe. When I saw him pass by, I could not, 
 without abhorrence, behold the chief of a barbarous expedition, 
 who evidently endeavored to escape the decided testimony of 
 public indignation by seeking the darkest road. He sought it, 
 however, in vain. On every side the flames seemed to pursue 
 him, and their horrible and mournful glare, flashing on his 
 guilty head, reminded me of the torches of the Eumenides pur- 
 suing the destined victims of the furies ! The generals like- 
 wise received orders to quit Moscow. Licentiousness then be- 
 came unbounded. The soldiers, no longer restrained by the 
 presence of their chiefs, committed every kind of excess. No 
 retreat was now safe, no place sufficiently sacred to afford any 
 protection against their rapacity. Nothing more forcibly ex- 
 cited their avarice than the church of St. Michael, the sepulcher 
 of the Russian emperors. An erroneous tradition had propa- 
 gated the belief that it contained immense riches. Some gre- 
 nadiers presently entered it, and descended with torches into the 
 vast subterranean vaults, to disturb the peace and silence of the 
 tomb. But, instead of treasures, they found only stone coffins, 
 covered with pink velvet, with thin silver plates, on which was 
 engraved the names of the czars, and the date of their birth and 
 decease. 
 
 Penetrated by so many calamities, I hoped that the shades of 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 287 
 
 night would cast a veil over the dreadful scene ; but they con- 
 tributed, on the contrary, to render the conflagration more visi- 
 ble. The violence of the flames, which extended from north to 
 south, and were strangely agitated by the wind, produced the 
 most awful appearance on the sky, which was darkened by the 
 thickest smoke. Nothing could equal the anguish which ab- 
 sorbed every feeling heart, and which was increased in the 
 dead of the night, by the cries of the miserable victims who 
 were savagely murdered, or by the screams of the young 
 females who fled for protection to their weeping mothers, and 
 whose ineffectual struggles tended only to inflame the passion 
 of their violators. To the dreadful groans and heart-rending 
 cries, which every moment broke upon the ear were added the 
 howlings of the dogs, which, chained to the doors of the palaces, 
 according to the custom of Moscow, could not escape from the 
 fire which surrounded them. 
 
 I flattered myself that sleep would for a while release me 
 from these revolting scenes ; but the most frightful recollections 
 crowded upon me, and all the horrors of the evening again 
 passed in review. My wearied senses seemed at last sinking 
 into repose, when the light of a near and dreadful conflagra- 
 tion, piercing into my room, suddenly awoke me. I thought 
 that my room was a prey to the flames. It was no idle dream, 
 for when I approached the window, I saw that our quarters 
 were on fire, and that the house in which I lodged, was in the 
 utmost danger. Sparks were thickly falling in our yard, and 
 on the wooden roof of our stables. I ran quickly to my land- 
 lord and his family. Perceiving their danger, they had already 
 quitted their habitation, and had retired to a subterranean vault 
 which afforded them more security. I found them with their 
 servants all assembled there, nor could I prevail on them to 
 leave it, for they dreaded our soldiers more than the fire. The 
 father was sitting on the threshold of the door, and appeared 
 desirous of appeasing, by the sacrifice of his own life, the fero- 
 city of those barbarians, who advanced to insult the family. 
 Two of his daughters, pale, with disheveled hair, and whose 
 tears added to their beauty, disputed with him the honor of the 
 martyrdom. I at length succeeded in snatching them by vio- 
 lence from the asylum, under which they would otherwise soon 
 have been buried. These unhappy creatures, when they again 
 saw the light, contemplated with indifference the loss of all 
 their property, and w T ere only astonished that they were still 
 alive. Notwithstanding the} were convinced that they would 
 be protected from all personal injury, they did not exhibit any 
 
288 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 tokens of gratitude ; out, like those wretches, who, having "been 
 ordered to execution, are quite hewildered when a reprieve un- 
 expectedly arrives, and the agonies of death render them insen- 
 sible to the gift of life. 
 
 Desirous of terminating the recital of this horrible catastro- 
 phe, for which history wants expressions, and poetry has no 
 colors, I shall pass over, in silence, many circumstances re- 
 volting to humanity, and merely describe the dreadful confusion 
 which arose in our army, when the fire had reached every part 
 of Moscow, and the whole city was become one immense flame. 
 
 A long row of carriages were perceived through the thick 
 smoke, loaded with booty. Being too heavily laden for the 
 exhausted cattle to draw them along, they were obliged to halt ' 
 at every step, when we heard the execration of their drivers, 
 who, terrified at the surrounding flames, endeavored to push 
 forward with dreadful outcries. The soldiers, still armed, 
 were diligently employed in forcing open every door. They 
 seemed to fear lest they should leave one house untouched. 
 Some, when their carriages were laden almost to breaking 
 down, bore the rest of their booty on their backs. The fire, 
 however, obstructing the passage of the principal streets often 
 obliged them to retrace their steps. Thus wandering from 
 place to place, through an immense town, the avenues of which 
 they did not know, they sought in vain to extricate themselves 
 from this labyrinth of fire. Many wandered further from the 
 gates by which they might have escaped, instead of approach- 
 ing them, and thus became the victims of their own rapacity. 
 In spite, however, of the extreme peril which threatened them, 
 the love of plunder induced our soldiers to brave every danger. 
 Stimulated by an irresistible desire of pillage, they precipitated 
 themselves into the flames. They waded in blood, treading 
 upon the dead bodies without remorse, while the ruins of the 
 houses, mixed with burning coals, fell thick on their murder- 
 ous hands. They would probably all have perished, if the in- 
 supportable heat had not forced them at length to withdraw into 
 the camp. 
 
 The fourth corps having received orders to leave Moscow, 
 we proceeded, (September 17th,) towards Peterskoe, where our 
 divisions were encamped. At that moment, about the dawn of 
 day, I witnessed the most dreadful and the most affecting scenes 
 which it is possible to conceive; namely, the unhappy inhabit- 
 ants drawing upon some mean vehicles, all that they had been 
 able to save from the conflagration. The soldiers, having 
 robbed them of their horses, the men and women were slowlv 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 28^ 
 
 and painfully dragging- along their little carts, some of which 
 contained an infirm mother, others a paralytic old man, and 
 others the miserable wrecks of half-consumed furniture ; chil- 
 dren, half-naked, followed these interesting groups. AfrlictioUj 
 to which their age is commonly a stranger, was impressed even 
 on their features, and, when the soldiers approached them, they 
 ran crying into the arms of their mothers. Alas ! what habi- 
 tation could we have offered them, which would not constantly 
 recall the object of their terror 1 Without a shelter, and with- 
 out food, these unfortunate beings wandered in the fields, and 
 fled into the woods ; but, wherever they bent their steps, they 
 met the conquerors of Moscow, who frequently ill-treated them, 
 and sold before their eyes the goods which, had been stolen from 
 their own deserted habitations. 
 
 DEATH OF MURAT. 
 
 The little fleet which bore King Joachim and his fortunes, 
 sailed at midnight. A letter was left, to be given to Macirone 
 next morning. This was a general expose of the motives for 
 the expedition; and the nature of this part of the transaction 
 is among the stains on the unfortunate king's memory. 
 
 " M. Macirone, Envoy of the Allied Powers, to the King 
 
 Joachim : 
 
 " My former letter, written a few hours since, had been dic- 
 tated by the circumstances of the case. But I owe it to myself, 
 to truth, and to your honorable foyalty and good faith, to ex- 
 press my real intentions. Such is the motive of this second 
 letter. 
 
 " I look upon freedom as beyond all other things. Captivity 
 is to me but another thing for death. What treatment can I 
 expect from those powers, who had left me for two months ex- 
 posed to the daggers of the assa&sins of the south of France ? 
 I had once saved the Marquis de Riviere's life. When he was 
 condemned to die on the scaffold, I obtained a pardon for him. 
 The return for this was, to rouse the Marseillois against me, and 
 set a price on my head. 
 
 " I was forced to wander, and hide among the woods and 
 mountains. I owe my life to nothing but the generous feeling 
 of three French officers, who brought me to Corsica at the im- 
 minent hazard of their own lives. Some contemptible indivi- 
 21 25 
 
290 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 Glials have reported that I had carried away large sums from 
 Naples. These persons do not know, that when I gave up the 
 Grand Duchy of Berg, which was mine by solemn treaty, I 
 took with me immense wealth, which I expended upon my 
 kingdom of Naples. Could the king who has succeeded me 
 recognize the country ? And yet, at this hour, I have not com- 
 mon subsistence for myself or my household ! M. Macirone, 
 I will not accept the terms which you have been empowered to 
 offer. I see nothing but direct and total abdication, in terms 
 which only permit me to live in an eternal bondage, and under 
 the arbitrary will of a despotic government. Where is the 
 moderation, or the justice of this ? Where is the consideration 
 due to an unfortunate monarch, formerly recognized by all Eu- 
 rope ; and who, in a critical moment, decided the campaign of 
 1814, in favor of those Allied Powers, who now would bear 
 him down with the intolerable burden of their persecutions ! 
 
 " It is a fact known to all Europe, that my determination to 
 drive back the Austrians to the Po, was adopted solely in con- 
 sequence of my having been deceived into the belief that they 
 ^vere about to attack me under cover of England. I felt it ne- 
 cessary to advance my line of defense, and raise the people of 
 Italy in my cause. No one knows better than yourself and 
 Lord Bentinck, that the fatal order of retreat from the Po, was 
 given merely in consequence of that general's declaration, that 
 lie should be under the necessity of supporting the Austrians if 
 they applied to him. 
 
 44 You know the causes which broke up my fine army. The 
 reports of my death carefully spread ; those of the landing of 
 the English at Naples ; the conduct of General Pignatelli, and 
 the treachery of certain officers, who increased and fomented 
 the disorder and discouragement of which they set the ruinous 
 example. 
 
 44 Of all that army, there does not live the man at this hour 
 who does not feel his error. I go to join them, for they burn 
 to see me at their head. They and all my beloved subjects 
 have retained their affection for me. I have never abdicate.! j 
 I retain the right to re-conquer my crown, if Heaven gives me 
 the force and means. My existence on the throne of Naples 
 cannot be a source of fear to the allies. I cannot be suspected 
 ©f corresponding with Napoleon, who is now at St. Helena. 
 On the contrary, England and Austria may draw some advan- 
 tages from my possession, which they might expect in vain from 
 the monarch whom they have placed on tne Neapolitan throne. 
 
 44 1 go into these details, M. Macirone, because it is to you 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 291 
 
 that I write. Your conduct with respect to me, your reputation 
 and your name, have given you claims on my confidence and 
 my esteem. 
 
 " When this letter shall be delivered to you, I shall be far 
 on my way. I shall either succeed, or finish my misfortunes 
 and my life together. I have faced death a thousand and a 
 thoisand times, fighting for my country. Shall I not be allow- 
 ed to face it once for myself? I tremble only for the fate of my 
 family." "Joachim Napoleon." 
 
 This was a dishonorable business. That Murat should have 
 accepted the passports at the moment when he was determined 
 to violate their conditions, is beyond excuse. The idea of keep- 
 ing them as a reserve, in case of failure, shows weakness of un- 
 derstanding conjoined to weakness of principle. No rational 
 man could have supposed that the passports would have been 
 allowed to save the invader after his defeat. Whether the dis- 
 honor extends beyond him, is scarcely more a question. It was 
 certainly a singular oversight of cabinet wisdom, to have com- 
 mitted a negotiation with this headlong and turbulent chieftain 
 to an officer of his own staff But how M. Macirone, having 
 his eyes open, seeing an expedition preparing to sail with troops 
 on board, and finding the offer of a passage to Trieste refused, 
 could have given up the passports, is altogether inconceivable. 
 It is curious that the whole matter has since become a subject 
 in our Courts of Law, where Macirone brought an action 
 against the Quarterly Review for defamation on this ground. 
 The action was thrown out by a jury; and the plaintiff has 
 still to clear himself of his share in the extraordinary manage- 
 ment of his negotiation. 
 
 The voyage was from the beginning ill-omened. One of 
 those sudden and tremendous bursts of tempest, that from tima 
 to time turn up the "blue Mediterranean," from the bottom, 
 smote the little fleet on the second night. It was entirely dis- 
 persed, and Murat' s vessel was driven on the iron-bound coast 
 of Sardinia, where it was near being lost. The vessels, how- 
 ever, subsequently re-assembled off the desert island of Tavo- 
 lara. On the 6th of October, they made the coast of Calabria, 
 three leagues off Paola. Here they lay to, putting out all their 
 fires to avoid the notice of the government chass* marees, and 
 making themselves as like the coral-fishing vessels as possible. 
 A new storm dispersed them. Daybreak showed but one ves- 
 sel in company, and they anchored in the bay of St. Lucido, to 
 wait for the rest. 
 
292 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 Misfortunes now came rapidly. Murat had ordered one of 
 his colonels to go on shore, to ascertain the state of Neapolitan 
 feeling. It was quickly ascertained. The colonel and his 
 companions were arrested. Another colonel of the Neapolitan 
 guard, in command of a vessel with fifty veterans on hoard, at- 
 tempted to carry it off; but on being taken in tow to prevent 
 this maneuver, cut the rope, and slipped away during the night 
 for Corsica. Murat was now seriously alarmed, and his offi- 
 cers made a last attempt to reason with him. The unfortunate 
 man might still have been saved. He admitted that the expe- 
 dition could not now succeed, saying, " that his purpose in re- 
 turning to Naples had been to save his subjects, and those at- 
 tached to his government, from the injuries and severities to 
 which they must be liable under the new government ; but that 
 the idea must now be given up. He had but a handful of men, 
 and his only course must now be for Trieste, where he would 
 put himself under the protection of Austria." 
 
 We may have no right to load the names of men with trea- 
 chery at this distance, but it is scarcely possible to conceive how 
 the catastrophe could have resulted from chance. On Murat' s 
 ordering the captain of his vessel to steer for Trieste, he was 
 astonished by being told that it was impossible ; that the ves- 
 sel could not keep the Adriatic in this season ; that there would 
 be a want of water and stores ; and, finally, that they must put 
 on shore to procure both. This captain had obtained a consi* 
 derabie character as a sailor, and one peculiarly acquainted with 
 the coast of Calabria. He offered to take the only remaining 
 transport into Pizzo, where " his credit would be enough tG 
 procure provisions, and to engage a vessel fit for the voyage.'' 
 This was acceded to. A list of the necessary matters was seir 
 from Murat, and, at the same time, orders were given to throw 
 into the sea a bag containing five hundred copies of a procla 
 mation to the Neapolitans. The expedition was thus complete 
 ly at an end. 
 
 That Murat was duped into his ruin is clear. But nothing L 
 more remarkable in this whole strange transaction than hi: 
 willful blindness to the deception. What was the first act of tht 
 captain as he was preparing for his landing % To demand tht 
 Austrian passports! under the pretense that he might fina 
 them useful, in case of disturbance from the authorities of the 
 place ! 
 
 Murat, surprised at this singular request, refused. The cap- 
 tain instantly declared that without them he would not go on 
 shore. The refusal irritated the unfortunate king tc frenzy ; 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 293 
 
 but the captain was too humble a victim for his indignation : 
 and he turned, exclaiming to his officers, " I am refused to be 
 obeyed; then, since necessity forces me to land, I will go on 
 shore myself, with you at my side. I cannot have been forgot- 
 ten in the kingdom of Naples. I have done good to its people. 
 They will not refuse to assist me." 
 
 His tone and gesture silenced the officers. He ordered them 
 all to put on their full uniform. To one of his brigadiers, who 
 excused his appearing in plain clothes, on the fair ground that 
 he had no other, he said sternly, " It is not to follow me into 
 danger that people embark in plain clothes." 
 
 The vessel had by this time come up to Pizzo. As she 
 touched the bank, the officers were about to land, when the 
 king gallantly stopped them, with " I must be the first on 
 shore!" and he sprang from the side, followed by twenty-eight 
 so diers and three attendants. This was at noon of the 8th of 
 October. 
 
 A crowd had gathered to see the landing. Some sailors re- 
 cognizing Murat, huzzaed, " Long live King Joachim!" The 
 peasantry soon joined the towns-people ; and Murat, anxious to 
 make an impression, marched rapidly at the head of his little 
 band to the principal square. The populace were still increas- 
 ing. Some artillery-men of the coast, to the number of fifteen, 
 now sallied from their guard-house, with their arms, and in the 
 king's uniform. Murat cried out, " Here are my soldiers;" and 
 followed by his troop, he addressed them, " Do you not recollect 
 your king ?" Five of them answered that they did, and that they 
 and their comrades would stand by him. 
 
 It would seem that Murat, excited by the glory of being at 
 the head of twenty-eight men in uniform, was infatuated enough 
 to have abandoned his plan of obtaining provisions in favor of 
 that of the conquest of Naples. The revolt of fifteen artillery- 
 men fixed his resolution. But this was but a brief vision. He 
 had fallen into the very rjlace of ruin. While he was standing 
 in the square, the peasantry, who had listened to the harangue 
 in complete silence, yet with countenances in all the wild agita- 
 tion of Italian passion, had disappeared. The towns-people 
 whom he next addressed, looked on him with ominous confusion. 
 At this period, two young men came up and said, in great haste, 
 " Sire, quit Pizzo this moment; you are in the midst of enemies. 
 Lose no more time — there is the road to Monteleone — we will 
 show you the way. You are safe, if you have but the good luck 
 to get out of this place." 
 
 Murat now ordered the artillery -men to follow him. The road 
 25* 
 
294 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 to Monteleone is up the side of a mountain ; exhausted by his 
 twelve days' voyage, and unable to walk fast enough, he stoppea 
 on the ascent to take breath. Two of the artillery-men now 
 overtook him. They said that the rest were on their way. To 
 ascertain this, he turned into an olive-plantation off the road, from 
 which the whole way down to Pizzo was visible. The men 
 were certainly seen coming up the mountain, though very slow- 
 ly. Murat said, " that he would wait for them where he was." 
 It was observed to him, " that there were armed peasants along 
 with them, some of whom were pressing on before the soldiers, 
 and that a party were in the rear." The guides now became 
 vehement in their entreaties that he should hasten on, telling him 
 that " if he delayed any longer, the peasants would have time 
 to overtake him; while, if he went forward at once, they might 
 be able to reach Monteleone, where he would find faithful sub- 
 jects." To all this he readily replied, that " he would wait for 
 the soldiers." To any further remonstrance, his only answer 
 was, " He would be obeyed." At this moment a party of the 
 peasants were seen rapidly coming up through the fields on the 
 opposite side of the road, and the artillery-men going over and 
 falling into their rear. The guides again besought the infatua- 
 ted king to make a last attempt at escape, and threatened that 
 they must leave him. But Murat was naturally brave, and flight 
 before a rabble was probably felt ignominious by a man who 
 had led the brilliant cavalry of the most brilliant army of the 
 earth so often to triumph. He advanced alone, and addressed 
 them. " My children ! do not arm against your king. I have 
 not landed in the Calabrias to do you any harm. I wish only 
 to ask assistance of the authorities at Monteleone, to continue 
 my voyage to Trieste, where I am to join my family. If you 
 had given me time to explain myself at Pizzo, you would have 
 known that I have passports which King Ferdinand himself 
 must respect." 
 
 An officer who came down with the peasants, now requested 
 Murat to come down upon the road, and offered to conduct him 
 to Monteleone. From this person's wearing the uniform of a 
 colonel of gens-d'armerie, the king took him for one of his for- 
 mer colonels; his officers were alarmed for his immediate safe- 
 ty, but he turned to them, saying, that " a colonel of his army 
 was incapable of dishonor ;" and then hurrying down, thiew 
 themselves into the midst of the crowd. Two of his staff and 
 his valet followed him. The others remained on the brow of 
 the hill, to keep off the peasantry, who seemed ready to fire 
 upon them. One of the staff advanced to their leader, and de- 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 295 
 
 manded his name. His answer was brief and fatal. " I am 
 Trenta Capilli, captain of gens-d'armerie, and the king and you 
 must follow me to Pizzo." 
 
 There were recollections about this man, which might well 
 have made his name a sound of terror. He had been the chieftain 
 of the insurrection raised against Murat in the Calabrias by the 
 friends of the old government, and, in general, by the haters of 
 the French tyranny. This Italian Vendee had been put down 
 in the remorseless manner of the French military. General 
 Manes had been sent against it by Murat, and, among other mur- 
 ders, he had hung no fewer than three brothers of this indivi- 
 dual Trenta Capilli ! If it had been the direct purpose of the 
 Neapolitan court to bring its invader to a death sudden, igno- 
 minious, and imbittered by reflection, this was the spot for its 
 severest vengeance, in the midst of a peasantry furious at the 
 slaughter and desolation of the past, and by the hands of their 
 chief, who had his brothers' blood to atone. The declaration, 
 that who sheds man's blood shall make retribution in his own, 
 could not have been more signally fulfilled ! 
 
 Murat now saw at once that he was undone. One of his 
 staff, springing before him with a cocked pistol in his hand, 
 presented it at Trenta Capilli' s head, and threatened to fire if 
 the king was not instantly set at liberty. The Calabrian drew 
 back ; the crowd who had seized the king, seeing the danger 
 of their chief, let him go, and he escaped to the party on the 
 hill. The staff-officer, whose name was Franceschetti, and who 
 obviously behaved with great bravery and fidelity, was over- 
 whelmed by the peasants ; but, by a furious effort, he too made 
 his way good to the hill. Then his advice was instantly to 
 rush on the crowd, and gain the mountain, or die sword in 
 hand. 
 
 But there Murat ruined every thing. Often having success- 
 ively played the invader, and the idiot, he must play the king ; 
 and this mocker of royalty, magnanimously ordered that not 
 a musket should be fired, exclaiming, " I would not have my 
 landing cost the blood of one of my people." The unfortunate 
 Louis XVI. made nearly the same speech at Varennes, and it 
 was his death-warrant ! But the peasantry did not understand 
 this theatric magnanimity. They were determined to have 
 their royal ravager, dead or alive ; and they began to fire from 
 all sides. Murat's officers did their desperate duty to the last 
 Anxious to save him, they forced him out of the very hands of 
 the people, and carried him down to the shore, still under a 
 heavy fire. There a new instance of misfortune awaited them. 
 
29€ HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 The vessel from which they had landed was gone! The caj - 
 tain had been ordered to remain for an hour within two mus- 
 ket-shots of the shore. This man, who had absolutely forced 
 them to land, had now abandoned them. In their infinite dis- 
 tress they seized upon a small vessel which was accidentally 
 at the bank ; and putting Murat on board, they attempted to 
 push it off But it was fast; and the peasantry were again 
 round them, pouring in their fire. Every musket was leveled 
 at the king, who strangely escaped them all, till, seeing that th<» 
 struggle was altogether hopeless, he cried out to the officers, 
 " My children, give up these ineffectual efforts to defend me." 
 Then holding out his sword to the crowd, he said, " People of 
 Pizzo, take this sword, which has been often drawn with glory 
 at the head of armies, and which has fought for your country. 
 I surrender it to you ; but spare the lives of the brave men round 
 me." But the peasantry did not understand the formalities of 
 war. The sight of their enemy beaten, only increased their 
 determination to destroy him. Their fire became thicker and 
 thicker. In a few moments, almost every one near him was 
 killed or wounded. The party who had remained on the moun- 
 tain had been already destroyed or taken. The crowd at length 
 rushed on Murat, and he and the wounded were dragged to the 
 town, and flung into the common prison. The scene of ruin- 
 ed ambition there might have formed a picture of powerful and 
 melancholy reflection. The king sat ; his officers, exhausted 
 and bleeding, stood round him. The soldiery, less able to con- 
 ceal their feelings, had thrown themselves on the ground, in 
 agony with their wounds, and loudly raging against the mis- 
 fortune which had wasted their bravery and blood. The pen- 
 cil of Salvator or Spagnoletti never imagined so tragic and de- 
 solated a history-piece of torture of mind and body, furious suf- 
 fering, and regal despair. 
 
 The darkness of the prison-room in which so many were 
 confined together — the blood still flowing— the groans which 
 escaped the firmest in their turn — and, above all, the hideous 
 outcries of the multitude without, calling through the bars for 
 the lives of the prisoners, and peculiarly of the king, as sacri- 
 fices to the memory of their brothers and friends, made a com- 
 bination of horrors, that one of the narrators tells us, he can 
 never think of " without feeling the hair rise upon his head." 
 
 Trenta Capilli had his full revenge, if it was to be found in 
 the complete degradation of the unfortunate Murat. He strip- 
 ped him of his purse, his diamonds, the passports, and, moro 
 disastrous than all, a single copy of his proclamation, which 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 297 
 
 had by nome oversight been left among his papers. This- pro- 
 clamation was of great length, and enumerated, in the usual 
 inflated style of the French, his rights, injuries, and intentions 
 of doing good to the Neapolitans, and of restoring them to their 
 primitive glory. This was harmless declamation. But an an- 
 nexed decree of twenty articles, contained some of those sta- 
 tutes of blood which always accompanied Jacobin benevolence. 
 By the third article, "Every individual in office under Ferdi- 
 nand who should not act in pursuance of it, from and after the 
 intelligence of King Joachim's landing, was to be declared a 
 rebel and traitor, and punished with the rigor of the laws !" 
 
 By the fourth, " Every minister or public servant of the pre- 
 sent government who should offer any opposition, or otherwise 
 act against King Joachim, was to be declared a rebel, a pro- 
 voker of civil war, a traitor to his country and king, was to be 
 put out of the law, and judged as such ; every good Neapoli- 
 tan being called upon to seize his person, and to give him up to 
 the public force." 
 
 It is inconceivable how a monarch, who, like Murat, had de- 
 serted his throne, could have leveled those sanguinary laws 
 against the people who had never abandoned him till he aban- 
 doned himself. No popular insurrection had expelled him. 
 He had fled before an army of foreigners ; and he had desert- 
 ed his city, merely as he had deserted his camp. He had no- 
 thing to punish, but the Austrian bayonets, which had driven 
 him through Italy, till they drove him into the sea. We may 
 regret his fate; but if sanguinary acts, and sanguinary inten- 
 tions, could justify public vengeance, no man's death could find 
 a stronger justification than that of Murat ; and no place could 
 be fitter for the dreadful lesson of retribution than the spot on 
 which he died. 
 
 It was a singular circumstance, that, in this misery, the indi- 
 vidual who showed the deepest compassion for him, and ren- 
 dered him the most useful services, should have been a Span- 
 iard — Alcalas, the steward of the Duke del Infantados' Cala- 
 brian estate. Murat had made himself fearfully memorable in 
 Spain. The massacre of Madrid was his ; and it had no rival 
 among all the slaughters of a war of perpetual havoc. To re- 
 turn some part of the evil of that day on the head of its author 
 was so natural, that it was for a long time said that Murat 7 ? 
 seizure was owing to this Spaniard. But the truth has tran- 
 spired at last, much more to the honor of the individual and 
 his country. The revenge of the Spaniard was shown in trie 
 generous attentions of supplying the king and his fellow pri- 
 
29S HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 soners with provisions and clothing, and whatever else they 
 might require. 
 
 In the evening of this melancholy day, an officer of the line 
 arrived with his company, and mounted guard over the prison- 
 ers. The mob were now repelled, and something like quiet 
 was obtained ; and the prisoners were relieved from their mo- 
 menta) y expectation of being put to death by the peasantry. 
 At night, General Murziante, in the service of Ferdinand, ar- 
 rived, and announced himself as commandant of the Calabrias. 
 He treated the prisoners with respect, regretted the violence of 
 the mob, and promised to procure such comforts as were in his 
 power. 
 
 The fury of the peasantry was still so excessive, that, under 
 some idea that Murat was to be saved, they next day came lush- 
 ing into the town to carry him off. Murziante was even com- 
 pelled to put his cannon in battery, and draw out the troops. 
 But the peasantry, seeing that he was prepared for them, and 
 probably receiving some assurances that their object was to be 
 accomplished, retired at length. In the course of a few days, 
 the first inconveniences of imprisonment were amended. The 
 soldiers were removed into another prison ; some of the wound- 
 ed were sent into the town ; the officers were separated ; and 
 Murat was left, with two of his staff, disembarrassed of the crowd* 
 An apartment of a better kind was provided for him, and a ta- 
 ble kept by the general. His first occupation was writing to 
 his wife, to the commander of the Austrians at Naples, and the 
 English ambassador, stating his landing, and the events that 
 followed. These letters, it appears, were forwarded to the 
 Neapolitan government, which detained them until after his 
 death. There might have been some idea on the part of Fer- 
 dinand, that his purposes would be interfered with by the am- 
 bassador. 
 
 Murziante behaved with humanity, but his duty was now 
 about to become more painful. On the 1 1th, at dinner, he seem- 
 ed embarrassed, and, after some passing conversation, sudden- 
 ly said, " There has been a telegraphic dispatch. The words 
 were 'You will consign td — then it broke off." He probably 
 meant to prepare his prisoner. Murat appeared to feel no ap- 
 prehension, and, among other things, said, " that he hoped thai 
 Ferdinand, finding himself fortunate enough to be on the throne 
 of Naples, would not abuse his victory." On the 12th, the 
 general introduced a British officer, commanding an English 
 and Sicilian flotilla under the British flag. Murat desired tc 
 be conveyed to Tropea, a little town five or six leagues off, to 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 299 
 
 wait the commands of Ferdinand. Murziante consented to this, 
 but the unhappy king's hopes were soon dashed; for the con- 
 sent was withdrawn, on the ground that the officer declared 
 that, once under the British flag, Murat must be at the disposal 
 of the British government. This was probably true. But it 
 is to be lamented that the king was, notwithstanding, not taken 
 on board. It might have interposed some time between the 
 vengeance and the victim ; and allowed of the existence of a 
 brave man, whose life could now do no injury to the throne. 
 
 That day at dinner, Murziante exhibited more embarrassment 
 than before, saying that he was unable to understand why the 
 telegraph had gone no further than the words, " You will con- 
 sign to ," that he hoped it would complete the dispatch, by 
 
 consigning his Majesty to the British vessel, to be landed at 
 Messina. " But, general," observed the king, " if they ordered 
 you by telegraph, to send me before a Military Commission, 
 would you do it?" " Certainly not," was the reply. " I should 
 await the express orders of King Ferdinand, forwarded by a 
 government messenger. But your Majesty needs have no such 
 apprehensions." Murat finished his dinner, without any emo- 
 tion, and afterwards threw himself on his bed, and desiring one 
 of his officers to read some passages of Metastasio, slept quiet- 
 ly. At midnight the fatal order came. A government mes- 
 senger arrived, with a dispatch to Murziante, directing him to 
 appoint a Military Commission, to condemn the king to death, 
 and to have him shot in half an hour after. 
 
 It appears that Murziante had already received the complete 
 order by the telegraph, but had generously delayed its execu- 
 tion, in the hope that some remission migh. take place before 
 the three days in which a messenger could reach him. The 
 order was brief and expressive : 
 
 "Naples, 9th of October, 1815. 
 
 " Ferdinand, by the grace of God, &c, &c. — We have de- 
 creed, and do decree, the following : 
 
 " Art. I. The General Murat shall be delivered to a Milita- 
 ry Commission, of which the members shall be appointed by 
 our Minister of War. % 
 
 " Art. II. There shall not be granted to the condemned moro 
 han half an hour, to receive the succors of religion." 
 
 In the morning, Murziante waited until the king had risen. 
 As soon as he was dressed, the captain of the guard, entering 
 his apartments, directed the two officers to follow him. On their 
 
300 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 inquiring the reason, the answer was, that there was some move* 
 ment at hand. The officers were then escorted to a dungeon, 
 where they found their comrades, who, soldiers and officers* 
 had been shut up there since two in the morning. 
 
 Murat, on leaving his bed-room, asked what had become of 
 his officers. He received no reply, but, shortly after, five Sici- 
 lian officers entered with the captain of the guard, who an- 
 nounced to him that he was to be brought before a Military 
 Commission, already convened in an adjoining apartment, to 
 answer for the motives of his descent on the Calabrias. 
 
 Murat addressed him firmly, " Captain, tell your president, 
 that I refuse to appear before his tribunal. Men of my rank 
 are accountable for their conduct to no one but God. Let them 
 pass sentence. I shall make no other answer." One of the 
 officers, Starage, a Sicilian, who had been named his advocate 
 for the trial, then came forward, and said, with tears in his eyes, 
 M I am appointed to defend your majesty ; and before what 
 judges — " " They are no judges of mine," replied the king, 
 " They are my subjects. They cannot sit in judgment on their 
 sovereign : just as a king cannot sit in judgment on another 
 king, because no man can have such a right over his equal. 
 Monarchs have no judges but God and nations." 
 
 The officers still tried to induce him to write even a few lines 
 tn his defense. He steadily refused, repeating, " You cannot 
 save my life. This is a business, not of trial, but of condem- 
 nation. Your Commission are not my judges, but my execu- 
 tioners. M. Starage, you must not say a syllable in my defense ; 
 this 1 command you." A few moments after, the secretary of 
 the Commission entered, to inquire the name, the age, and fa- 
 mily of the deceased. He was going on, when Murat sternly 
 interrupted him with " I am Joachim Napoleon, King of the two 
 Sicilies — Begone." 
 
 He now remained with the officers ; and calmly entered into 
 a statement of his conduct. " I own," said he, "that I should 
 have thought Ferdinand more humane and high-minded. I 
 should have acted more generously to him, had he landed in 
 my states, and fallen into my hands by the chance of war. 
 
 " I quitted my Apital only by force of arms. I had never 
 renounced any of my rights or titles to the kingdom. I enter- 
 ed Naples the possessor of twelve millions of francs, and after 
 ten years of a government, which I did every thing in my 
 power to make that of a father, I came out of it worth only 
 two hundred and fifty thousand francs in the world. My cala? 
 aiities have given King Ferdinand a country governed by a 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 301 
 
 system very different from that which he left in 1806, when he 
 took refuge in Palermo. I left him a capital filled with noble 
 buildings, and all that he could desire for the splendor of his 
 court. In my present situation, he can have nothing to fear 
 from me. My death is not necessary to his reigning. Instead 
 of these cruel orders, he might have followed the example of 
 the Allied Powers, who, in sending me passports to join my 
 family, marked out the path that he ought to tread. This would 
 have been an act more worthy of a king, than an act which 
 shows nothing but groundless fears; and which may one day 
 yet be a source of severe retribution. His generosity to a de- 
 fenceless enemy would have done him honor with the age and 
 with posterity." 
 
 He afterwards spoke of his long military life, in the various 
 French campaigns ; of his services to Naples ; to her army of 
 80,000 men which he had created ; and to her navy and trade. 
 '* I have made," said he, in a passionate voice, " all sacrifices 
 conceivable for the country. I forgot my own interest for those 
 of the. Neapolitans." He was then silent for a while, and after 
 a deep sigh, he said calmly, " Both in court and army, my only 
 object was the national good. I employed the public revenues 
 only for public purposes. I did nothing for myself. At this 
 hour of my death I have no other wealth than that of my ac- 
 tions. They are all my glory and my consolation." In this 
 way he talked for some time, with natural eloquence and lofti- 
 ness. The officers were silent and deeply affected. At length 
 the door opened, and the secretary of the Commission brought 
 in the report, sentencing him " to death within the next half 
 hour." He was listened to with haughty coolness. A confes- 
 sor was mentioned, and the king accepted of him in these words, 
 in writing : — " I declare that I have done good, as far as it lay 
 in my power. I have done evil only to the criminal. I desire 
 to die in the ar^ns of the Catholic religion." He then put the 
 paper into the hands of the confessor of Pizzo, who was in at- 
 tendance, and said to him, " This, my friend, is a perfectly sin- 
 cere confession ; and now, I beg of you to be seated." He then 
 wrote to his wife this letter : 
 
 " My dear Caroline, 
 " My last hour is come. In a few moments more I shall have 
 ceased to live. In a few moments more you will no longer have 
 a husband. Never forget me; my life "has never been stained 
 by an act of injustice. Farewell, my Achille, farewe!!, ny 
 Letitia, farewell, my Lucien, farewell, m\ Louise. Show your- 
 
 26 
 
302 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 selves to the world worthy of me. I leave you without king 
 dom or fortune, in the midst of my multitude of enemies. Be 
 steadily united. Show yourselves superior to misfortune ; think 
 of what you are, and of what you have been, and God will 
 bless you. Do not curse my memory. Be convinced that my 
 greatest pain, in these last moments of my life, is that of dying 
 far from my children. 
 
 " Receive your father's benediction, receive my embraces and 
 my tears. Keep always before yoir memory your unfortunate 
 father. 
 
 "Pizzo, IZthof October, 1815." 
 
 He then cut off some locks of his hair, and inclosing them 
 in the letter, gave it open to Captain Starage, begging of him 
 to have it sent safe to his family, along with the seal of his 
 watch, a cornelian head of his queen ; which was found grasp- 
 ed in his right hand after his death. 
 
 He requested the captain to take charge also of his watch, 
 for his valet. He then desired to see his two staff-officers ; but 
 on being told this would not be permitted, said to the secretary, 
 " Let us delay no longer, I am ready to die." He was led out 
 of the room, and had but to pass the door, when he saw a pla- 
 toon of twelve soldiers drawn up before him. He made a firm 
 step forward, and said with a smile. " Soldiers, do not put me 
 in pain. The place, indeed, will make you put the muzzles 
 of your muskets to my breast." He turned his heart to them, 
 and stood with his eyes fixed on the seal which he held in his 
 hand. It was four o'clock in the afternoon. The platoon fired I 
 
 Murziante, whose conduct during the whole transaction ap- 
 pears to have been highly honorable and feeling, could not bear 
 this spectacle. From the time of the messenger's arrival with 
 the fatal order, he had absented himself from the king, and had 
 even left the fort, and lived in the town. But at the period of 
 the execution, when it was probably necessary for him to be a 
 witness, he was observed in full uniform, leaning against the 
 wall of a house adjoining the fort, and covering his face with 
 a handkerchief in his hand. 
 
 The body, which had suffered much from the short distance 
 at which the narrowness of the place forced the platoon to fire, 
 was put into a coffin, and laid in the burial-ground of the cathe- 
 dral of Pizzo 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET- 303 
 
 DEATH OF NAPOLEON. 
 
 About the 25th of September, 1818, Napoleon's health seems 
 Co have been seriously affected. He complained much of nau- 
 sea, his legs swelled, and there were other unfavorable symp- 
 toms, which induced his physician to tell him that he was of 
 a temperament which required much activity ; that constant ex- 
 ertion of mind and body was indispensable ; and that without ex- 
 ercise he must soon lose his health. He immediately declared, 
 that while exposed to the challenge of sentinels, he never would 
 take exercise, however necessary. Dr. O'Meara proposed call- 
 ing in the assistance of Dr. Baxter, a medical gentleman of emi- 
 nence on Sir Hudson Lowe's staff "He could but say the 
 same as you do," said Napoleon, " and recommend my riding 
 abroad; nevertheless, as long as the present system continues, 
 I will never stir out." At another time he expressed the same 
 resolution, and his determination to take no medicines. Dr. 
 O'Meara replied that, if the disease could not be encountered 
 by remedies in due time, it would terminate fatally. His reply 
 was remarkable : " I will have at least the consolation that my 
 death will be an eternal dishonor to the English nation, who 
 sent me to this climate to die under the hands of * * * *." The 
 physician again represented, that by neglecting to take medicine, 
 he would accelerate his own death. " That which is written is 
 written," said Napoleon, looking up. " Our days are reckoned." 
 
 This deplorable and desperate course seems to have been 
 adopted partly to spite Sir Hudson Lowe, partly in the reckless 
 feelings of despondency inspired by his situation, and in some 
 degree, perhaps, was the effect of the disease itself, which must 
 necessarily have disinclined him to motion. Napoleon might 
 also hope, that, by thus threatening to injure his health by for- 
 bearing exercise, he might extort the governor's acquiescence 
 in some points which were disputed betwixt them. When the 
 governor sent to offer him some extension of his riding ground, 
 and Dr. O'Meara wished him to profit by the permission, he re- 
 plied, that he should be insulted by the challenge of the senti- 
 nels, and that he did not choose to submit to the caprice of the 
 governor, who, granting an indulgence one day, might recall it 
 the next. On such grounds as these, — which, after all, amount- 
 ed just to this, that being a prisoner, and one of great importance, 
 he was placed under a system of vigilance, rendered more neces- 
 sary by the constant intrigues carried on for his escape, — did he 
 r «iel himself at liberty to neglect those precautions of exercise 
 
304 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 and medicine, which were necessary for the preservation of his 
 health. His conduct on such occasions can scarce be termed 
 worthy of his powerful mind ; it resembled too much that oi the 
 fro ward child, who refuses its food, or its physic, because it is 
 contradicted. The removal of Dr. O'Meara from Napoleon's 
 person, which was considered by him as a great injury, was the 
 next important incident in the monotony of his life. 
 
 Sir Hudson Lowe again offered the assistance of Dr. Baxter, 
 but this was construed at Longwood into an additional offense. 
 It was even treated as an offer big with suspicion. The governor 
 tried, it was said, to palm his own private physician upon the 
 emperor, doubtless that he might hold his life more effectually 
 in his power. On the other hand, the British ministers were 
 anxious that every thing should be done which could prevent 
 complaints on this head. " You cannot better fulfill the wishes 
 of his majesty's government, (says one of Lord Bathurst's dis- 
 patches to the governor,) than by giving effect to any measure 
 which you may consider calculated to prevent any just ground 
 of dissatisfaction on the part of General Bonaparte, on account 
 of any real or supposed inadequacy of medical attendance." 
 
 Dr. Stokoe, surgeon on board the Conqueror, was next called 
 in to visit at Longwood. But differences arose betwixt him and 
 the governor, and after a few visits, his attendance on Napoleon 
 was discharged. 
 
 After this period, the prisoner expressed his determination, what- 
 ever might be the extremity of his case, not to permit the visits of 
 an English physician ; and a commission was sent to Italy to ob- 
 tain a medical man of reputation from some of the seminaries in 
 that country. At the same time, Napoleon signified a desire to 
 have the company of a Catholic priest. The proposition for this 
 purpose came through his uncle, Cardinal Fesch, to the Papal 
 government, and readily received the assent of the British 
 ministry. 
 
 It would appear that this mission had been thought by his 
 holiness to resemble, in some degree, those sent into foreign and 
 misbelieving countries, for two churchmen were dispatched to 
 St. Helena instead of one. 
 
 The senior priest, Father Bonavita, was an elderly man, sub- 
 ject to the infirmities belonging to his period of life, and broken 
 by a residence of twenty-six years in Mexico. His speech had 
 been affected by a paralytic stroke. His recommendation to the 
 office which he now undertook, was his having been father con- 
 fessor to Napoleon's mother. His companion was a young Abb6 
 called Vignali. Both were pious, good men, well qualified, 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 305 
 
 doubtless, to give Napoleon the comfort which their church holds 
 out to those who receive its tenets, but not so much so to reclaim 
 wanderers, or confirm those who might doubt the doctrine* of 
 the church. 
 
 Argument or controversy, however, were not necessary. Na- 
 poleon had declared his resolution to die in the faith of his 
 fathers. He was neither an infidel, he said, nor a philosopher. 
 If we doubt whether a person, who had conducted himself to- 
 wards the pope in the way which history records of Napoleon, 
 who had at one time been excommunicated, (if, indeed, the ban 
 was yet removed,) could have been sincere in his general pro- 
 fessions of Catholicism, we must at least acquit the exile of the 
 charge of deliberate atheism. On various occasions, he ex- 
 pressed, with deep feelings of devotion, his conviction of the ex- 
 istence of the Deity, the great truth upon which the whole system 
 of religion rests : and this at a time when the detestable doctrines 
 of atheism and materialism were generally current in France. 
 Immediately after his elevation to the dignity of first consul, he 
 meditated the restoration of religion ; and thus, in a mixture of 
 feeling and of policy, expressed himself upon the subject to 
 Thibaudeau, then a counsellor of state. Having combated for 
 a long time the systems of modern philosophers upon different 
 kinds of worship, upon deism, natural religion, and so forth, he 
 proceeded. " Last Sunday evening, in the general silence of 
 nature, I was walking in these grounds, (of Malmaison.) The 
 sound of the church-bell of Ruel fell upon my ear, and renewed 
 all the impressions of my youth. I was profoundly affected, 
 such is the power of early habit and associations; and I con- 
 sidered, if such was the case with me, what must not be the ef- 
 fect of such recollections upon the more simple and credulous 
 vulgar? Let your philosophers answer that. The people must 
 have a religion." He went on to state the terms on which he 
 would negotiate with the pope, and added, " They will say I am 
 a papist — I am no such thing. I was a Mahomedan in Egypt 
 — I will be a Catholic here, for the good of the people. I do 
 not believe in forms of religion, but in the existence of a God !" 
 He extended his hands towards heaven — " Who is it that has 
 created all above and around us ?"* This sublime passage proves 
 that Napoleon (unfortunate in having proceeded no farther to- 
 wards the Christian shrine) had at least crossed the threshold of 
 the temple, and believed in and worshiped the Great Father of 
 the Universe. 
 
 * Memoire sur la Consulat 1799 et 1604. 
 
 22 26* 
 
306 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 The missionaries were received at St. Helena with civility 
 and the rites of mass were occasionally performed at Longwood. 
 Both the clergymen were quiet, unobtrusive characters, confin- 
 ing themselves to their religious duties, and showing neither the 
 abilities nor the active and intriguing spirit which Protestants 
 are apt to impute to the Catholic priesthood. 
 
 The same vessel which arrived at St. Helena on the 18th 
 September, in 1819, with these physicians for the mind, brought 
 with them Dr. F. Antommarchi, anatomic pro-sector, (that is, 
 assistant to a professor of anatomy,) to the Hospital of St. Marie 
 Neuve at Florence, attached to the University of Pisa, who was 
 designed to supply the place, about the prisoner's person, occu- 
 pied by Dr. O'Meara, and after him provisionally by Dr. Stokoe. 
 He continued to hold the office till Napoleon's death. 
 
 The symptoms of disorganization in the digestive powers be- 
 came more and more apparent, and his reluctance to take any 
 medicine, as if from an instinctive persuasion that the power of 
 physic was in vain, continued as obstinate as ever. On one of 
 the many disputes which he maintained on this subject, he 
 answered Antommarchi's reasoning thus: "Doctor, no physic- 
 ing. We are, as I already told you, a machine made to live. 
 We are organized for that purpose, and such is our nature. Do 
 not counteract the living principle. Let it alone — leave it the 
 liberty of defending itself — it will do better than your drugs. 
 Our body is a watch, that is intended to go for a given time. The 
 watch-maker cannot open it; and must, on handling it, grope 
 his way blindfolded and at random. For once that he assists 
 and relieves it by dint of tormenting it with his crooked instru- 
 ments, he injures it ten times, and at last destroys it." This was 
 on the 14th of October, 1820. 
 
 As the ex-emperor's health grew weaker, it cannot be thought 
 extraordinary that his mind became more and more depressed. 
 In lack of other means of amusing himself, he had been some- 
 what interested in the construction of a pond and fountain in the 
 garden of Longwood, which was stocked with small fishes. A 
 mixture of copperas in the mastick employed in cementing the 
 basin, had affected the water. The creatures, which had been 
 in a good measure the object of Napoleon's attention, began to 
 sicken and to die. He was deeply affected by the circumstance, 
 and, in language strongly resembling the beautiful verses of 
 Moore, expressed his sense of the fatality which seemed to 
 attach itself to him. "Everything I love — every thing that be- 
 longs to me," he exclaimed, " is immediately struck. Heaven 
 and mankind unite to afflict me." At other times he lamented 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 307 
 
 his decay of energy. The bed, he said, was now a place of 
 luxury, which he would not exchange for all the thrones in the 
 universe. The eyes, which formerly were so vigilant, could 
 now scarcely be opened. He recollected that he used to dictate 
 to four or five secretaries at once. "But then," he said, " I was 
 Napoleon — now I am no longer any thing — my strength, my 
 faculties, forsake me — I no longer live, I only exist." Often he 
 remained silent for many hours, suffering, as may be supposed, 
 much pain, and immersed in profound melancholy. 
 
 About the 22d January, 1821, Napoleon appeared to resume 
 some energy, and to make some attempt to conquer his disease 
 by exercise. He mounted his horse, and galloped, for the last 
 time, five or six miles around the limits of Longwood, but nature 
 was overcome by the effort. He complained that his strength 
 was sinking under him rapidly. 
 
 Towards the end of February the disease assumed a character 
 still more formidable,. and Dr. Antommarchi became desirous of 
 obtaining a consultation with some of the English medical men. 
 The emperor's aversion to their assistance had been increased 
 by a well-meant offer of the governor, announcing that a physician 
 of eminence had arrived at the island, whom he therefore placed 
 at General Bonaparte's devotion.* This proposal, like every 
 other advanced on the part of Sir Hudson Lowe, had been re- 
 ceived as a meditated injury ; " He wants to deceive Europe by 
 false bulletins," said Napoleon ; " I will not see any one who is 
 in communication with him." To refuse seeing every physician 
 but his own, was certainly an option which ought to have been 
 left in Napoleon's choice, and it was so left accordingly. But in 
 thus obstinately declining to see an impartial medical man, 
 whose report must have been conclusive respecting his state of 
 health, Napoleon certainly strengthened the belief that his case 
 was not so desperate as it proved to be. 
 
 At length the ex-emperor consented that Dr. Antommarchi 
 should consult with Dr. Arnott, surgeon of the 20th regiment. But 
 the united opinion of the medical gentlemen could not overcome 
 the aversion of Napoleon to medicine, or shake the belief which 
 he reposed in the gloomy doctrines of fatalism. " Quod scriptum 
 scrip^um," he replied in the language of a Moslem, " All that 
 is to happen is written down. Our hour is marked, and it is not 
 in our power to claim a moment longer of life than Fate has 
 predestined for us." 
 
 * Dr. Shortt, physician to the forces ; who, at this time, replaced Dr. 
 Baxter as principal medical officer at St. Helena, and to whom we have oeen 
 obliged for much valuable information. 
 
S08 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 Dr. Antommarchi finally prevailed in obtaining admittanc« 
 for Dr. Arnott into the appartment and presence of the patient, 
 who complained chiefly of his stomach, of the disposition to vomit, 
 and deficiency of the digestive powers. He saw him, for the 
 first time on 1st April, 1821, and continued his visits regularly. 
 Napoleon expressed his opinion that his liver was affected. Dr. 
 Arnott's observations led him to think, that though the action of 
 the liver might be imperfect, the seat of the disease was to be 
 looked for elsewhere. And here it is to be remarked, that Na- 
 poleon, when Dr. Antommarchi expressed doubts on the state of 
 his stomach, had repelled them with sharpness, though his own 
 private belief was, that he was afflicted with the disease of his 
 father. Thus, with a capricious inconsistency, natural enough 
 to a sick-bed, he communicated to some of his retinue his sense 
 of what disease afflicted him, though, afraid perhaps of some 
 course of medicine being proposed, he did not desire that his sur- 
 geon should know his suspicions.* From the 15th to the 25th 
 of April, Napoleon was engaged from time to time in making 
 his testamentary bequests. On the day last mentioned, he 
 was greatly exhausted bj'' the fatigue of writing, and showed 
 symptoms of over-excitation. Among these may be safely in- 
 cluded, a plan which he spoke of for reconciling all religious 
 dissensions in France, which he said he had designed to carry 
 into effect. 
 
 As the strength of the patient gradually sunk, the symptoms 
 of his disease became less equivocal, until, on the 27th April, 
 the ejection of a dark -colored fluid gave farther insight into the 
 nature of the malady. Dr. Antommarchi persevered in attribu- 
 ting it to climate, which was flattering the wish of the patient, 
 who desired to lay his death upon his confinement at St. Helena ; 
 while Dr. Arnott expressed his belief that the disease was the 
 same which cut off his father in the pure air of Montpellier. 
 Dr. Antommarchi, as usually happens to the reporter of a de- 
 bate, silenced his antagonist in the argument, although Dr. Arnott 
 had by this time obtained the patient's own authority for the 
 assertion. Upon the 28th of April, Napoleon gave instructions 
 to Antommarchi, that after his death his body should be opened, 
 but that no English medical man should touch him, unless in 
 the case of assistance being absolutely necessary, in w 7 hich case 
 he gave Antommarchi leave to call in that of Dr. Arnott. He 
 directed that his heart should be conveyed to Parma, to Maria 
 
 * Madame Bertrand mentioned to Dr. Shortt, that Napoleon conceived 
 himself dying of cancer in the stomach, which she considered as a mere 
 whim. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 309 
 
 Louisa; and requested anxiously that his stomach should '6a 
 particularly examined, and the report transmitted to his son. 
 " The vomitings," he said, " which succeeded one another with- 
 out interruption, led me to suppose that the stomach is, of all 
 my organs, the most diseased ; and I am inclined to believe that 
 it is attacked with the same disorder which killed my father, — I 
 mean a scirrus in the pylorus." On the 2d May, the patient 
 returned to the same interesting subject, reminding Antornmarchi 
 of his anxiety that the stomach should be carefully examined. 
 " The physicians of Montpellier had announced that the scirrus 
 in the pylorus would be hereditary in my family. Their report 
 is, I believe, in the hands of Louis. Ask for it, and compare 
 it with your own observations, that I may save my son from the 
 sufferings I now experience." 
 
 During the 3d May, it was seen that the life of Napoleon was 
 drawing evidently to a close ; and his followers, and particularly 
 his physician, became desirous to call in more medical assistance ; 
 — that of Dr. Shortt, physician to the forces, and of Dr. Mitchell, 
 surgeon of the flag-ship, was referred to. Dr. Shortt, however, 
 thought it proper to assert the dignity belonging to his profession, 
 and refused to give an opinion on a case of so much importance 
 in itself, and attended with so much obscurity, unless he were 
 permitted to see and examine the patient. The officers of Na- 
 poleon's household excused themselves, by professing that the 
 emperor's, strict commands had been laid on them, that no Eng- 
 lish physician, Dr. Arnott excepted, should approach his dying 
 bed. They said, that even when he w r as speechless, they would 
 be unable to brook his eye, should he turn it upon them in re- 
 proof for their disobedience. 
 
 About two o'clock of the same day, the priest Vignali ad 
 ministered the sacrament of extreme unction. Some days be- 
 fore, Napoleon had explained to him the manner in which he 
 desired his body should be laid out in state, in an apartment 
 lighted by torches, or what Catholics call un chambre ardente. 
 " I am neither," he said, in the same phrase which we have 
 formerly quoted, " a philosopher nor a physician. I believe in 
 God, and am of the religion of my father. It is not every body 
 who can be an atheist. I was born a Catholic, and will fulfil 
 all the duties of the Catholic Church, and receive the assistance 
 which it administers." He then turned to Dr. Antornmarchi, 
 whom he seems to have suspected of heterodoxy, which the 
 doctor, however, disowned. "How can you carry it so far?" 
 he said. " Can you not believe in God, whose existence every 
 thing proclaims, and in whom the greatest minds have believed ? J 
 
3i0 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 As if to mark a closing point of resemblance betwixt Crom* 
 well and Napoleon, a dreadful tempest arose on the 4th May, 
 which preceded the day that was to close the mortal existence of 
 this extraordinary man. A willow, which had been the exile's 
 favorite, and under which he had often enjoyed the fresh breeze, 
 was torn up by the hurricane ; and almost all the trees about 
 Longwood shared the same fate. 
 
 The 5th of May came amid wind and rain. Napoleon's pass- 
 ing spirit was deliriously engaged in a strife more terrible than 
 that of the elements around. The words " tete d'armee" the 
 last which escaped his lips, intimated that his thoughts were 
 watching the current of a heady fight. About eleven minuses 
 before six in the evening, Napoleon, after a struggle which 
 indicated the original strength of his constitution, breathed 
 his last. 
 
 The officers of Napoleon's household were disposed to have 
 the body anatomized in secret. But Sir Hudson Lowe had too 
 deep a sense of the responsibility under which he and his country 
 stood, to permit this to take place. He declared, that even if he 
 were reduced to make use of force, he would insure the presence 
 of English physicians at the dissection. 
 
 Generals Bertrand and Montholon, with Marchand, the valet- 
 de-chambre of the deceased, were present at the operation, which 
 was also witnessed by Sir Thomas Reade, and some British 
 staff-officers. Drs. Thomas Shortt, Archibald Arnott, Charles 
 Mitchell, Matthew Livingstone, and Francis Burton, all of them 
 medical men, were also present. The cause of death was suf- 
 ficiently evident. A large ulcer occupied almost the whole of 
 the stomach. It was only the strong adhesion of the diseased 
 parts of that organ to the concave surface of the lobe of the liver, 
 which, being over the ulcer, had prolonged the patient's life by 
 preventing the escape of the contents of the stomach into the 
 cavity of the abdomen. All the other parts of the viscera were 
 found in a tolerably healthy state. The report was signed by 
 the British medical gentlemen present. Dr. Antommarchi was 
 about to add his attestation, when, according to information which 
 we consider as correct, General Bertrand interdicted his doing 
 so, because the report was drawn up as relating to the body of 
 General Bonaparte. Dr. Antommarchi's own account does 
 not, we believe, greatly differ from that of the British professional 
 persons, though he has drawn conclusions from it which are ap- 
 parently inconsistent with the patient's own conviction, and the 
 ghastly evidence of the anatomical operation. He continued to 
 insist that his late patron had not died of the cancer which we 
 
Tomb of Napoleon. — Page 311. 
 
 
 View of Algiers.— Page 312. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 311 
 
 have described, or, in medical language, of scirrus of the pylorus, 
 but of a chronic-gastro-hrpatitis, a disease he stated to be 
 endemic in the island of St. Helena ; although we do not observe 
 it asserted or proved that the hospital of the island, at any time, 
 produced a single case like that of the deceased captive. 
 
 The gentlemen of Napoleon's suit were desirous that his heart 
 should be preserved and given to their custody. But Sir Hud- 
 son Lowe did not feel himself at liberty to permit this upon his 
 own authority. He agreed, however, that the heart should be 
 placed in a silver vase, filled with spirits, and interred along 
 with the body; so that, in case his instructions from home 
 should so permit, it might be afterwards disinhumed and sent to 
 Europe. 
 
 The place of interment became the next subject of discussion. 
 On this subject Napoleon had been inconsistent. His testamen- 
 tary disposition expressed a wish that his remains should be de« 
 posited on the banks of the Seine ; a request which he could not 
 for an instant suppose would be complied with, and which ap 
 pears to have been made solely for the sake of producing effect. 
 The reflection of an instant would have been sufficient to call to 
 recollection, that he would not, while in power, have allowed 
 Louis XVIII. a grave in the land of his fathers ; nor did he 
 permit the remains of the Duke D'Enghien any other inter- 
 ment than that assigned to the poorest outcast, who is huddled 
 to earth on the spot on which he dies. But neither did the agi- 
 tated state of the public mind, now general through Italy, recom- 
 mend the measure. 
 
 A grave for the Emperor of France, within the limits of the 
 rocky island to which his last years were limited, was the alter- 
 native that remained ; and sensible that this was likely to be the 
 case, he had himself indicated the spot where he wished to lie. 
 It was a small secluded recess, called Slane's, or Hanes' Valley, 
 where a fountain arose, at which his Chinese domestics used to 
 fill the silver pitchers which they carried to Longwood for Na- 
 poleon's use. The spot had more of verdure and shade than 
 any in the neighborhood ; and the illustrious exile was often 
 accustomed to repose under the beautiful weeping willows which 
 overhung the spring. The body, after lying in state in his small 
 bed-room, during which time it was visited by every person of 
 condition in the island, was on the 8th May carried to the place 
 of interment. The pall which covered the coffin was the mili- 
 tary cloak which Napoleon had worn at the battle of Marengo. 
 The members of his late household attended as mourners, and 
 were followed by the governor, the admiral, and all the civil and 
 
312 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 military authorities of the island. All the troops were undei 
 arms upon the solemn occasion. As the road did not permit a 
 near approach of the hearse to the place of sepulture, a party of 
 British grenadiers had the honor to bear the coffin to the grave. 
 The prayers "*-*.re recited by the priest Abbe Vignali. Minute 
 guns were fireu from the admiral's ship. The coffin was then 
 let down into the grave, under a discharge of three successive 
 volleys of artillery, fifteen pieces of cannon firing fifteen guns 
 each. A large stone was then lowered down on the grave, and 
 covered the moderate space now sufficient for the man for whom 
 Europe was once too little. 
 
 BATTLE OF ALGIERS. 
 
 By an Officer engaged. 
 
 The Leander, fitted for the flag of Rear-Admiral Milne, was 
 at Spithead,'in June, 1816, when Lord Exmouth arrived with a 
 squadron from the Mediterranean, where a dispute had arisen 
 between the Dey of Algiers and his lordship, in consequence 
 of a massacre that took place at Bona, on the persons of for- 
 eigners, then under the protection of the British flag. 
 
 When the particulars were made known to government, 
 Lord Exmouth was ordered to return to Algiers, and to de- 
 mand, in the name of the Prince Regent, instant "reparation for 
 the insult offered to England. The squadron being still on the 
 war establishment, the crews were discharged, and another ex- 
 pedition was ordered to be equipped with all possible dispatch. 
 The Leander instantly offered her services, and she soon had 
 the satisfaction to hear, that they were graciously accepted, and 
 never was greater joy expressed throughout her crew, than 
 when her captain (Chetham) announced the determination of 
 the Admiralty, that she was to complete the war complement ; 
 an ex*ra lieutenant (Monk) was appointed, a rendezvous foj 
 volunteers opened on the point at Portsmouth, and in ten days 
 she was ready for sea, with 480 men on board. 
 
 Portsmouth, during this time, looked like itself in war. All 
 sorts of persons came forward to enter ; plowmen, watermen, 
 and a whole band of itinerant musicians ; some were taken, raw 
 as they seemed to be, and others were rejected : certain it is. 
 however, that two or three of our volunteers never had been a» 
 sea before. A zeal now showed itself from the captain to th* 
 boy seldom witnessed j duty, however incredible it may appear 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 313 
 
 actually became a pleasure, 6uch was the excitement produced 
 by the prospect of active service. 
 
 * The flag of Rear- Admiral Milne was at length hoisted, 
 and the Leander sailed for Plymouth, where she anchored in 
 two days, and joined part of the squadron intended for the 
 same service : the Queen Charlotte, bearing the flag of Lord 
 Exmouth, soon appeared, and on the 29th of July, the expedi- 
 tion sailed from England with a fine easterly breeze. Now 
 began the preparations for action ; the people were exercised at 
 the guns twice a day (Sunday excepted,) blank cartridges were 
 occasionally fired, and the marines practiced with ball at a 
 mark. Tubs were placed in different parts of the decks to hold 
 an additional quantity of shot, double breechings fitted to the 
 carronades, and spare breechings hung up over each long gun ; 
 midshipmen were stationed at the hatchways to preserve regu- 
 larity in the supply of powder ; preventer braces and toggles 
 fitted to the lower yards, which were slung in chains ; tuck- 
 lines were fitted to the topsails to haul them snugly up, and 
 casks were lashed along the decks with water to refresh the 
 men. 
 
 The expedition arrived in Gibraltar in eleven days, when it 
 was joined by a Dutch squadron of five frigates and a corvette, 
 under the command of Vice-Admiral Von Capellan ; five gun- 
 ooats were fitted out and manned by the ships of the line, and 
 two transports were hired to attend with ammunition, &c. All 
 lumber and bulkheads, were landed at the dock-yard ; the ships 
 were completed with water, and in all points ready for sea by 
 the 13th of August. The Rear-Admiral shifted his flag into 
 the Impregnable, and on the 14th the combined expedition sailed 
 for Algiers. The Leander was ordered to take a transport in 
 in tow, and kept on the Admiral's weather-beam, and the Dutch- 
 men kept to windward of all. We were met by an easterly 
 wind two days after leaving Gibraltar, and on the third day we 
 were joined by the Prometheus, from Algiers, whither she had 
 been dispatched to bring away the British Consul ; the Dey, 
 however, was apprised of the expedition and detained him, as 
 well as two boats' crews of the Prometheus, but the consul's 
 wife and daughter escaped, and got safely on board. 
 
 The foul wind prevented the squadron making much way, 
 but the time was employed to advantage, in constant exercise 
 at the guns, and the men were brought as near to perfection as 
 they could be ; in handling them each man knew his own duty, 
 as well as that of the captain of the gun, fireman, boarder, 
 powder-man, rammer, &c. Each took his turn to the several 
 
 27 
 
314 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 duties, and continued changing up to the 27th. A chain-cablft 
 was brought through the starboard-cabin- window, on the main 
 deck, and bent to the bower-anchor forward, ready to bring the 
 ship up by the stern, and a hempen-cable in the same way on 
 the other side; the flying jib-booms were rigged in, to allow the 
 ships to anchor near each other round the mole ; in short, every 
 precaution which the most seaman-like views could think of 
 were taken to insure success : lastly, were the preparations of 
 the surgeon, who had been long employed making convenien- 
 ces for those who were doomed to require his assistance. Fear- 
 ful as it was to see the lengths of bandages which he and his 
 assistants were getting ready for wounded limbs, we could not 
 but feel a satisfaction in the confidence which all justly placed 
 in his skill and attention ; for no man could, nor did with more 
 success, exert himself, when th* day of need arrived. 
 
 On Sunday, the 25th of August, the expedition had a fine 
 breeze, and made great progress with a flowing sheet ; divine 
 service was performed, and on that occasion, when offering up 
 prayers to the Almighty, by many for the last time, at public 
 worship, feelings of the most satisfactory nature originated, 
 which can never be forgotten by those who felt them ; they 
 gave a cool confidence when going into action, which the 
 stranger to religious sentiments can never possess. 
 
 The coast of Africa was seen on Monday, and as the day 
 dawned on Tuesday, the 27th, Algiers appeared about ten miles 
 off The morning was beautifully fine, with a haze which fore- 
 told the coming heat : as the morning advanced, the breeze 
 failed us, but at nine o'clock we had neared the town to within 
 about five miles ; the long line of batteries were distinctly seen, 
 with the red flag flying in all directions, and the masts of the 
 shipping showed above the walls of the mole. The Severn, 
 with a flag of truce flying, was detached with the terms of the 
 Prince Regent, and this was a most anxious period, for we 
 were in the dark as to the feelings of the Dey, whether the 
 offered terms were such as he could consistently accept, or that 
 left him no alternative but resistance. During this state of 
 suspense, our people were as usual exercised at the guns, the 
 boats hoisted out, and prepared for service by signal, and at 
 noon we were ready for action. 
 
 The ship's company were piped to dinner, and at one o'clock 
 the captain and officers sat down to theirs in the gun-room, the 
 principal dish of which was a substantial sea pie ; wine was 
 pledged in a bumper to a successful attack, and a general ex- 
 pression of hope for an unsuccessful negotiation. At this time. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 315 
 
 the officer of the watch reported to the captain, that the admi- 
 ral had made the general telegraph " Are you ready ?" Che- 
 tham immediately directed that our answer " ready" should be 
 shown, and at the same moment the like signal was flying at 
 the mast-heads of the entire squadron. The mess now broke 
 up, each individual of it quietly making arrangements with the 
 other in the event of accident, and we had scarcely reached the 
 deck, when the signal to " bear up" was out, the commander- 
 in-chief leading the way, with a fine steady breeze blowing on 
 the land. We ran in on the admiral's larboard-beam, keeping 
 within two cables' length of him ; the long guns were loaded 
 with round and grape, the carronades with grape only ; our 
 sail was reduced to the topsails and top-gallant sails, the main- 
 sail furled, and the boats dropped astern in tow. The ships 
 were now steering to their appointed stations, and the gun- 
 boats showing their eagerness, by a crowd of sail, to get along- 
 side the batteries. As we drew towards the shore, the Alge- 
 rines were observed loading their guns, and a vast number of 
 spectators were assembled on the beach, idly gazing at the ap- 
 proach of the squadron, seemingly quite unconscious of what 
 was about to happen. Far different were appearances at the 
 mouth of the mole as it opened ; the row-boats, fully manned, 
 were lying on their oars, quite prepared for the attack, and we 
 fully expected they would attempt to board should an opportu- 
 nity offer ; each boat had a flag hanging over the stern. A 
 frigate was moored across the mouth of the mole, and a small 
 brig was at anchor outside of her. 
 
 At fifteen minutes before three P. M. the Queen Charlotte 
 came to an anchor by the stern, at the distance of sixty yards 
 from the beach, and, as was ascertained by measurement, ninety 
 yards from the muzzles of the guns of the mole batteries, un- 
 molested, and with all the quietude of a friendly harbor ; her 
 flag flew at the main, and the colors at the peak ; her starboard 
 broadside flanked the whole range of batteries from the mole 
 head to the lighthouse , her topsail yards (as were those of the 
 whole squadron,) remained aloft, to be more secure from fire, 
 and the sails brought snugly to the yards by headlines previ- 
 ously fitted ; the top-gallant sails and small sails only were 
 furled, so that we had no man unnecessarily exposed aloft. 
 
 The Leander, following the motions of the Admiral, was 
 brought up with two anchors by the stern, let go on his lar- 
 board beam, veered away, until she obtained a position nearly 
 a-head of him, then let go an anchor under foot, open by this to 
 i battery on the starboard side at the bottom of the mole, and 
 
316 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 to the fish-market battery on the larboard side. At this mo 
 merit Lord Exmouth was seen waving his hat on the poop to 
 the idlers on the beach to get out of the way, then a loud cheer 
 was heard, and the whole of the Queen Charlotte's tremendous 
 broadside was thrown into the batteries abreast of her ; this 
 measure was promptly taken, as the smoke of a gun was ob- 
 served to issue from some part of the enemy's work, so that 
 the sound of the British guns was heard almost in the same in- 
 stant with that to which the smoke belonged. The cheers of 
 the Queen Charlotte were loudly echoed by those of the Lean- 
 der, and the contents of her starboard broadside as quickly fol- 
 lowed, carrying destruction into the groups of row-boats ; as 
 the smoke opened, the fragments of boats were seen floating, 
 their crews swimming and scrambling, as many as escaped the 
 shot, to the shore ; another broadside annihilated them. The 
 enemy was not slack in returning this warm salute, for almost 
 before the shot escaped from our guns, a man standing on the fore- 
 castle bits, hauling on the topsail buntlines, received a musket 
 bullet in his left arm, which broke the bone, and commenced 
 the labors in the cockpit. The action became general as soon 
 as the ships had occupied their positions, and we were engaged 
 with the batteries on either side ; so close were we, that the 
 enemy were distinctly seen loading their guns above us. After 
 a few broadsides, we brought our starboard broadside to bear 
 on the fish-market, and our larboard side then looked to sea- 
 ward. The rocket-boats were now throwing rockets over our 
 ships into the mole, the effects 01 which, were occasionally seen 
 on the shipping on our larboard bow. The Dutch flag was to 
 be seen flying at the fore of the Dutch admiral, who, with his 
 squadron, were engaging the batteries to the eastward of the 
 mole. The fresh breeze which brought us in was gradually 
 driven away by the cannonade, and the smoke of our guns so 
 hung about us, that we were obliged to wait until it cleared ; 
 for the men took deliberate and certain aims, training their 
 guns until they were fully satisfied of their precision. But our 
 enemies gave us no reason to suppose that they were idle ; so 
 great was the havoc which they made amongst us, that the sur- 
 geon in his report stated, that sixty-five men were brought to 
 him wounded after the first and second broadsides. Poor 
 Baxter, the subaltern of marines, who had been presiding at 
 the mess-table just half an hour before in all the vigor of health, 
 was shot through the head by a musket bullet, while he was 
 leaning on the hammock-rails, looking' towards the shore. The 
 captain of marines, (Wilson,) in a later stage of the business 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 317 
 
 fell by a double-headed shot, which carried away both his legs: 
 the marines were at the great guns, so that their officers had 
 but little to do, and no doubt Baxter was picked off. A very 
 fine boy, Sturt, a midshipman at the gangway quarters, came 
 running past severely wounded by a musket bullet likewise, 
 and another midshipman, Hanwell, at the same quarters, fell, 
 shot in the spine, in the same way. 
 
 About four o'clock, a boat, with an officer, came with orders 
 from the admiral to cease firing, as an attempt to destroy the 
 Algerine frigates was about to be made. Accordingly, three 
 boats pushed into the mole, running the gantlet in gallant 
 style ; they boarded the outermost frigate, which was found de- 
 serted by her crew, and in a few minutes she was in a blaze ; 
 in doing this .he boats' crew suffered severely. The smoke of 
 our last broadside had scarcely left us, when the Algerines re- 
 newed their fire of musketry upon our decks ; fortunately the 
 men were lying down by the guns, and the officers alone were 
 marks for them, but one midshipman was their only victim 
 at this time. The masts began to suffer in all parts, splinters 
 were falling from them, and shreds of canvas from the sails 
 came down upon us in great quantities ; traces, bow-lines, and 
 other running gear, suffered equally ; the shrouds, fore and aft, 
 got cut up so quickly, that the rigging men attempted in vain to 
 knot them, and were at last forced to leave the rigging to its fate. 
 
 When the boats returned, we recommenced our fire with re- 
 newed vigor ; occasionally a flag-staff was knocked down, a 
 fact which was always announced with a cheer, each captain 
 of a gun believing himself to be the faithful marksman. The 
 Algerine squadron now began, as it were, to follow the motions 
 of the outer frigate ; the rockets had taken effect, and they all 
 burned merrily together. A hot shot, about this time, struck 
 a powder-box, on which was sitting a powder-boy; he, poor 
 fellow, was blown up, and another near him was dreadfully 
 scorched. 
 
 Through the intervals of smoke, the sad devastation in the 
 enemy's works was made visible ; the whole of the mole head, 
 near the Queen Charlotte, was a ruin, and the guns were con- 
 sequently silenced; but we were not so fortunate with the fish- 
 market ; the guns there still annoyed us, and ours seemed to 
 make no impression. A battery in the upper angle of the town 
 was also untouched, and we were so much under it, that the 
 shot actually came through our decks, without touching the 
 bulwarks, and we could not elevate our guns . sufficiently to 
 check them. 
 
 27* 
 
318 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 As the sun was setting behind the town, the whole of tha 
 shipping in the mole were in flames; their cables burned 
 through, left them at the mercy of every breeze: the outermost 
 frigate threatened the Queen Charlotte with a similar fate, but 
 a breeze sent her clear on towards the Leander; a most in- 
 tense heat came from her, and we expected every moment to be 
 in contact; the flames were burning with great power at 'the 
 mast heads, and the loose fire was flying about in such a way 
 that there seemed little chance of our escaping, but we checked 
 her progress towards us, by firing into her, and in the act of 
 hauling out, we were rejoiced to see a welcome sea-breeze alter 
 the direction of the flames aloft, the same sea-breeze soon reach- 
 ed her hull, and we had the satisfaction in a few minutes to see 
 her touch the shore to which she belonged. 
 
 The guns were now so much heated by the incessant fire 
 kept up, that we were forced to reduce the cartridges nearly 
 one-half, as well as to wait their cooling before reloading ; the 
 men, too, were so reduced at some guns, that they required the 
 assistance of the others to work them ; the aftermost gun on 
 the gangway had only two men left untouched. Between 
 seven and eight o'clock, the fire of the enemy's guns had sen- 
 sibly diminished, and their people were running in crowds 
 from the demolished works to the great gate of the city ; they 
 were distinctly seen in all their movements by the light of their 
 burning navy and arsenal. The battery in the upper angle of 
 the town, which was too high to fire upon, kept up a galling 
 fire, and another farther to the eastward was still at work. To 
 bring our broadside to bear on it, a hawser was run out to the 
 Severn, on our larboard bow, the ship was swung to the proper 
 bearing, and we soon checked them. At. 45 minutes past nine, 
 the squadron began to haul out, some making sail, and taking 
 advantage of a light air off the land, while others were towing 
 and warping : the only sail which we had fit to set, was the 
 main-topmast stay-sail, and this was of too stout canvas to feel 
 the breeze ; the boats of our own ship were unable to move her, 
 after a kedge-anchor, which was run out to the length of the 
 stream-cable, had come home; thus we were left, dependant 
 either on a breeze or the assistance of the squadron. An offi- 
 cer was sent to tell the admiral our situation, but the boat was 
 sunk from under the crew, who were picked up by another ; a 
 second boat was more successful, and the admiral ordered all 
 the boats he could collect to our assistance. At this time the 
 Severn, near us, had caught the breeze, and was moving steadily 
 out ; a hawser was made fast to her mizen-chains, secured 10 its. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 319 
 
 oare end, which had just sufficient length to reach the painter 
 of the headmost boat, towing; by this means the Leander' s 
 head was checked round, and we had again the gratification to 
 see her following the others of the squadron. The small por 
 tion of our sails were set to assist our progress, but without the 
 help of the Severn there we should have remained ; our mizen- 
 topmast fell into the main-top, shot through. When the Alge- 
 rines saw us retiring they returned to the guns which they had 
 previously abandoned, and again commenced a fire on the boats, 
 which made the water literally in a foam ; this fire was return- 
 ed by our quarter guns, but with very little effect. As we left 
 the land, the breeze increased, the Severn cast off her tow, and 
 our boats returned on board; at 25 minutes past eleven we fired 
 our last gun, and the cannonade was succeeded by a storm of 
 thunder and lightning. 
 
 At midnight we anchored within three miles of the scene of 
 action ; the report of a gun on shore was still heard at inter- 
 vals, but all was soon quiet, except the shipping in the mole, 
 which continued to burn, keeping all around brilliantly illumi- 
 nated. We now attempted to furl sails, but the men were so 
 thoroughly stiffened by the short period of inaction since the 
 firing ceased, that they stuck almost powerless to the yards ; 
 after great exertion, the gaskets were somehow passed round 
 the yards, and the labors of the day ended ; grog was served 
 out, and the hammocks piped down, but few had the inclination 
 to hang them up. 
 
 Soon after daylight we mustered at quarters, and found that 
 16 officers and men were killed, and 120 wounded; the three 
 ,ower masts badly wounded, every spar wounded, except the 
 spanker-boom ; the shrouds cut in all parts, leaving the masts 
 unsupported, which would have fallen had there been the least 
 motion ; the running gear entirely cut to pieces ; the boats all 
 shot through; the bulwarks riddled with grape and musketry; 
 96 round-shot in the starboard side, some of them between wind 
 and water ; the guns were all uninjured to any extent, and re- 
 mained, the only part of the Leander, efficient. 
 
 At nine o'clock, Capt. Mitchell came on board from Lord 
 Exmouth, to thank Capt. Chetham for the position taken up by 
 the Leander, and for the able support she had given him 
 throughout the day. 
 
 The town had a very different appearance this morning to 
 that which it presented the day before. Instead of clean white 
 wails, decorated with flags, and a mole well filled with ship- 
 ping, there was but the ruins of a town ; a few houses in the 
 23 
 
320 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 upper part remained untouched, but lower down it was ona 
 undistinguishable mass ; smoke rising from the fragments of 
 the ships destroyed was seen in many directions, and the 
 wrecks of boats and larger vessels were drifting about un- 
 claimed by either party. 
 
 The ship's company were again at work, clearing decks, 
 unbending sails, and making every preparation to renew the 
 action ; but at noon we had the satisfaction to hear that the 
 Dey had accepted the terms which were offered him the day 
 before ; at the same time that this information was conveyed to 
 the squadron, a general order was issued to offer up " public 
 thanksgiving to Almighty God for the signal victory obtained 
 by the arms of England." 
 
 On this day the bodies of our departed shipmates were rang- 
 ed on gratings along the upper-deck for interment ; the captain 
 read the funeral service in the presence of the whole crew as- 
 sembled round, and when he came to the passage, "we commit 
 their bodies to the deep," the remains of officers and men were 
 launched into the ocean, within three miles of the spot where 
 they met their fate. The wounded were made as comfortable 
 as a ship could make them ; they were placed in cots, hung up 
 on the main-deck, occupying the whole space between the main- 
 mast and cabin-windows, and they received from the officers 
 all the fresh stock which they possessed. 
 
 On the 31st of August, Admiral Milne rehoisted his flag in 
 the Leander, and sailed the following day for England with 
 dispatches ; but her passage to Gibraltar was so tedious, on 
 account of her being under jury top-masts and yards, that he 
 shifted his flag to the Glasgow, and proceeded in her, leaving 
 us to make the best of our way. At the end of September we 
 arrived at Spithead. 
 
 DESTRUCTION OF THE JANISSARIES. 
 
 The account of the destruction of this formidable and turbu- 
 lent body of Turkish soldiers, by Mahmood, the present Sultan, 
 is from "Mac Farlane, Constantinople in 1828." The imme- 
 diate cause of the revolt and destruction of the Janissaries, was 
 their unwillingness to conform to the new discipline which the 
 Sultan is endeavoring to introduce into his army. 
 
 " Although the Janissaries apparently submitted to a res- 
 traint so uncongenial to their habits of licentiousness, Mahmood 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 321 
 
 knew that they were only waiting for an opportunity to break 
 out into violence and rebellion, and he therefore arranged things 
 in such a manner that they should do so when it suited his own 
 purpose. A blow struck by an Egyptian officer, was the im- 
 mediate cause of the Janissaries' last rising. 
 
 " When the Janissaries declared, as usual, their revolt, by 
 reversing their pilaff-kettles in the square of the Et-meidan, and 
 invoking the name of the Hadji-Bektach, their sainted patron, 
 the Sultan was coolly seated in a kiosk of Beshik-tash, on the 
 Bosphorus, about a mile and a half from the city, with a coun- 
 cil composed of all the principal Osmanlis within call ; the 
 Topji-Bashi was ready with his guns and grape-shot ; the 
 Agha-Pasha of Yenikeui had a formidable body, on whom he 
 could rely, ready to move at a moment's notice ; the Bostandjis 
 were under arms within the walls of the seraglio, and the 
 Galiondjis were masters of the port, and could interrupt any 
 communications with the city by sea. The first fury of the in- 
 surgents was directed against the Janissary-Agha ; but his per- 
 son was secure in the council, and they found nothing in hia 
 palace but a number of old women, a portion of his harem 
 which, from their low value, he had not cared to remove, and 
 his kehaya, or lieutenant, who, it should appear, had not been 
 admitted to all the secrets of the plot. The first of these inmates 
 (according to precedent, in which age and ugliness were never 
 a protection,) the Janissaries brutally abused ; the last, they cut 
 to pieces. They next proceeded, gathering on their way an in- 
 crease of strength from the mob and their brethren of the new 
 school, who tore off their tactico uniforms, to the palace of the 
 Porte, which they battered to pieces, and pillaged or destroyed 
 whatever was in it. As the papers might contain the abomi- 
 nable registers of their organization, and the history of their 
 disgrace, they condemned all the archives to the flames — pro- 
 ducing more light from Turkish records and diplomacy than 
 had perhaps ever before been elicited from their palpable ob- 
 scurity. 
 
 " This was the last of their exploits. The topjis landed well 
 prepared, under the walls of the seraglio, from their barracks 
 at Tophana, which are situated at the opposite entrance of the 
 port, at not much more than half a mile's distance. The Agha- 
 Pasha descended the Bosphorus, and poured his forces into the 
 city — the Janissaries neglecting to oppose these landings. The 
 Sultan and all his grandees, confident in the means of his pro- 
 tection, entered the seraglio, took down the sangiac-sherifi\ or 
 sacred standard of Mahomet, and, headed by a number of Oule- 
 
32Q HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 mas reciting apposite passages from the Koran, proceeded forth 
 with to :he imperial mosque of Achmet, or the square of the 
 Hippoarome, at a very few paces from the palace. Here the 
 Janissaries lost their only remaining chance of success, which 
 would have been to make one general and determined rush to 
 seize the person of Mahmood ; but they were deterred by the 
 apprehensions of his being killed in the attack ; his sons were 
 children — infants ; they could not succeed : the life of the Sul 
 tan and the existence of the Ottoman empire were identified 
 and sacred ; and having no imperial brother or cousin to rally 
 round, they retired to shout Hadji-Bektash, and spit upon the 
 tactico uniforms, and beat their caldrons, in the ' place of 
 meat,'* where they were speedily to be made meat for dogs. 
 The Sultan's procession in the mean time gained the interior 
 of the spacious mosque, and there removing the envelopes of 
 green silk from the sacred relic, the sangiac-sheriff was dis- 
 played, and the Sultan, the mufti, and Oulemas in concert, pro- 
 nounced a curse and a sentence of eternal dissolution on the 
 Janissary body that had existed for four centuries and a half. 
 
 " To give a color to the extremities he was determined to 
 resort to, the Sultan dispatched a promise of pardon to the in- 
 surgents, on conditions he well knew they would never accept. 
 When their scornful reply, and their demand for the blood of 
 their enemies and of ' the subverters of the ancient usages of 
 the empire' were received, Mahmood ordered a general attack, 
 having secured the mufti's fetva, which gave a spiritual sanc- 
 tion to the destruction of all that should resist the imperial arms. 
 The topjis and their artillery, supported by the troops of the 
 Agha-Pasha, hurried through the different narrow streets that 
 open on the Et-meidan square. If the Janissaries had had a 
 few intelligent officers to direct their movements, the final result 
 might have been delayed, and their fate somewhat different; but 
 all such officers had been gained by the Sultan, and they were 
 abandoned to their own blindness and stupidity. Instead of 
 keeping open their communications with the gates of the city 
 on the land side, and the country beyond the walls, they suf- 
 fered themselves to be surrounded in a crowded square. They 
 saw the topjis deboucher on the front and the flanks of the square, 
 and point their guns, but they did not move until the artillery 
 was heard rattling over the paved streets in their rear, and when 
 they did move, every avenue was occupied by the enemy. Their 
 
 * Et-meidan is the name of the great square where the Janissaries assem- 
 bled. Jft signifying meat, and meidan square or place. 
 
H1ST0K1GAL CABINET. 323 
 
 tardy movement was however tremendous ; it was the rush of 
 a compact mass of thousands ; grape-shot might rake that mass 
 with tremendous effect, but the original impulse might carry 
 the desperate survivors over the guns before they could be re- 
 loaded, and there were but two pieces of artillery, insufficient- 
 ly supported, in the avenue to which they were advancing. When 
 the topjis saw the dreadful wave rolling towards them, and 
 neard their brethren calling on their prophet, and on other ob- 
 jects of common adoration, they wavered — they turned from 
 their guns. This was the awful crisis. A determined officer 
 of the topjis, known by the significant name of Kara-djehen- 
 nem (or Black Hell) rushed to one of the guns, and fired it, by 
 discharging his pistol over the priming. The effect of grape- 
 shot on the solid body cooped up in a narrow street, was horri- 
 ble ; the impulse, even of despair, did not suffice to impel the 
 Janissaries forward ; they were thrown back towards the square, 
 and another flight of grape from the second gun completed 
 their route and discomfiture. These two guns pealed the knell 
 of the sons of Hadji-Bektash, and Kara-djehennem was avow- 
 edly the hero of the day. 
 
 " What remained was of easy execution ; the troops rushed 
 from every avenue on the square. The public criers, and other 
 ;tgents of the government scattered through the city to give no- 
 tice of the decisions of the Sultan and the mufti, and to awaken 
 the reverential awe for the sangiac-sherifF, produced a decided 
 turn in the popular feeling, and the peaceful denizens of Con- 
 stantinople rushed to the scene of action, repeating the anathe- 
 mas against the Janissaries. The vein of kindred blood once 
 opened, it flowed line a torrent without exciting sympathy, and 
 in a brief space the hearts of gathered thousands were anima- 
 ted with one unrelenting spirit — with one aim — the utter anni- 
 hilation of the Janissaries. Even those who, in the natural 
 state of their minds, would have retired, in their timidity and 
 aversion to deeds of blood, were now carried on by the general 
 stream ; and from the same feeling which throws a pack of 
 whelps on the dog beaten by his antagonist, this mob mechan- 
 ically added its weight to crush the falling Janissaries." 
 
 But besides those who fell in this day of blood, Mahmood 
 caused many thousands more to be strangled and thrown into 
 he Bosphorus, while only a few hundreds were condemned 
 to the milder punishment of imprisonment for life. The Asia 
 tics, who had enrolled themselves among this once so formida 
 able body, were sent away from the capital, without money or 
 provisions, and many of them perished from want on the roads 
 
324 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 to their distant homes. The government seized on the proper- 
 ty of all those who had been killed or banished, which is va- 
 riously estimated at from twelve to twenty thousand pounds 
 
 EXPLOITS OF KANARIS. 
 
 [From the United Service Journal.] 
 
 While we entertain no very high opinion of the Greeks, as 
 a nation, we are desirous of appreciating the high merit of 
 some individuals. We have witnessed various instances of ad- 
 mirable devotion and patriotism ; and while many were dis 
 tinguished by sagacity and courage, others, possessing wealth 
 and comfort, ruined themselves by generous contributions to the 
 cause. It is the exploits of one of these heroes, Constantino 
 Kanaris, that we are now about to relate, and the story will be 
 told in very nearly his own words. We should observe, that, 
 at the time of which we shall speak, the Greek fleet consisted 
 of about 180 vessels, of various sizes, and was manned by from 
 15 to 20,000 seamen. These ships were chiefly fitted out by 
 the spirited natives of Hydra, Spezzia, Psara, and Samos ; but 
 though the naval prowess of the insurgents was loudly bruited, 
 it was but little superior to that of the Turks, who are, perhaps, 
 the most contemptible maritime enemies that can possibly be 
 found afloat. Instead of a decided plan of operations, the pa- 
 triot, sailors took to piracy, and no other idea of conquering the 
 naval force of the incautious Ottoman than by fire-ships, which, 
 as an exclusive mode of warfare, must be condemned ; while 
 against the Turks, whom a strict fatalism renders singularly 
 callous and careless of human life, it is inefficient. 
 
 The atrocious massacre at Scio, in the summer of 1822, had 
 struck fury into the minds of the Greeks who were cruising in 
 the vicinity ; but their leaders did not seem to partake the feeling, 
 if we may judge by their discreditable inactivity. But that hor- 
 rid carnage had hardly ceased, when it was reserved for Ka- 
 naris to deal retribution upon some of the perpetrators. 
 
 Towards the close of the Ramadam, the Greek squadron re- 
 turned to their respective ports, without having made any se- 
 rious disposition to attack the Turkish fleet at Scio, although 
 they had twice entered the strait which divides that island from 
 Asia Minor, for the purpose. It was on the last of these oeca 
 sions, while losing sight of the enemy in the distance, that the 
 idea first struck Kanaris, that all had not been done which 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 325 
 
 ought to have been, and of the possibility of destroying some 
 of the ships single-handed by surprise. While pacing his deck 
 he matured a plan, and immediately on his arrival at Psara, 
 made a proposal to his superiors, which was most readily ac- 
 ceded to. 
 
 Previous to this, Kanaris had commanded the PlatofF fire- 
 ship, with such credit as to have gained general notice ; and in 
 the retreat through the Spalmador passage, he dropped astern 
 of his companions, backed his main top-sail, and was the last 
 out of the straits, a station of his own choice, in order, he said, 
 to protect the rear of the fleet. This afforded him an opportu- 
 nity of observing the sluggishness of the larger ships of the 
 enemy ; and from that moment he felt so thoroughly persuaded 
 of success, that he resolved to venture at all hazards, notwith- 
 standing two other vessels, commanded by Nicolao Apostolo, 
 the admiral's son, had failed but a very short time before, ow- 
 ing, it was thought, to their being fired too soon. 
 
 Hearing the intention of Kanaris, the captain of a Hydriot 
 brig, Andrea Pepino, volunteered his services to accompany 
 him, and was accepted. Their two vessels were carefully fitted 
 for the deadly purpose, and manned with picked crews of twen- 
 ty-three men each. The combustibles were of the most inflam- 
 mable and inextinguishable description ; and two large swift- 
 rowing boats were given them to effect their escape in. Thus 
 equipped, they sailed for the port of Kaloni, in Mytilene, in 
 order, from its advantageous position to the northward of Scio, 
 to await there the opportunity of the first northerly wind for 
 carrying their project into execution, as well as to create less 
 suspicion by coming from that quarter. 
 
 Owing to light, baffling winds, they were three days on their 
 passage to Kaloni, and it was not till the third day after that 
 they got a breeze suitable to their wishes. In the mean time 
 they amused themselves, fishing and sporting in and about the 
 harbor. 
 
 On Wednesday, the 19th of June, at noon, (the sixth day 
 from Psara,) they sailed, with a steady breeze from the N. E., 
 steering direct for Spalmador island, intending to get within 
 the straits of Scio as soon after dusk as possible. On near- 
 ing Spalmador, they got sight of the look-out Turkish squad- 
 ron of five sail, (three brigs and two schooners,) cruizing to 
 the northward of the island; on which they hauled up and 
 shaped a course as if bound into Smyrna, but kept the yards 
 fine, to check the vessel's way as much as possible. This de- 
 ception answered, for so Uttle did the Turks understand their 
 
 28 
 
?26 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 duty as cruisers, that they made no disposition to follow. An- 
 other difficulty arose ; an English man-of-war hove in sight, 
 bound into the gulf, and Kanaris was well aware of the vigi- 
 lance which British sailors use ; he was, therefore, however 
 perilous, under the necessity of showing his colors to her, but 
 he hauled them down again immediately after, to prevent their 
 being made out by the Turks. 
 
 At sunset he had lost sight of the Turks behind Karabouna, 
 on which he altered his course, and rounded the cape, keeping 
 the main close on board. As he approached the entrance of 
 the straits the wind gradually died away ; and when abreast of 
 Green Island, about 10 P. M. it fell nearly calm. Pepino, the 
 Hydriot captain, hailed him at this time, and asked Kanaris, 
 44 What do you intend doing ? do you think it safe to go on ? 
 the wind is very light ; will it not be better to give it up for to- 
 night, and take a more favorable opportunity 1 ? If we get be- 
 calmed inside the islands the chances will be against our get- 
 ting out again." Kanaris boldly replied, 4 ' There is nothing to 
 fear ; we shall have a breeze presently, and we have some time 
 yet till day-light." A short time after, the Hydriot hailed him 
 again to the same effect, and he answered, with something of 
 asperity in his tone, " It is my intention to proceed, come what 
 may ; I will either do the business at once, or not at all." 
 Some of Kanaris' crew now began to feel dissatisfied ; and, 
 hearing them mutter about the chances of being taken, and that 
 it would be better to make the attempt on some other night, he 
 called them aft and upbraided them with their wavering : " Did 
 I ask you to come with me?" demanded he ; 44 was it not your 
 own voluntary choice 7 Did not ye beg of me to take ye ? If 
 ye are tired of the thing already, and want to get home again, 
 ye had better jump overboard and be off at once; and if that 
 won't please ye, I must declare that ye are all under my com- 
 mand, and if one of you dare open your mouths again on the 
 subject, I will cut his throat that instant." From that moment 
 he had no further trouble with them, and they obeyed every 
 order implicitly. 
 
 On nearing Hippo island, the five look-out cruizers were ob- 
 served to leeward of Spalmador, standing across towards the 
 main, on the larboard tack ; and a large ship on the opposite 
 tack, was seen in the middle of the channel. This ship show- 
 ed a light, which was answered by the others, each of whom 
 showed one. This was a ticklish moment; Kanaris braced his 
 yards in, and kept them pointed as neai as the wind would al- 
 low, and on towards the Turks, to prevent their seeing him 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 327 
 
 The land here being very high, by keeping close under it, he 
 luckily passed unperceived, and the breeze freshening up again, 
 soon carried him out of sight. 
 
 To leeward of Hippo island the land trends down to a low 
 point, off which lies a shoal, which he bordered on as close as 
 the lead would permit, till, having rounded it, he- braced sharp 
 up, and hauled directly across for the town of Scio. When 
 about mid- channel over he saw the Turkish fleet with their 
 lights up for the festival of the Bairam: " Look, my lads !" 
 said he to his crew, "those fellows shall have better lights be- 
 fore their feasting is over." But the body of them were ra- 
 ther on his weather-bow, owing to the wind having drawn 
 more to the N. W. off the hills of Scio. This was unfortunate, 
 as Kanaris had allowed for hauling his wind from the shoal- 
 point sufficient room for passing to windward of the whole, 
 from whence he intended to bear up and choose his object. Two 
 of the largest ships, however, being the leewardmost, still laid 
 within his reach, and he stood towards them, while they, hav- 
 ing no suspicion of an enemy eluding the vigilance of their 
 look-out, supposed they were vessels belonging to their own 
 fleet. It was about two in the morning, when the weather- 
 most ship of the two, which proved to be the Capudan Pasha, 
 hailed Kanaris as he approached, who, without making reply, 
 steadily continued his course. Pepino, the Hydriot, now grap- 
 pled this ship on the larboard side, and applying the fire there, 
 spread consternation on board; but she was injudiciously pla- 
 ced, and unfortunately kindled too soon, so that the prodigious 
 efforts of the Turkish crew at length succeeded in disengaging 
 her, after which she was sunk. This was but a momentary re- 
 spite for the Capudan Pasha, for in a few minutes Kanaris laid 
 him aboard athwart his bowsprit, and in that position set fire to 
 the fatal train. In the panic, no sort of opposition was made, nor 
 were there many people apparently now upon her decks ; but 
 notwithstanding, Kanaris, feeling anxious to escape, hurried his 
 men into the boat ; one of them, however, a fellow full of hu- 
 mor, begged to stop a little, something having just occurred to 
 him, which he said he wished to tell the Turks, and catching up 
 die trumpet, he bawled out — " There is a fire for you — put it 
 out if you can." This timely joke added considerably to the 
 spirits and confidence of the Greeks ; and they pulled away 
 before the wind, to escape by the southern end of the straits, 
 where, meeting no impediment, they arrived by daylight. At 
 ibout 10 A. M. they got on board one of their cruisers off the 
 
328 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 little isle of Veneccia, and at sunset anchored at Psara, amid* 
 the loud acclamations of their compatriots. 
 
 In the mean time the flames spread over the ill-fated line-of- 
 battle ship with such rapidity, that every effort to save her was 
 utterly useless; and within three quarters of an hour she blew 
 up with a deafening explosion. The Capudan Pasha, though 
 severely wounded, was unwilling to quit his ship, but as the 
 fire increased, his officers forced him into a boat along side ; a 
 mast, however, which immediately fell, wounded him mortally 
 on the head, and sunk the boat. Fie was brought ashore on 
 part of the wreck, and expired within an hour after; and at 10 
 o'clock the next morning, at the very moment that Kanaris had 
 accomplished his escape, was buried in the castle of Scio. 
 With the crew, and the prisoners on board, among whom were 
 about 80 Greek women, there were upwards of 1200 people 
 destroyed. 
 
 This success led to a second expedition. On the arrival of 
 the Turkish fleet off Tenedos, the Greek cruisers having pre- 
 viously quitted the coasts and returned to their respective ports, 
 Kanaris was appointed to disturb them. Having made all his ar- 
 rangements, he sailed from Psara on Friday the 8th of Novem- 
 ber, 1822, at sunset, with two well-equipped fire-vessels, the one 
 a brig called the Emperor Alexander, carrying 21 men, inclu- 
 ding himself, and the greater part of whom had served under 
 him in the former expedition to Scio ; the other, a small coast- 
 ing saccoleva, as abetter deception than two square-rigged ves- 
 sels, with the same number of hands, commanded by Giorgio 
 Nicolas Brastanos. Two settees accompanied them as an es- 
 cort, the largest having 34 men and 8 guns, the smallest 28 
 men and 3 guns, for the purpose of receiving them on board 
 on the completion of their enterprise. Accordingly, on the noon 
 of Saturday, the 9th, they were off Cape Sigri, in Mytilene, 
 with light airs from the southward, having run about forty-five 
 miles since the preceding evening at sunset. 
 
 At the close of day they were about half-way between Sigri 
 and Cape Baba, steering for the latter, when the wind freshen- 
 ing gradually, the saccoleva was taken in tow. Having arri- 
 ved off Cape Baba, the two settees were sent away to rendezvous 
 to the S. W. of Tenedos, within sight of the anchorage; there 
 to wait, and, in the event of success, to make the best of their 
 way, immediately that they observed the fire break out, to the 
 edge of the great shoal on the east side of Lemnos, where Ka- 
 naris intended to pull, under the idea of escaping pursu", if 
 chased by Turkish frigates, by getting into shallow water. If 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 329 
 
 no fiie was perceived, then they were to take it for granted the 
 fleet was not at Tenedos, in which case Kanaris was to run on 
 hrough the roadstead to Imbro, where the settees were to re- 
 join him, and from thence concert further measures against the 
 fleet in the Dardanelles. 
 
 Having parted company with the settees, Kanaris hau±ed in 
 slose under the land, keeping it as close aboard as possible, to 
 prevent being seen by the Turkish look-out ships. They pass- 
 ed a corvette standing off on the larboard tack ; but as she paid 
 no attention to him, they supposed her to be French. At ele- 
 ven he was obliged to cast off the tow, the breeze having 
 freshened considerably ; and to enable the saccoleva to keep 
 up, he took in his top-gallant-sails, going between six and seven 
 knots. 
 
 About midnight they saw Tenedos ; and a few minutes after- 
 wards observed three Turkish frigates under easy sail stand- 
 ing off on the larboard tack. These our hero passed astern of 
 unperceived, by hugging the shore close on board. To the 
 northward of Scorpiata a long shoal runs off, which obliged 
 him to keep a greater offing ; and as he drew out from under 
 the land, the frigates tacked, and one of them set her foresail 
 as if to chase him. But this was only an inference ; for the 
 Turks, ignorant of what was being wafted against them in the 
 darkness, took no other notice of them. In a few minutes 
 more, Kanaris discovered the lights of the flag ship ; and in 
 about a quarter of an hour plainly distinguished three huge 
 line-of-battle ships riding towards the main land, with their 
 heads to the westward, and the wind on the larboard beam, 
 owing to a strong current setting to windward through the 
 roadstead out of the Dardanelles. The frigates and small craft 
 were lying more in shore, near the Troad, relying on the look- 
 out squadron for protection. 
 
 The saccoleva being still astern, and Kanaris perceiving that 
 the ships with the lights aboard (which he therefore took to be 
 the flag) lay to leeward of the nearest line-of-battle ship, and 
 that to get at her he must pass within hail of the latter, he de- 
 cided on assigning the nearest ship, as the least difficult, to the 
 saccoleva, in order that he might not be accused of acting un- 
 fairly, and that, by not lighting his own vessel first, his compan- 
 ion might have a better chance of succeeding. Besides which, 
 he dryly observed, the first in command was always his quarry. 
 
 Having thus decided, he stood direct for his unsuspecting 
 prey. Fortunately the first ship paid no attention to him, though 
 he passed so near as to hear the voices of her erew ; but instant- 
 
 28* 
 
330 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 ly afterwards he was hailed by the second, who, on receiving 
 no answer, fired two shot at him, one of which went through 
 the head of his mainsail, and a third shot was fired from the 
 other ship at the saccoleva. To prevent the chance of cutting 
 away his running gear, Kanaris racked the halliards and ties 
 aloft, and in this manner, with full way on him, and a fresh 
 breeze, going six or seven knots, he ran his vessel on board, 
 stem on to the larboard bow of his antagonist, under the fore- 
 chains, his bowsprit luckily going into one of the ports. It 
 was his original intention to have steered for her spritsail-yard, 
 but observing her lying broadside on, he was afraid the fire 
 would be too much ahead, and therefore steered a course for 
 her foremast. As he drew near her, he perceived a multitude 
 of people on her poop, all in fright and confusion, calling aloud 
 to their prophet, and exclaiming, " She is a fire-ship ! a pirate ! 
 an infidel ! Fire away ! sink her !" with other cries of terror. 
 A great many of them, at the same time, leaped into a boat 
 astern ; but when once Kanaris was alongside, no effort was 
 made, nor even a musket fired at him. 
 
 Just as he was approaching his object, Kanaris sent his men 
 into the boat on the larboard side of the brig, sitting himself 
 on the larboard gunwale, from whence he conned, as she was 
 steered to her destined position ; and when thoroughly grappled 
 fast, lighted the train from the boat, and hailed the Turk — 
 " We are no Austrians — (a report having reached him that he 
 wore Austrian colors at Scio) — nor pirates, but true Psaraotes 
 and the same that burnt your Capudan Pasha at Scio !" The 
 flames flew fore and aft in an instant, and the breeze being very 
 fresh, they communicated almost as rapidly with the Turk, 
 whence the most dreadful shrieks and yells were now proceed- 
 ing from people who were shortly silent for ever. 
 
 The same instant that his own vessel was kindled, Kanaris 
 had the mortification of perceiving that the saccoleva was very 
 improperly fired. Being lighted too soon, as at Scio in the in- 
 stance of the Hydriot, the vessel did not get a thorough hold, 
 and broke adrift without accomplishing her object. This was 
 just what he anticipated, and to prevent the probability of which, 
 he had so nobly resigned his own claim to Captain Brastanos. 
 No sooner had he shoved off in his boat, than he observed a 
 Turkish frigate steering directly towards him, and to avoid her 
 he stood close in to the town of Tenedos, where she iost sight 
 of him under the land, which he kept close on board, pulling 
 head to wind, and when clear of the south point of the island, 
 tossed up his mast and made sail for Lemnos, where with the. 
 
Greek Fire Ships.— Page 330. 
 
 Attempt to assassinate Stanislaus.— Page 3C7 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 331 
 
 assistance of their oars and a good breeze, they arrived by 
 eight o'clock. When abreast of the eastern point, about half 
 an hour after he had quitted the fire-ship, he observed the line- 
 of-battle ship entirely in flames ; her three masts, as he said, 
 burning " like three candles." The other ships of the fleet 
 were firing guns, and, in the greatest confusion, falling on board 
 of each other, some with their cables cut, others with their sails 
 loose, and some apparently on the shoal. There being a swell 
 on, and a fresh breeze, much distress and mischief must have 
 ensued. The light of the brilliant flames enabled him clearly 
 to distinguish the different objects. It was about three o'clock 
 on Sunday morning of the 10th when he laid his desolating 
 brig along side. 
 
 Finding the two settees punctual to their rendezvous off Lem- 
 nos, Kanaris immediately went on board, and there being no 
 signs of the other boat with the crew of the saccoleva, he sent 
 the settee appointed as her escort to look out to windward of 
 Tenedos, while he bore up towards the N. E. end of the island, 
 to be ready in case the boat should have rowed through the 
 roadstead, and had come out at that end. In about an hour after 
 the saccoleva's settee made signal of having picked up the boat, 
 upon which they both made sail to the westward, undisturbed 
 by any of the imbecile cruisers of their enemy, whose frigates, 
 with common attention ought to have caught them. The whole 
 of this enterprise was so ably and suddenly executed, that not 
 the most trifling casualty occurred to the Greeks, and every 
 man returned to Psara without a hair of his head singed. Con- 
 trary winds detained the settees at S. Giorgio di Skyros three 
 days, where they were received with the greatest joy and hos- 
 pitality by their countrymen. The next evening Brastanos 
 reached Psara, and the following morning Kanaris returned 
 into port, under a salute from every gun in the island. On 
 landing, he was met by a procession, which conducted him to 
 the church, where a public and solemn thanksgiving was offer- 
 ed up to the Most High, for the success which had attended 
 their hero's undertaking. 
 
 Kanaris afterwards attempted to set a Turkish ship on fire 
 m the day-time, and while under sail ; but his vessel falling 
 astern, he missed his aim, and was obliged to retreat with ths 
 utmost precipitation to effect his escape, two of his men being 
 killed, and himself wounded in the hand. 
 
 In 1824, the capture of Psara by the Turkish admiral, and 
 its re-capture by the Psaraote sailors, gave ample employment 
 to the energies of Kanaris, who was at every post where he 
 
332 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 could be serviceable. In August of the same year, the Otto- 
 man forces having made a descent on Samos, a Greek squad 
 ron, under the command of Giorgius Taktouri, advanced to re- 
 lieve that important island, when several skirmishes took place. 
 On the morning of the 16th, the Pasha stood out with twenty- 
 two ships and vessels, and Taktouri met him with sixteen un- 
 der his own flag, and some vessels commanded by Kanaris, 
 who had a sort of roving commission. An obstinate combat 
 ensued, in which our hero tried all his art to hook an enemy, 
 without being able to close. The Turks were, however, thrown 
 into disorder and retreated. But on the following morning 
 they again approached under a leading breeze, on which the 
 Greek admiral ordered all his fire-ships to make sail, under the 
 escort of the different ships of war, and there was every ap- 
 pearance of both sides fighting to extremity. 
 
 At 10 A. M., the brulot of Captain Demetrius Zapli approach- 
 ed a heavy frigate and grappled with her, but by the freshness 
 of the breeze and the assistance of some galleys, she escaped 
 the impending danger. Though this attempt was unsuccessful, 
 it afforded the daring Kanaris ' an opportunity of coming up 
 with the same frigate, and he succeeded by 1 1 o'clock in grap- 
 pling her whilst under full sail. In an awfully short space of 
 time she was all in flames ; and the devouring element pene- 
 trating quickly to the magazine, she blew up with a horrid 
 crash, not only launching her own 600 men into eternity, but 
 proving fatal to several vessels inshore of her. On this brilliant 
 occasion, Kanaris lost only two of his crew. 
 
 Kanaris is a modest man, of plain manners, and great appa- 
 rent sincerity, requiring to be drawn out before the foregoing 
 particulars could be elicited from him. He is the master of a 
 merchant vessel, and occasionally acts as pilot to foreign ves- 
 sels, a duty for which he is admirably calculated, from his per- 
 fect knowledge of the Archipelago. He is poor, but contented, 
 being happy that he lives as respectably as any of his relations, 
 and that he has not lost ground since he began the world. He 
 has a wife and two children ; the former takes a pride in her 
 husband's career, and in the young Constantine they fondly 
 predict an ornament to the islands. When requested to sit for 
 his portrait, (now in our possession,) he smiled, saying, they 
 must make the picture very ugly to be like him, "unless th»: 
 -mist could catch him setting fire to the train of a brulct." 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 333 
 
 THE BATTLE OF NAVARINO. 
 
 [By an officer engaged.] 
 
 The details of naval actions have seldom been presented tc 
 the public eye with the same minute and striking descriptions 
 which have of late years characterized the glowing- narratives 
 of military warfare. The battle-field, with all its imposing array 
 and glorious incident ; its hopes, and fears, and doubts ; the attack 
 and repulse ; the reeking bayonet, and the flashing blade, and 
 deafening huzzas of victory ; — all these and more have become 
 familiar household tales ; while fireside readers ponder over 
 them with wonder, admiration, and even envy of their fellow- 
 countrymen, who have rubbed shoulders with Death in his most 
 dreadful shapes, and have passed through the most fiery ordeal 
 which the spirit of man can brave. 
 
 He who writes these pages has remarked the advantages 
 which the narrative of the camp possesses over that of the 
 quarter-deck ; there is a gap in naval recital which yet remains 
 to be filHd with description and anecdote of "the little warlike 
 world," corresponding to those of the land service. The latter 
 is as extensive, abounding equally in promise; and yet it has 
 been comparatively but little examined. The navy possesses 
 numbers well qualified for the undertaking, who, by means of 
 simple relations, and the accompaniment of circumstantial detail, 
 might do ample justice to their subjects. 
 
 In endeavoring to present an accurate picture of the latest 
 naval engagement in which Britain has been engaged, the narra- 
 tor has been urged to portray the scene in such colors as may 
 serve to convey to unprofessional readers, with the fidelity of a 
 mere reporter, a vivid impression of the battle, and to beguile 
 them into a belief that they actually behold it in all its realities. 
 He has undertaken this task with diffidence and fear, conscious 
 that his rather unpracticed pen is inadequate to the exertion ; but 
 peace, half-pay, and inactivity, allow him plenty of leisure to 
 prosecute the attempt. He will drop as much as possible the 
 use of nautical terms, as his simple narrative may meet other eyes 
 than those of his messmates. 
 
 Whatever may be said of the political expediency of the battle 
 of Navarino, it cannot be disputed that it proved the British navy 
 still to contain within itself the same undiminished zeal and sea 
 manlike habits, the same skill and ardor and true-blue hearts 
 that it boasted in more perilous and stirring times, and pro- 
 claims to the surrounding nations the unimpaired resources and 
 24 
 
334 historical Cabinet. 
 
 power of England, and her well asserted pre-eminence on the 
 ocean. 
 
 We had been cruising- off the coast of the Morea, for the pro- 
 tection of trading vessels, and to watch the motions of the nu- 
 merous Greek pirates infesting the narrow seas and adjacent 
 islands. For fourteen months we had been thus actively em- 
 ployed, when the arrival of the Albion and Genoa, from Lisbon, 
 hinted to us, that some coercive measures were about to be used 
 against the Turks, to cause them to discontinue the extermina- 
 ting war they-carried on against the Greeks, and to evacuate 
 the country pursuant to the terms of the treaty of July, 1827. 
 The prospect of a collision with the Turkish fleet appeared to 
 be very agreeable to the ship's crew, as they had got a little 
 tired of their long confinement on board, and anxiously looked 
 for a speedy return to Malta to get ashore, which they had not 
 been able to do for upwards of a year. We again proceeded on 
 our protecting duty, and parted company with the admiral in 
 the Asia. In about six weeks we returned, and found that many 
 other British vessels had joined the Asia, while the squadrons of 
 France and Russia added to the number of the fleet, which alto- 
 gether presented an imposing attitude. 
 
 The Turkish and Egyptian fleets had arrived from the unsuc- 
 cessful attempt in the Gulf of Patras some time before, and lay 
 off the bay of Navarino, before they finally entered and took 
 up a position within the harbor. While the Ottoman fleet lay 
 off the bay, the Turkish troops were said to have committed 
 many unjustifiable outrages on the defenseless inhabitants of the 
 country adjacent to Navarino ; information of these oppressive 
 acts was conveyed to the British admiral, and, it is believed, 
 formed the grounds of a strong remonstrance on his part, ad- 
 dressed to the Turkish commanders, which hastened the collision 
 between the two armaments. These facts were generally known 
 throughout the fleet, and a " row 11 was eagerly expected. 
 
 About the beginning of October we had returned from our 
 cruise ; the men, ever since we had been in commission, had 
 been daily exercised at the guns, and, by firing at marks, they 
 had much improved in their practice. They were frequently 
 overheard expressing their anxious wish for the settlement of the 
 question with the Turks in one shape or other, that they might 
 have some leave on shore. Many shrewd and pithy remarks were 
 made on the Greek question. Some talkative tar would go on ex- 
 pounding his ideas to a listening group on the main-deck. Our 
 sailors certainly thought lightly of the seamanship of the Turks 
 and Egyptians. It seems also, that a secret spirit of emulation 
 
 \ 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 835 
 
 animated the whole of them in the event of a contest: they were 
 anxious the French and Russians should bear testimony to what 
 Old England was able to accomplish in her usual style ; and they 
 had another anxiety, lest their allies should outstrip them in en- 
 ergy or seamanship, or even approach an equality with them. 
 In fact, they seemed determined not even to be rivaled, and the 
 pre-eminence of the British flag was never more zealously 
 sought to be maintained by every individual in the fleet. 
 
 Before entering the bay, the Ottoman fleet lay at a distance of 
 ten or twelve miles from the allies. They appeared numerous, 
 with many small craft. Most of them bore the crimson flag fly- 
 ing at their peak, and on coming closer, a crescent and sword 
 were visible on the flags. Their ships looked well, and in toler- 
 able order ; the Egyptians were evidently superior to the Turks. 
 
 kittle communication took place between the allied and Turk- 
 ish fleets. The Dartmouth had gone into the bay twice, bear- 
 ing ;he terms proposed by the allied commanders to Ibrahim 
 Pacha. No satisfactory answer had been returned by the Otto- 
 man admiral, whose conduct appeared evasive and trifling, im- 
 plying a contempt for our prowess, and daring us to do our worst. 
 
 The Dartmouth having proceeded for the last time into the 
 bay, with the final requisitions, and having brought back no 
 satisfactory reply, on Saturday, the 20th of October, 1827, abou* 
 noon, Admiral Codrington, favored by a gentle sea breeze, bore 
 up under all sail for the mouth of the bay of Navarino. A buzz 
 ran instantly through the ship at the welcome intelligence of the 
 admiral's bearing up ; and 1 could easily perceive the hilarity 
 and exultation of the seamen, and their impatience for the con- 
 test. There was a look of grave determination on most of their 
 countenances ; and I could overhear their phrases of encourage- 
 ment to each other. Orders were given that dinner should be 
 got ready earlier than usual that day ; and all set to heartily at 
 their prog, as if nothing particular were going to happen. Our 
 ship's crew was chiefly composed of young men, who had never 
 seen a shot fired ; yet, to judge from their manner, one would 
 have thought them familiar with the business of fighting. The 
 decks were then cleared for action, and the ship was quite ready, 
 as we neared the mouth of the bay. 
 
 The Asia led the fleet, and was the first to enter the bay, foi 
 lowed by the ships in two columns. This was about one o'clock, 
 or rather later. Abreast of Sir Edward Codrington was the 
 French admiral, distinguished by the large white flag at the 
 mizen. Then came the Genoa and Albion, followed by the 
 Dartmouth, Talbot, and brigs, along with the French and Ru* 
 
836 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 sian squadrons, in more distant succession. Every sail was set, 
 so that the vast crowd of canvas that looked more bleached and 
 glittering in the rays of the sun, and contrasted with the deep 
 blue unclouded sky, presented a magnificent and spirit-stirring 
 spectacle. The breeze was just powerful enough to carry the 
 allied fleet forward at a gentle rate, and as the wind freshened a 
 little at times, it had the effect of causing the ships to heel to one 
 side in a graceful undulating manner, — the various flags and 
 pendants of the united nations puffing out occasionally from the 
 mast-heads. The sea was smooth, the weather rather warm, and 
 the air quite clear. As we neared the entrance of the bay, the 
 land presented all around a rugged steep appearance towards the 
 sea. In the distance, the mountains were visible, of a light blue, 
 with whitish clouds, apparently resting on their summits. The 
 town and castle of Navarino presented a bright picturesquedook, 
 and some spots of cultivation were to be seen. In the interior 
 there rose in the air what looked like the smoke of some con- 
 flagration, and such we all believed was the case, as the Turkish 
 soldiery had been employed in ravaging the country, and carry- 
 ing away the inhabitants. An encampment of tents lay near, 
 close to the castle, and large bodies of soldiers were easily dis- 
 cernible crowding on the batteries as we approached. We were 
 about five hundred yards distant from the castle. The breadth of 
 the entrance was about a mile. 
 
 When the Asia had arrived abreast of this castle, a boat 
 rowed from the shore, and came along side of her with a re- 
 quest from Ibrahim Pacha, that the allied fleets would not enter 
 the bay ; and just about that time, an unshotted gun was fired 
 from the castle, which we interpreted as a signal for the Otto- 
 man fleet to prepare for action. Close to the mouth of the bay, 
 the cluster of vessels was considerable, all bearing up under a 
 press of sail, $»nd in perfect order. Our ship was close on the 
 Asia's quarter. No opposition was made to our progress by 
 the batteries of Navarino, which was a matter of surprise to all, 
 as the men were ready at their quarters in momentary expecta- 
 tion of being attacked. To the spectators on the battlements our 
 fleet must have presented a beautiful, though a formidable, ap- 
 pearance. 
 
 As soon as we ha'l cleared the mouth of the bay, the Turko- 
 Egyptian fleet was seen ranged round from right to left, in the 
 form of an extensive crescent, in two lines, each ship with springs 
 on her cables. The large vessels formed the first, or inner line 
 of the crescent, with their broadsides presented ; whilst the small- 
 er craft filled up tke intervals in the second line, at the distance of 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 337 
 
 one hundred and fifty or two hundred yards. Evident signs of 
 hurry and bustle of preparation were exhibited on board their 
 ships, and it was clear that our coming had been unexpected, or 
 that they did not anticipate a fight so soon. Indeed, it was after- 
 wards ascertained from the Turkish vice-admiral, that their in- 
 tention was to treat us with courtesy, until a favorable opportu- 
 nity occurred of a strong breeze and darkness, of sending their 
 fireships amongst us, which were stationed near the mouth of 
 the bay, and then attacking and destroying us in the midst of 
 our confusion. But the firing of the blank gun had ensued un- 
 intentionally, and it was impossible to remedy their blunder. 
 They had, therefore, only to make the best of it. 
 
 Thus the combined fleets were in the center of the lion's den, and 
 the lists might be said to have been closed. The Asia, on passing 
 the mouth of Navarino, sailed onwards to where the Turkish 
 and Egyptian line-of-battle ships lay at anchor about three- 
 quarters of a mile farther up the bay, and anchored close abreast 
 one of their largest ships, bearing the flag of the Capitan Bey. 
 The Genoa took her station near the Asia, whilst the Albion 
 followed ; but the Turks being so closely wedged together, she 
 could not find space to pass between them to her appointed berth. 
 The ship of the Egyptian admiral lay as close to the Asia as 
 that of the Capitan Bey: a large double-banked frigate was 
 also near ; all these three ships being moored in front of the 
 crescent, close upon the Asia and Genoa. The wind by this time 
 had almost died away, consequently the Albion had to anchor 
 close along side the double-banked frigate. This failing of the 
 wind retarded considerably the progress of the ships, which 
 had not yet entered the bay, particularly the Russian ships, and 
 several of ours, which came later into action, and had to en- 
 counter the firing of the artillery of the castle. 
 
 The Egyptian fleet lay to the south-east ; and, as it was well 
 known that several French officers were serving on board, the 
 French Admiral was appointed to place his squadron abreast 
 of them. It appears, however, that, with one exception, all 
 these Frenchmen quitted the Egyptian fleet, and went onboard 
 an Austrian transport which lay off the coast. 
 
 The post assigned to the Cambrian, Talbot, and Glasgow, 
 along with the French frigate Armide, was along side of the 
 Turkish frigates at the left of the crescent on entering into the 
 bay ; whilst the Dartmouth, Mosquito, the Rose, and Philomel, 
 were ordered to keep a sharp look-out on the several fireships 
 lurking suspiciously at the extremities of the crescent, and ap- 
 parently ripe for mischief. 
 
 29 
 
838 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 It was strictly enjoined in the orders, that no gun was to be 
 fired, without a signal to that effect made by the admiral, un- 
 ess it should be in return for the shots fired at us by the Turk- 
 ish fleet. Each ship was to anchor with springs on her cables, 
 if time allowed ; and the orders concluded with the memorable 
 words of Nelson, " No captain can do very wrong who places 
 his ship along side of an enemy." 
 
 It was about two o'clock when we arrived at our station on 
 the left of the bay, and anchored. The men were immediately 
 sent aloft to furl the sails, which operation lasted a few minutes. 
 Whilst so employed, the Dartmouth, distant about half a mile 
 from our ship, had sent a boat, commanded by Lieutenant Fitz- 
 roy, to request the fireship to remove from her station ; a fire 
 of musketry ensued from the fireship into the boat, killing the 
 officer and several men. This brought on a return of small 
 arms from the Dartmouth and Syrene. Captain Davis, of the 
 Rose, having witnessed the firing of the Turkish vessel, went 
 in one of his boats to assist that of the Dartmouth ; and the 
 crew of these two boats were in the act of climbing up the 
 sides of the fireship, when she instantly exploded with a tre- 
 mendous concussion, blowing the men into the water, and kill- 
 ing and disabling several in the boats along side. Just about 
 this time, and before the men had descended from the yards, an 
 Egyptian double-banked frigate poured a broadside into our 
 ship. The captain gave instant orders to fire away ; and the 
 broadside was returned with terrible effect, every shot striking 
 the hull of the Egyptian frigate. The men were now hastily 
 descending the shrouds, while the captain sung out, " Now, my 
 lads ! down to the main-deck, and fire away as fast as you can." 
 The seamen cheered loudly as they fired the first broadside, 
 and continued to do so at intervals during the action. The 
 battle had actually commenced to windward before the Asia 
 and the Ottoman Admiral had exchanged a single shot ; and 
 the action in that part of the bay was brought on in nearly a 
 similar manner as in ours, by the Turks firing into the boat 
 dispatched by Sir E. Codrington to explain the mediatorial 
 views of the allies. The Greek pilot had been killed; and 
 ere the Asia's boat had reached the ship, the firing was unre- 
 mitting between the Asia, Genoa, and Albion, and the Turkish 
 ships. About half-past two o'clock the battle had become gene- 
 ral throughout the whole lines, and the cannonade was one 
 uninterrupted crash, louder than any thunder. Previous to the 
 Egyptian frigate firing into us, the men, not engaged in furling 
 the sails, tiaO stripped themselves to their duck-frocks, and were 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 339 
 
 binding their black silk neck-cloths round their heads and 
 waists, and some upon their left knees. A slight frown and 
 pressing together of the lips, were discernible in many. Seve- 
 ral of them, who were boarders, wore their cutlases at their 
 sides. All appeared greatly excited and resolute. 
 
 The Egyptian frigate which had fired into our ship, was dis- 
 tant about half a cable's length. Near her was another of the 
 same large class, together with a Turkish frigate and a cor- 
 vette. These four ships poured their broadsides into us without 
 intermission, for nearly a quarter of an hour ; but after a few 
 rounds, their firing became irregular and hasty, and many of 
 their shot injured our rigging. At the first broadside we re- 
 ceived, two men near me were instantly struck dead on the 
 deck. There was no appearance of any wounds upon them, 
 but they never stirred a limb ; and their bodies, after lying a 
 little beside the gun at which they had been working, were 
 dragged amid-ships. Several of the men were now severely 
 wounded. The main-deck, by this time, was filled with a dense 
 smoke, through which the powder-boys were flitting about like 
 imps, to supply the guns. One of them was struck by a round 
 shot on the head, and his brains were scattered about the deck. 
 Many shots passed through both sides of our ship, while we 
 fired away as hard as we could. The water bubbled and foam- 
 ed about us, in consequence of the showers of grape which 
 slashed it. 
 
 The odds against us were fearful ; and I can safely say, that 
 I, and every man on board had made his mind up for the worst ; 
 yet all were cool and active. They would frequently wait until 
 the thick smoke had cleared away between the ships, before 
 they fired, being reluctant to waste a single shot, each of which 
 took effect in the hulls of our opponents, and did terrible exe- 
 cution, amid the hearty cheers of the men, who exulted at the 
 effect of their superior fire. They frequently drank water 
 during the action, and the constant cry of the wounded was, 
 " Water, water." 
 
 As to my own sensations, I felt actuated by a species of blood- 
 thirsty enthusiasm, stimulated, I suppose, by the tremendous 
 odds against us. The loading of the guns ; the rapid firing, 
 and loud cheering ; the thumping recoil of the guns ; the whiz- 
 zing of the shot ; the crash as it strikes the ship, with a sound 
 similar to the smashing a door with a crow-bar ; the flying 
 splinters ; the men struck down and rolling on the deck, either 
 killed, maimed, or upset by the wind of a shot ; and the cap 
 tain, from the quarter-deck, shouting down the waist, " Go il 
 
340 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 my lads! for the honor of Old England!" may serve to con- 
 vey a rough idea of the scene on board our ship on the mam- 
 deck. The effect of the captain's voice on the men was to pro- 
 duce a momentary quicker fire, and several loud cheers from 
 the whole crew. 
 
 We were near enough to distinguish the Turkish and Egyp- 
 tian sailors in the enemy's ships. They seemed to be a motley 
 group. Most of them wore turbans of white, with a red cap 
 below, small brown jackets, and very wide trowsers ; their legs 
 were bare. They were active, brawny fellows, of a dark brown 
 complexion, and' they crowded the Turkish ships, which ac- 
 counts for the very great slaughter we occasioned among them. 
 Many dead bodies were tumbled through their port-holes into 
 the sea. 
 
 . Captain Hugon, commanding the French frigate L'Armide, 
 about three o'clock, seeing the unequal, but unflinching combat 
 we were maintaining, wormed his ship coolly and deliberately 
 through the Turkish inner line, in such a gallant masterly 
 style, as never for one moment to obstruct the fire of our ship 
 upon our opponents. He then anchored on our starboard quar- 
 ter, and fired a broadside into one of the Turkish frigates, thus 
 relieving us of one of our foes, which, in about ten minutes, 
 struck to the gallant Frenchman ; who, on taking possession, 
 in the most handsome manner, hoisted our flag along with his 
 own, to show that he had but completed the work we had be- 
 gun. The skill, gallantry, and courtesy of the French captain, 
 were the subject of much talk amongst us, and we were loud 
 in his praise. We had still two of the frigates and the corvette 
 to contend with, whilst the Armide was engaged, when a Rus- 
 sian line-of-battle ship came up, and attracted the attention of 
 another Egyptian frigate, and thus drew off her fire from us. 
 Our men had now a breathing time, and they poured in broad- 
 side upon broadside into the Egyptian frigate, which had been 
 our first assailant. The rapidity and intensity of our concen- 
 trated fire soon told upon the vessel. Her guns were irregu- 
 larly served, and many shots struck our rigging. Our round- 
 shot, which were pointed to sink her, passed through her sides, 
 and frequently tore up her decks in rebounding. In a short 
 time she was compelled to haul down her colors, and ceased 
 firing. We learned afterwards, that her decks were covered 
 with nearly one hundred and fifty dead and wounded men, and 
 the deck itself ripped up from the effects of our balls. In the 
 interim, the corvette, which had annoyed us exceedingly during 
 the action, came in for her share of our notice, and we mar* 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 341 
 
 aged to repay her in some style for the favors she had bestow- 
 ed on us in the heat of the business. Orders were then issued 
 for the men to cease firing for a few minutes, until the Rose 
 had passed between our ship and the corvette, and had station- 
 ed herself in such a position as to annoy the latter in conjunc- 
 tion with us. Our firing was then renewed with redoubled 
 fury. The men, during the pause, had leisure to quench their 
 thirst from the tank which stood on the deck, and they appear- 
 ed greatly refreshed — I may say, almost exhilarated, and to 
 their work they merrily went again. 
 
 The double-banked Egyptian frigate, which had struck her 
 colors to us, to our astonishment began, after having been si- 
 lenced for some time, to open a smart fire on our ships, though 
 she had no colors flying. The men were exceedingly exaspera- 
 ted at such treacherous conduct, and they poured into her two 
 severe broadsides, which effectually silenced her, and at the 
 moment we saw that a blue ensign was run up her mast, on 
 which we ceased cannonading her, and she never fired another 
 gun during the remainder of the action. It was a Greek pilot, 
 pressed on board the Egyptian, who ran up the English en- 
 sign, to prevent our ship from firing again. He declared that 
 our shot came into the frigate as thick and rapidly as a hail- 
 storm, and so terrified the crew, that they all ran below. From 
 the combined effects of our firing, and that of the Russian 
 ship, the other Egyptian frigate hauled down her colors. The 
 corvette, which was roughly handled by the Rose, was driven 
 on shore, and there destroyed. 
 
 Before this, however, a Turkish fireship approached us, 
 having seemingly no one on board. We fired into her, and in 
 a few minutes she loudly exploded astern, without doing us any 
 damage. The concussion was tremendous, shaking the ship 
 through every beam. Another fireship came close to the Phi- 
 lomel which soon sunk her, and in the very act of going down 
 she exploded. 
 
 A large ship near the Asia was now seen to be on fire ; the 
 blaze flamed up as high as the topmast, and soon became one. 
 vast sheet of fire ; in that state she continued for a short time. 
 The crew could be easily discerned gliding about across the 
 light; and, after a horrible suspense, she blew up, with an ex 
 plosion far louder and more stunning than the ships which had 
 done so in our vicinity. The smoke and lurid flame ascended 
 to a vast height in the air ; beams, masts, and pieces of the hull, 
 along with human figures in various distorted postures, were 
 clearly distinguishable in the air. A pause ensued as the burn- 
 
 29* 
 
342 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 ing mass soared to its utmost height, ere the whole fell down 
 again into the sea. The shell of a large turtle quite hot light- 
 ed on our deck from the exploded ship. 
 
 It was now almost dark, and the action had ceased to be ge 
 neral throughout the lines; but blaze rose upon blaze, and ex 
 plosion thundered upon explosion, in various parts of the bay 
 A pretty sharp cannonading had been kept up between the guns 
 of the castle and the ships entering the bay, and that firing 
 still continued. The smaller Turkish vessels, forming the se- 
 cond line, were now nearly silenced, and several exhibited 
 signs of being on fire, from the thick light-colored smoke that 
 rose from their decks. 
 
 The action had nearly terminated by six o'clock, after a du- 
 ration of four hours. Daylight had disappeared unperceived, 
 owing to the dense smoke of the cannonading, which, from 
 the cessation of the firing, now began to clear away, and show- 
 ed us a clouded sky. The bay was illuminated in various 
 quarters by the numerous burning ships, which rendered the 
 sight one of the most sublime and magnificent that could be 
 imagined. 
 
 Previous to the termination of the action, one of our midship- 
 men, a promising youth of about fourteen, was struck by a can- 
 non-shot, which carried off both his legs, and his right-hand, with 
 which the poor fellow had been grasping his cutlas at that 
 moment. He lay in the gun-room, as nothing could be done 
 for him ; and I was informed by one of the men, that he re- 
 peatedly named his mother in a piteous tone, but soon after 
 rallied a little, and began to inquire eagerly how the action was 
 going on, and if any more Turkish ships had struck. He lin- 
 gered in greal agony for about twenty minutes. 
 
 During the latter part of the engagement the men seemed 
 as fresh and active as at its commencement. It was not till its 
 close that several discovered that they had been wounded, but 
 had not felt the smart until the excitement had ceased. One 
 seaman near me evinced considerable surprise at finding the 
 skin of his shoulder entirely taken off, and the red flesh all ex- 
 posed, and his shirt covered with blood. They all began con 
 gratulating each other on the successful termination of the af 
 fair, and then sat down, wiping their brows with their neck 
 cloths. They seemed now to entertain a much higher opinioD 
 of .the Turkish sailors than they had done ; frankly acknow 
 ledging that they fought gallantly, and had given them plenty 
 of work ere they got the oetter of them. As they exhibited 
 signs of great exhaustion and fatigue, a pint of grog was thee 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 343 
 
 handed to ;ach man at the guns, together with some biscuits 
 and other provisions, which the poor fellows devoured with 
 great relish and appetite. 
 
 Midships lay five or six dead bodies, some greatly mangled • 
 the decks were much covered with blood — the faces and hands 
 and arms of the sailors were black with powder. The heat 
 of the main-deck had been so intense, that, at the conclusion of 
 the action, I found myself without my jacket and neckcloth, 
 which I never recollected to have taken off; my face was quite 
 disfigured with spots of blood and gunpowder ; my hands black 
 and raw, and becoming stiff from assisting at various matters 
 during the action. 
 
 As soon as the men had been a little refreshed, they were 
 ordered to make wads for the guns, in case of any renewed at- 
 tack being made upon us, and no one was allowed to stir from 
 his quarters at the guns during the whole of the night. They 
 might be seen seated in groups preparing the wads, or employ- 
 ed in refitting the rigging, which was greatly injured. The 
 carpenter went about making such repairs as were needed, and 
 nailing sheets of lead over the shot-holes in the ship's hull, 
 some of which were betwixt wind and water. 
 
 Later in the evening, the bodies of the killed were sewed 
 up in their hammocks and committed to the deep. Several of 
 our best hands had been killed and wounded. Brief remarks 
 on the qualities of the slain v/ere made by the survivors, espe- 
 cially if the fallen had been popular characters, and favorite 
 messmates. Sentinels were stationed round the ship's deck, 
 with strict orders to keep a sharp look out, as we had reason 
 to apprehend a midnight attack from the Arabs. 
 
 The night passed heavily away after the previous excitement, 
 checkered by the continual blazing of the Turkish vessels, 
 which had drifted close to the shore, at the head of the bay, 
 and their loud explodings, which ceased to attract our attention 
 by their frequency. 
 
 In the morning, the bay presented a dismal sight for the 
 Turks, their proud flotilla had been scattered like chaff Many 
 ships had scarcely a mast standing, and their rigging was hang- 
 ing about in terrible disorder. Large pieces of wreck were 
 floating in the distance, and the boats of the fleet were passing 
 to and fro, picking up the Turks, who were clinging to the 
 masts and spars, and then landing them, as no prisoners were 
 made. 
 
 The decks of our ship, which had been permitted to remain 
 ill night in the same bloody slate, now underwent a thorough 
 
344 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 swabbing, and began to assume their former clean appearance. 
 It was a luxury now to have an opportunity of scrubbing one's- 
 self from the marks of the powder, and to change one's dress. 
 
 As soon as the ship had been put in order, we weighed an- 
 chor, and made for the admiral's station. The Asia exhibited 
 numerous marks of the severity of the contest she had been en- 
 gaged in ; her mizen mast was gone ; the other ships had suf- 
 fered in proportion. 
 
 Towards one o'clock a large ship inshore exploded with 
 considerable noise. In the afternoon, the large Egyptian fri- 
 gate, which had struck to us, was seen to go down. We were 
 actively employed in putting our vessel to rights ; and, upon the 
 Tuesday following, we passed the batteries of the castle, the 
 men standing ready at their guns, in case of an attack. We sail- 
 ed through the mouth unmolested by the numerous groups 
 gazing at us from the castle walls. In eight days Ave arrived 
 at Malta, where we landed our wounded, and the men obtained 
 leave to go ashore. The inhabitants received us with great 
 joy, balls and other festivities followed in constant succession, 
 while the greatest harmony and unanimity existed between 
 us and our allies, who seemed to vie with one another in po- 
 liteness. 
 
 This long log has at last come to a conclusion ; it has grown 
 unexpectedly large in the narrator's hands, and contains many 
 details, which, though novel to the landsman, may elicit a smile 
 from naval men. But his instructions have been obeyed as far 
 as possible, and he now drops his anchor. 
 
 THE CAVE OF HAR HASSAN. 
 
 [From the Monthly Magazine.] 
 
 On the south-eastern coast of the island of Malta, there is a re- 
 markable cave, rendered illustrious by the many traditions res- 
 pecting its ancient inhabitant. It has always gone by the name of 
 Hassan's Cave, from the person with whom it has generally been 
 associated in local story. But the ingenuity and credulity of the 
 people have assigned to him a greater share of renown than falls 
 to the lot of ordinary heroes, and he has adorned the tale of bel- 
 dame mothers with a fertility of interest which would incline 
 one almost to doubt his identity. He is represented as a hermit, 
 a pirate, a petty king, a chivalrous knight, a gigantic goblin. 
 He seems to have been mighty on land and water, over air and 
 fire. But these accomplishments are not to be understood as 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 346 
 
 being attributed to him en masse by any one of his glorifiers; 
 they are so collected only upon comparison of the different ver- 
 sions ; and if, when set together, they appear not overabundant 
 for one man's share, why let us not smile at the feats of King 
 Arthur or Jack the Giant Killer. 
 
 One of the most favorite records is that which enumerates hi; 
 worthy deeds during a siege of the island by the Moslemites. 
 He was himself a native of Barbary, and a votary of the creect 
 professed by the besiegers. But for half a century he had found 
 a sanctuary in the hollow rock, and he would not desert the kind 
 mother who had fostered him. Accordingly, he garrisoned his 
 cavern ; and, from his commanding post, sorely distressed the 
 enemy's fleet, which was necessarily exposed to his battery. 
 The water nymphs alone can say in what numbers the turbaned 
 sinners fell into their embraces, by the stratagems and daring ol 
 their great man. 
 
 But a more credible, because a more modest story, simply 
 describes him as a recluse, who, disappointed in his own country, 
 fled with an only daughter to this island. There he resided in 
 honor amongst men, and devoted to the nurture of his beloved 
 child, the sole prop of his infirm spirit. She was wooed by a 
 prince of the country, and the smiles of the fair girl, and the 
 ready sanction of her father, promised a happy consummation. 
 But whilst affianced, she was seized with illness of a deadly 
 character; her short race was run before men had time to take 
 note of it, and the heart-broken Hassan fled from the haunts of 
 men to this solitary place, where he lingered for some years in 
 the loneliness of a grave. 
 
 These and other less probable traditions excited my curiosity 
 to visit the habitation of so memorable a man. We left Valetta 
 on donkeys, and sallied forth in the direction of the particular 
 point of coast. We had an arduous expedition ; for the natives. 
 if aware of the existence, knew nothing as to the locality of ths 
 cave. Some volunteered to conduct us without error ; but, after 
 knocking down a dozen stone walls to facilitate our progress, and 
 much scampering to and fro on the verge of a high precipi- 
 tous rock, based by the sea, we found that in truth the place was 
 unknown, save by conjecture. The casals, or villages, that lie 
 within this district of the island, are not very many, contiguous, 
 or thickly inhabited; the roads of communication, themselves 
 Unfrequented, reach within no practicable distance of the shore, 
 and the incurious character of the peasants, beyond all other 
 obstacles, concealed even from the neighborhood that knowledge 
 of which we then stood in need. We gazed down ihe rou^h 
 
346 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 side of the rocky eminence in every direction, vainly seeking the 
 aperture, which, as we were told, at a middle height between our 
 own level and that of the sea, led to the hermitage of Hassan. 
 The sea was far below us, and stretching our view to the verge 
 of its distant horizon, we sighed as though we could evoke the 
 spirit of the recluse from the land of his forefathers. But the 
 sun was fast sinking to his bed, and the shadows from the insu- 
 lated rock of Filfla already extended to the distant point of shore, 
 above which we were standing. In despair, the donkeys' heads 
 were turned homeward ; the vexation of our party broke out in 
 low English curses, which our Maltese conducteur vainly en- 
 deavored to interpret ; and, retracing our steps, we clambered 
 diligently over the whole series of broken walls, which were no 
 longer a " neighbor's land-mark." 
 
 " You might have gone by a nearer route, without doing all 
 this mischief," cried some one close to us ; and looking on the 
 other side of a clump of stones that stood in the angle of the 
 field, we saw a stout old man, leaning on a spade, and brushing 
 away the heavy moisture which his then interrupted labor had 
 collected on his brow. He had a benign expression of face, 
 and in the tone of his reproof there was nothing of that morose- 
 ness which might have been expected from an owner of the de- 
 molished fences. Satisfied with this mild correction, he was re- 
 suming his work, when one of us ventured to ask, whether he 
 had guessed our purpose in crossing his fields, that he could thus 
 convict us of having taken a circuitous rout 1 "I conceive you 
 werejooking for the cave of Har Hassan?" 
 
 " Yes, we went in search of it, but," — 
 
 " You failed ? — Of course you did ; what do these simple fel- 
 lows know of its situation ? — and if they did, would they ven- 
 ture to be your pilot, think you, when not one of them would 
 trust himself there for his life ? — Do you still wish to see it ?" 
 
 To this we replied, that we had hunted for it in every direc- 
 tion, and despaired of finding it ; that it must be at some distance, 
 and it was now too late to linger so far from the city, &c. He 
 answered us with an assurance, that we were then not a hun- 
 dred yards from the entrance, and that he had observed us, 
 shortly before, standing directly over its mouth. If we had any 
 wish, he would be happy to conduct us thither. This proposa 
 was cheerfully assented to ; and the courteous old man, laying 
 aside his spade, and resuming an ancient coat, whose color and 
 shape indicated that it belonged to one of the clerical order, in- 
 stantly set forward, and in a few minutes had advanced to the 
 orink of the eminence, where we ourselves had been so recently 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 347 
 
 Here he iaised a thin slab of stone, about, two feet square, and 
 discovered the commencement of a rude stair-case, cut in the side 
 of the rock, so narrow as scarcely to suffice for safe footing, and 
 almost inclosed from above by the projection of rude masses of 
 stone. This descent was almost indistinguishable from any point 
 on the terra-firma where we had been standing, and fatally ha- 
 zardous to any whose foot or hand could be shaken by tne diffi- 
 culties of its passage. The rocks below us, sometimes fell in a 
 scarped, direct line to the surface of the water, sometimes jutted 
 out in fantastic forms, but never swelling so gradually and ob- 
 liquely as to allow any deviation from the path prescribed by the 
 limits of the rude stair-case. Occasionally the old priest gave 
 his hand, for better security, to his immediate follower, when the 
 projecting rocks above and around us were not sufficiently ragged 
 to be clasped as we advanced. And many were the distrustful 
 doubts, as the ground became slippery from dew or sea spray, 
 and the slight step wound about a turn in the rock, where a sin- 
 gle unsteady look or movement might have been attended by 
 fatal consequences. At last we were at the mouth of the cave. 
 Its position had been well described, as being mid-way between 
 the base and the summit of the rock. The sea roared beneath 
 is, perhaps imprisoned in some natural excavations like this one, 
 whose floor might be the sealing of another, still more awful and 
 inaccessible. From the entrance, a vast number of galleries, 
 stretched away by different ramifications into the bosom of the 
 earth. These were soon without a ray of light ; and, for this rea- 
 son, the central and principal one, which we attempted to pene- 
 trate, became almost instantly impervious. Our guide took us 
 along a side corridor, through which we groped our way in 
 damp and darkness, till at a distance a fresh gleam of light assisted 
 our progress to its further end. There we found a smaller mouth, 
 fronting the sea on one side, and terminating on the other in a 
 low arch, where are still to be seen the indications of a door 
 with its hinges and fastenings. And this was the sanctuary of 
 the recluse. Within were discernible the rude couch of stone, 
 the lamp and its receptacle, with many other of those devices, 
 which, though multiplied by wonder-workers till they are worthily 
 deemed fabulous, existed certainly before us, as the ancient substi- 
 tutes for more costly comforts, accommodated to the wants of the 
 hermit. From the opening of the archway, a vast and glorious 
 view of the Mediterranean presents itself, and no port could 
 have been better chosen as the scene of romantic and super- 
 human adventures. As we loitered on this interesting ground, a 
 thousand visions naturally occurred to us, as the probable inci 
 
348 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 dents in the life of one who could so utterly cast off the world, 
 and betake feimself to a nook in the desolate rock, companioned 
 only by the sea-gull. The very access to his abode was likely 
 to have remained for ever unknown. The old priest himself 
 had resided in the neighborhood from the time of his child- 
 hood, and the secret which he had from his father, was now 
 ishared by few, if any. But the marvelous tales which threw 
 »a luster on the fabulous character of him whose heroism and 
 monument were now before us, seem to have no historical found- 
 ation. The true account is probably that which I have already 
 quoted. Har Hassan is recorded as being the tenant of this 
 cave, by the laborious historian Abela f and it is justly inferred, 
 that he was rather a man of sorrow than of blood, from a very 
 singular tablet that was discovered not many years ago, and 
 translated from the Coptic by a Frenchman, at the command of 
 Bonaparte. I should not have deemed this little history of our 
 pilgrimage worth relating, had it not appeared a proper preface 
 to this remarkable document. For its authenticity I have other 
 warrant than that of the priest who first indulged me with an 
 inspection of it. For, upon comparison with a different version, 
 done in English by an officer of rank on the island, I iind as 
 near a concordance as the two languages will admit. Having 
 thus vouched for its genuineness, I cannot think any comment 
 necessary to advance its character for singularity and beauty. It 
 ran as follows : — 
 
 " In the name of the compassionate and merciful God ! — May 
 God be propitious to the prophet Mahomet ! 
 
 " Peace and blessing attend his family ! 
 
 " God is supreme and eternal. 
 
 " All created beings pass away, and disappear, but you have 
 the consolation of the prophet of God. 
 
 " Maimonna, daughter of Hassan, son of AH El Hod, the son 
 of Moaiz of Susa, whom God enlighten and bless, lies in this 
 .sepulcher, the prey of death. She ceased to live on Thursday, 
 the 16th of the great month Sehaban, in the year of the Hegira 
 569. She professed that there was no God, but God alone, with- 
 out equal !" 
 
 " Oh ! thou, who regardest this tomb ! behold, I am betrothed 
 to it as a bride ! My eyelids are sealed with ashes ! my attrac- 
 tions have passed away ! 
 
 " Nevertheless, my mournful state of probation is transitory. 
 In the hour of resurrection, when the Creator shall restore me 
 
 * Vide his learned work, " Malta Illustrata." 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 349 
 
 to life, I shall once more joyfully behold my relatives, and exult 
 ingly reap the reward of my sorrows. 
 
 " The beautiful nature of your docile and uniformly serene 
 mind, my Maimorma, shone in conflicting efforts — now in skill- 
 fully striving to repel death, and now in seeking to draw advan- 
 tage from it. 
 
 " It is death itself that offers a transit to the state of celestial 
 reward, where the abodes of the blessed are enjoyed in serenity 
 amongst the shades of most delightful gardens, and the murmurs 
 of the softest rivulets. For this reason we venerate the creed 
 of our fathers. But the faithless offenders, sprinkled with the 
 waters of oblivion — they. who have left no good works behind 
 them — shall rise in condemnation, to suffer the most agonizing 
 torments and everlasting punishments." Ovah. 
 
 CASPAR HAUSER, THE NUREMBERG BOY. 
 
 [From the Edinburgh Pliilosophical Journal.] 
 
 About twenty-five years ago, public curiosity and the solicitude 
 of the scientific world, were powerfully excited by the discovery 
 of the wild man of Aveyron, who was surprised in the woods, 
 leaping from tree to tree, living, in a naked state, the life of a 
 baboon rather than that of a man, emitting no other sounds than 
 imitations of the cries of animals which he had heard, or those 
 which had made their escape from his breast without the emotions 
 of pleasure or suffering. A phenomenon of nearly a similar nature 
 has for the last fifteen months engaged the attention of the learn- 
 ed in Germany. But in this case there do not exist the entire 
 liberty, and the wild and erratic life, which degraded the intellect 
 of the unfortunate being just mentioned. There has on the con- 
 trary, been a state of absolute constraint and captivity. Hither- 
 to nothing had transpired in France respecting this singular 
 phenomenon, and we should probably have still remained igno- 
 rant of it, had it not been for the attempt at assassination made a 
 month ago upon this unfortunate creature, now restored to social 
 life ; and, as would appear, pursued by the same villain who, 
 for twelve years, had kept him buried in a dungeon. A person 
 of high rank, and distinguished by the superiority of his mind, 
 has addressed to us the following letter, which reveals, in some 
 measure, the entire history of this unfortunate being. Our cor- 
 respondent has seen and conversed with this mysterious young 
 man. We have thought it right to publish his letter in the same 
 25 30 
 
350 HISTORICAl CABINET. 
 
 spirit which dictated it, that is to say, less as the recital of 
 an extraordinary and touching adventure, than as a subject of 
 moral and psychological study. At the moment when we were 
 sending this letter to press, we received the Nouvelle Revue Ger- 
 manique, which is printed in Strasburg, and in which the same 
 facts are translated, from the Hesperws, one of the best of the 
 German journals. But we have in addition, the assurance of 
 authenticity and the observations made on the same subject, by 
 a person who, by profound study, has been familiarized with 
 all the great questions of philosophy.* 
 
 " To the Editor of Le Globe. 
 
 "Paris, November 15, 1829. 
 
 " Sir — Within a few days the French journals speak, for the 
 first time, of the history of a young man found at Nuremberg, 
 whose name is Caspar Hauser. They speak of him in conse- 
 quence of the assassination attempted upon his person in the 
 course of last month, quoting the Austrian Observer, which has 
 itself derived its information from German journals printed in 
 countries nearer the place of the atrocity than Vienna. The 
 story appears to them incredible, and with good reason, for what 
 is true is not always probable. I have seen the young man in 
 question, and am able to furnish authentic information respecting 
 him. I am convinced you will judge it worthy of being made 
 public. 
 
 " In the month of May, 1828, there was observed at the en- 
 trance of one of the gates of the city of Nuremberg, a young 
 man who kept himself in a motionless attitude. He spoke not, 
 but wept, and held in his hand a letter addressed to an officer of 
 the regiment of light horse, in garrison in the town. The let- 
 ter announced that from the age of four to that of sixteen years, 
 the bearer had remained shut up in a dungeon, that he had been 
 baptized, that his name was Caspar Hauser, that he was destined 
 to enter the regiment of light horse, and that it was for this 
 reason that the officer was addressed. 
 
 " On being questioned he remained silent, and when further 
 interrogated he wept. The word which he most frequently 
 pronounced was haam, (the provincial pronunciation of heim, 
 home,) to express the desire of returning to his dungeon. 
 
 " When it appeared evident from the state in which the young 
 man was, that the statement contained in the letter was true, he 
 was confided to the charge of an enlightened professor of the 
 
 * This letter is probably the production of the celebrated Cousin. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 851 
 
 most respectable character, and, by a decree of the magistrates, 
 was declared an adopted child of the city of Nuremberg. 
 
 " Previous to my return to France, I had determined to visit 
 that city, the only large town in Germany which I had not seen. 
 This was about the end of last September. I was furnished 
 with a letter to one of the magistrates, who, from the nature of 
 his functions, had the charge of superintending the education of 
 Caspar Hauser. It was this person who brought him to me ; 
 and by a privilege which I should not have ventured to claim, 
 the last moments of a residence devoted to the examination of 
 the curiosities of this great monument of the middle age, afford- 
 ed me an opportunity of seeing a very rare, if not unique, sub- 
 ject for the study of human nature. We beheld a young man, 
 below the middle stature, thick, and with broad shoulders. His 
 physiognomy was mild and frank. Without being disagree- 
 able, it was no way remarkable. His eyes announced weakness 
 of sight, but his look, especially when a feeling of internal satis- 
 faction or gratitude made him raise it towards the skies, had 
 a heavenly expression. He came up to us without embarrass- 
 ment, and even with the confidence of candor. His carriage 
 was modest. He was urged to speak, to give us an account of 
 his emotions, of his observations upon himself, and of the happi- 
 ness of his condition. 
 
 " We had no time to lose, for our horses were already harness- 
 ed. While I was reading an account composed by himself, in 
 which he had begun to retrace his recollection, he related to my 
 traveling companion whatever had not yet been recorded in it, 
 or replied to his questions. I shall, therefore, first present the 
 details of the narrative, and then mention what was repeated to 
 me of a conversation of which I heard only a part. 
 
 " His manner of speaking and of pronouncing German was 
 that of a foreigner, who has exercised himself for some years 
 in it. The motion of the muscles of the face indicated an ef- 
 fort, and was nearly such as is observed in deaf and dumb per- 
 sons who have learned to speak. The style of the written nar- 
 rative resembled that of a scholar of ten or eleven years, and 
 consisted of short and simple phrases, without errors in orthog- 
 raphy or grammar. The following is a brief account of it: — 
 
 " His recollections disclose to him a dark dungeon, about five 
 feet long, four broad, and very low ; a loaf of bread, a pitcher 
 of water, a hole for his wants, straw for a bed, a covering, two 
 wooden horses, a dog of the same material, and some ribins, 
 with which he amused himself in decorating them He had no 
 recollection of hunger, but he well remembered being thirsty 
 
352 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 When Ae was thirsty he slept, and on awakening, the pitcher 
 was found full. When he was awake he dressed his horses with 
 the ribins, and when his thirst returned he slept. The man 
 who took care of hitn always approached him from behind, so 
 that he never saw his figure. He remained almost constantly 
 seated. He recollects no feeling of uneasiness. He is igno- 
 rant how long this kind of life lasted ; and when the man began 
 to reveal himself and to speak to him, the sound of his voice be- 
 came impressed upon his ear. His words are indelibly en 
 graved upon his memory, and he has even retained his dialect. 
 These words ran exclusively on fine horses, and latterly on his 
 father, who had some, and would give them to him. One day, 
 (I make use of this word although it is improper, for to him 
 there were neither day, nor time, nor space,) the man placed 
 upon his legs a stool, with paper, and led his hand, in order to 
 make him trace some characters upon it. When the impulse 
 given by the man's hand ceased, his also stopped. The man en- 
 deavored to make him understand that he was to go on. The 
 motion being without doubt inopportune, the man gave him a blow 
 on the arm. This is the only feeling of pain which he remem- 
 bers. But the stool greatly embarrassed him, for he had no idea of 
 how he should put it aside, and was utterly unable to extricate 
 himself from this prison within a prison. One day at length 
 the man clothed him, (it would appear that he wore only a shirt, 
 his feet being bare,) and taking him out of the dungeon, put 
 shoes upon him. He carried him at first, and then tried to make 
 him learn to walk, directing the young man's feet with his own. 
 Sometimes carried and sometimes pushed forwards, he at length 
 made a few steps. But, after accomplishing ten or twelve, he 
 suffered horribly, and fell a crying. The man then laid him on 
 his face on the ground, and he slept. He is ignorant how long 
 these alternations were renewed ; but the ideas which he has 
 since acquired have enabled him to discover, in the sound of 
 his conductor's voice, an expression of trouble and anguish. 
 The light of the day caused him still greater sufferings. He 
 retains no idea of his conductor's physiognomy, nor does he 
 even know if he observed it ; but the sound of his voice, he tells 
 us, he could distinguish among a thousand. 
 
 " Here ends the narrative, and we now come to the conversatior 
 During the first days which he passed among men, he was in 
 a state of continual suffering. He could bear no other food than 
 bread. He was made to take chocolate : he felt it, he told us, to 
 his fingers' ends. The light, the motion, the noise around him, 
 fand curious persons were not wanting to produce the latter,) 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 353 
 
 and the variety of objects which forced themselves upon his 
 observation, caused an indescribable pain, a physical distemper; 
 but this distemper must have existed in the chaos of his ideas. 
 It was music that afforded him the first agreeable sensation: it 
 was through its influence that he experienced a dispersion of 
 this chaos. From this period he was enabled to perceive a 
 commencement of order in the impressions by which he was 
 assailed. His memory became prodigious : he quickly learned 
 to name and classify objects, to distinguish faces, and to attach 
 to each the proper name which he heard pronounced. He 
 has an ear for music, and an aptitude for drawing. At first he 
 was fond of amusing himself with wooden horses, of which 
 a present had been made to him, when he was heard continu- 
 ally to repeat the word horses, beautiful horses, (ress, schone 
 ress.) He instantly gave up, when his master made him under- 
 stand that this was not proper, and that it was not beautiful. 
 His taste for horses has since been replaced by a taste for study. 
 He has begun the study of the Latin language, and by a natu- 
 ral spirit of imitation, his master being a literary man, he is 
 desirous of following the same career. 
 
 " So extraordinary a phenomenon could not fail to inspire, 
 independently of general curiosity, an interest of a higher 
 order, whether in observing minds or in feeling hearts, and the 
 women especially have expressed their feelings towards him 
 in little presents, and letters of the most tender kind. But the 
 multitude of idle visits they made to him, and especially their 
 expressions of tender feeling, were productive of danger to him, 
 and it became necessary to withdraw him from so many causes 
 of distraction, and to lead him into retirement. Accordingly, he 
 now lives retired, in the bosom of a respectable family. Pure 
 morals, an observing mind, and a psychological order, preside 
 over his education and instruction, in proof of which, he has 
 made immense progress in the space of the last sixteen months. 
 
 " Here, then, by the inexplicable eccentricity of a destiny 
 \vithout example, we have presented, and perhaps solved a 
 problem, which, from the Egyptian king mentioned by Hero 
 dotus, down to the writers of novels, to the Emilius of Rous- 
 seau, and the statue of Condillac, has exercised the imagina- 
 tions of men, and the meditations of philosophers. It is evident 
 that in the profound darkness, the absolute vacuity in which 
 Caspar Hauser was for twelve years immersed, all the impres 
 sions of the first four years of his life were effaced. Never 
 was there a tabula rasa like that which his mind presented at 
 the age of sixteen. You see what it has been capable of re« 
 
 30* 
 
354 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 ceiving. But .he metaphor is false, for you see how it has 
 reacted. 
 
 " In proportion as the sphere of his ideas enlarged, he has 
 made continual efforts to pierce the shades of his previous ex- 
 istence. They have been useless, at least as yet. ' I inces- 
 santly try,' said he to us, ' to seize the image of the man ; but 
 I am then affected with dreadful headaches, and feel motions in 
 my brain which frighten me.' I have told you that his figure, 
 his look, and his port, bore the expression of candor, careless- 
 ness and contentment. I asked him if he had, either in his 
 dungeon, or after coming out of it, experienced feelings of an- 
 ger. ' How could I,' said he, ' when there has never been in 
 me, (and he pointed to his heart,) what men call anger.' And 
 this being, from whom, since the commencement of his moral 
 existence, had emanated all the gentle and benevolent affections, 
 has all these illusions dissipated by the violence of an assassin. 
 Happy, perhaps, had it been for him had he fallen under it, or 
 should he yet fall ! 
 
 " This assassin, I only know, as yourself and as the public 
 know, through the medium of the newspapers. The young 
 man, they say, thought he recognized in him the voice of his 
 conductor. It is probable that the conductor is the assassin ; 
 but it is also possible that the young man may be deceived ; for 
 in that so well remembered voice, were concentrated all his 
 ideas of evil. Be this as it may, it is as a psychological phe- 
 nomenon that I have presented his history, and not as an ad- 
 venture, respecting which every one may form his own conjec- 
 tures. All that I can say is, that the functionary who present- 
 ed him to us, and who, by the duties of his office, was charged 
 with directing the inquiries, has informed me that for a moment 
 they imagined they had found traces of a discovery ; but these 
 traces had ended in nothing else than the rendering it probable 
 that -the place of his imprisonment is to be found in a district 
 at the distance of about ten leagues from the city of Nurem 
 berg." Le Globe, Nov. 21s*, 1829. 
 
 
 HISTORY CF POLAND. 
 
 The first mention of the Poles in modern history is in the 
 year 550, when they formed a government, under Leek, bro- 
 ther of Cracus, or Creek, first duke of Bohemia, who collect- 
 ed the tribes, aad founded a castle, or center of a city. In this 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. $55 
 
 operation one of those omens occurred which paganism always 
 looked on as the voice of fate ; the workmen found an eagle's 
 nest in the wood which they were clearing away for the site 
 of the fortress. The nest was called in Sclavonic, gniazdo ; 
 from this the new city was called Gnesna ; and the eagle was 
 transferred to the banner of Poland. 
 
 The history of all the Gothic tribes is the same. Their 
 first state is that of scattered families ; their second, that of a 
 tribe under a military chieftain, elected by the suffrages of the 
 people. The chieftain becomes a tyrant, or transmits his power 
 to a feeble successor. The people then dethrone the race, break 
 up the tyranny, and come back to the old system of free election. 
 
 The descendants of Leek reigned a hundred years ; but the 
 dynasty was then subverted, and provincial military chieftains 
 were substituted for it. Twelve governors, entitled Palatines, 
 or Waiwodes (generals, from Woina war, Wodza. chief,) were 
 created. But their violences disgusted the people ; and one 
 of them, Cracus, whose conduct was an exception, was raised 
 to the throne by the elective voice of the nation. In some years 
 after his death his family were displaced by the Palatines, and 
 a civil war followed. The Hungarians took this opportunity 
 to ravage Poland, in A. D. 751; but a peasant, Przemyslas, 
 saved his country. Collecting together the broken forces of 
 Poland, he approached the Hungarian camp as if with the in- 
 tention of offering battle. With his barbarian courage, he 
 mingled civilized ingenuity ; he fixed branches of trees on a 
 conspicuous point of ground, which he intermixed with armed 
 men, so ranged as to give the appearance of a large force, in 
 order of battle. As soon as day broke, and the Hungarians 
 perceived, as they thought, their enemy defying them to the 
 encounter, they rushed on them with contemptuous rashness. 
 But the Polish post retired, exhibiting what, to the astonished 
 Hungarians, seemed a forest suddenly plucked up and moving 
 away. Yet the view of Polish flight overcame the terror at 
 the spectacle. The Hungarians rushed on, until they found 
 themselves inevitably entangled in a real forest. The Polish 
 leader now charged, totally routed the enemy, and left not a 
 man to tell the tale. But their camp still stood. Here too his 
 ingenuity was exerted. He dexterously clothed his men in the 
 dresses of the dead ; divided his troops into small bodies, and 
 sent* them towards various avenues of the camp, as if they were 
 Hungarians returned from the battle. The stratagem succeed- 
 ed, the Poles were suffered freely to enter the Hungarian camp ; 
 once within the rampart they drew their sabers — fell on their 
 
35b HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 unprepared enemy, and slaughtered the whole remaining mul- 
 titude, with the exception of a few fugitives, who escaped on 
 the first onset, and who served the Polish cause most effectually 
 by spreading the fame and terror of the national arms through 
 all the countries on the Baltic. The conqueror could now have 
 no competitor at home, and he was soon after chosen Duke of 
 Poland. 
 
 On his death the Palatines, those ceaseless disturbers, were 
 again in arms, each struggling for the crown. To prevent the 
 usual effusion of blood, an expedient was adopted w r hich dis- 
 plays the Tartar origin of the people. The crown was to be 
 the prize of a trial of speed on horseback. The trial was open 
 to the whole body of the youth. On the day appointed, a mul- 
 titude of gallant horesemen appeared ; but soon after starting, 
 many of their horses fell lame; to the astonishment of the spec- 
 tators, more were lamed every moment. Two alone at length 
 contended for the prize ; the whole multitude 01 riders had 
 fallen behind, with their chargers broken down ; " Witchcraft," 
 and "the wrath of the gods," were exclaimed in a thousand fu- 
 rious or terrified voices. But the tw r o candidates still held on 
 fiercely, and it w T as not till after a long display of the most des- 
 perate horsemanship that the conqueror, Lefzek, reached the 
 
 s oal - 
 
 When he galloped back to lay his claim before the chieftains, 
 and was on the point of being chosen, he was startled by a voice 
 proclaiming that he had won the prize by treachery. Lefzek 
 turned pale, but haughtily denying the charge, demanded to be 
 confronted with the accuser. The accuser was his rival in the 
 race, who demanded that the horses of both should be brought 
 into the circle. Lifting up the hoof of Lefzek' s horse, he show- 
 ed that it was completely covered with iron. " Thus," said he, 
 " did the traitor's horse escape the treachery." Then lifting up 
 the hoof of his own horse, and showing it also covered with 
 iron, " Thus," said he, " was I enabled to follow him." While 
 the assembled warriors were gazing on the discovery, the Pole 
 grasped a handful of the sand, and showing that it was full of 
 nails, exclaimed, " Thus were your horses lamed. The traitor 
 had sowed the sand with iron spikes, and covered his horse's 
 hoofs that he alone might escape them. I saw the artifice, and 
 shod mine that I might detect him. Now, choose the traitor 
 for your king." 
 
 Lefzek vainly attempted to defend himself. His crowd of 
 rivals, doubly indignant at their defeat and the injury to their 
 horses, rushed on him with drawn sabers, and he was cut to 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 857 
 
 pieces on the spot. Wild admiration succeeded wild justice ; 
 they raised his detector on their shoulders, and instantly pro- 
 claimed him king by the title of Lefzko the Second. 
 
 In the reign of his successor, Lefzko the Third, the casual 
 evils of an unsettled government were made perpetual by the 
 most fatal of all institutions. The king had a number of ille- 
 gitimate sons, for whom he provided by giving them Fiefs, held 
 of Popiel, his heir. Those Fiefs were originally but manor- 
 rights ; the people had freeholds in their lands, and voices in 
 the election to the throne; but debt, usurpation, and fraud, 
 rapidly converted them into tyrannies, and the people into slaves. 
 The institution of Fiefs, thus commencing in royal vice, ended 
 in national ruin. 
 
 A new revolution now raised the most celebrated dynasty of 
 Poland to the throne. The son of Popiel had died, execrated 
 by the nation for hereditary crimes. Poland was once more 
 the prey of the Palatines. The great holders of the Fiefs 
 crushed the people. All was misery, until all became indig- 
 nation. The people at length remembered the freedom of their 
 birthright, and, inspired with the warlike spirit of their Sclavo- 
 nic fathers, rose in arms, disavowed the dictation of the feudal 
 lords, and demanded the right of free election to the throne. 
 The great nobles were awed, and the electors assembled at the 
 city of Kruswic. But in their triumph they had been impro- 
 vident enough to meet, without considering how they were to 
 provide for the subsistence of so vast a multitude. They must 
 now have dispersed, or fought for their food, but for the wisdom 
 of one man, Piast, an opulent inhabitant of the city. Knowing 
 the rashness of popular haste, and the evils which it might pro- 
 duce, he had, with fortunate sagacity, collected large maga- 
 zines of provisions beforehand. On the first cry of famine, he 
 threw them open to his countrymen. In their gratitude for a 
 relief so unexpected, and their admiration of his foresight, the 
 multitude shouted out that "they had found the only king 
 worthy of Poland." The other candidates were forced to yield. 
 The great feudatories, more willing to see an inferior placed 
 above them than to see a rival made their sovereign, joined in 
 the popular acclamation. The citizen Piast was proclaimed 
 king. He justified the choice by singular intelligence, virtue, 
 and humanity; and when, in 861, he died, left his memory 
 adored by the people, and his throne to his son and to a dynasty 
 which was not extinguished for five hundred years. 
 
 In the reign of his descendant, Miecislaw, Poland was con- 
 verted to Christianity. The king had married a Christian 
 
358 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 princess, Dambrowcka, the daughter of Boleslas, Duke of Bohe- 
 mia ; the condition demanded by his queen was, that he should 
 renounce paganism. The condition may have been an easy 
 one to the monarch, whose sense and manliness, if they knew 
 but little of Christianity, must have long scorned the gross vices 
 and flagrant absurdities of the national superstition. He sub- 
 mitted to all the restrictions of the new faith with the zeal of a 
 determined convert ; dismissed the seven partners which pagan 
 license had given to the royal couch, sent an order through his 
 realm for the demolition of all the idols, and, to the wonder of 
 his people, submitting the royal person into the hands of a 
 Roman monk, was baptized. 
 
 The former religion of Poland was a modification of the 
 same worship of the elements, or the powers presumed to com- 
 mand the fates of man, which was to be found in every region 
 of the north ; and which, with additional and poetic elegance, 
 was the adopted religion of Greece and Rome. They had 
 their sovereign of the skies, the lord of the thunder, by the 
 name of Jassem. Liada was their ruler of war. To this Ju- 
 piter and Mars, they added a Venus, named, less harmoniously, 
 Dzidzielia. Two inseparable brothers, their Lei and Pollel, 
 had the history and attributes of the Greek Castor and Pollux. 
 Driewanna was scarcely more different from the Greek Diana 
 in attributes than in name. They had a goddess of the earth 
 and its produce, Marzanna, their Ceres : and their deity of ter- 
 rors, Niam, the Pluto, whose oracle at Gnesna was the awe and 
 inspiration of the north. They had one deity more which es- 
 caped Greek invention, unless it were represented by the " fatal 
 sisters three," Ziwic, the " mighty and venerable," the " dispo- 
 ser of the lives of men." 
 
 In 1370, by the death of Casimir, the crown of Poland final- 
 ly passed away from the Piast dynasty. They had already 
 worn it for a longer period than any dynasty of Europe, 500 
 years. Casimir was one of those singular mixtures of truth 
 and error, strong passions, and great uncultured powers, which 
 are found among the heroes of semi-barbarian life. The chief 
 part of his reign was passed in war, in which he was general- 
 ly successful, defeating the Teutonic knights, who invaded him 
 from Prussia, the Russians, and the wild tribes who were per- 
 petually making irruptions into the states of their more civil- 
 ized neighbors. Casimir was memorable for having been the 
 first to give the Jews those privileges which make Poland their 
 chief refuge to this day. After the loss of his first wife, Ann 
 of Lithuania, he had married the daughter of the Landgrave 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 359 
 
 of Hesse. But like humbler men, he had found the yoke ma- 
 trimonial too heavy for his philosophy. His queen was a 
 shrew, and in the license of the age he took the beautiful Es- 
 ther, a Jewess, to supply her place. The Jewess, who was a 
 woman of striking attainments as well as of distinguished per- 
 sonal attractions, obtained an unequalled ascendency over the 
 king ; he suffered her to educate his two daughters, by her, as 
 Jewesses, and gradually gave way to all her demands for pro- 
 tection and privilege to her unfortunate people. 
 
 But he had the higher merit of being the legislator of Po- 
 land, or rather the protector of those feelings by which nature 
 tells every human being that he is entitled to freedom. The 
 abuse and the reform are less a part of the history of Poland 
 than of human wrong and its obvious remedy. 
 
 For a long course of years the lords of the Fiefs had pro- 
 nounced the people born on their estates to be slaves, incapable 
 of following their own will, or removing from the fief without 
 the permission of their masters. Casimir, roused by the com- 
 plaints of his subjects, and justly indignant at the usurpation, 
 abolished those claims, and declared every farmer at liberty, if 
 injured by the proprietor of the soil, to sell his property and 
 go where he pleased. A formidable part of the abuse was the 
 right claimed by the proprietors of giving their tenants as 
 pledges to each other for their debts ; which had produced the 
 most cruel sufferings, for the pledge was a prisoner and an exile, 
 perhaps for life. Casimir indignantly broke up this tissue of 
 crime ; framed a code giving the people equality of right with 
 their lords, and while he made the oppressive nobles his ene- 
 mies, gained from the nation the patriotic and immortal title 
 of " King of the Farmers." 
 
 It had been the custom of the lords to seize the property of 
 a tenant who died without children. The king declared this 
 to be an abuse, and enacted that the property should go to the 
 nearest relative. A deputation from the peasantry, who had 
 come to lay their grievances before him, were asked — " Who 
 have assailed you? were they men ?" " They were our land- 
 lords," was the answer. " Then," said Casimir, "if you were 
 men too, had you no sticks nor stones ?" 
 
 As he was without sons, he appointed his nephew Lewis, 
 King of Hungary, his successor. The deputation of the no- 
 bles sent to convey this intelligence, exhibited that free spirit of 
 the north, which about a century before, on a day never to be 
 forgotten by Englishmen, the famous 19th of June, 1215, had 
 boldly extorted the great Charter from the fears of the bigot 
 
360 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 and tyrant John. Lewis was compelled, as the price of his 
 crown, to sign an instrument, exempting the Polish nation from 
 all additional taxes, and all pretenses for royal subsidies ; abol- 
 ishing the old and ruinous custom of living at free cost on the 
 people in his journeys ; and as an effectual barrier against king- 
 ly ambition, the vice of those days of ferocity and folly, pledg- 
 ing the king to reimburse out of his personal means all the 
 public losses produced by hostilities with his neighbors. The 
 Act was signed by Lewis for himself and his successors, and 
 was solemnly declared to be a fundamental law of the realm. 
 No Act had ever made nearer approaches to laying the foun- 
 dations of a rational liberty ; yet none was ever more calami- 
 tous. It wanted but a degree of property and civilization in 
 the lower orders capable of applying and preserving it. But 
 the nobility were still the only nation. They seized all the 
 benefits of the law, established an oligarchy, made the king a 
 puppet, the people doubly slaves, the crown totally elective, and 
 the nation poor and barbarous, without the virtues of poverty, 
 or the redeeming boldness of barbarism. 
 
 Lewis ascended the throne ; broke his promises ; was forced 
 to fly from the kingdom ; entered into a new conciliation, for 
 which he paid by new concessions, confirming the power of 
 the noble oligarchy; was again driven to Hungary, where he 
 attempted to take his revenge, by dismembering the kingdom ; 
 and after giving Silesia to the Marquis of Brandenburgh, the 
 fatal foundation of the subsequent claim of Prussia, gave some 
 of the Polish frontier provinces bordering on Hungary, to the 
 Empress Queen, the foundation of another subsequent claim. 
 This guilty transaction was the ground of one of those acts of 
 v. ild justice which are so conspicuous in the Polish history. 
 
 At the diet held in Buda, where the grant to the empress was 
 made, only fourteen Polish senators could be found to attend ; 
 and of those but one, the bishop of Wadislaw, had the manli- 
 ness to protest against the treason. He communicated the act 
 to Granowski, the Great General of the kingdom, who con- 
 voked an assembly of the states, to which the monarch was in- 
 vited. The thirteen senators had been seized in the mean time, 
 were instantly beheaded, and their bodies placed round the 
 throne, covered with the tapestry. 
 
 The monarch, unacquainted with their seizure, was led to his 
 seat in full solemnity. The Great General advanced, and in 
 the name of the states of Poland sternly charged him with the 
 whole catalogue of his offenses against the constitution ; de- 
 clared the compact of the diet of Buda null and void, and then, 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 361 
 
 flinging off the tapestry, pointed to the ghastly circle of moni- 
 tors there. " Behold," exclaimed he to the startled king, "the 
 fate of all who shall prefer slavery to freedom ! There lie the 
 traitors who gave up their country to serve the caprices of their 
 king !" 
 
 The lesson was impressive. Lewis resolved to abandon a 
 country in which right was so loud-tongued, and justice so 
 rapid. Naming his son-in-law Sigismond, of Brandenburg, 
 governor in his absence, as heir, he set out for Hungary once 
 more. But, dying on his way, the nobles annulled the choice, 
 and gave the throne to the Princess Hedwige, a daughter of 
 the late king, on condition of her marrying according to the 
 national will. 
 
 Her marriage commenced the second famous dynasty of Po- 
 land, the Jagellans. Jagellon, Duke of Lithuania, was still 
 unconverted to Christianity, but he had been distinguished for 
 the intrepidity and justice which form the grand virtues in the 
 eyes of early nations. The princess selected him, and he soon 
 distinguished himself among the princes of the north. With a 
 magnanimity which seems almost incredible in his age, he re- 
 fused the sovereignty of Bohemia, from which the people had 
 deposed their profligate king, Wenceslas, and as the unparalleled 
 achievement of northern war, broke the power of the Teutonic 
 knights upon the field; of their immense host of one hundred 
 and fifty thousand men, slaying fifty thousand, taking eleven 
 thousand, and leaving among the dead the grand master and 
 three hundred knights. 
 
 A striking and characteristic scene, worthy of the finest ef- 
 forts of the pencil, preluded the battle. Jagellon, to draw the 
 enemy off some strong ground, had feigned a retreat. The 
 knights looked on him as already defeated, and the grand 
 master, in the spirit of his Scythian ancestors, sent him as an 
 emblem of his fate, two bloody swords with a message. " Our 
 master," said the deputies, " is not afraid to furnish you with 
 arms to give you courage, for we are on the point of giving 
 battle. If the ground on which you are encamped is too nar- 
 row for you to fight upon, we shall retire and give you room. 
 The taunt only inflamed the indignation of the Polish nobles, 
 but Jagellon calmly took the swords, and with a smile thanked 
 the grand master for so early giving up his arms. " I receive 
 them," said the bold northern, " with rejoicing ; they are an 
 irresistible omen. This day we shall be conquerors ; our ene- 
 mies already surrender their sabers." Distantly rising, he 
 ordered the signal to be made for a general advance j the army 
 
 31 
 
362 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 rushed on with sudden enthusiasm ; the boasted discipline of 
 the knights was useless before this tide of fiery valor ; their 
 ranks were helplessly trampled down ; and their whole chi- 
 valry destroyed upon the ground. The taunt had been proudly 
 answered. 
 
 The affairs of Poland now became mingled, for the first time, 
 with the politics of western Europe. In 1571 Sigismond Au- 
 gustus died, the last of the race of Jagellon, an honored name, 
 which had screened the follies of his successors during the long 
 course of two hundred years. The vacancy of the throne was 
 contested by a crowd of princes. But the dexterity and muni- 
 ficence of the celebrated Catharine de Medicis carried the elec- 
 tion in favor of her second son, Henry Duke of Anjou, brother 
 of Charles the Ninth. The diet which established this prince's 
 claim, was still more memorable for the formation of the " Pacta 
 Conventa," or great written convention of the kings of Poland, 
 by which they bound themselves to the commonwealth. The 
 previous bond had been a tacit, or verbal, agreement, to observe 
 the laws and customs. But experience had produced public 
 caution ; and by the final clause of the " Pacta Conventa," tho 
 king elect now declared, that " if he should violate any of his 
 engagements to the nation, the oath of allegiance was thence- 
 forth to be void." The crown had, until this period, been he- 
 reditary, liable, however, to the national rejection. From the 
 era of the Pacta Conventa it became wholly elective ; an ex- 
 ample single among European governments, and giving Avarn- 
 ing of its error by the most unbroken succession of calamities 
 in the history of modern nations. 
 
 Poland was still to have a slight respite. On the vacancy 
 after the death of Wadislas in 1648, Casimir, the last descend- 
 ant of the Jagellon blood, was found in a cloister ; where he 
 had entered the order of Jesuits. Popular affection placed him 
 on the throne. He governed wisely a state now distracted 
 with civil faction and religious dispute. At length grown 
 weary of the scepter, he resigned it for the crosier of the Abbot 
 of St. Germain de Pres, in France ; and enjoyed in this opu- 
 lent and calm retreat a quiet for which he had been fitted by 
 nature, and which he must have sought in vain among the 
 furious spirits and clashing sabers that constantly surrounded 
 and disturbed the throne of his ancestors. 
 
 The hero of Poland, John Sobieski, the next king, fought 
 his way to the crown by a long series of exploits of the most 
 consummate intrepidity and skill. His defeat of the Grai»d 
 Vizier, Kara Mustapha, in Podolia, finally extinguished aJl 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 363 
 
 rivalry, and he was placed on the throne by acclamation. All 
 his conceptions were magnificent ; on the peace with the Porte 
 he sent his ambassador with a train of seven hundred ; a num- 
 ber which offended the pride of the Turk, and gave rise to one 
 of those pithy sarcasms, which enliven diplomacy. The Po- 
 lish ambassador, who had been detained for some days outside 
 the walls of Constantinople, by his own haughty demand, that 
 the vizier should come to meet him at the gates, required a 
 supply of provisions for his attendants. " Tell the ambassador," 
 answered the vizier, " that if he is come to take Constantinople, 
 he has not men enough; but if it is only to represent his mas- 
 ter, he has too many. But if he wants foo^ tell him that it is 
 as easy for my master the Sultan, to feed seven hundred Poles 
 at the gates of the city, as it is to feed the seven thousand Poles 
 who are now chained in his galleys." 
 
 The ambassador was at length admitted; and resolving to 
 dazzle the Turks by a magnificence, unseen before, he ordered 
 some of his horses to be shod with silver, so loosely fastened 
 on, that the shoes were scattered through the streets. Some of 
 them were immediately brought to the vizier ; who, smiling at 
 the contrivance, observed, " The infidel has shoes of silver for 
 his horses, but a head of lead for himself. His republic is too 
 poor for this waste. He might make a better use of his silver 
 at home." 
 
 But Sobieski's great triumph was to come. The Turkish 
 army, strongly reinforced, made a sudden irruption into the 
 Austrian territories ; swept all resistance before them, and com- 
 menced the siege of Vienna. The year 1683 is still recorded 
 among the most trying times of Europe. The Austrian em- 
 pire seemed to be on the verge of dissolution. But the fall of 
 Vienna would have been more than the expulsion of the Aus- 
 trian family from its states ; it w r ould have been the overthrow 
 of the barriers of western Europe. All crowns were already 
 darkened by the sullen and terrible superiority of Mahometan- 
 ism. The possession of the Austrian capital would have fixed 
 the Turk in the most commanding position of Germany. Vien- 
 na would have been a second Constantinople. 
 
 The siege was pressed with the savage fury of the Turk, 
 The emperor and his household had fled. The citizens, assail- 
 ed by famine, disease, and the sword, were in despair. Sobies- 
 ki was now summoned, Jess by the entreaties of Austria than 
 by the voice of the Christian world. At the head of the Polish 
 cavalry, which he had made the finest force of the north, he 
 galloped to the assistance of the beleagured city, attacked the 
 
364 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 grand vizier in his intrenchments, totally defeated him, and 
 drove the remnants of the Turkish host, which had proclaimed 
 itself invincible, out of the Austrian dominions. No service 
 of such an extent had been wrought by soldiership within 
 memory. Vienna was one voice of wonder and gratitude, and 
 when the archbishop, on the day of the Te Deum, ascended to 
 preach the thanksgiving sermon, he, with an allusion almost 
 justifiable, at such a moment, took for his text — 
 
 " There was sent a man from God, whose name was John." 
 The death of this celebrated man in his seventy-sixth year, 
 and after a prosperous reign of twenty -three years, left Poland 
 once more to the perils of a contested throne. Frederick Au- 
 gustus, Elector of Saxony, at last was chosen. No choice 
 could have been more disastrous. Augustus had promised to 
 restore Livonia to Poland ; but it was in the possession of the 
 Swedes, who were now rapidly rising to the highest distinction - 
 as a military power. Charles XII., the lion of the north, had 
 rilled his countrymen with his own spirit ; and the attempt to 
 wrest Livonia from the first warrior of the age was visited 
 with deadly retribution. Augustus had formed a league with 
 the King of Denmark, and the Czar, Peter the Great, a man, 
 whose rude virtues were made to redeem the indolent and sul- 
 len character of his barbarian country. The Swedish king 
 rushed upon the Saxon and Polish forces like a whirlwind ; 
 they were totally defeated. In the next campaign, a still larger 
 army was defeated at Clissow with still more dreadful slaugh- 
 ter. An assembly held at Warsaw, under Charles, now de- 
 clared Augustus incapable of the crown. Charles proposed to 
 give the sovereignty to the third son of Sobieski ; but the prince 
 magnanimously refused a throne which he considered the 
 right of his elder brothers, both of whom were in a Saxon for- 
 tress. Stanislaus Leizinski was at this period accidentally de- 
 puted to Charles on some business of the senate. The king 
 was struck with his manly appearance. " How can we pro- 
 ceed to an election," said the deputy, " whilst James and Con- 
 stantine Sobieski are in a dungeon?" "How can we deliver 
 your republic," exclaimed Charles, abruptly, " if we do not 
 elect a new king?" The suggestion was followed by offering 
 the scepter to Stanislaus, who was soon after, in 1705, proclaim- 
 ed monarch of Poland. Charles now plunged furiously into 
 Saxony, and broke the power of the Elector. But the caprice 
 of war is proverbial. The Russians had been at last taugh* 
 to fight even by their defeats. The ruinous battle of Pultowai 
 irove Charles from the field and the throne. Stanislaus fled 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 365 
 
 Augustus was restored in 1710, and Poland was left to acquire 
 strength, by a temporary rest, for new calamities. In the win- 
 ter of 1735, Russia was delivered from the only enemy that 
 had threatened her ruin — Charles was killed at the siege of 
 Fredericshall. 
 
 The reign of Peter raised Russia into a European power. 
 Strength produced ambition, and the successors of Peter began 
 to interfere closely with the policy of Poland. The death of Fre- 
 derick III., in 1764, gave the first direct opportunity of influenc- 
 ing the election, and Count Stanislaus Poniatowski, whose per- 
 sonal graces had recommended him to the empress, and whose 
 subserviency made him a fit instrument for the Russian objects, 
 was chosen king in 1764. Bribes and the bayonet were his 
 claims, yet there were times when he exhibited neither the de- 
 pend mce of a courtier nor the weakness of a slave. 
 
 A new era was now to begin in the history of Poland. Re- 
 ligious persecution was her ruin. The reformation had been 
 extensively spread in the provinces. From an early period the 
 Polish hierarchy, devoted to Rome, had always exerted the 
 most rancorous spirit against the Protestants. A succession of 
 persecuting decrees had been made, chiefly from the begin- 
 ning of the 10th century. But by the general disturbances of the 
 government, or the wisdom of the monarchs, they had nearly 
 fallen into oblivion. But in the interregnum between the death 
 of Frederick, and the election of Stanislaus, the popish party 
 carried in the convocation-diet a series of tyrannical measures, 
 prohibiting the Protestants, or dissidents, as they were called, 
 from the exercise of their religion, and from all situations and 
 offices under government. The dissidents, fearful of still more 
 violent measures, appealed to foreign governments. Russia, 
 eager to interfere, immediately marched in a body of troops to 
 support their claims. A popish confederacy, long celebrated 
 afterwards in the unhappy history of the kingdom, was formed 
 in 1767, and from that hour Poland had scarcely an hour's re- 
 spite from civil war. 
 
 Poland was now ripe for ruin. In 1769, on pretense of a 
 plague, the king of Prussia advanced a body of troops into 
 Polish Prussia. The possession of this province had long 
 been coveted by the wily monarch. Its position between his 
 German dominions and Eastern Prussia, rendered it important. 
 He now found the kingdom in confusion, and he determined to 
 seize his prize. To make it secure, he proposed a partition to 
 Austria and Russia ; to the Austrian emperor, at an interview 
 at Nicss. in Silesia, in 1769, or in the following year at New 
 26 81* 
 
366 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 gtadt ; to the empress of Russia, by an embassy of his brother 
 Henry to St. Petersburgh. This infamous treaty was signed at 
 St. Petersburgh in 1772. Stanislaus had no power to resist this 
 tyranny, but he attempted to remove its chief evils by giving 
 his people a free constitution in 1791. The neighborhood of 
 freedom again brought down the wrath of Russia. A Russian 
 army of 70,000 men was instantly under orders. The em- 
 press' brief commands were, " that the constitution should be 
 abolished." The King of Prussia, Frederic William, provi- 
 sionally seized Dantzic, Thorn, and a part of Great Poland. 
 The Russian ambassador entered the diet with troops, and 
 forced the assembly to comply with his requisitions. The na 
 tion was indignant. Kosciusko, who with the nobles had fled, 
 now returned from Leipsic, put himself at the head of a multi- 
 tude rather than an army, defeated several bodies of Russians, 
 with great slaughter, reinstated the king, and was soon at the 
 head of 70,000 men ; with those he also repulsed the Prussian 
 army. But he was suddenly attacked by Suwarrow, and after 
 a long conflict was utterly defeated and taken prisoner. Su- 
 warrow then marched against Warsaw, which he took by 
 storm, murdering in the suburb of Praga upwards of thirty 
 thousand human beings of all ages. In 1795 the third parti- 
 tion of Poland was effected. Stanislaus was sent to St. Peters- 
 burgh, where in 1798 he died. The heroic Kosciusko was sub- 
 sequently liberated by the Emperor Paul, and after residing in 
 France up to the period of the allied invasion, died at Soleure, 
 October 15, 1817, in his sixty-fifth year; a name consecrated 
 to eternal memory. 
 
 For this hideous conspiracy of ambition and blood, Poland 
 was sternly avenged by the French armies. Her oppressors 
 were broken to the dust. From this period she began to reco- 
 ver. Napoleon raised her to a partial degree of independence. 
 The congress of Vienna made her a kingdom once more, but 
 still a Russian kingdom. 
 
 ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION OF STANISLAUS, KING OF POLAND, 
 
 The following narrative is related by Constantine Count 
 Sobieski, a descendant of John Sobieski, king of Poland, and 
 who seemed to have inherited the spirit of that great monarch. 
 
 In the year 1771, instigated by the courts of Vienna and 
 Constantinople, the confederate lords of Poland were laying 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 367 
 
 waste their country, from one end to the other, and perpetrating 
 all kinds of outrage on the loyal inhabitants. A plan was laid 
 for surprising and taking the king : s person. Forty conspira- 
 tors met at Czetschokow, and in presence of their commander^ 
 Pulaski, one of the most daring of these rebels, ^wore with the 
 most horrid oaths to deliver Stanislaus, alive or dead, into his 
 hands. About a month after this meeting, these noblemen, at 
 the head of a band of assassins, disguised themselves as peas- 
 ants, and concealing their arms in wagons of hay, which they 
 drove before them, they entered Warsaw unsuspected. 
 
 It was ten o'clock, on the 3d of September, 1771, that they 
 found an opportunity to execute their scheme. They placed 
 themselves, under cover of the night, in those avenues of the 
 city through which they knew his majesty must pass in his 
 way from Villanow, where he had been dining with me. His 
 carriage was escorted by four of his own attendants, myself, 
 and twelve of my guards. We had scarcely lost sight of Vil- 
 lanow, when the conspirators rushed out and surrounded us, 
 commanding the coachman to stop, and beating down the men 
 with the butt-end of their muskets. Several shots were fired 
 into the coach ; one passed through my hat as I was getting 
 out, sword in hand, the better to repel an attack, the motive of 
 which I could not divine. A cut across my right leg, with a 
 saber, soon laid me under the wheels ; and, whilst I lay there, 
 I heard the shot pouring into the coach like hail, and felt the 
 villains stepping over my body to finish the murder of the king. 
 
 It was then that our friend Butzou, who was at that period 
 a private in my service, stood between his sovereign and the 
 rebels. In one instant he received several balls through his 
 limbs, and a thrust from a bayonet in his breast, which cast 
 him, weltering in his blood, upon me. By this time, all the 
 persons who had formed the escort were either wounded or dis- 
 persed. Being now secure of their prey, one of the assassins 
 opened the carriage door; and, with shocking imprecations, 
 seizing the king by the hair, cried, " Tyrant, we have thee now; 
 thy hour is come!" and discharged his pistol so near his ma- 
 jesty's face, that he felt the heat of the flash. A second villain 
 cut him on the forehead with his sword ; whilst a third, who 
 was on horseback, laying hold of his collar, between himself 
 and another, at full gallop, dragged him along the ground 
 through the suburbs of the city. 
 
 During the latter part of this outrageous scene, some of out 
 frightened people returned with a detachment, and seeing But- 
 zou and me almost lifeless, carried us to the royal palace, whera 
 
368 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 all was commotion and alarm. The foot -guards immediately 
 followed the tract that the conspirators had seemed to take. In 
 one of the streets they found the king's hat dyed in blood, and 
 his pelisse perfectly reticulated with bullet holes. This con- 
 firmed their j*pprehensions of his death ; and they came back, 
 filling all Warsaw with dismay. 
 
 The assassins, meanwhile, got clear of the town ; finding, 
 however, that the king, by loss of blood, weakness, and wounds 
 in his feet, was not likely to exist much longer in their manner 
 of dragging him towards their employer, they set him on a 
 horse, and redoubled their speed. When they came to the 
 moat which surrounds Warsaw, they compelled him to leap 
 across it. In the attempt, his beast fell twice ; and at the second 
 fall, broke its leg. They then compelled him, fainting as he 
 was with pain, to mount another, and spur it over. The con- 
 spirators had no sooner passed the ditch than they threw his 
 majesty down, and held him there, till Lukawski tore from his 
 neck the ribin of the black eagle, and its diamond cross. 
 Lukawski was so foolishly- sure of his prisoner, that he quitted 
 his charge, and repaired with the spoils to Pulaski, meaning* to 
 show them as an incontestable proof of his success. Many of 
 the other plunderers, following his example, fled also, and left 
 only seven of the party, with Kosinski at their head, to remain 
 over the unfortunate Stanislaus. 
 
 The night was grown so dark, that they could not be sure of 
 their way, and their horses stumbling at every step, over stumps 
 of trees and hollows in the earth, increased their fears to such 
 a degree, that they obliged the king to keep up with them on 
 foot; he literally marked his path with his blood, his shoes 
 having been torn ofT in the struggle at the carriage. Thus 
 they continued, wandering backwards and forwards, and round 
 the skirts of Warsaw, without any exact knowledge of their 
 situation. The men who guarded him at last became so much 
 afraid of their prisoner taking advantage of these circumstan- 
 ces to escape, that they repeatedly called on Kosinski for 
 orders to put him to death. Kosinski refused ; but their de- 
 mands growing more violent and imperious, the king expected 
 every moment to receive the points of their bayonets in his 
 breast. 
 
 When I recovered from my swoon, and my leg was bound 
 up, I felt myself able to stir ; and questioning the officers, who 
 stood about my coach, I found that a general panic had seized 
 them. They knew not how to proceed; they shuddered at 
 leaving the king to the mercy of the confederates ; and yet 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET, 36& 
 
 were fearful, by pursuing them further, to increase them. I 
 tried what I could do to dispel this last dread. Anxious at 
 any rate, to make another attempt to preserve him, though I 
 could not ride myself, I strenuously advised an immediate pur 
 suit on horseback ; and that neither darkness nor danger should 
 be permitted to impede their course. A little spirit on the side 
 of the nobles soon brought back hope and animation to the ter- 
 rified soldiers, and my orders were instantly obeyed ; but, I 
 must add, almost as instantly disappointed; for, in less than 
 half an hour, they returned in despair, showing me his majes- 
 ty's coat, which they had found in the moat. I suppose the 
 ruffians tore it off when they rifled him. It was rent in seve- 
 ral places, and so wet with blood, that the officer who presented 
 it to me, declared it as his opinion, that thejr had murdered the 
 king there, and had drawn away the body ; for, by the light of 
 the torches, he could trace drops of blood to a considerable 
 distance. 
 
 Meanwhile, the king was driven before the seven conspira- 
 tors, so far into the wood of Biclaney, that, unknowing whither 
 they went, they came up with one of the guard-houses, and, to 
 their extreme terror, were accosted by a patrol. Four of the 
 banditti immediately disappeared, leaving only two with Kos- 
 inski, who, much alarmed, forced his prisoner to walk faster, 
 and keep a profound stillness. Notwithstanding all this pre- 
 caution, scarce a quarter of an hour after, they were challenged 
 by a second watch ; and the other two men, now taking to 
 flight, left Kosinski, full of dismay, alone with the king. His 
 majesty, sinking with pain and fatigue, beseeched permission 
 to rest for a moment. Kosinski refused, and pointing his sword 
 towards his breast, compelled him to proceed. The king obey- 
 ed in silence. 
 
 As they walked on, the unfortunate Stanislaus, hardly able 
 to drag one limb after the other, observed, that his conductor 
 gradually seemed to forget his vigilance, till he appeared, at 
 last, thoroughly given up to thought. He took courage at this ; 
 a.nd conceiving some hope, from the manner in which he was 
 agitated, lie ventured to say — " I see that you know not how to 
 proceed ; you cannot but be aware, that the enterprise you are 
 engaged in, end how it will, is full of peril to you. Successful 
 conspirators are always jealous of each other ; Pulaski will find 
 it as easy to rid himself of your life, as to take mine. Avoid this 
 danger ; and I will promise you none on my account. Suffer 
 me to enter the convent of Biclaney ; we cannot be far from 
 it; and then, do you provide for your safety." Kosinski, ren 
 
370 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 dered desperate by the circumstances in which he was involved 
 replied, " No, 'I have sworn ; and I would rather sacrifice my 
 life than my honor." 
 
 The king had neither strength nor spirits to make any an- 
 swer. They continued to break their way through the under- 
 wood, till they arrived close to Mariemont. Here Stanislaus, 
 unable to stir another step, fell back against a tree, and again 
 implored for one moment's rest, to recover some power to move. 
 Kosinski now consented. This unexpected humanity gave his 
 majesty courage to employ the minutes, during which they sat 
 together, in another attempt to soften bis heart, and to convince 
 him, that the oath he had taken was atrocious, and by no means 
 •binding to a brave and virtuous man. 
 
 Kosinski heard him with attention, and exhibited strong 
 symptoms of being affected. " But," said he, " if I should assent 
 to what you propose, and reconduct you back to Warsaw, what 
 will be the consequence to me? I shall be taken and executed." 
 " I give you my word," answered the king, " that you shall 
 not suffer any injury. But if you doubt my honor, escape 
 while you can. I shall find my way to some place of shelter, 
 and will direct your pursuers to take the opposite road to that 
 which you may choose." Kosinski, entirely overcome, threw 
 himself on his knees before his majesty ; and, imploring pardon 
 for what he done, swore, that, from that hour, he would defend 
 his king against all the conspirators, and would trust, confi- 
 dently, on his word, for future preservation. The king direct- 
 ed him to seek refuge for them both in the mill, near which 
 they were discoursing. Kosinski obeyed, and knocked, but no 
 one gave answer. He then broke a pane of glass in the 
 window, and through it begged succor for a nobleman, who had 
 been way-laid by robbers. The miller refused to come out, or 
 to let them in, telling them it was his belief they were robbers 
 themselves, and, if they did not go away, he would fire on them. 
 
 This dispute had not long continued, when the king con- 
 trived to crawl up close to the window, and said, " My good 
 friend, if we were banditti, as you suppose, it would be as easy 
 for us, without all this parley, to break into your house as to 
 break this pane of glass ; therefore, if you would not incur the 
 shame of suffering a fellow-creature to perish for want of assist- 
 ance, let us in." This argument had its weight with the man, 
 and, opening the door, he admitted them. After some trouble, 
 his majesty procured pen and ink, and immediately addressing 
 a few lines to me, at the palace, he prevailed on one of the 
 miller's sons to carry it. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 371 
 
 The joy experienced at the sight of this note, I cannot de- 
 scribe. The words were literally these : " By the miracu- 
 lous hand of Providence, I am escaped from the arms of as- 
 sassins. I am now at the mill of Mariemont. Send as soon 
 as possible, and take me away. I am wounded, but not dan- 
 gerously." 
 
 Regardles of my condition, I instantly got into a carriage, 
 and, followed by a detachment of horse, arrived at the mill. I 
 met Kosinski at the door, keeping guard with his sword drawn. 
 As he knew my person, he admitted me directly. The king 
 had fallen into a sleep, and lay in one corner of the hovel, on 
 the ground, covered with the miller's cloak. To see the most 
 virtuous monarch in the world, thus abused by his ungrateful 
 subjects, pierced me to the heart; and kneeling down by 'his' 
 side, I took hold of his hand, and, in a paroxysm of tears, which 
 I am not ashamed to confess, I exclaimed, " I thank Almighty 
 God, that I again see my sovereign alive!" These words 
 struck the simple family with amazement. They instantly 
 dropped on their knees before the king, whom my voice had 
 awakened. The good Stanislaus, graciously thanking them 
 for their kindness, told the miller to come to the palace the next 
 day, when he would show him his gratitude. Soon after, the 
 officers of the detachment assisted his majesty and myself into 
 the carriage, and, accompanied by Kosinski, we reached War- 
 saw about six in the morning. His majesty alighted at the 
 palace, in the midst of the joyous cries of the people shouting, 
 " the king is alive." Never, whilst I live, shall I again behold 
 such a scene. The great gate was ordered to be left open. 
 Every soul in Warsaw, from the highest to the lowest, came 
 running to catch a glimpse of their rescued sovereign. 
 
 NARRATIVE OF THE POLISH INSURRECTION. 
 
 [Prom the Monthly Magazine.] 
 
 The following account, written by Peter Wysocki, will be 
 read with interest, though it describes the dawning of a revo- 
 lution that has been unsuccessful. Ordinary readers will de- 
 rive from it that interest which attends the relation " of hair* 
 breadth 'scapes" and "moving accidents;" but the lovers of 
 liberty will do more — they will imbibe from it the spirit that in- 
 spires the honest heart, when it awakens and rinds itself with- 
 in the thrall of tyranny. It is not necessary J ere to detail wha 
 
372 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 Wysocki was, as his own narrative sufficiently points out the 
 considerable part that he acted in directing the insurrection of 
 the military academy of Warsaw, and in discovering those ar- 
 dent spirits that lay concealed under the gloom that despotism 
 ."mposed, hut were still ready to start into action the instant that 
 the whisper of freedom reached their ear. 
 
 The world already knows what was the fate of the unfortu- 
 nate Poles who had presumed to plan the independence of their 
 country in 1825. The imprisonment of Soltyk, Krzyzanowski, 
 Albert Grzymala, A. Plichta, and others, the long persecution 
 of Adolphus Cichowsky, and the remembrance of the services 
 rendered by Niemojewski, had inspired the hearts of the young 
 ensigns with feelings of the noblest patriotism ; and the taunts 
 of our enemies, who mocked the unhappy sufferers, first in- 
 spired our minds with the thought of avenging them. At this 
 period, however, the general state of Europe, the character of 
 the men who composed the French ministry, the misunder- 
 standings that existed even among the most upright Poles, to- 
 gether with the mistrust occasioned by numerous instances of 
 treachery, seemed to us invincible obstacles to our plan ; yet 
 we did not lose courage. At length Russia declared war on 
 Turkey ; this circumstance cast a consoling ray of hope on the 
 Polish patriots. 
 
 Nothing decisive, however, had as yet been resolved in the 
 military academy. It was not till the 15th of December, 1828, 
 when several fellow-students were accidentally assembled at my 
 lodgings, viz. C. Paszkiewicz, J. DobroAvski, Karl Karsnicki, 
 Alex. Laski, and Josh. Gorowski, that we began to consult 
 freely on the political state of Europe, on the necessity of liber- 
 ating our countrymen from the yoke that oppressed them, and on 
 the measures to be taken in order to restore the privileges of the 
 constitutional chart, which the monarch and the nation had both 
 sworn to maintain. The following day I communicated the 
 conversation that had passed to several of the ensigns, whose 
 way of thinking was perfectly known to me. My interview 
 with these young men fully convinced me that their efforts 
 would be such as at once to decide the fate of our country. We 
 agreed upon a form of oath, which ran, as nearly as I can re- 
 member, in the following words : 
 
 " We swear before God and our oppressed country, deprived 
 of constitutional rights — 1st. In case of incarceration, not to 
 betray any member of the society, even though we should be 
 subjected to the most cruel torture. 2dly. To unite all our 
 endeavors towards one object, <md even to sacrifice our lives, if 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. o73 
 
 necessity require it, in defense of the constitutional chart, which 
 is daily violated. 3dly. To use the utmost precaution in the 
 admission of new members, and never to take this step without 
 due notice to the society; and most especially to admit no 
 drunkard, gamester, or other individual whose conduct is not 
 wholly immaculate." 
 
 From this moment we promised to devote our whole and un- 
 ceasing- attention to effect our purpose. 
 
 It was difficult to introduce officers and others into a society 
 consisting of so few members, because those lately introduced 
 feared exposing themselves to danger ; I was therefore alone 
 authorized to accept new members, without informing my col- 
 leagues ; I was also allowed to invite each member of the ori- 
 ginal society to receive such individuals as I should point out. 
 In consequence of this authority I went to Paszkiewicz, captain 
 of the grenadiers of the guards, and having represented to him 
 the state of Europe, I declared to him that we had formed a 
 secret association, the object of which was to change the gov- 
 ernment of Poland. This gallant officer listened to me with 
 signs of the most lively satisfaction ; he promised to support 
 our views, as well as to assist their propagation among his 
 friends, and the members of other societies. I name him with- 
 out authority, persuaded that Polish history will one day be 
 proud of his name. 
 
 Encouraged by the success of my first step to obtain adher- 
 ents among the officers of the Polish army, I hastened to the 
 battalion of miners ; I calculated on the patriotism that had 
 always distinguished them, and my expectations were not dis- 
 appointed. Having received into our society Albert Przedpel- 
 ski, second lieutenant of the battalion, I obtained an introduc- 
 tion to Felix Nowosielski, a man greatly beloved by his sol- 
 diery, and in high esteem among his fellow-officers. The re- 
 sult was, that Nowosielski answered on his honor for most of 
 the officers in the battalion of miners. 
 
 By the assistance of Karsnicki, I made acquaintance with 
 Koszicki, an officer of the select company of the first light re- 
 giment, who assured me that most of the officers of this corps 
 were agreed as to the necessity of a change of government. 
 In respect to the other regiments, all the officers, the moment 
 they were let into our secret, promised their most zealous ef- 
 forts in inducing the whole army to participate our views. The 
 officers admitted into the secret society now required I should 
 enter into negotiations with the inhabitants, in order to ascer- 
 tain if they approved the inclination of the soldiery, and .vould 
 
 32 
 
S74 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 support their efforts when the decisive moment arrived. I there- 
 fore dispatched Ensign Paszkiewicz, to Mr. J. U. Niemcewicz, 
 a man who had rendered the utmost service to his country, to 
 request he would be pleased to assist us with the wisdom of his 
 counsels. This noble and aged Pole fully approved our de- 
 sign ; he praised our zealous ardor, but strongly recommended 
 that the execution of the project should be postponed. " It i* 
 not yet time," said Niemcewicz, " but, depend upon it, the hap- 
 py moment will yet arrive !" 
 
 The encouraging expressions of Niemcewicz filled us with 
 activity and enthusiasm. We all saw in him the organ of the 
 wishes and hopes of the nation. About this time, Ensign Go- 
 rowski made me acquainted with his brother Adam, who, in 
 the name of his fellow citizens, on whom he bestowed unbound- 
 ed praise, assured me of the success of the undertaking. Short- 
 ly after, I was introduced into the house of the deputy Zwier- 
 kowski where I had sufficient opportunity of convincing my- 
 self that the citizens were fully prepared to second the efforts 
 of the troops. 
 
 A certain number of deputies, convened, at my suggestion, 
 by Gustavus Malachowski, decided, after mature consideration, 
 that the moment for a general revolt could not yet be fixed, but 
 that, in expectation of a more favorable instant, every endeavor 
 was to be made to animate the troops, and to disseminate a pa- 
 triotic feeling among them. 
 
 Captain Paszkiewicz having expressed a desire to be intro- 
 duced to some of these gentlemen, they were apprized of a meet- 
 ing that was to take place at my apartment. At this consulta- 
 tion it was agreed, that, provided the war with Turkey was 
 commenced immediately, it might prove extremely advantageous 
 to our enterprise ; it was nevertheless resolved to await the 
 assembling of the diet, which, it was said, would take place by 
 the end of April. I inquired of the gentlemen present what 
 was to be done if the diet should not assemble at all, or in case 
 the war should be favorable to the Russians ; all, however, were 
 of opinion that no decisive stroke could be struck before the 
 meeting of the diet. From this moment all our operations, 
 which had commenced on the 15th of December, 1828, and 
 had continued till the beginning of April, were postponed. 
 
 During this interruption I had an understanding with Ur- 
 banski, a lieutenant of the grenadier guard, w r hom I informed 
 of our secret association, and who promised, in case of need, 
 to supply us with some thousand cartridges, which he faithful- 
 ly performed. From that instant this officer, impressed with 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 375 
 
 the noblest feelings of patriotism, was incessant in his exertions 
 for the national cause ; he always acted with vigor and cau- 
 tion, and it is to him that we are perhaps most indebted for the 
 success of our efforts. 
 
 A report was now spread of the expected coronation and the 
 assembly of the diet, which enlivened our hearts with fresh 
 hopes: towards the 10th of May, 1829, we accordingly recom- 
 menced operations with new ardor. Several landholders came 
 to be present at the coronation. The deputies Przeinski and 
 Zwierkowski soon after waited on me, and declared, that the 
 longed-for hour of taking up arms for our independence, under 
 the eyes of the representatives of the nation, was already at 
 hand. "We will carry our petitions," said the deputies, "to 
 the foot of the throne. We will require that the sittings of the 
 diet shall be public, that the freedom of the press shall be guar- 
 anteed, that the committee of examination, &c. &c, shall be 
 abolished ; and if our requests are refused, especially if the de- 
 puties are imprisoned, then you must support our demands by 
 force of arms." 
 
 I communicated this declaration, with all its particulars, to 
 the society ; it was heard with the warmest enthusiasm, and not 
 a doubt was entertained that the nation would approve the jus- 
 tice of the plan now carrying on by the army. The above- 
 mentioned petition was attended by no favorable result ; yet the 
 deputies in consideration of the state of political circumstances, 
 did not yet authorize our having recourse to arms. Dissatis- 
 fied with the answer we received on the subject, we again ap- 
 plied to the deputies, to know whether we should not make use 
 of the means at our disposal to accelerate the grand work, viz. 
 the re-conquest of our constitutional independence ? They re- 
 plied, " it was not yet time, and so much the less, as the Rus- 
 sians had but shortly before obtained great advantages in the 
 Turkish war." • 
 
 All the persons I saw concurred in our opinions ; there was 
 no longer any hesitation except as to time ; whatever delay en- 
 sued was only occasioned by the political state of the moment; 
 the diet, which took place the same year, left us little hopes, 
 and several of the deputies already began to regret not having 
 seized the opportunity offered by the Turkish war. The dead 
 stillness of all Europe, and especially the French ministry, 
 partly damped the warmth of our ardor. 
 
 At length the French revolution summoned every nation of 
 Europe, with a voice of thunder, to throw off the yoke of pow- 
 er, wherever it had passed the bounds of legality, and assumed 
 
376 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 a tyrannical shape. We now entertained the brightest hopes ; 
 and as at this time the same sanguine feeling had spread through 
 the army encamped near Warsaw, I was convinced of the har 
 mony that reigned amongst almost all the officers. Nothing 
 was spoken of but the French revolution, the smallest details 
 of which were over and over again discussed. As for our- 
 selves, we now began to see our way more clearly, and even to 
 act with less precaution, but yet with more zeal than ever, in 
 daily expectation of the favorable moment for flying to arms, 
 the instant we had a leader willing to accept the supreme com- 
 mand of the army. Though more than 200 officers were 
 already initiated in the secret, yet the society, which was to be- 
 gin and complete the work of the revolution on the plan pre- 
 viously concerted, could not immediately receive its fixed and 
 ultimate organization ; it was not till they had quitted the camp, 
 and had returned to Warsaw, that we took the appropriate and 
 direct measures to attain our end. We still doubted whether 
 the undertaking of the army might not be disapproved by the 
 nation ; this doubt, however, was soon dispelled by my friend 
 Boleslaus Ostrowski, who assured us that the army could not 
 question the patriotism and devotion of the nation ; that it was 
 the highest injustice to suppose that the long state of servitude 
 it. had suffered, had either impaired its love of independence, or 
 effaced the memory of its former fame and dignity. 
 
 To Urbanski, paymaster of the guard, I represented the ne- 
 cessity of speedily establishing societies similar to our own in 
 every regiment, in order that on a fixed day, at a fixed hour, 
 the officers might lead the soldiers to an appointed post. Za- 
 liwski, who happened to be present, and whose ideas and tal- 
 ents were perfectly known to me, was also of this opinion. 
 We accordingly distributed among us the different divisions of 
 troops then lying as. garrison in the capital. I promised to 
 gain over the officers of the grenadier and sharp-shooter com- 
 panies, while Urbanski did the same by those of the guard. 
 Borkiewicz, second lieutenant of the 7th regiment, having as- 
 sembled those officers who belonged to the society, we declared 
 io them they must instantly bind themselves to lead on their 
 soldiers, and to choose a representative to whom the direction 
 of the corps was to be confided ; Zaliwski w r as accordingly 
 chosen, without hesitation ; and he and Urbanski ever since 
 continued their most strenuous support. On account of the ab- 
 sence of several officers, the organization of societies and the 
 choice of a representative in the sharp-shooter companies could 
 not be effected till somewhat later. A few days previously, a 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 3 7 7 
 
 Polish pamphlet had accidentally fallen into my hands, the 
 title and first leaves of which had been torn away; it seemed tu 
 contain the means of rescuing Poland, at the time of its third 
 dismemberment. This pamphlet had great influence on the 
 members of our society, as well as the reflections of Kilinski, 
 which we had already perused, and which had been sent to us 
 out of Posen as a pledge of fraternal sympathy, and as a token 
 of zeal in our mutual welfare, not inferior to our own. 
 
 Towards the end of September, and in the first days of Oc- 
 tober, bills were stuck up at the corners of many of the streets 
 in Warsaw summoning the Poles to revolution, and containing 
 menaces against the errand duke, with even a notice that, from 
 the next new year, the Belvedere palace would be to let. We 
 had no knowledge of all this. Reports were spread in every 
 direction that a new revolution was about to break out ; one 
 even went so far as to fix the day — it was to be the 10th, 15 f h, 
 and 20th of October. These rumors induced the old govern- 
 ment to stand more on its guard. 
 
 As I had no opportunity of seeing J. B. Ostrowski, I begged 
 Louis Nabielak to go to Lazienski,* and enjoined him to in- 
 form Ostrowski, that after the 18th of October we were daily 
 prepared to take up arms. I recommended Ensign Fraszkow- 
 ski to Nabielak, and begged he would concert with him the mea- 
 sures to be taken, in order, from the very beginning, to act in 
 union with the inhabitants, either in the Saxon square or at the 
 Belvedere ; this plan, however, could not be executed, as the 
 officers had not yet been able to come to an understanding on 
 the point. At length Fraszkowski, seconded by Nabielak and 
 other officers, made the request that I would fix the 18th of Oc- 
 tober for the commencement of our enterprise; yet on condi- 
 tion that I was still to hold a final consultation with Zaliwski 
 and Urbanski. At this consultation it was, however, decided 
 to delay the affair for some time longer, which occasioned con- 
 siderable dissatisfaction and enmity towards me. The reproach- 
 es I had to undergo, and the calumnies with which I was load- 
 ed, did not in the least slacken my zeal. The society divided 
 itself into parties; and J. B. Ostrowski, dreading the vigilance 
 of spies, especially after the apprehension of several students 
 of the university, discontinued his support. Misunderstand 
 ings likewise arose in the corps, which also withdrew then 
 assistance. This wretched state of discord lasted till the next 
 consultation with Xaverius Bronikowski. I redoubled mv 
 
 * A small village near Warsaw. 
 32* 
 
378 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 efforts to assemble all the officers ; having effected this, they 
 required to be convinced in what light the chamber of deputies 
 would consider our projects, in consequence of which, I and 
 Zaliwski undertook to ascertain the genuine feeling of the in- 
 habitants, and to fix the day when the struggle for the national 
 cause was at last to begin. The execution of our design was, 
 however, again postponed, by the imprisonment of several in- 
 dividuals, by order of the grand duke, as well as by the gene- 
 ral apprehension evinced in the capital. Urbanski was seized ; 
 and I myself, by order of the duke, was examined by Olendzki. 
 Precautionary measures were taken at the Belvedere, and all 
 proceedings at the military academy were watched with ten- 
 fold suspicion. Geznez was also thrown into confinement, and 
 underwent a rigorous examination ; while all. communication 
 between us and the city was strictly forbidden by the duke. 
 Makrott was instantly at the heels of every individual who 
 absented himself from the barracks ; and the direction of the 
 academy was confided to General Trembicki. 
 
 During this interval of terror and disorder, Xaverius Bro- 
 nikowski declared his irrevocable determination of withdrawing 
 from the society, and of refusing all future assistance J* he ac- 
 cordingly abandoned his usual occupations, resigned the editor- 
 ship of the Polish Courier to Mr. L. Zukowski, and changed 
 his residence. On the 21st of November, Zaliwski, Broni- 
 kowski, and myself, repaired to the library of the " Learned 
 Society," under the pretext of visiting its cabinet of curiosities, 
 but in fact to meet Lelewel,f to whom Xaverius Bronikowski 
 and Maurice Mochnacki had already communicated the exist- 
 ence of a secret military club. When Lelewel entered, I took 
 the word, and spoke pretty nearly as follows : — 
 
 " A report has been circulated, that the Polish army openly 
 approves the principles of the present government — that it is 
 inseparably and unconditionally attached to the Grand Duke — 
 that it boldly justifies the abuses daily committed by the misera- 
 ble slaves and spies that surround it — and that living at enmity 
 with the nation, it only serves to oppress and enchain her. In 
 consequence of these rumors, I now declare to you, most res- 
 
 * We translate this passage exactly as it stands in Wysocki's deposition 
 notwithstanding the obscurity to which it gives rise, as Bronikowski is found 
 immediately afterwards in closest intimacy with the society. Perhaps he 
 present declaration was made as a momentary blind to his enemies, in which 
 case, some allusion might have been expected in order to clear up the incon- 
 gruity. 
 
 1 Lelewel is the name of the celebrated professor, so active in fanning tha 
 flame of revolt among the students ot the university. He is a man of most 
 mstinguisbed talent, and has since been called to the cabinet. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 379 
 
 pected citizen, in the name of this so hatefully accused and ca* 
 lumniated army, that we, indeed, have sworn fidelity to our 
 king, but he has also sworn fidelity to the nation. As the king 
 has violated his oath, he has absolved us from ours. We are 
 now prepared to blend our exertions with those of the nation, 
 and fly to arms in defense of those rights which were guaran- 
 tied us by the constitutional chart. You need but speak; 
 your arguments and talents will serve as our guides. You see 
 in us present the organs of a vast number of officers who 
 share the same sentiments." 
 
 Lelewel answered, that nobody imagined the army favored 
 an unjust government, that the nation participated the views of 
 the army, and all good Poles thought as we did. " Though 
 several military conspiracies," said he, " have had an unfortu- 
 nate issue, still I doubt not your efforts will be crowned with a 
 happy result. Forty thousand men under arms, who share the 
 same opinions, and express the same wish, cannot fail of bear- 
 ing the national feeling along with them." In compliance with 
 the opinion of Lelewel, it was determined at this interview, that 
 the Sunday evening following, viz. 28th of November, should 
 be the day fixed for a general rising. After a subsequent in- 
 terview with Lelewel, we declared the revolt irrevocably fixed, 
 even though it should necessarily be delayed till Monday. 
 
 Thursday, 25th November. — After the departure of Lelewel, 
 Urbanski, Zaliwski, and myself, held an important deliberation, 
 in which we came to the following resolutions : 
 
 " 1st. That the representatives of the society, viz. the officers 
 of all the regiments lying in garrison at Warsaw, must be 
 immediately assembled. — 2dly. That it be clearly intimated 
 to them, that they were understood to approve our undertaking, 
 and would be expected effectually to second the enterprise. — 
 3dly. That on Sunday, towards evening, the plan of military 
 operations should be read to them." 
 
 On Sunday, the 28th November, about seven o'clock in the 
 evening, the representatives accordingly repaired to the barracks 
 of the guards, and assembled at the apartments of Borkiewicz. 
 During the night from Sunday to Monday we fixed our plan 
 o:' military operations. The following were the main articles*. 
 
 " 1st. To make sure of the person of the Grand Duke. — 2dly. 
 To force the Russian cavalry to lay down their arms. — 3dly. 
 To take possession of the arsenal, and distribute arms among 
 the people. — 4thly. To disarm the regiments of the Russian, 
 Volhynian, and Lithuanian guard, under the command of Gene- 
 sis Essakow and En^elmann." 
 
380 HISTORICAL C BINET. 
 
 The result of this plan is now known to every one. Some 
 of the most remarkable details may however still be interesting. 
 At six o'clock in the evening, the signal of revolt was given by 
 setting fire to the brewery on the Solec, close to the barracks 
 of the Russian cavalry, but by some chance or other the fire 
 was extinguished. The Polish troops left the barracks to repair 
 to their appointed posts : at the same instant, a division, consist- 
 ing of several students of the university, hastened, under com- 
 mand of two ensigns of the academy, to insure the person of 
 the Grand Duke, who, amidst the confusion, might have run a 
 risk of being sacrificed. This business was confided to the 
 two ensigns Fraszkowski and Kobylanski ; the names of the 
 others were, Louis Nabielak, Sewerin Goszczynski, Karl 
 Paszkiewicz, Stanislaus Poninski, Zenon Niemojewski, Louis 
 Orpiszewski, Rochus, and Nicodemus Rupniewski, Valentine 
 Nosiorowski, Louis Jankowski, Edward Trzcinski, Leonard 
 Rettel, Antony Kosinski, Alexander Swientoslawski, Valentine 
 Krosniewski, and Rottermund, all either teachers or pupils of 
 the university, and men of upright character, wholly devoted 
 to the cause. 
 
 Four light companies, and two of the sixth regiment of the 
 line, who were dispatched to assist the ensigns, and to pre- 
 vent the Russian cavalry from forcing their way into the city, 
 were foiled in their mission by General Stanislaus Potocki, 
 who met them on their way, and took them as prisoners of war 
 to the Russians. The four cannons, which were to have taken 
 possession of the post between the rural coffee- house* and the 
 Radziwil barracks, as well as of the passages leading to the 
 Belvedere, and which were only intended to fire for the sake 
 of the moral influence this would have on the troops, were 
 seized by a Polish regiment, which I shall purposely avoid men- 
 tioning, lest its reputation should be for ever branded with in- 
 famy. At the moment the small detachment sent to the Belve- 
 dere disappeared from the little wood at Lazienki, I hurried 
 away to the barracks of the ensigns' academy, accompanied by 
 Lieutenant Schlegel, who brought us cartridges from the camp, 
 and by Joseph Dobrowolski. We found the young men busily 
 engaged at their theoretical studies ; the two above-mentioned 
 gallant officers instantly disarmed the Russian. 
 
 On entering the school, I exclaimed to these valiant youths, 
 " Poles ! the hour of vengeance has struck ; this day we must 
 
 *The Polish expression is wieyska kawa, which means a rural, or country 
 toffee-house. It is difficult to hit the exact signification without being tho 
 roughly acquainted with the localities. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. S8l 
 
 either conquer or die. Follow me ; and may your breasta 
 prove a Thermopylae against the enemies of our freedom !" 
 At the sarr.e moment the hall rung with unanimous cries of— 
 "To arms! To arms!" These noble young fellows loaded 
 their muskets and rushed after their leader, to the number of 
 about one hundred and sixty ; we took the road to the barracks 
 of the three Russian cavalry regiments. Convinced that the 
 select companies were hastening to join us, I gave orders to 
 fire, partly to alarm the Russians, and partly as a signal to the 
 companies that the struggle had already begun. 
 
 After this signal, we forced our way into the middle of the 
 barracks of lancers, where our enemies, thus provoked, imme- 
 diately assembled, about 300 men strong, and drew themselves 
 up in a column before us. We fired upon them ; they at first 
 fell into disorder, but afterwards closed their ranks, and again 
 returned to the attack. We received them with a fresh charge, 
 and redoubled cries of exultation, then rushing on them with 
 the bayonet, broke their column, which dispersed in all direc- 
 tions, leaving us masters of the ground, bestrewed with corpses. 
 At this instant I received news that the cuirassier and hussar 
 regiments were hastening from their barracks to surround us, 
 and cut off our way to the city. The Polish columns that were 
 to have come to our assistance did not make their appearance, 
 and as our cartridges were beginning to fail us, we were, invo- 
 luntarily, compelled to retreat. The regiment of lancers which 
 we had first attacked, and wholly dispersed, allowed us a free 
 passage over the bridge of Sobieski, where we formed a junc- 
 tion with the division that came from the Belvedere. 
 
 Under the idea that the select companies were only waiting 
 orders to join us, I dispatched Camillo Mochnacki with instruc- 
 tions to have them march up as speedily as possible ; he, how- 
 ever, soon returned, with notice that the troops were nowhere 
 to be found, and that the cuirassiers were ranging themselves 
 in order of battle, to cut us off at every possible point on our 
 way back to the city. Having advanced a few paces, I came 
 in sight of a file of cuirassiers, whom, without hesitation, I or- 
 dered to be attacked. Our intrepid youths instantly rushed 
 upon them, and soon forced the enemy to withdraw towards the 
 Belvedere. 
 
 We now collected our forces, and proceeded towards the ru- 
 ral coffee-house. On reaching the square, between this coffee- 
 house and the Radziwil barracks, we again met the cuirassiers, 
 preparing to attack us anew, and at the same time perceived a 
 27 
 
382 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 group of hussars coming- towards us from the alleys of trees. 
 In this imminent danger, our only resource was a rapid march 
 to the left, in order to gain the Radziwil barracks ; we luckily 
 succeeded in reaching this spot, from whence we destroyed a 
 number of the enemy, who seemed on the point of besieging 
 us. Shortly afterwards, finding it impossible to restrain the 
 impetuous ardor of the valiant ensigns, we rushed out of the 
 barracks, burst upon the Russians, and having put a consider- 
 able number of them hors de combat, forced the rest to retreat. 
 We then proceeded towards the city, the way to which now re- 
 mained perfectly free. 
 
 Near the church of St. Alexander we met with General 
 Stanislaus Potocki, the ensigns stopped him, and implored him 
 almost on their knees to join the national cause. I united my 
 entreaties to those of the gallant youths, " General," said I, "we 
 conjure you in the name of your country, of the fetters of Igel- 
 straem, in which you so long languished, place yourself at our 
 head ; do not suppose it is only the military academy that has 
 risen ; all the troops are for us, and are already in possession 
 of the posts we will point out to you." As I however saw that 
 our remonstrances were vain, and we had no time to lose, I 
 ordered him to be set at liberty. A few hours afterwards, he fell 
 by other hands ; his obstinate resistance, and his want of confi- 
 dence in the valor and resolution of the Polish soldiery, brought 
 him to an untimely grave. 
 
 I here finish my recital. It would be useless to describe the 
 scenes of horror and bloodshed I witnessed between the church 
 of St. Alexander and the arsenal. Providence led our steps ; 
 God assisted our beginning ; the God of our forefathers, and 
 of our beloved Poland, has blessed our exertions, and will one 
 day restore to our country its former limits and its ancient fame. 
 According to our previous arrangement, Xaverius Bronikow- 
 ski sent various persons into the different quarters of the town, 
 to serve as leaders of the people. Anastasius Dunin, Wlodi- 
 mir Kormandski, Louis Zukowski, Maurice Mochnacki, Mi- 
 chael Dembinski, and Joseph Koslowski, according to the 
 directions of Bronikowski, began operations in the Altstadt. 
 
 The military academy is under everlasting obligation to Lieu- 
 tenant Schlegel, who on this remarkable night quitted his corps 
 to fight in extremest peril at the head of our noble ensigns. 
 The academy is also deeply indebted to the intrepidity of Do- 
 browolski, whose wounds, received in this memorable conflict, 
 will honor him to the last hour of his life. I have omitted 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 383 
 
 many names well worthy of being mentioned. It belongs to 
 history to conserve them in its public records, and deliver them 
 down to the gratitude of their fellow-countrymen. 
 Written at Warsaw, the 9th December, 1830. 
 
 (Signed) Peter Wysocki, 
 Under-Lieutenant in the Polish army, 
 
 IRISH REBELLION IN 1798. 
 
 The history of no nation in Europe, perhaps, exhibits such 
 a uniform series of misery, oppression, and misfortunes, as that 
 of Ireland. Never acknowledging the undisputed authority 
 of a single monarch, in the early period of its history, the un- 
 happy island was split into hostile districts ; and while the va- 
 rious septs denounced perpetual vengeance against each other, 
 the petty toparchs contended for superiority with all the eager- 
 ness of rivalship, and all the injustice generated by the lust of 
 power. Nor were the people subject to the calamities of war 
 alone ; they were cruelly oppressed during the short intervals 
 of peace, by the chieftains and tanists, whose horses and dogs 
 they were obliged to feed, in consequence of certain exactions, 
 denominated cosherings and sessings, which, in the strong lan- 
 guage of a celebrated lawyer, " made the lord an absolute ty- 
 rant, and the tenant a very slave or villain ; and in one respect 
 more miserable than bond-slaves ; for commonly the bond- 
 slave," says he, " is fed by his lord, but here the lord was fed 
 by his bond-slave." 
 
 Although often agitated in former periods, it would now be 
 equally vain and unprofitable to inquire whether Ireland yield- 
 ed by treaty, or was overcome by the sword 1 The fact is that 
 the natives were treated like a conquered people, and denied a 
 participation in the English laws. Stigmatized as helots, even 
 intermarriage was deemed a capital crime, and their murder 
 has been more than once adjudged to be no felony. Amidst 
 such cruel and impolitic restraints, it was not to be expected 
 that the people would emerge from barbarity ; on the contrary, 
 they were rendered discontented and ferocious by oppression, 
 and three successive national insurrections, the fruits of a false 
 and perfidious policy, prove better than any testimony, however 
 strong, that their servitude was equally galling and ungrateful. 
 All the bitterness of religious intolerance, in consequence of 
 the Reformation, was superadded to civil disabilities ; and a 
 
384 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 black catalogue of penal statutes exposed the unhappy Catho- 
 lics to a variety of fines, mulcts, and disfranchisements, from 
 which the more fortunate and less numerous Protestants were 
 of course exempt. 
 
 At length, towards 'the close of the American war, the spirit 
 and loyalty of an oppressed nation procured a melioration of 
 its condition, and a milder and more liberal system began to be 
 adopted ; but this only extended at first to commercial and par- 
 liamentary independence; for even ther^ those of the Romish 
 faith, constituting an immense majority in point of numbers, 
 but far inferior in respect to wealth, remained utterly bereft 
 of thfir elective franchises, and subject to a variety of disad- 
 vantages. 
 
 In the course of a few years more,* the exercise of many of 
 the social rights was restored to them ; and a prospect of full 
 redress opened on the commencement of a war, which, instead 
 of relieving, has entailed infinite misery upon Ireland. Yet 
 something essential was achieved,! in favor of the bulk of the 
 nation, and the glimpse of complete emancipation was held out 
 by a popular nobleman,! in consequence of which supplies 
 were voted with equal promptitude and liberality. 
 
 The sudden recall of the new viceroy, and the denial of the 
 promised boon, unhappily became the signal for a civil war ; 
 and those who had hitherto confined themselves to constitutional 
 remedies alone, now determined to recur to the sword. Many 
 of the societies formed for the purpose of obtaining a redress 
 of grievances and a parliamentary reform, were perverted to 
 the purposes of insurrection ; while a new one, under the title 
 of " United Irishmen," received all who were disaffected, after 
 pledging their fidelity by the solemnity of an oath. A system 
 of representation, founded on the customs of our Saxon ances- 
 tors, and adopted by the venerable Alfred, was prepared, form- 
 ed and completed, by the labors of an aspiring individual, [J with 
 a mystery equal, and an effect still more general, than the secret 
 tribunals which at one period kept a large portion of Germany 
 
 * In 1792 the Irish Catholics were permitted by act of parliament, 1. To 
 
 Practice as barristers and attorneys; 2. To intermarry with Protestants ; 3. 
 'o educate youth, in the capacity of school masters, without obtaining a 
 license from an ordinary of the church of England; and 4. To send their 
 children abroad for instruction. 
 
 t In consequence of a recommendation from the throne, in January, 1793, 
 many other restrictive laws were repealed ; but Catholics were still prohibit- 
 ed from sitting in parliament, or enjoying any of the great offices of state. 
 X EarlFitzvvilliam, then lord-lieutenant. 
 
 II Theobald Wolte Tone, a Protestant, educated at Trinity College, Dublin 
 and a barrister, practicing in the courts of law 
 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 385 
 
 in awe. By an ascending- scale of representation, from decen- 
 naries and hundreds, to baronies, provinces, and at length to 
 the whole kingdom, such an interchange of opinions took place, 
 and such a force was prepared, as had never before been wit- 
 nessed in modern times, in the face of an existing government. 
 
 At the head of the whole presided a directory of five,* pos- 
 sessing unDounaed influence over all, but known only to a few; 
 the members consisted partly of Catholics, and partly of Pro- 
 testants ; some of them had been in parliament, and were either 
 sprung from, or connected with, the first families of the king- 
 dom, and they were all noted for their abilities. These dazzled 
 with the success of America and France, and warmed with the 
 *heoiies of the day, conceived the romantic idea of shaking off 
 all dependence upon England, converting the monarchy into a 
 republic, and effecting a complete toleration in respect to re- 
 ligion ; but neither the state of the country nor of the people 
 was calculated for such a change. It was determined, how- 
 ever, to attempt it ; and the executive, which had its ambassa- 
 dor at Paris, and whose diplomatic agents were supposed to 
 have some influence on the late negotiations of Lisle, was at 
 length resolved to try its strength with the established govern- 
 ment, aided by all the wealth and all the power of Great Brit- 
 ain. So conscious, indeed, were the members of their own 
 power, and so much did they dread the influence of foreign 
 domination, that they expressly stipulated with their ally on the 
 continent, for a certain limited assistance only. 
 
 But, fortunately for England, their schemes were completely 
 blasted, by the treachery of a subordinate agent, the nominal 
 treasurer of a county, and a colonel of the insurgents. In con- 
 sequence of his information, fourteen delegates and three mem- 
 bers of the directory were arrested ; a fourth soon after died of 
 the wounds which he received in his own defense, and the 
 whole plot was at length completely developed. New direct- 
 ors were indeed nominated, but a new discovery not only re- 
 vealed their names and intentions, but consigned two of them 
 to death. 
 
 In the mean time, government had recourse to measures 
 which subjected some of its members to censure ; and the army 
 itself appears to have acted, according to the manly confession 
 
 * Lord Edward Fitzgerald, brother to the Duke of Leicester 5 Mr. Arthur 
 O'Conner, nephew of Lord Longueville, descended from Rodenc O'Conner, 
 king of Connaught ; Mr. Oliver Bond, a respectable manufacturer of Dublin ; 
 Mr. Emmet, a barrister of considerable eloquence ; and Dr. McNeven, a phy- 
 sician, and a man of great talents, who acted for some time as the secretary* 
 general to the executive. 
 
 33 
 
386 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 of the commander-in-chief, with an indefensible degree of 
 severity. By a law lately passed, the viceroy was enabled lo 
 proclaim certain districts out of the king's peace; but Lord Cam- 
 den deemed it proper, on his own authority, not only to put 
 forage and provisions in requisition, but also to supersede the 
 ordinary tribunals of justice, and issue orders for the trial of 
 civil offenses by means of courts martial. 
 
 The remaining leaders, who had determined on a general in- 
 surrection, particularly in the province of Leinster, and not 
 only fixed on a day for that purpose, but meditated an attack on 
 the camp of Loughlinstown, the park of artillery at Chapeli- 
 zod, and even the castle of Dublin at the same time, were thus 
 anticipated in their daring attempt, while the capital was sub- 
 jected to military jurisdiction, and the most efficacious measures 
 adopted for its preservation. 
 
 But although many of the chiefs had been secured, and those 
 not as yet arrested were overwhelmed with dismay, a partial 
 revolt actually took place, on the day subsequent to that fixed 
 upon for a general insurrection; of which the stoppage of the 
 mail-coaches was to be the signal. An assault was made by a 
 half-armed rabble on the town and jail of Naas ; but as their 
 scheme had been discovered, they were instantly repulsed by a 
 body of the military, about one hundred and forty killed on the 
 spot, and three of the leaders executed. A more numerous 
 party was defeated by General Dundas, near Kilcullen ; and on 
 the preceding day, a small detachment, consisting of between 
 four and five hundred, which had ventured to advance as far as 
 Rathfamham, was dispersed by only thirty-five dragoons under 
 Lord Raden, many being put to death in their flight ; but two 
 of their chiefs were reserved for public execution. 
 
 These feeble and unconnected attempts were not counte- 
 nanced by a general rising ; for Ulster, in which province- 
 alone one hundred and fifty thousand united Irishmen are said 
 to have been enrolled and mustered, in consequence of the un 
 promising state of affairs, wisely declined the contest, and the 
 progress of the rebellion, unsanctioned even by the formality 
 of a manifesto, had hitherto resembled the capricious freaks of 
 a discontented mob, rather than the united efforts of a large 
 portion of the nation. 
 
 But the agitators had succeeded in implanting certain prin- 
 ciples in the minds of the common people ; and these appear tc 
 have struck their roots into a congenial soil ; for although one 
 attempt on Carlo w and another on Kildare failed, while a still 
 more formidable commotion at Tallagh-hill was suppressed. 
 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 387 
 
 vet the inhabitants of the counties of Wicklow and Wexford, 
 being taught to expect immediate assistance from France, ran 
 to arms, and experienced a transitory but delusive success. 
 
 Father John Murphy, who had received the degree of doctor 
 of divinity in Spain, and at this period officiated as priest in the 
 barony of Gorey and parish of Kilcormic, appears to have been 
 the first to recur to arms in this quarter. He collected his 
 forces by lighting a fire on a hill, called Corrigrua, which was 
 answered by a similar signal on an eminence contiguous to his 
 own house at Boolavogue. After disarming the Protestants and 
 burning their houses, a savage mode of warfare but too often 
 perpetrated by both sides on their enemies, they repaired *o 
 the village of Oulart, near Kilmiclo idge ; and as their num- 
 bers had now increased to about fourteen thousand, armed 
 chiefly with pikes, they began to acquire confidence. 
 
 In the mean time, part of the troops in Wexford, on hearing 
 of the atrocities committed in their neighborhood, determined 
 to march against and disperse the insurgents. Accordingly, 
 a detachment of the North Cork, consisting of one hundred 
 and nine picked men, under Lieutenant-colonel Foote, with 
 some of Colonel Lehunte's yeoman cavalry, marched against 
 the rebels then posted on the side of Oulart-hill. The attack at 
 first proved successful, and the apparent trepidation of the 
 enemy encouraged the assailants to climb the eminence in pur- 
 suit of the fugitives ; but on their approach they not only found 
 the hedges lined with musketry, but their flanks turned ; so 
 completely indeed was the defeat, that the whole party was cut 
 to pieces, the commanding officer, who was wounded by a pike 
 in the breast and arms, a sergeant, and three privates excepted. 
 
 On the succeeding day Dr. Murphy issued circular notices 
 written in red ink, commanding all persons capable of bearing 
 arms to join him immediately, for the purpose of attacking En- 
 niscorthy ; and such was the reputation he had acquired by his 
 late victory, that great numbers flocked to his standard. Hav- 
 ing said mass on Ballyorle-hill, and set fire to some houses in 
 the neighborhood, their leader immediately marshaled about 
 six thousand of his followers, and they were soon after seen on 
 the Newtown-barry road, formed into an immense column, 
 which extended a mile in length ; another body, posted on an 
 adjoining eminence, advanced at the same time on the opposite 
 side, and endeavored to throw the troops into disorder by means 
 of a stratagem. They were gallantly and successfully opposed 
 for a considerable time, by about three hundred and forty men 
 who occupied the principal outlets ; but as a number of disaf 
 
388 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 fecied persons were supposed to be in the place, and this small 
 force was incompetent to a prolonged defense, it was determin- 
 ed to evacuate it. No sooner had this been effected, than it 
 was taken possession of by the enemy, who formed a camp on 
 Vinegar-hill early next morning, threw up intrenchments, 
 erected batteries, and regulated all military affairs by means of 
 a committee of twelve, four of which were priests. 
 
 The peasantry now flocked thither in such numbers, that 
 the main body soon consisted of ten thousand men. Sentinels, 
 videttes, and picquet guards, were posted around, and all the 
 appearance of regular troops affected ; but it was easy to per- 
 ceive, that the majority were utterly unacquainted with the use of 
 arms, while the motley appearance of the tents, consisting chiefly 
 of quilts, blankets, and carpets, gave a grotesque and ridiculous 
 appearance to the whole. Nor did they fail to imitate the army 
 in other points of views ; for having converted the ruins of a 
 w r ind-mill into a jail, they collected prisoners, and having tried 
 them by the summary jurisdiction of a court-martial, several 
 of the unhappy victims were occasionally shot or piked in the 
 front of the rebel line. Several Protestant women, also, who 
 fell into the hands of their scouts and foraging parties, were not 
 only treated with barbarity, but subjected to violation. To the 
 credit, however, of one of the leaders, called General Sutton, he 
 made use of his authority to restrain such atrocious conduct. 
 
 To inure their followers to military exploits, irruptions 
 were made in various directions. One body of insurgents, 
 under the direction of Father Kearns, a priest, seized on the 
 town of B orris, and burnt all the houses belonging to the yeo- 
 men ; but the assailants were repulsed in an attack on the 
 mansion house, notwithstanding they had provided themselves 
 with a howitzer. About this time, also, they formed a camp 
 on the hill of Forth, commonly called the Three Rock Moun- 
 tain, and on this the detachment marched in procession from 
 Enniscorthy, headed by Father John Murphy, with a large cru- 
 cifix in his arms. In the course of a few days, they were for- 
 tunate enough to surprise part of the Meath regiment and a de- 
 tachment of the royal artillery with two howitzers; while Major- 
 general Fawcet, who had marched with eighty of the thirteenth 
 regiment and a small number of militia, for the purpose of sup- 
 porting those troops, on hearing of their defeat was reluctantly 
 obliged to return to Duncannon fort. 
 
 On the same day, Lieutenant-colonel Maxwell, on being in- 
 armed of these events, advanced against the enemy with two 
 hundred of the Donegal regiment, and about one hundred and 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 389 
 
 fifty yeoman cavalry; but he soon found himself and party an- 
 noyed by means of a heavy fire from behind rocks, hedges, anci 
 houses. The howitzers, also, which had been taken in the 
 morning-, were brought into action, and some of the matrosses, 
 who had been saved expressly for that purpose, were forced, 
 by the terror of the pike, to point them at their fellow-soldiers. 
 They at the same time drove a number of horses along the 
 road, for the purpose of embarrassing the troops ; and the strata- 
 gem, which failed on another occasion, proved successful here ; 
 for the cavalry, being pent up in a defile, and unable to act, 
 wheeled round from the galling fire, and retired. On perceiv- 
 ing this, the insurgents rushed down from the mountain, on 
 purpose to cut off the retreat of the infantry, which they would 
 have effected, had it not been for the resolute conduct of the 
 Donegal regiment, which repulsed them by means of a few 
 well directed volleys of musketry, and then fell back on Wex- 
 ford. 
 
 That town, seated at the mouth of the Slaney, at no great dis- 
 tance from the camp at Vinegar-hill, and only three miles from 
 their position on the Forth mountain, became the next object 
 against which the insurgents determined to direct their opera- 
 tions. The successful result of the late skirmishes, the acqui- 
 sition of two pieces of artillery, together with the possession of 
 a large quantity of arms, and ammunition, tended to increase 
 their audacity and their numbers ; while the spirit of fanaticism 
 was kept alive among the ignorant multitude by means of masses 
 and ghostly exhortations, the faith of some of them is reported 
 to have been raised to such a ridiculous excess, as actually to 
 believe that the balls of the heretics could make no impression 
 upon a true believer. 
 
 While they were meditating an assault on Wexford, Lieuten- 
 ant-colonel Maxwell determined to evacuate the place, and a 
 deputation from such of the inhabitants as chose to remain ar- 
 rived at the Three Rock Mountain, where the rebels had in- 
 creased to ten thousand, on purpose to announce that a white 
 flag, in token of submission, had been hoisted on the town- 
 house. 
 
 A column was accordingly put in motion under General 
 Roche, lately a sergeant in the yeoman cavalry ; and Mr, 
 Keugh, who had risen from the humble station of private to the 
 rank of Captain-lieutenant in the sixty-fifth regiment, during 
 the American war, was nominated governor by acclamation. 
 On entering the place, the insurgents immediately liberated all 
 the prisoners confined in the jail, and soon after nominated one 
 
 33* 
 
3V)U HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 of them, Mr. Beauchamp Bagenal Harvey, a Protestant gentle- 
 man of considerable fortune, commander-in-chief of the United 
 army of the county of Wexford. 
 
 Flushed with a series of uninterrupted successes, they now 
 marshaled their forces, and determined on achieving still great- 
 er enterprises. For this purpose they formed their army into 
 three divisions ; one, under the command of a Protestant chief, 
 to whom was assigned the reverend Father Philip Roche, of 
 Poulprarsy, in the parish of Killan, as a coadjutor, received 
 orders to encamp on Carrickbyrne-hill, for the purpose of at- 
 tacking the town of New-Ross ; a second, under Captains 
 Doyle and Redmond, was to proceed from Vinegar-hill, and 
 seize on Newtown-barry., situated in a defile surrounded by high 
 and steep mountains, which would not only give them the com- 
 mand of the Slaney, but open a communication with their asso- 
 ciates in the counties of Carlow and Kildare ; the third led by 
 a person denominated General Perry, accompanied by Father 
 Michael Murphy, of Ballycanoe, and Father John Murphy, of 
 Boolavogue, was destined to attack Gorey ; and such was their 
 confidence, that, after seizing on these places, it was determined 
 to advance with this victorious column against the capital, 
 where their partisans were numerous, intelligent and indefa- 
 tigable. 
 
 But, after the capture of Wexford, they were fated to expe 
 rience a number of signal defeats; and as their operations 
 were equally deficient in method and concert, and they had 
 hitherto proved successful from numbers and accident alone, so 
 they were of course dissipated on the first appearance of an 
 effective opposition. 
 
 After obtaining possession of Newtown-barry, the assailants 
 were driven out with great slaughter, by a small body of yeo- 
 men. They were also foiled, about the same time, in an attack 
 upon Gorey ; but a large body, posted on Ballymore-hill, suc- 
 ceeded in defeating Colonel Walpole, who, despising such das- 
 tardly adversaries, advanced to the attack without the usual 
 military precautions, and fell into an ambuscade at Tubberneer- 
 ing. After having lost their commander, who, by being dress- 
 ed in full uniform, and mounted on a tall gray horse, became 
 a conspicuous object for the enemy's marksmen, the troops, who 
 were raw and inexperienced, at length retreated in confusion. 
 Two six pounders and a howitzer, seized upon this occasion 
 being turned against them, the rout would have been complete 
 \\it for the good conduct of Colonel Cope, of the Antrim mili 
 tia. This officer rallied and formed his remaining forces or. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 39. 
 
 the road, so as to impede the progress of the rebels who now 
 charged in their turn, and at length entered Gorey in pursuit 
 of the fugitives. Arklow also was evacuated ; and it was with 
 some difficulty that General Loftus, who had advanced to sup- 
 port Colonel Walpole, found means to escape with his feeble 
 detachment across Slievebuoy mountain. 
 
 In the mean time an immense number of insurgents, posted 
 on Carrickbyrne-hill, within six miles of Ross, determined on 
 the capture of that place, which, by its commanding situation, 
 was calculated to increase their power and influence. They 
 accordingly approached it, and as an opportunity had not yet 
 occurred to divide them into companies and regiments, they 
 were formed under the more familiar denominations of parishes 
 and baronies. During their march, they halted for some time 
 at a chapel, where mass was said at the head of each column 
 by their priests, who also sprinkled an abundance of holy water. 
 They then repaired to Corbet-hill, an eminence about a mile 
 and a half from Ross, and formed on its summit with some 
 appearance of regularity. 
 
 But the capture of this town was an object of considerable 
 difficulty, as the garrison consisted of twelve hundred effective 
 men, besides one hundred and fifty yeomen, commanded by 
 Major General Johnson. The troops, who had been for some 
 time prepared for the attack, were also judiciously stationed; 
 the infantry and artillery having been posted in a line on the 
 east and south sides of the town, with the cavalry on the quay, 
 and the volunteers at the bridge. 
 
 About five o'clock in the morning, 30,000 insurgents ad- 
 vanced against the town in an irregular manner, uttering hide- 
 ous yells ; about one-fourth were armed with muskets, and the 
 remainder with pikes ; they were provided with four small field- 
 pieces and a few swivels, while their fanaticism was aroused 
 and their valor excited by priests, clad in vestments and carry- 
 ing crucifixes, who moved slowly through the ranks, and ad- 
 ministered divine consolation. 
 
 One of the crowd, waving a white handkerchief in his hand, 
 preceded the rest ; on being shot by the sentinels, it was dis- 
 covered that he had brought a letter from Mr. Harvey, the 
 newly-elected general, dated at the camp of Corbet-hill, sum- 
 moning the commanding officer to deliver up the place to the 
 forces assembled against it. " Flushed with victories," says he, 
 " the Wexford forces, innumerable and irresistible, will not be 
 controlled, if they meet with opposition ; to prevent, therefore, 
 the total ruin of all property in the town, I arge you to 8 
 
392 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 speedy surrender, which you will be forced to in a r ew hours 
 with loss and bloodshed, as you are surrounded on all sides." 
 
 Having marched up to the place with great resolution, they 
 drove in the advanced guard, took possession of the alarm posts, 
 and made use of one of the pieces of artillery which they had 
 taken at the Three Rocks, by means of a matross, who was 
 not only tied to prevent him from running away, but excited to 
 the performance of his duty by one of the revolters, who on 
 perceiving the elevation to be too great, is reported to have 
 drawn a pistol from his belt and shot him on the spot. The 
 first onset was furious, but they were repulsed at the Three-Bul- 
 let-gate, and charged by a detachment of the fifth dragoons ; 
 they however rallied soon after, and seized on a piece of artil- 
 lery, which they immediately turned against the troops. After 
 this they entered the town, and notwithstanding cannon were 
 planted at the cross lanes, so as to sweep the streets as they ad- 
 vanced, yet such was the weight and impetuosity of the column 
 formed by the assailants, that the main body of the garrison, 
 overpowered by numbers, and intimidated also perhaps by the 
 late success of the rebels at Enniscorthy, the Three Rocks, 
 Wexford, and Tubberneering, fled over the bridge with great 
 precipitation to the Kilkenny side of the river. 
 
 Fortunately, however, the place was soon after re-captured 
 by the gallantry of the commanding officer who had served 
 during the war on the Transatlantic continent. . Indignant at 
 beholding the success of the revolters and the sudden panic of 
 his own troops, General Johnson rode up to the fugitives and 
 demanded if they meant to forsake their leader, and their coun- 
 tryman? Being received with three cheers, he placed himself 
 at their head, advanced towards the Three-Bullet-gate, where 
 a post was still maintained by the English, and recurring to 
 one of the least culpable stratagems of war, he confidently as- 
 sured the soldiers stationed there that he had brought a rein- 
 forcement from Water ford. Having thus re-animated them by 
 the joyful intelligence, he advanced against and dispersed a 
 column of the enemy ; and that nothing might be wanting to 
 secure the fortune of the day, he contrived to turn their rear, 
 at the same time manning the trenches on the outside so as to 
 prevent the arrival of a reinforcement. 
 
 The assailants, who had not improved their first advantage, 
 but consumed that time in drunkenness and devastation, which 
 they ought to have employed in securing their victory, were now 
 dispersed and overcome ; and as raw troops can never be rallied, 
 ihey retreated with the utmost speed, first to Corbet and then to 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 393 
 
 Can lckbyme-h ills, leaving- two thousand six hundred dead be 
 hind tk*m. Nor was this signal success obtained by their ad- 
 versaries without bloodshed, for Lord Mountjoy, colonel of the 
 Dublin mnitia, fell in the first onset ; one ensign, four sergeants, 
 and eighty-lt«-ir men, were killed, and one captain and fifty- 
 seven men wounded. 
 
 On the very daj 'nat this engagement took place, some of the 
 insurgents hearing oi* the success of the king's troops, perpetrated 
 a most shocking massaoro on several prisoners whom they had 
 confined at Scullabogue ; in endeavor has been made to throw 
 the whole of the odium of vhis transaction on one of the priests, 
 but certain it is, that a layman of the name of Murphy, who com- 
 manded there, refused to sanction the atrocity, and turned away 
 with horror from the disgusting tscene, which he was unable to 
 prevent ; he however had still influence sufficient to rescue a 
 woman from death, by observing, ''that such a horrid deed 
 would kindle a blush on the cheeks of the Virgin Mary ;" nor 
 ought it to be omitted here, that the bodies of the unhappy suf- 
 ferers were buried by a subscription on the part of the principal 
 leaders. 
 
 The ill success of the attack on Ross put a period to the short- 
 lived power of the general-in-chief, who was immediately de- 
 posed from his military command, and appointed to a civil em- 
 ployment, having been nominated president of the council of 
 Wexford; but this gentleman, whose feelings and education 
 wholly disqualified him from taking any share in the excesses 
 that had recently taken place, was by this time ashamed of the 
 misconduct of a peasantry fanaticized to madness and familiar 
 with every species of crime. The lay commanders, after this 
 period, no longer appear to have enjoyed the confidence of the 
 multitude, for we now find Father Roche presiding in the camp 
 on Lacken hill, and calling on the inhabitants of the adjacent 
 parishes to repair to his standard, by requisitions addressed to 
 the Catholic clergy. Father Michael Murphy at the same time 
 acted in the capacity of general at Gorey ; and as his troops had 
 hitherto been successful, and were still flushed with their recent 
 victory at Tubberneering, he meditated a great and important 
 attempt. Undismayed by the late signal defeat at Ross, he de- 
 termined on marching against Arklow, although at this time 
 defended by a strong garrison ; after the capture of which, he is 
 said to have intended to advance against the capital itself, wisely 
 judging that the possession of Dublin would in some measure 
 decide the fate of the whole kingdom. Nor ought it to be for- 
 gotten, that the metropolis was at this period in a state of con- 
 
894 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 sternation, for the vice-queen, (Lady Camden,) and many ladies 
 of distinction, had fled to England, and there the disaffected were 
 both resolute and numerous. 
 
 Although General Need ham now occupied Arklow with about 
 one thousand five hundred troops, consisting of dragoons, militia, 
 fencibles, and yeomanry, the insurgents advanced boldly against 
 it. They, however, did not commence their march until the 
 morning was pretty far advanced ; and it was four o'clock in 
 the afternoon before they were perceived, formed in two immense 
 columns, so as to attack the town in the upper and lower ex- 
 tremities at the same time. In addition to their numbers, which 
 have been estimated at about twenty thousand, they were sup- 
 ported by two six pounders, formerly taken from the regulars, 
 neither injudiciously posted nor ill served, and preceded by an 
 advanced guard, composed of horse and foot. All their motions 
 were evidently intended to out-flank and overpower the garri- 
 son, who were formed behind a barricade, strengthened with 
 artillery. 
 
 The attack, which continued for upwards of two hours, was 
 as usual fierce ; but the steady countenance and incessant fire of 
 the troops, together with the destruction occasioned by the can- 
 non, rendered all their efforts abortive, and they were never able 
 to penetrate into the place. One body was soon defeated and 
 charged by the cavalry under Colonel Sir W. W. Wynne, who 
 appears to have given no quarter; but the other, which had ad- 
 vanced on the side of the charter-school, and was led by Father 
 Michael Murphy, the priest of Ballycanoe, made a number of 
 successive but abortive attacks on a barricade, whence they were 
 driven by incessant volleys of musketry and grape. At length 
 this ecclesiastic, after haranguing his followers, advanced with a 
 standard on which a cross had been emblazoned, but he was 
 soon after killed by a cannon shot; on this his troops instantly 
 dispersed, and retreated about eight o'clock at night towards 
 Coolgreney, in a disorderly manner. They found means how- 
 ever to occupy a formidable station at Limeric-hill, which they 
 evacuated on the approach of the Generals Dundas and Loftus. 
 But notwithstanding their reiterated miscarriages, a numerous 
 body to the amount of twenty thousand, posted on the heights on 
 the banks of the Slaney, called Vinegar-hill, still assumed the 
 appearance of an army, and continued to sustain a drooping 
 cause ; luckily this impcrtant station was not fortified by heavy 
 artillery, nor strengthened by redoubts on the flanks, nor de- 
 fended by skill. Against these General Lake, after collecting 
 various detachments, determined to march, and he was fortunate 
 
Scene in the Irish Rebellion of 179S. — Page 391. 
 
 iiftfek 
 
 Kuck of Gibraltar.— -Page 399. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 395 
 
 enough to be joined by the loyal Cheshire, who landed from 
 England two days previous to the battle. The mode of attack 
 adopted upon this occasion, was well calculated to terrify new 
 levies, always diffident of themselves, and afraid of being sur- 
 rounded. The troops being divided into four distinct columns ; 
 advanced against the insurgents under the Generals Dundas, 
 Eustace, Dun\ and Loftus. A fifth, under General Johnson, 
 having carried the town of Enniscorthy, situated at the base of 
 the hill, the heights were scaled in different directions, so as to 
 menace the front and flanks at the same time. But, notwith- 
 standing these formidable preparations, the revolters were ena- 
 bled, from the natural strength of their position, to defend their 
 lines during an hour and a half, and it was not until they were 
 outflanked and nearly surrounded, that they at length gave way, 
 leaving behind them thirteen light field-pieces. As civil are 
 always more bloody than foreign wars, the slaughter was im- 
 mense, for no quarter seems to have been given upon this occa- 
 sion, as those who escaped the musket, when overtaken, perished 
 by the merciless bayonet, while so insignificant was the loss on 
 the part of the king's troops, that not above one hundred were 
 either killed or wounded. 
 
 The only person of any note who fell on either side upon this 
 occasion, was Father Clinch, a priest of Enniscorthy, who was 
 singled out pn account of his large white horse, huge cimeter, 
 and broad cross-belts ; and the action itself was less bloody than 
 could have been well supposed, as the troops under General 
 Needham were unable to reach the position assigned them, and 
 General Lake could not be prevailed upon to defer the combat 
 until the succeeding day. In consequence of these events, an 
 immense column retreated by the east side of the Slaney ; part 
 entered Wexford, where many horrid murders were committed 
 on the bridge ; while another and more numerous detachment, 
 headed by two priests of the name of Murphy, and a third called 
 Roche, reached the Three Rocks, and having held a council of 
 war there, marched across the mountains to the county of Kil- 
 kenny. 
 
 However, the battle, or rather skirmish, of Vinegar-hill, not 
 only occasioned the dispersion of those who survived the pursuit, 
 but proved fatal to their cause. 
 
 An ineffectual attempt was immediately made by the pretended 
 governor of Wexford, to obtain a capitulation ; yet, as the offer 
 of pardon to the garrison was accompanied with a stipulation 
 that the chiefs should be delivered jp, the insurgents, preferring 
 the chance of deatii to the baseness of treachery, evacuated the 
 28 
 
89b HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 town, which was immediately occupied by Major-general Moore, 
 to the no small joy of the remaining inhabitants. 
 
 In the mean time, the body of rebels which had retreated from 
 Vinegar-hill and penetrated into the county of Kilkenny by the 
 Scullagh Gap, burned the village of Kil Edmond, and proceeded 
 to Goresbridge, under the command of Father John Murphy, of 
 Boolavogue. Having advanced in column, they were opposed 
 by Lieutenant Dixon, who was posted there with a party chiefly 
 composed of dragoons; but he was obliged to retreat, as they 
 had brought a swivel and several pieces of cannon to bear on 
 the post, which he in vain endeavored to maintain against such 
 a multitude of assailants. But their success was of short dura- 
 tion, for they were pursued by General Dunn and Sir Charle? 
 Asgill, and having made a stand at Kilcomney-hill, experienced 
 a complete defeat. Murphy, the commander-in-chief, who fled 
 from the field of battle, was taken soon after, and being conducted 
 to the head quarters of General Sir James Duff) at Tullow, wa? 
 hanged the same day. After this, the body of that sanguinary 
 priest was burnt, and his head, with indiscreet zeal, placed on 
 the market-house — a savage and horrid custom, tending little to 
 intimidate, but admirably calculated to render a disaffected peo- 
 ple more savage and ferocious, by making them familiar with 
 barbarity, and accustoming them to the violation of the rights of 
 sepulture. 
 
 A body of insurgents, who assembled soon after at White- 
 heaps, was dispersed by General Needham, assisted by General 
 Duff and the Marquis of Huntly, the last of whom acquired 
 great credit during his residence in Ireland, by uniting humanity 
 with courage, and compassionating the failings of a deluded 
 multitude, at the same time that he rendered their fury ineffectual. 
 
 The spirit of rebellion in the south, which assumed all the 
 appearance of a war of religion, was now completely subdued j 
 and in the north it never exhibited a very formidable shape, for 
 the disaffected Protestants in that quarter, shocked at the enor- 
 mities perpetrated, the intolerance displayed, and the pretended 
 miracles wrought by two Popish priests, determined to resist the 
 seduction. They indeed found means to keep possession of 
 Antrim for a few days ; however, on being attacked with cannon 
 And musketry, they were driven out of that place, but not until 
 Lord O' Neil, who commanded a regiment of Irish militia, had 
 fallen. They were also repulsed in an ill-concerted attack on 
 Carrickfergus, at Ballynahinch, where they had determined to 
 make a stand under Munroe, although they could not muster 
 more than six thousand men ; they received a total overthrow, 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 897 
 
 »nd the insurrection was completely quelled : notwithstanding, a 
 few of the stragglers assembled in some force, first at Ardee 
 and then at Garret's Town. 
 
 In the mean time, courts martial were held on all the leaders. 
 Mr. B. Harvey, whose influence had been superseded after the 
 battle of Ross, by that of Father Murphy, the priest, and who had 
 seized the first opportunity of abandoning men inflamed into 
 habitual cruelty by those who ought to have preached the lan- 
 guage of Christian charity, was surprised in a cave on one of 
 the rocks that form the harbor of Wexford, and hanged on the 
 bridge of that town. Although this sentence was enforced by a 
 court of a very equivocal kind, the jurisdiction of which is not 
 recognized by the law, such was the relentless spirit of the 
 times, that his heirs were bereaved of his large property ; and as 
 this could not be done in the usual course of justice, a post-facto 
 act was obtained for that purpose. 
 
 It is greatly to be lamented, that a trial by jury was denied to 
 such as were supposed to have dipped their hands in blood 01 
 forfeited their lives by rebellion : as it would surely have been 
 at once more dignified and more legitimate, to have convicted 
 the offenders according to the usual mode, and not have imitated 
 the example of the French during the Vendean war, by the con- 
 version of military tribunals into courts that were to decide on 
 the lives of men, some of whom had not even been accused of 
 appearing in arms. But posterity will learn with horror, that 
 torture was in some instances recurred to by individuals on pur- 
 pose to extort confessions of guilt; and what is still more shock- 
 ing, that this barbarous and inhuman custom was not only per- 
 mitted, but is said to have been palliated, by men of high authority. 
 
 Luckily for the happiness of Ireland and the honor of Great 
 Britain, a more generous policy soon after prevailed ; for Lord 
 Cornwallis, although bred to arms from his youth, yet detesting 
 schemes of vengeance and proscription, after making some pub- 
 lic examples, put an end to the scene of blood. In the course of 
 a few days subsequently to his arrival, he informed the House 
 of Commons, by a message, of " his Majesty's orders to acquaint 
 them, that he had signified his gracious intention of granting a 
 general pardon for all offences committed previously to a certain 
 time, upon such conditions and with such exceptions as might 
 be compatible with the public safety ;" and it was added, " that 
 -hese offers of mercy were not to preclude measures of vigor 
 against the obstinate." 
 
 His lordship accordingly, while he held out the immediate 
 prospect of pardon and forgiveness to the ignorant rabble, was 
 
 S4 
 
398 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 determined to bring several of the principal chiefs to trial ; but 
 he did not recur to the invidious mode of impanneling military 
 men, unacquainted with the rules of evidence and the forms of 
 justice, who, after bravely overcoming the enemy with their 
 sword, were afterwards to supersede the laws by sitting in judg- 
 ment upon them and their followers ; on the contrary, he issued 
 orders for a special commission, and the culprits were arraigned, 
 convicted, and condemned, by competent tribunals, with a so- 
 lemnity suitable to the occasion. 
 
 A few suffered ; and as the insurrection was now completely 
 crushed, and public justice fully vindicated, both mercy and 
 policy caLed aloud for pardon and oblivion. 
 
 AN ACCOUNT OF GIBRALTAR. 
 [From a recent European Publication.] 
 
 The remarkable circumstance of such a position, one of the 
 keys to a great kingdom, being held in permanent possession by 
 a foreign nation, would alone confer no little interest upon 
 Gibraltar. That promontory, besides its admirable advantages 
 as a place of strength, may be said, owing to the narrowness of 
 the strait upon which it juts out, to command, not merely the 
 corner of Andalusia immediately under it, but the whole of the 
 western coast of Spain, comprising nearly two thirds of the 
 whole maritime circumference of that country. It effectually 
 cuts off all communication by sea between that part of Spain 
 which is bounded by the Mediterranean, and those parts which 
 are bounded by the Atlantic. It disables that power as much 
 as England would be disabled by another nation having the 
 ability to hinder a ship passing from Liverpool, or Belfast, or 
 Dublin, or Cork, or Plymouth, to Leith, or Hull, or London. 
 
 It appears, however, to have been late before the importance 
 of this rock was discovered. The ancients had a fable that Eu- 
 rope and Africa were originally joined at this point, and that the 
 two continents were riven asunder by Hercules, and a passage 
 thereby opened between the Atlantic and the Mediterranean. 
 Gibraltar, under the name of Calpe, and Mount Abyla, opposite 
 to it, on the African coast, were called the Pillars of Hercules, 
 and appear to have been in very early ages regarded by the 
 people dwelling to the east of them, including the Carthagenians, 
 he Greeks, and the Romans, as the western boundary of the 
 •vorld. It was probably long before navigation penetrated beyond 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 399 
 
 this limit. Even in aftertimes, however, when Spain became well 
 known to the Romans, and a province of their empire, we do not 
 read of any fort being erected on the rock of Calpe. It is doubt- 
 ful if it was even in the site of a town. No Roman antiqui- 
 ties have ever been found on the spot or in the neighborhood. 
 
 The place appears to have been first seized upon and conven- 
 ed into a military station by the Moors when they invaded Spain 
 in the beginning of the eighth century. From their leader, 
 Tarif, it was in consequence called Gibel-Tarif, or the mountain 
 of Tarif, of which Arabic name Gibraltar is a corruption. Soon 
 after establishing themselves here, the Moors erected a lofty and 
 extensive castle on the north-west side of the mountain, the ruins 
 of which still remain. Gibraltar continued in the possession of 
 the Moors for between seven and eight centuries, with the ex- 
 ception of about thirty years, during which it was held by the 
 Christians, having been taken soon after the commencement of 
 the fourteenth century by Ferdinand, king of Castile. It was 
 recovered, however, in 1333, by Abomeleh, the son of the em- 
 peror of Fez, and the Moors were not finally dispossessed of it till 
 the middle of the following century. After that it remained a 
 part of the kingdom of Spain, down nearly to our times. 
 
 The promontory of Gibraltar, forms the south-western extre- 
 mity of Andalusia, running out into the sea in nearly a due 
 south direction, for about three miles. The greater part of this 
 tongue consists of a very lofty rock. It rises abruptly from the 
 land to the height of fully 1300 feet, presenting a face almost 
 perfectly perpendicular, and being consequently from that, its 
 northern extremity, completely inaccessible. The west side, 
 however, and the southern extremity, consist, each of a series of 
 precipices or declivities, which admit of being ascended. The 
 town, now containing a population of above 17,000 persons, is 
 built on the west side. Along the summit of the mountain, 
 from north to south, runs a bristling ridge of rocks, forming a 
 ragged and undulating line against the sky, when viewed from 
 east to west. The whole of the western breast of the promon- 
 tory is nearly covered with fortifications. Anciently, it is said, 
 it used to be well wooded in many places; but there are now 
 very few trees to be seen, although a good many gardens are 
 scattered up and down both in the town and among the fortifi- 
 cations. A great part of the rock is hollowed out into caverns, 
 some of which are of magnificent dimensions, especially one 
 called St. George's Cave, at the southern point, which although 
 having only an opening of five feet, expands into an apartment 
 of two hundred feet in length by ninety in breadth, from the lofty 
 
400 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 roof of which descend numerous stalactical pillars, giving it the 
 appearance of a gothic cathedral. These caves seem to be the 
 chief thing for which Gibraltar was remarkable among the an- 
 cients. They are mentioned by the Roman geographer, Pom- 
 ponius Mela, who wrote about the middle of the first century of 
 our era. The southern termination of the rock of Gibraltar is 
 called Europa Point, and has been sometimes spoken of as the ter- 
 mination in that direction of the European continent ; but Tarifa 
 Point, to the west of Gibraltar, is fully five miles farther south. 
 
 It is impossible for us here to attempt any description of the 
 fortifications which now cover so great a part of the celebrated 
 promontory. Gibraltar was first fortified in the modern style 
 by the German engineer, Daniel Speckel, at the command ol 
 the emperor Charles V., towards the close of the sixteenth cen- 
 tury. But little of what was then erected probably now re- 
 mains. Since the place fell into possession of the English, no 
 expense has been spared to turn its natural advantages to the 
 best account ; and additions have repeatedly been made to the 
 old fortifications, on the most extensive scale. It is now, with- 
 out doubt, the most complete fortress in the world. 
 
 More than half a century ago Gibraltar was accounted by 
 military men almost impregnable. " No power whatever," says 
 Colonel James, in his history of the Herculanaen Straits, pub- 
 lished in 1771, " can take that place, unless a plague, pestilence, 
 famine, or the want of ordnance, musketry and ammunition, or 
 some unforeseen stroke of Providence, should happen." It is 
 certainly now much stronger than it was then. One improve- 
 ment which has especially added to its security, is the formation 
 of numerous covered galleries excavated in the rock, with em- 
 brasures for firing down upon both the isthmus and the bay. 
 
 Gibraltar was taken by an English fleet, under the command 
 of Sir George Rooke and the Prince of Hesse Darmstadt, in July, 
 1704. The project of the attack was suddenly formed at a coun- 
 cil of war held on board the admiral's ship, while the fleet was 
 cruising in the Mediterranean, and it was apprehended that it 
 would be obliged to return to England without having perform- 
 ed any exploit commensurate to the expectations with which it 
 had been fitted out. The affair proved a very easy one ; the 
 garrison, which consisted of one hundred and fifty men, having 
 surrendered after a bombardment of only a few houTS. The 
 assailants lost only sixty lives, the greater part by a mine which 
 was sprung after they had affected a landing. In the latter part 
 of the same year, a most resolute effort was made to recover the 
 place by the combined forces of France and Spain, which failed 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 40i 
 
 after it had been persevered in for several months, and had cost 
 the besiegers not less than 10,000 men. The loss of the garrison 
 was about four hundred. 
 
 At the peace of Utrecht, in 1713, the possession of Gibraltar, 
 was confirmed to England. In 1727, however, another attempt, 
 on a formidable scale, was made by Spain, to dislodge the for- 
 eigners. An army of 20,000 men having encamped in the 
 neighborhood, the attack was commenced in February, and con- 
 tinued till the 12th of May, when it was put an end to by the 
 general peace. In this siege the garrison lost three hundred in 
 killed and wounded ; but the loss of the besiegers was not less 
 than 3000. The guns in the fortifications, it is worthy of re- 
 mark, proved so bad, that seventy cannons and thirty mortars 
 burst in the course of the firing. 
 
 But the most memorable of all the sieges of Gibraltar was the 
 last, which commenced in 1779, and did not terminate till it had 
 been continued for more than three years. Of this remarkable 
 siege an excellent and interesting account has been given by 
 Captain John Drink water, who was present in the beleaguered 
 fortress during the whole time. England was engaged in sus- 
 taining the contest with her revolted colonies in America, when 
 hostilities were also commenced against her, first by France, and 
 some time after by Spain. There is no doubt that, whatever 
 were her professions, the latter power took up arms merely with 
 the object of recovering Gibraltar. The Spanish ambassador 
 having announced the intentions of his court, in London, on the 
 16th of June, 1779, on the 21st of the same month all communi- 
 cation between Gibraltar and the surrounding country was 
 closed by command of the government of Madrid. It was the 
 middle of the following month, however, before the Spaniards 
 began to block up the fort. Fortunately, in the early part of this 
 year, General George Augustus Eliot, who had been recently ap- 
 pointed governor, had arrived in the fort, and brought to the crisis 
 that was approaching the aid of his great military science and 
 talents, as well as of some of the highest moral qualities that ever 
 adorned the soldier or the man. General Eliot, who was the 
 ninth and youngest son of Sir Gilbert Eliot, of Stobbs, in Rox- 
 burghshire, was at this time about sixty years of age, more than 
 forty of which he had spent in the service of his country. Another 
 fortunate circumstance was that a supply of provisions had ar 
 rived in the preceding April. Had it not been for this, the garri- 
 son might have suffered terribly from the sudden stoppage of 
 their accustomed intercourse both with Spain and Africa. 
 
 The first firing which took place was on the 12th of Septem- 
 34* 
 
402 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 ber, when a cannonade was opened from the fort which destnyed 
 the works that the besiegers had spent many of the prece ling 
 weeks in erecting. The blockade, notwithstanding, becmie 
 every day closer ; and the occasional boats, which had for seme 
 time stolen in from the African coast and other places, at length 
 found it impossible to continue their attempts. By the end of 
 October, provisions had become extremely dear. About the same 
 time, too, the small-pox broke out among the Jewish inhabitants 
 of the town, and every precaution had to be used to prevent the 
 spread of the disease. In November, the governor, in order to 
 try on how little food life and strength could be sustained, re- 
 stricted himself for eight days to four ounces of rice per day. 
 Thistles, dandelions, wild leeks, &c, began to be eaten by the 
 people of the town ; and meat sold from half a crown to four 
 shillings the pound. 
 
 The first firing from the besiegers took place on the 12th of Jan- 
 uary, 1780 ; and the first person wounded in the fort was a woman. 
 By the end of March, the first supply of provisions arrived, brought 
 in by the gallant Admiral Rodney, who had not only cut his way 
 to the assistance of his distressed countrymen through all the op- 
 position of the enemy, but had captured six of their men-of-war, 
 including a sixty-four gun ship with the admiral on board, to- 
 gether with seventeen merchantmen. His present majesty, then 
 known ae Prince William Henry, was serving on board one of 
 Sir George Rodney's ships as a midshipman, and often visited 
 the garrison while the fleet remained in the bay. Captain Drink- 
 water relates that, on seeing a prince of the blood thus serving 
 as a warrant-officer, the captive Spanish admiral exclaimed that 
 Great Britain well deserved the empire of the seas, when even 
 her king's sons were found thus holding the humblest situations 
 on board her ships. 
 
 For a good many months after this, things continued in near- 
 ly the same state. The garrison and town's people were again 
 and again reduced to the greatest privations, by scarcity of pro- 
 visions, before supplies arrived. In the spring of 1781, the be- 
 siegers at last opened their batteries, and continued firing upon 
 the town till they had completely destroyed it. On the 27th of 
 April, however, a most gallant exploit was performed by a party 
 from the garrison, who, making a sortie from their fortifications, 
 succeeded in setting fire to and reducing to ashes, all the erec- 
 tions of the enemy, although distant not less than three quarters 
 of a mile. This, however, brought only a temporary relief. The 
 firing soon after recommenced, and, for more than a year, con- 
 tinued almost incessantly. In the course of 1782, it was, on the 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 4CF J 
 
 suggestion of General Boyd, returned from the rock with red- 
 hot balls, a device which was found to produce the most power- 
 ful effect. The enemy however now prepared for a grand 
 effort. On the 12th of September, the combined fleets of France 
 and Spain, arrived in the bay. Next morning there were drawn 
 up around the south and west sides of the promontory a most 
 formidable armament, consisting of forty-seven sail of the line, 
 seven of which were three-deckers, together with ten battering- 
 ships, the strongest that had ever been built, and many frigates 
 and smaller vessels. On land there lay an army of 40,000 
 men, with batteries on which were mounted 200 pieces of heavy 
 ordnance. On the other side, the garrison now consisted of 
 about seven thousand effective men. The ships were permitted 
 U take their stations without molestation ; but, about a quarter 
 before ten o'clock, as soon as the first of them dropped anchor, 
 the citadel began to pour upon them its hitherto reserved artil- 
 lery. Now commenced a scene of terrible sublimity. Four 
 hundred pieces of the heaviest ordnance thundered without in- 
 termission, and filled the air with smoke and flame. " For 
 some hours," says Captain Drinkwater, " the attack and defense 
 were so equally well supported, as scarcely to admit any ap- 
 pearance of superiority in the cannonade of either side. The 
 wonderful construction of the ships seemed to bid defiance to the 
 powers of the heaviest ordnance. In the afternoon, however, 
 the face of things began to change considerably. The smoke 
 which had been observed to issue from the upper part of the flag- 
 ship, appeared to prevail, notwithstanding the constant appli- 
 cation of water; and the admiral's second was perceived to be 
 in the same condition. Confusion was now apparent on board 
 several of the vessels ; and, by the evening, their cannonade was 
 considerably abated. About seven or eight o'clock, it almost 
 entirely ceased, excepting from one or two ships to the north- 
 ward, which, from their distance, had suffered little injury." 
 
 In the end, the attack ended in the complete annihilation of the 
 assailing squadron. All the larger ships were beaten to pieces or 
 burnt. 
 
 As night approached, groans and signals of distress from 
 those on board the shattered navy, supplied the place of the now 
 slackened fire. Many of the wretched men were struggling for 
 life in the waters ; and the victors themselves at last put out to 
 their assistance, and picked numbers of them up. The loss of 
 the enemy was supposed to amount to about 2,000, including 
 prisoners. Of the English, there were only 16 killed and 68 
 wounded. The rock was a much better defense than even 
 
401 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 those strong-built men-of-war. The assailants had 300 pieces 
 of ordnance in play ; the garrison only employed 80 cannon, 
 7 mortars, and 9 howitzers. " Upwards of 8,300 rounds," says 
 Captain Drinkwater, "more than half of which were hot shot, 
 ond 716 barrels of powder, were expended by our artillery." 
 
 Even this complete discomfiture, however, did not subdue the 
 obstinacy ot the besiegers. They continued to encompass the 
 place, and even to keep up a feeble fire upon it, some months 
 longer. At length the long blockade was terminated by the 
 announcement of the signature of the preliminaries of a general 
 peace, on the 2d of February, 1783. The men in the Spanish 
 boat that came with the tidings of this event, made their appear- 
 ance with ecstasy in their countenances, and exclaiming, " We 
 are all friends !" It was not till the 10th of March, however 
 that free intercourse was re-established by the arrival from Eng- 
 land of the official intelligence that peace had been concluded. 
 General Eliot and his brave companions soon after returned 
 home to receive the congratulations of their country ; and since 
 this hard contest, no foreign power has dared to assault Gibraltar. 
 
 FRENCH EXILES TO SOUTH AMERICA. 
 
 [From Blackwood's Magazine.] 
 
 At two in the morning of the 8th of September, those men, 
 to the number of sixteen, who were to be speedily followed by 
 one hundred and sixty-three more, were put into four cages, 
 secured with iron bars on their four sides, and the cages fixed 
 on the frames of wagons, the whole rough equipage somewhat 
 resembling an artillery tumbril. A guard sat in each cage, 
 carrying the key to the padlock that fastened the iron grating 
 by which it was entered. The galley-slave commandant of the 
 temple was put at the head of their guard, which consisted of 
 six hundred men, cavalry and infantry, with two guns. The 
 transit was miserable, -The winter had set in with unusual in- 
 clemency. As if to add studied mortification to the natural evils 
 of tne conveyance and the exile, the escort took around through 
 the principal" streets of Paris ; first carried their wretched prison 
 ers within sight of the Luxembourg palace, the seat of their 
 masters, which they saw full of lights and apparent festivity, and 
 then by the Theater of the Adeon, which had been converted 
 into a hall for the Council of Five Hundred, and where tne 
 purified council were sitting even at that hour, several of whose 
 
French Exiles to South America. — Page 404. 
 
 Death of Hofer.— Page 431. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 405 
 
 members ran out to insult and triumph over them, stopped the 
 escort, gave money and drink to the soldiers, made contemptuous 
 offers of mercy, drank to their good voyage, and snee v ed at them 
 to the last. 
 
 The scene was not unfitted for the closing act of that melo- 
 drama, a Frenchman's political life. The night was stormy, 
 rain fell, and wind howled ; the outside of the theater, lighted 
 by the usual French range of flrepots, which tossed and flared 
 at every blast, had a wild look, which suited the desperation of 
 their fortunes; but a still wilder scene was in the multitude on 
 whom that light fell, the refuse of even the Parisian rabble, the 
 cut-throats and cut-purses of the low quarters of the capital; fel- 
 lows neck-deep in all the horrors of the revolution, and who 
 looked upon the escape of a victim as a fraud upon their rights 
 of massacre : all first-rate patriots, to a man terrorists, a name 
 which singly implies every crime of hand and heart, under 
 every pretense that the revolution made common to every cul- 
 prit in France. To this hideous multitude the opening of the 
 cages, and the delivery of the prisoners to their knives, would 
 have been the highest joy of civisme. But the order of the di- 
 rectory had not reached to this consummation. The escort 
 moved on ; Paris and its populace, its midnight festivals, and its 
 deliberations of blood, were left behind ; and the cages rolled 
 along the Rue d'Enfer, into which they should originally have 
 turned at once, except for the purpose of making their inmates a 
 wretched spectacle. 
 
 They had now to undergo a second course of torment along 
 the road to Rochefort, the intended place of embarkation, from 
 the intolerable bruising and jolting of their rough carriages 
 along the paved roads of France, which was peculiarly felt by 
 those men, some of whom were in advanced life, all mature, and 
 all accustomed, of late years at least, to something of luxury. 
 The stages, too, were mercilessly long ; generally from morning 
 till night. The prisoners, on their arrival, were thrust into the 
 vilest dungeon of the place, and the best in France is a horror 
 to every sense At the end of the first day's journey, they were 
 driven to the door of the prison of Arpajon, a miserable little 
 town, where, however, patriotism flourished even in the jail. 
 The Director Barthelemy, almost bruised to death, and afraid ot 
 being poisoned by the mephitic air that rushed up from the dun 
 geon, stood en attitude, lifting his hands to heaven, the insulted 
 heaven in which not one in a hundred of fools like himself be- 
 lieved. Barbe Marbois, one of the prisoners, formerly an officer 
 of the king, and royal intendant at St. Homingo, but now 9 
 
406 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 wretched democrat, in like terror of being poisoned, made a 
 speech to the galley-slave commandant, requesting "that he 
 might be shot, rather than be thus compelled to die by inches." 
 The galley-slave did not condescend to give any other answer 
 than a smile. But the jailor's wife was more affable. Indig- 
 nant at the insult to her domicile, probably equally indignant at 
 hearing a republican complain of any cruelty, she seized Barbe 
 Marbois by the arm, and crying out, with an oath, " You pre- 
 tend to be very nice, forsooth, but, let me tell you, many a man 
 as good as you has been there, who made no work about it," she 
 flung the ex-intendant from the top of the stairs to the bottom, 
 shut the door upon the party, and left them to find out each other 
 in the dark. The fall fractured the unhappy man's jaw, and left 
 him covered with bruises and blood. His companions cried out 
 for a surgeon to dress his wounds, or for w r ater to wash them. 
 They were as little listened to, as ever they had listened. This 
 was the lesson to a deserter. The next was to a popular repre- 
 sentative. 
 
 The town of Etampes had distinguished itself by its love of 
 liberty, and had, of course, flourished in oratory and assassina- 
 tion. M. Troncon du Coudray, an orator after their own heart, 
 had canvassed them on the merit of congenial feelings ; and 
 they had returned him by that criterion, of all things excellent 
 in a republic, the voice of the multitude. He was now one of 
 the prisoners, and the commandant of the escort took good care 
 that his arrival should be thoroughly known to his constituents. 
 He halted the cages in the square of the little town, and the popu- 
 lace, in consequence, had full leisure to declare those opinions 
 which their representative had so often declared to be the per- 
 fection of human wisdom. They hooted at him and his com- 
 panions, cursed him and them alike, surrounded the cages, insult- 
 ed their living contents with every kind of offense conceivable 
 by an angry Frenchman — and few nations have more inventive 
 faculties on such topics than his own — and pelted them with 
 mire. Du Coudray was astonished above measure at this shift 
 of the popular wind, merely from the difference between a pros- 
 perous republican and a fettered and felon one. He ought to 
 have known the nature of liberty and equality better. Every 
 face now flaming with patriotic wrath, had, but a short time be- 
 fore, been gazing on him with all the benevolence of a flattered 
 rabble, huzzaing in the train of a popular haranguer. Du Cou 
 dray, still confident of his powers of persuasion, started up and 
 made a speech through the bars of the cage m which he figure4 
 through the land, in the style of another Bajazet. 
 
 - 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 407 
 
 The speech was incomparably characteristic, a compound of 
 egotism, nationalism, civisme, and utter fright. 
 
 4 ' Tis I — His I myself" it began " ? Tis your representative s 
 though perhaps you do not know me in this cage. I am dragged 
 to punishment without a trial, or even an accusation. My crime 
 is that of defending your liberties and properties," &c, &c. He 
 then finished his common-places by charging them with the in- 
 gratitude of delivering him over " to his executioners." But 
 the ex-deputy's eloquence had no other effect than that of inflam- 
 ing the wrath of his patriotic voters. They scoffed at him in all 
 directions, pelted him with mud, renewed their furious cries, and 
 execrated the orator, his friends, and his party. 
 
 The little town having long before been handsomely endoctrin- 
 ated with philosophy, rights, privileges, and the solemn and sworn 
 belief that every Frenchman, from the felon in the jail, was per- 
 fectly competent to judge of politics and public qualifications of all 
 kinds, men and measures, members and ministries, now return- 
 ed some of their popular member's wisdom on his own head ; 
 and as he had told them a hundred times over, in the days of his 
 unfettered victory, that they were the wisest, best, most intelligent, 
 and virtuous of mankind, and that the world would never go on 
 tolerably, until the populace took the state into their own hands, 
 they now gave him a running commentary on his eloquence, by 
 a course of cursing, scoffing, and pelting, during the whole pe- 
 riod of the halt, which, for the evident purpose of giving the 
 party this enjoyment in the fullest degree, was prolonged to 
 thirteen hours in the market-place. Citizen Du Coudray had 
 probably never been so long in the presence of his constituents 
 before. The whole exhibition deserved to be immortal, for the 
 benefit of popular members, and the worshipers of popularity. 
 
 At Blois, a reception equally hostile, but on different princi- 
 ples, awaited the prisoners. The multitude in some of those 
 provincial towns had been too far from the civic feasts and fetes 
 of Paris to know much more of the revolution than that they 
 were in beggary and despair, that their industry was broken 
 up, their little trade extinguished, and their little property torn 
 away by the republican extortioners. At Blois, the multitude 
 ran together to kill the prisoners ; for, in those days, the knife 
 was the grand decider of all causes. But their cries must have 
 wrung the spirits of the miserable men, whom justice ought to 
 have seized long before. 
 
 " There they are," was the roar of the populace — "there they 
 are, the miscreants who killed the king- ! There are the king's 
 murderers ! What have they done for us? They have load* 
 
408 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 ed us with taxes; they have eaten up our bread; they have 
 brought war upon us !" 
 
 The uproar continued, until the prisoners, apparently to save 
 them from being torn in pieces, for the guard had been already 
 attacked, were put into a small damp chapel, where all their bed 
 was a little straw on the floor, and to sleep was impossible. 
 
 Here the wife of Barbe Marbois came to take leave of him. 
 She had traveled from her estate at Metz, for this apostate was 
 a man of fortune, to bid him farewell. She saw him at last, but 
 with great difficulty ; the officer of the guard giving her but a 
 quarter of an hour, during which he was present, holding his 
 watch in his hand. Their departure from Blois was so un- 
 usually protracted, that it seemed to the prisoners to have been a 
 contrivance, usual enough in the days of equality, to give them 
 up to the mob. The firmness of the municipal officer who had 
 charge of them, and who openly declared that the pedple were 
 at the moment tampered with by the officers of the escort for the 
 purpose, at length compelled the commandant to move. The 
 procession was followed out of the town by the same retributive 
 exclamations against them, as traitors stained with the blood of 
 their king. 
 
 Their journey contmuea : a course of hunger, weariness, and 
 insult. At Tours, they got each a loaf and half a bottle of wine, 
 their first mea A after a fast of thirty hours. The confinement cf 
 their cages cramped their limbs, and put them to the most mise- 
 rable inconveniences ; for, from the time when the iron grating 
 was locked upon them in the morning, it was seldom opened 
 again till night. The weather was stormy, wet, and cold, and 
 the cages gave them the full benefit of the exposure. They 
 were generally put into the town dungeon for the night; and in 
 several instances, the poisoned air of those deplorable places 
 made them swoon immediately on their entering. At Niortthey 
 passed the night in peculiar wretchedness, in a dark, damp hole, 
 under the castle, twenty-five feet under ground, which affected 
 their limbs so much, that when they were ordered to the cages 
 next morning, they were scarcely able to move. Their last day's 
 journey commenced at three in the morning, and brought them 
 to Rochefort, at the end of nine leagues of the most wretched 
 roads. 
 
 At Rochefort they expected to find a few day's rest ; but they 
 were alarmed by finding that they were led round the fortifica- 
 tions, with a rabble in their train fiercely crying out, "To the 
 water — to the water !' ; which appears to have been the provin- 
 cial substitute for " To the lamp-post" of the Parisian legislators, 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 409 
 
 he usual mode of republican justice in the sea-ports being by 
 drowning. The cry was reinforced by the workmen of the 
 dockyards, the soldiers, and the crews of the ships, who flocked 
 round the cages as they slowly passed along, shouting out, 
 " Down with the tyrants ; make them drink out of the large 
 cup !" (the ocean.) The French are picturesque, even in 
 murder. 
 
 In Rochefort there was thus no " rest for the sole of unblest 
 feet." They were immediately carried on board a little privateer 
 moored in the river, and given into the hands of a guard of 
 scoffing soldiers, who pushed them down under the decks, where 
 they were nearly stifled by the smoke, the smells, and the want 
 of fresh air. 
 
 They were now almost dying of hunger, for they had not 
 eaten a regular meal for the last thirty-six hours. At length a 
 couple of loaves and a pail of water were let down among them. 
 They were, however, scarcely able to touch either from the dis 
 gust that rose from every thing round them. A horrible feeling, 
 too, took possession of them as the night fell. One of the cus- 
 tomary instruments of republican justice was a prison-ship, 
 with a trap-door in the hold, through which the victims were 
 quietly dropped at midnight into the bottom of the river. The 
 noyades at Nantz were the first displays of this compendious 
 invention, which had the merit of saving all trouble, avoiding 
 all public clamor, if such could have arisen on the side of hu- 
 manity; cost neither powder nor ball, and cost not even the 
 trouble of putting a new edge on the knife of the guillotin. The 
 bed of the Charente was as deep as the Loire, and the little pri- 
 vateer was as likely to be the instrument as any other in the hands 
 of the republic. The situation was undoubtedly an embarrassing 
 one. For some hours, the prisoners expected every moment to be 
 their last; they had wrought themselves into the conviction that 
 they were to be drowned. Every step of the sailors above their 
 heads, every word uttered, every rope handled, was actually 
 taken as a direct preparation for their deaths. At length, after 
 an unusual bustle above, the vessel weighed, and began to move. 
 Terror converts every thing to its own substance, and the pris- 
 oners were now only the more certain that their hour was come. 
 
 But the morning dawned, and they perceived that the priva- 
 teer was rapidly sailing down the river. This was fresh food 
 for anxiety. The new conjecture was, that, to avoid the eclat of 
 an execution close to the city, they were to be conveyed to some 
 remote corner of the river, and there drowned. At midnight, 
 the vessel suddenly came to an anchor. The hour seemed now 
 29 35 
 
410 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 inevitable. They were leagues from the city. At this moment, 
 an order was heard for six of the prisoners by name to come upon 
 deck. This was looked on as clearly the commencement of the 
 execution. The six took leave of their compatriots, as going to 
 death. Six more were soon after called up. They looked 
 lound the deck for those who had preceded them; but they were 
 not to be seen. The natural conclusion was drawn, (( they 
 were murdered !" The successive groups were ordered over 
 the ship's side into boats, and the boats rowed towards the river's 
 mouth. This was of course, but another, mode of the drowning 
 system. The ocean was to be the depository of the secret. Sus- 
 pense had exerted her last torture on them ; when at length they 
 reached a ship of war lying off the river. Here they found 
 their fellow prisoners ; and the manners of the captain, which 
 had more of the sailor and less of the patriot, than they had 
 lately seen, gave them some hope that they were not to be so 
 speedily sent to consummate the republican theory. Their jour- 
 ney had lasted from the 8th of September until the 22d, a con* 
 tinual progress of pain, famine, contumely, and terror. 
 
 But the severities of even their journey received but little re- 
 laxation on board. A French corvette is small ; and the French, 
 let their ships be large or small, have no habits of accommoda- 
 tion. The prisoners were divided, probably by the necessity of 
 the case, twelve of them between decks, with the hatchways 
 shut, and without room for motion ; the other four in a hole, the 
 boatswain's store-room ; a place of utter darkness, where they 
 could neither move nor stand, and rendered pestilential by all 
 the morbid effluvia of neglect, the refuse of the store, and the 
 neighborhood of the hold. The corvette set sail at four in the 
 morning ; and their breakfast was a biscuit apiece, so impenetra- 
 ble by the teeth of the old men, and so repulsive to the senses of 
 the younger, that it produced a general remonstrance. 
 
 "The air," said Barbe de Marbois, " is infectious ; if you do 
 not suffer us to breathe the fresh air, we shall all be dead in a 
 few days. And we shall not be the only sufferers ; you will 
 thus have the plague on board of your ship, and will lose your 
 crew." 
 
 The last argument found its way, and the captain promised to 
 let them breathe, when they w r ere out of sight of France. 
 
 Their dinner this day was another biscuit, with a bucket of 
 boiled beans, just as they were taken out of the ship's kettle, 
 and this completed their bill of fare for the whole voyage. They 
 had the usual visitation of sea-sickness to contend with in more 
 than usual severity ; for thev put to sea in a storm, which blew 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 411 
 
 Ihem back into Rochelle. There their captain was changed; 
 and their new captain, Laporte, began his career with a harangue 
 to his crew in this style. 
 
 " Soldiers, I order you to watch these great culprits closely. 
 And you, sailors, I forbid you, on pain of death, to communi- 
 cate in any manner whatever with these miscreants." His next 
 address was to the prisoners. " Messieurs, you are very fortu- 
 nate in being treated with so much clemency ." 
 
 Their guard should not be forgotten. These were marines 
 sent home from the Isles of France and Bourbon, where the revo- 
 lution had done its work in throwing the colonies into a state of 
 havoc and misery. These fellows took delight in recounting 
 their exploits in Europe and Asia. One boasted of having kill- 
 ed his captain by a stab in the back, on a march, on suspicion of 
 aristocracy. Another calculated the number of priests whom 
 he had drowned in the Loire. Another mimicked the grimaces 
 of the unfortunate people destroyed in the Noyades. Others 
 boasted of their having knocked the drowning on the head as 
 they attempted to swim from the trap-door. The Loire was a 
 never-failing subject ; and the only regret was, that they had not 
 the opportunity of placing the Isle of France a la hauteur de 
 la revolution I The pauses in those narratives were filled up 
 with quarrels, abominable songs, and blasphemy. 
 
 The remainder of the voyage was only a repetition of wretch- 
 edness. As the sea-sickness subsided, hunger took its place. 
 They were almost starved upon the narrow regimen of their 
 jailor. Marbois, maddening with famine, and with his eye 
 sparkling with fury, at last assailed the captain. " I am hungry 
 — I am hungry," he howled out like a wolf; " I am hungry — 
 give me some food, or throw me into the sea." This wild ap- 
 plication produced its effect. Some food was given to him. 
 Even the length of the voyage was an additional feature of their 
 sufferings. It lasted fifty days. It w r as not till the 10th of Octo- 
 ber, 1797, that they came in sight of the town of Cayenne. 
 
 The governor of the colony was Jeannet, a nephew of the 
 regicide Danton ; he received the prisoners civilly. But within 
 a few hours he changed his style altogether, and ordered them 
 under strict surveillance. Collot d'Herbois and Billaud de 
 Varrennes, both notorious actors in the hideous reign of terror, 
 two villains who ought to have long before " glutted the region 
 kites with their offal," had come some years earlier to Cayenne 
 for the express purpose of raising the colony a la hauteur de 
 la revolution. This they commenced by the usual harangues 
 to the negroes, declaring them free — harangues which were foi* 
 
412 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 lowed by the usual consequences, massacre and rebellion. Bui 
 the insurrection being- extinguished, after a frightful carnage 
 of the unfortunate barbarians who had been thus stimulated to 
 slaughter their masters, the two leaders were seized and thrown 
 into prison at Sinamary, a dependency on Cayenne. There 
 Collot d'Herbois died ; but his colleage was still alive, and 
 his partisans in the colony now demanded that the newly-im- 
 ported prisoners should be put on the same footing with the 
 old. The governor, probably glad of an excuse to escape the 
 trouble of watching them, availed himself of the clamor, and 
 complimented the Jacobinism of Cayenne with the new trans- 
 portation. An order was issued for their movement to Sina- 
 mary, ninety miles by sea from the town of Cayenne, where 
 they arrived on the 23d of November. 
 
 They were met on the shore of this fearful wilderness by one 
 of the few settlers, a Mr. Rosmason, who greeted them with 
 the ominous salutation, " Oh, gentlemen, you are come into a 
 tomb." " We know it," answered old General de Murinais ; 
 " and the sooner the better." The sixteen were quartered in 
 six miserable rooms of the miserable fort, with a hammock 
 each for their sole furniture, and a portion of biscuit, a pound 
 of salt meat, and a glass of rum to correct the noxious quali 
 ties of the water. These were the luxuries of men, some of 
 whom had lived in peace and honor under their good king, 
 others had risen to high rank in the armies, and all had been 
 accustomed to the better order of Parisian life. They might 
 now have been glad to exchange situations with the most house 
 less pauper of Europe. 
 
 In the fort they were prisoners still. They were compelled 
 to attend a muster twice a day ; and, with one or two exceptions, 
 none of them passed without the gates but to the grave. All 
 the minor miseries that belong to a tropical climate tormented 
 them hourly. Their rooms were alive with venomous insects ; 
 they were devoured by musketoes, gnats, bugs, scorpions, and 
 a whole host of others, equally disgusting. Serpents were fre- 
 quent. Pichegru killed one thicker than his arm, which had 
 made its way into the folds of his cloak, on which he lay as a 
 pillow. All within view of the fort was forest — a howling wilder- 
 ness, which constantly echoed with the screaming of monkeys, 
 the groaning of millions of toads, and the melancholy shriek 
 and roar of tigers. To fill up this concert, and prevent sleep 
 to the sick or the well, the alarm was beaten every morning 
 before the door, and no remonstrance was able to put a stop to 
 this petty and peevish cruelty. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 413 
 
 The prisoners began now to accomplish the purpose for 
 which they were sent across the seas. They began to sink 
 under the climate. Old De Murinais died first. He had been 
 a general, had possessed a large fortune, and was the father of 
 a numerous family. His crime in embracing the Revolution 
 met its punishment — exile and death by the tyranny of the 
 Revolution. Barthelemy was next seized; but his disorder 
 was more tardy, and there was time to make a representation 
 to the governor, who ordered him to be conveyed to the hospi- 
 tal at Cayenne. But the miseries of confinement were not the 
 only ones which these wretched men were to suffer. They 
 added to them the miseries of politics. They were involved 
 in perpetual disputes on public affairs ; and having no fixed 
 principles on those or any other subjects, their quarrels were 
 equally vague, fruitless, and bitter. 
 
 They sometimes tried to vary those dubious amusements by 
 having recourse to such little occupations as they could find. 
 Marbois turned carpenter, made some attempts to furnish his 
 hovel, and, Frenchman-like, finally made a violin, with which, 
 Frenchman-like, he set the negroes dancing. Du Coudray, 
 who had been one of the haranguers of the council of elders, 
 occupied himself in writing endless memorials, which, of course, 
 were never to see the light; in making orations to the winds ; 
 and in composing a funeral oration for old De Murinais. His 
 audience, when he recited this effusion, were the soldiers and 
 the negroes. The orator took for his theme, " By the rivers 
 of Babylon we sat down, and wept when we remembered 
 Zion ;" in all likelihood, the only use that he ever made of his 
 Bible. The soldiers were powerfully affected by the appropri- 
 ateness of the text ; the poor negroes wept, we must suppose 
 for the same reason. But fame, even at Sinamary, was not with- 
 out its perils. The governor of Cayenne, not approving of 
 these " powerful" emotions in his prison, sent down a notice, 
 that any orator who in future made either soldiers or negroes 
 shed tears over the dust of the prisoners, should be shot with- 
 out mercy. Demosthenes himself would have shrunk from 
 the laurel at this price. Du Coudray was silenced for ever. 
 
 Laffond, formerly a man of commercial wealth, which was 
 publicly thrown into a state of ruin by his arrest, employed 
 himself talking to his wife's picture. Pichegru, the only indi- 
 vidual of the party in whom it is possible to feel the slightest 
 interest, employed his time like a man who disdained the des« 
 pair of one portion of his fellow exiles, and the childish pur- 
 suits of the other. He gave up his days to learning Fnglish, 
 
 S5* 
 
414 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 doubtless with the bold view to better times, and with the ob* 
 ject of making future valuable use of a language, which his 
 silly countrymen affect to despise, and can scarcely ever acquire, 
 but which has spread to every corner of the world, and will, 
 before another century is past, be the language of three-fourths 
 of the world. His relaxation was singing, and his songs were 
 by choice on bold and martial subjects. Throughout the whole 
 period, he retained peculiarly the bearing and habits of the 
 great soldier. The ex-director Barthelemy, was just as conge- 
 nially employed until his illness ; he made war upon the in- 
 sects, put the scorpions to the rout, and was voted the general 
 bug-destroyer by acclamation. 
 
 In January, Willot and Bourdon, two of the exiles, died of 
 violent fevers ; application had been made to remove them to 
 the hospital at Cayenne, but refused. Barthelemy was sent back 
 to the fort. He brought the intelligence, received by an Amer- 
 ican vessel just arrived from Europe, that the directory had ac- 
 complished a complete triumph over all other factions, and that 
 military tribunals were to be formed to try all politicians of the 
 opposite side. The exiles now probably congratulated them- 
 selves on their dungeon, but it promised to be for life. 
 
 In April, their leisure was cheered by the sight of a popular 
 election. About fifteen hundred negroes, and forty or fifty whites, 
 were summoned to vote for a representative to the council in 
 Paris. But the negroes were saved from all trouble of think- 
 ing on the subject. The directory ordered them to elect citi 
 zen Monge. He was then a commissary employed in collect 
 ing the plunder of the Italian works of art. The citizen was 
 chosen ; and Monge was announced to mankind as represen- 
 tative of the freemen of Cayenne ! The exhibition must have 
 been gratifying to those lovers of universal suffrage and the 
 equality of mankind. 
 
 In May, two more of the exiles, Laffond and Du Coudray, 
 were suddenly taken ill at dinner. They were soon in great 
 torture, and they seem to have been poisoned. Du Coudray, 
 though swelled and dying, wrote to the governor for permission 
 to go to the hospital at Cayenne. The answer returned by the 
 commandant of the fort, an insolent Jacobin, who had been a 
 lackey, was, " I know not why those gentlemen are continu- 
 ally importuning me. They ought to know, that they have 
 not been sent to Sinamary to live there to all eternity." 
 
 The advance of the year, the wretchedness of a confinement 
 which would probably lay them all in the gra\e before another 
 autumn, and probably offers of help from some of the settlers 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 415 
 
 at Cayenne, who were of a different side in politics from the 
 governor, at last suggested the idea of escape. Eight entered 
 into the scheme. Of these Du Coudray was one. But it was 
 soon evident that he would never leave the prison. Still he 
 was anxious to share the attempt. He would say, " I do not 
 flatter myself with the hope of living, but if you go, take me 
 with you. I would breathe my last outside this horrid place. 
 Take me with you, if possible." 
 
 But the increase of his disorder put the possibility out of the 
 question. Towards the end of May, both he and Laffond died, 
 after a horrible and protracted illness of nearly thirty days. 
 Du Coudray, on the night before his death, desired to see 
 Pichegru and the others who had agreed to make their escape, 
 when he gave them some of the wisdom that agony and the 
 death-bed force upon men. " Fly," said he, " fly from Sum- 
 mary. May Heaven favor your flight ! I shall soon be no 
 more. But should you ever see my friends, tell them my last 
 sigh was for them and my country, and forget not my children. 
 Should fortune ever smile on you again, oh, do not disturb the 
 peace of our country, but rather brave all the sufferings of 
 human misery !" After this declaration of the repentant Jaco- 
 bin, he pointed to the apartment of a profligate citizen-abbe, 
 one of their number, for whose civisme they all seem to have 
 had a peculiar aversion. " He talks," said the dying man, "of 
 civil war. It is his wish. Ah, my friends, promise me you 
 will prevent it, if it be in your power!" He died soon after, 
 and this was the fate of a man of character and talent, who, if 
 he had followed the natural career of ability and honor, and 
 shrank from the abominations of rabble popularity and regicide 
 politics, would probably have passed through a long life of en- 
 joyment and honor, instead of finishing a course of the trem- 
 bling wretchedness of ambition in France by the agonies of a 
 premature and desolate death in an American wilderness. 
 
 Laffond died within two days, silent, but retaining his senses, 
 and painfully to the last fixing his eyes on his wife's portrait. 
 The fear of death now seized upon them all. The tossings of 
 the revolutionary wave, on which they had calculated for fling- 
 ing them back to France, had now subsided ; the tide had even 
 set the contrary way. The Directory was m full power. Death 
 had already thinned their ranks. The mere victims of one of 
 those unprincipled and fierce changes which constitute the 
 lottery of Republicanism, and in which prosperity is as little 
 the conscious triumph of virtue, as adversity brings the con- 
 soling sense of martyrdom in the righteous cause ; these men 
 
416 HISTORICAL CABINENT. 
 
 could have felt themselves merely as unlucky gamesters In 
 misery of mind and body, they now saw no alternative but the 
 grave, and a desperate attempt at escape through the wilderness. 
 But the colony was in a region of which no man knew the limits. 
 The whole horizon was a forest, utterly impassable from the 
 swamps, the wild beasts, and the arrows of the Indian tribes. 
 This idea was therefore abandoned. But the horrors of the 
 rainy season were now at hand. If the hurricanes came, they 
 would be a stronger guard than chains of iron. Their prison 
 would be closed on them for six months, and their death was 
 all but inevitable. The governor was evidently of the same 
 opinion; for he confined his cares to merely keeping them 
 fixed on the spot, and refusing the sick the chances of his hos- 
 pital. Their deaths seem to have been even determined on ; for 
 on the occasional appearance of a ship in the river, which they 
 might conceive to be an English one, and therefore likely to 
 befriend them, their lackey commandant's usual speech was, 
 " Ah, you reckon upon those English. You may think what 
 you please, but they shall never take* you away ali&& .'" 
 
 At length a new idea suggested itself. Picriegru's name 
 was well known among the Dutch settlers in Guiana, and some 
 of them, in compassion to the sufferings of a man, who, in the 
 conquest of their paternal country had exhibited fewer of the 
 atrocities of the time than any of her conquering generals, and 
 who had probably laid up some memories of personal kindness, 
 for his nature was generous and noble, had sent him a present 
 of beer and fresh provisions by a French coaster. The ruffian 
 to whom it was intrusted, and who had evidently been an eleve 
 of the new school of rights and wrongs, disdained to carry such 
 comfort to an Aristocrat ; he therefore, with his crew, reveled 
 on the beer and provisions, and then, that the vexation of the 
 affair might not be lost to the unfortunate prisoners, came to 
 the fort for the purpose of boasting how he had plundered them. 
 
 The provisions were gone, but this drunken knave's boast 
 threw a sudden light on their operations. It was clear that 
 they had friends at Surinam, and the only question now was 
 how they were to reach them. Still the difficulties were enor- 
 mous. None of the exiles knew any thing of navigation. 
 None o f them knew anything of the vast extent of coast which 
 ky between them and the Dutch settlements. The few schoo- 
 ners which approached the fort always anchored a league 
 down the river. They had no boat to reach one of these ves- 
 sels ; no arms to take it, and no provisions to put on board. In 
 this dilemma, there was but one resource, a sma 1 canoe, which 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 417 
 
 took the guard daily down the river to a redoubt at its mouth. 
 But the canoe lay constantly under the eye of a sentinel ; and 
 a confidential person in the fort told them, that though Surinam 
 was the only place to which they could possibly go, it was alto- 
 gether out of the question that they should go in the canoe ; 
 that it could not hold them, nor, if it could, could stand the sea; 
 that the distance to the nearest point, Fort Orange, was at least 
 a hundred leagues ; and finally, that the Dutch governor had 
 prohibited, under the severest penalties, all landings from Cay- 
 enne, in consequence of the notorious intentions of the Cayen- 
 nese Frenchmen to revolutionize the Dutch settlements in the 
 most revolutionary mode. 
 
 This last difficulty was in some degree met by the assistance 
 of a friend in Cayenne, who procured eight passports in feign- 
 ed names, Gallois, Picard, &c, signed by Jeannet, such as he 
 was in the habit of giving to the occasional traders from Suri- 
 nam to the French colonies. But the grand point was where 
 to find a pilot. This essential instrument was soon and curi- 
 ously supplied. 
 
 The directory, in the plenitude of their power, setting aside 
 all law, and eager only for plunder, now issued an order for the 
 seizure of neutral ships. In other words, an act of general 
 'piracy. The opportunity was not lost by the Cayennese gov- 
 ernor, nor by his subjects, for every row-boat in their possession 
 was instantly sent to sea, with full privilege to rob every thing, 
 An American ship, with a cargo of flour, provisions, and wine, 
 was steering for Cayenne, for which port her freight was ac- 
 tually intended. One of the privateers met her on her way, 
 and, notwithstanding her destination, seized the ship and cargo 
 at once, and brought the prize to the road of Sinamary, through 
 the double fear of being caught by the English frigates on the 
 way to Cayenne, and of being compelled to give the lion's 
 share to her rapacious governor. 
 
 This capture was a prodigious event in the dreary calendar 
 of Sinamary. The commandant found that there were no less 
 than 40,000 bottles of the French and Spanish vintages on 
 board, and reveled in a long prospect of drunkenness. The 
 soldiers and negroes found themselves more pleasantly employ- 
 ed in dragging the cargo on shore than in working in the fort 
 or the fields. All was brawling and drinking, activity and 
 bustle. In the midst of this tumult, the American captain, 
 Tilly, paid a visit to the prisoners. The first glance of their 
 hideous condition naturally struck him with astonishment ; the 
 exiles say, made him burst into tears ; but the French weep 
 
418 HISTORICAL CABINET 
 
 on all occasions, and Jonathan is not yet so far fallen from the 
 manliness of his English ancestry as to play the sentimental- 
 ist with such facility. The captain did what was worth all the 
 theatrical sorrows of all weepers of the land of melodrame. 
 He determined to assist them to the best of his power, reduced 
 as it was. 
 
 To their surprise, he told them privately, "that to assist 
 them had been the express object of his voyage, and that he had 
 packets from their friends and families on board, hid in one of 
 his barrels, which were now however beyond his reach, though 
 undiscovered by their captors." He had no idea of being the 
 object of any of the French privateers, and had suffered his 
 ship to fall to leeward of Cayenne, in order to have an excuse 
 for anchoring in the road of Sinamary, from which he might 
 communicate with them and enable them to escape. The cap- 
 tain further told them the European news ; of the treaty of 
 Campo Formio, • and of the unprovoked invasion of Switzer 
 land. This last piece of intelligence, perfectly a la Repub- 
 lique as it was, roused all their virtuous indignation ; and Bar- 
 thelemy, in particular, who had participated in the whole Re- 
 publican game as long as he was allowed, was thrown into a 
 paroxysm of attitude and oratory at the infamous novelty of 
 robbing and slaughtering helpless nations. 
 
 They took the captain out upon the rampart, and showed 
 him the canoe ; the sailor shook his head at this diminutive 
 object, and told them that " it would not do ; that they must 
 certainly go to the bottom, if they attempted their exploit in that 
 bark ; that it could not hold them all, nor carry them to Suri- 
 nam." They declared in turn, that something or other they 
 must do, and that speedily; and that, if they must go to the 
 bottom, they would prefer it to the torturing and lingering death 
 of Du Coudray and LafTond. The conference ended by the 
 captain's promising to give them the assistance of his pilot, a 
 zealous and intelligent man of the name of Berwick. 
 
 But they were still to meet with difficulties. An order sud- 
 denly arrived from the governor to send the American captain 
 and his people, without delay, to Cayenne. They were thus 
 on the verge of seeing their whole design overthrown. The 
 captain, however, gave them courage on this occasion. He 
 offered to take their pilotage on himself, and for this purpose to 
 escape and hide in the forest, and there be ready to join them 
 by signal in seizing the canoe on the 3d of June, the day ap- 
 pointed for the attempt. But to this act of generosity, the ra- 
 tional objection occurred, that the captain was too important s 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 41° 
 
 person not to be missed, when his crew were called over, and 
 that the suspicion would be immediately visited upon the pris- 
 oners. Finally, Berwick was again appointed to the honor. 
 
 The third of June was fixed on, from its being the day for 
 which the commandant was invited to dine on board of the 
 American prize. The day commenced prosperously. The 
 commandant was entertained on board with a handsome dinner, 
 and as much wine as he liked. The friends of the prisoners — 
 for even there, whether by hope, fear, or friendship, they had 
 some allies — were active in the crisis. The privateer captain 
 had given some common wine to the soldiers ; in the course of 
 the evening, these bottles unaccountably swelled into a distri- 
 bution large enough to make every one of the garrison either 
 drunk, sleepy, or blind. A female who had arrived a few days 
 before from Cayenne, was the chief distributor, and she scattered 
 her smiles and her bottles indiscriminately among the soldiers 
 in their barracks, the negroes in their hovels, the workmen in 
 their rooms, and the sentinels on guard. Even the prisoners 
 had their share in this general shower of Bordeaux. The 
 Hebe from Cayenne took good care that the wine should be 
 swallowed on the spot, for she filled out the bumpers with her 
 own fair hands, and plied the progress of the general intoxica- 
 tion with French and female zeal. All was freedom, gayety, 
 and Medoc. 
 
 In their festivity, the p; 'son fcrs had a part to play ; and they 
 professed to quarrel. The wine circulated ; and the politicians 
 commenced a furious dispute. Aubry and Larue undertook 
 the task of out-arguing Barthelemy ; Dossouville and Pichegru 
 threatened single combat; Millot and Ramel performed the 
 part of pacificators, and, of course, more embroiled the fray. 
 The dispute rapidly grew more ferocious, until glasses and 
 plates flew about, and persons ran in to quell the uproar. The 
 experiment was for the purpose of preventing any suspicion of 
 agreement in any design, whatever it might be, and it was per- 
 fectly adapted to succeed, 
 
 Night, long looked for, fell at last, and the prisoners had 
 sufficient evidence that the American's claret had done its duty ; 
 they saw the commandant brought on shore dead drunk, lika 
 a corpse. The negroes and soldiers were lying every where 
 on the ground, in the same condition. Complete stillness 
 followed the riot, outrage, and atrocious songs of the day. All 
 were silent, for all were drunk. The clock struck nine. The 
 hour agreed on was come. Dossouville, who had been sent 
 out to reconnoiter, gave them the glad intelligence that the 
 
420 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 whole garrison was thoroughly disqualified for military pro- 
 ceedings for that night. 
 
 They now attempted once more to persuade De Marbois to 
 take his chance along with them. He was a disputer of the 
 true species. They had frequently debated the point with him 
 before. But this foolish old man answered them, and now, 
 with a French harangue on the glory of sacrifices for our 
 country, and a flourish on the certainty of being hereafter 
 avenged. He was evidently much more certain of being 
 drowned. French as they were, they felt the absurdity of this 
 verbiage, and left the old orator to find what justice he could 
 from his fellow regicides. Pichegru, Aubry, and Ramel now 
 mounted the bastion, went towards the sentinel, and asked him 
 ' What it was o'clock?" The sentinel, as drunk as his com- 
 mandant, had no words, but fixed his eyes upon the stars. He 
 was instantly seized by the throat, Pichegru disarmed him, 
 and the rest dragged him along, grasping h:3 throat to prevent 
 his giving the alarm. In this way they pulled him up the 
 parapet, and then he fell into the river, where it is to be pre- 
 sumed that this drunkard was drowned. At least they heard 
 no more of him. He had been the drummer who beat the 
 alarm at their doors in the morning, and who provoked them 
 by his constant insolence. They had retaliated handsomely. 
 
 After this performance, they came down from the rampart — 
 joined the other prisoners, and went noiselessly to see what 
 was the state of the guard-house. The wine had operated 
 perfectly. There was not a soul in the guard-house. Thus 
 they had nothing to do but to take the muskets and cartridges 
 at their leisure. They now went to the canoe. The draw- 
 bridge had not been raised, and the exit was easy. With the 
 canoe, they found the pilot. Barthelemy, who was old and 
 weak in every sense of the word, fell into the river, but it was 
 near the edge, and the pilot pulled him into the boat. They 
 then cut the rope, and let themselves go down the stream. 
 
 No man knows the intenseness, variety, or agony of emotion 
 of which the human heart is capable, who has not been in situ- 
 ations resembling this. Every step treading upon death ; a 
 moment, the turning of a hair, a breath, making the difference 
 between the bitterest suffering, and escape into light, and air, 
 and freedom, and the prospect of long enjoyment. In leaving 
 their dungeon, they might actually look upon themselves as 
 rescued from their grave. Yet the bark of a dog, the alarm of 
 a sentinel, a single heavy step, the most trivial of all accidents, 
 might have broken up their whole plan, and fixed them there 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 421 
 
 for ever. Their sensations, as they found themselves gliding 
 down the river of Sinamary, without a sound from the fort, 
 without a symptom of pursuit, without a single ground for be- 
 lieving that they might not yet effect their entire object, and 
 reach Europe and their friends and families, may have been 
 among the keenest that man can bear on this side of insanity. 
 
 But another source of anxiety arose. The redoubt at the 
 river's mouth. It had a garrison of eight soldiers, and a gun 
 from its bastion would sink them in an instant. Luckily the 
 Medoc had made its way there too. The garrison were all 
 drunk, the canoe was not hailed, and no gun was fired. 
 
 They reached the river's mouth, the ocean spread before 
 them ; the moon rose, and her light, which seems to have been 
 intended from the beginning to quiet or to elevate the heart of 
 man, never looked so glorious to them. They felt the light, 
 in this spot of rocks and shallows, as in some degree an inter- 
 position of heaven ; and, if they had not been revolutionists, 
 might at that time have been betrayed into gratitude, and even 
 into prayer. 
 
 They had still an alarm. Two guns were heard from Sin- 
 amary, which were answered by one from the redoubt. But 
 by this time they had gained two hours on the pursuit, and 
 they had nothing to dread but from another little fort, Tracon- 
 bo, and the ocean. At four in the morning, while they were 
 struggling fearfully along, in utter darkness, they were made 
 aware of their passing close under Traconbo, by the discharge 
 of two guns ahead, followed by another close to them. But 
 they were not struck by the shot, they saw nothing from the 
 extreme darkness, and when daylight at last came, Traconbo, 
 with all its terrors, was lying " far o' the lee." 
 
 The weather was fortunately serene, otherwise they must 
 have been lost instantly, for the canoe was so small that every 
 wave rolled into it. No voyagers could have put to sea in a 
 more primitive condition. They had neither compass, nor 
 quadrant, nor bread, nor meat, nor water. Their whole stock 
 amounted to two bottles of rum ! For three days they thus 
 sailed along, until they were almost starved ; on the third day 
 they were totally becalmed. The air was fire, the very ocean 
 scorched them, like a mirror reflecting the burning beams of 
 the sun. They gave themselves up for lost. They had no ex- 
 pectation but that of festering in the spot where they were thus 
 chained by the elements. It was at this time that they employ- 
 ed their leisure in making solemn vows never to avenge them- 
 selves on their country, and never to retaliate their injuries on 
 
 3G 
 
422 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 individuals. All swore in the presence of heaven never to 
 take arms against France. This was perhaps one of the most 
 characteristic displays of their whole captivity. The vow may 
 have been all that was wise and becoming ; but it was made 
 on.y after they had attained the full conviction that they were 
 come to their last hour. An oath against public vengeance, 
 made by a boatfull of fugitives, in the last extremities of famine 
 on the ocean, and utterly in despair of life, was surely melo- 
 dramatic and French. But, live or die, a Frenchman is always 
 on the stage. 
 
 But a breeze came next day, and swept them on, ' though 
 much bewildered by the currents, and kept in continual terror 
 by a whole host of sharks, which already marked them for their 
 prey, and continued all day splashing and bounding round their 
 canoe. On the fifth day, they reached Fort Orange ; but here 
 they were put in a new peril, which might have extinguished 
 them at once. 
 
 The vigilance of the Dutch artillerymen received their little 
 vessel with a fire of heavy guns loaded with ball, any one of 
 which would have sent ship and freight to the bottom in a 
 moment. This display of hostility was scarcely necessary to 
 a solitary canoe, with a few half-naked and more than half-dy- 
 ing men. It drove off the invasion, however. The canoe put 
 out, and sailed, in the hope that at Mont Krick, a settlement 
 higher up the coast, the artillerymen would be less vigilant, or 
 less frightened. But Mont Krick they were not destined to 
 reach so easily; the clouds suddenly lowered, the wind rose, 
 the waves swelled, a storm came on, which, if it had found 
 them in any other part of their voyage, must have closed their 
 history in this world. Berwick, their pilot, now turned his 
 prow to the shore ; it was repulsive ; an interminable forest ; 
 but at sea they must perish. A huge billow rolled them in, 
 upset their canoe, threw out their arms and themselves, and 
 left them in the mire. It was only by main force that they 
 held their vessel from going back again upon the billow. They 
 were now on shore ; but without arms or ammunition to pro- 
 tect them from the Indians, the tigers, or the Dutchmen. They 
 were in rags, covered with mud, tortured by reptiles and in- 
 sects innumerable, and without a morsel. The storm came on 
 heavier still. The night was a dreadful conflict of the elements, 
 with every intermission of the storm filled up by the roaring of 
 the sea, and the screams of tigers. The rain fell in a deluge, 
 the wind tore through the forest with the force of cannon-balls; 
 and during the whole storm, they were compelled to remain 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 423 
 
 knee-deep, or neck-deep, in the waves, holding fast their canoe, 
 on which alone they depended for reaching- any habitable spot, 
 and which was continually on the point of being carried off by 
 the surges. In addition, half-naked as they were, they found 
 the cold piercing. Such was a night under the equator. 
 
 Morning dawned, and it never dawned more welcome. The 
 storm subsided; and Pichegru, who had preserved his meer- 
 scham and tinder-box, lighted a fire, which cheered their frozen 
 bodies, and dried their clothes. Their only resource against 
 the bites of the insects was to lie down on their faces in the 
 sand. 
 
 After a second night of misery, storm and perpetual terror 
 of the tigers, which now bore down from the forest, and were 
 to be prevented from eating the whole party only by incessant 
 watching, and keeping up a large fire, morning came again, 
 and Ramel crept out to examine the state of the weather. His 
 mission was productive. He saw, some hundred yards off, the 
 welcome sight of two men, and running back to tell the glad 
 tidings, Berwick, the pilot, advanced alone, bidding the others 
 hide themselves, that they might not alarm the strangers. On 
 coming near them, they probably took him for a wild beast, for 
 his appearance, from rags, hunger, and the frightful havoc that 
 the insects had made of his features, was scarcely human. The 
 two men immediately presented muskets at him ; but his ges- 
 tures and supplications soon satisfied them that he was no very 
 formidable assailant. The fugitives all now came forward, 
 and Pichegru, entering into conversation with them in German, 
 learned that they were two German soldiers of the garrison 
 of Mont Krick, and that the fort was but three leagues distant. 
 They were now going on duty to Fort Orange, and Barthelemy 
 and Larue were sent along with them, to exhibit their pass- 
 ports, and without acknowledging who they were, obtain wftat 
 assistance they could from the humanity of the Dutch. They 
 reached the fort. The governor was civil, but cautious. He- 
 sent them some workmen to repair their boat, and then ordered 
 them to make their way to sea as fast as possible. 
 
 They next tried Mont Krick, where the governor had either 
 less caution or more benevolence. They found a clear and 
 spacious room opened for them at the water side, and some 
 fowls, bread, and rice, their first civilized meal for many a 
 month, and were all delighted. They now appeared before 
 the officer commanding the fort. It was sufficiently clear that 
 he did not believe the story of their being ruined merchants. 
 He even told thdn that he had a description of the persons ol 
 
424 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 the French fugitives from Sinamary behind the mirror in his 
 room, which Jeannet had actively spread through all the stations, 
 and showed it to them ; but without exhibiting any undue sus- 
 picion that they were the individuals. He made a vague in* 
 quiry for Pichegru, Barthelemy, and the " rest of the unfor- 
 tunate persons," and was contented with the vague answer, thai 
 "they had been in great misery, but now hoped for a change 
 of fortune." The Dutchman bore his office meekly. 
 
 This good-natured and sensible man, in the conversation 
 which followed, assigned the cause of the severe vigilance 
 which the government was forced to exert. " The French colo- 
 nies had all been turned into scenes of massacre or bankrupt- 
 cy, by the republican folly of telling the negroes that they were 
 as good as their masters. The planters were butchered or 
 ruined, and the negroes were left to murder each other or starve, 
 or be slaughtered in the attempt to put them down again. From 
 all this sanguinary absurdity, the Dutch colonies had kept clear 
 by shutting out the doctrine of negro equality. The slaves 
 here," said the officer, " are better treated, more industrious, and 
 more happy, than if they had received the fatal gift of liberty. 
 But the French governor in Cayenne, through displeasure at 
 our refusing some unreasonable demands for money or provi- 
 sions, has declared that ' he will revenge himself on those aris- 
 tocrats, and revolutionize Surinam ;' and hence, the command- 
 ants along the coast had orders to watch narrowly all the French 
 who landed in the colony." They were still entertained by these 
 hospitable people, when a Dutch officer of rank arrived from 
 Paramaribo to lead them to the governor of the colony. The 
 officer was shocked at their condition, for they were dreadfully 
 disfigured by the insects, and were still almost without clothes or 
 shoes. " In their own style, he embraced them all, and further 
 cheered them by the intelligence that the governor was well dis- 
 posed towards them ; that he was even anxious for their arrival, 
 and that the w r hole colony sympathized in their misfortunes." 
 On this all the Frenchmen burst into the national tribute of tears. 
 
 They now set out on their journey to the seat of government, 
 having first enjoyed a regular dinner, and the still higher lux 
 ury of shirts, shoes, and sound clothes. At this indulgence, 
 which, undoubtedly, might have excited gratitude in any one, 
 the Frenchmen were flung into absolute raptures. The rap- 
 tures were increased, if possible, by their treatment on the road. 
 They spent their first night at the plantation of a hospitable 
 friend of the governor, who, though he was prevented by some 
 business from being at home, gave them the freedom ot his 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 425 
 
 Handsome house. They were enchanted. His " gardens, his 
 Jarge rooms, his verandas, his table, his elegant furniture, ano 
 still more his comfortable beds," were topics for ever. All 
 was magical. They exclaimed, " It was Elysium after Tarta- 
 rus !" This day of festivity closed with a carousal of the negroes 
 of the estate, who, oppressed as they were, danced merrily after 
 the general supper. 
 
 All henceforth was a triumphal entry. They re-embarked 
 in their two handsome gondolas, and dropped down the river 
 towards Surinam, all astonishment at the " richness of the plan- 
 tations on its banks, the neatness of the canals, the beauty of 
 the gardens, and the stateliness of the buildings ;" unvisited as 
 they had been by the voice of universal liberty, and unstained 
 by the blood of a king. 
 
 On their way still further down, they were met by a party 
 of the principal planters, who gave them another feast ; and, on 
 resuming their voyage again, they met, just as the sun was 
 plunging his golden visage deep down into the endless forests 
 of the west, a splendid gondola conveying the governor, who 
 had come out to give them the more honorable reception. The 
 Dutchman's speech was polite in the extreme. " Welcome, 
 gentlemen, welcome all of you ; forget, if possible, your mis- 
 fortunes. I shall do every thing in my power to efface them 
 from your memories. We are all happy to see you ; the whole 
 colony, and myself in particular, are at your command." The 
 speech was worthy of Amadis de Gaul himself. But wherever 
 the honest Dutchman learned the tone, it had the better distinc- 
 tion of being followed up by active good-nature. 
 
 The colonists went hand in hand with their honest govern- 
 or in hospitality, the town was illuminated, the garrison and 
 the colonial militia were under arms, and the fugitives landed 
 under the universal discharge of musketry and cannon from 
 the town and the ships. All was huzzaing, embracing, and 
 feasting. They were lodged in the governor's house, and from 
 that time invited in all directions ; carried from estate to estate, 
 and feted, fed, embraced, and congratulated every where. The 
 governor made no troublesome inquiries. His guests were 
 still ruined merchants, and he was merely exercising the com- 
 mon civilities due to every body. But in the midst of this in 
 curious life of pleasantness, news came from Cayenne. A ves 
 sel arrived with a letter from the governor, in the following 
 terms. After stating the escape of the exiles : " If those gen- 
 tlemen xiave not been taken by the English privateers, or if 
 they have not perished, as I fear they have they must have 
 30 36* 
 
426 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 taken refuge in your colony. In that case, it 13 my duty lo 
 
 claim them, in the name of the directory, as prisoners of state. 
 Should you be able to discover them, I request, and even re- 
 quire, you to put them under arrest. But I entreat you to use 
 no violence towards them, and to grant them all the kindness 
 due to their misfortunes." < 
 
 The governor of Surinam had already obeyed the better part 
 of the recommendation, and was not disposed to follow the 
 Frenchman's flourish, by sending them back to him to die. He 
 coolly answered, that " he knew nothing of any state prisoners, 
 but that eight shipwrecked merchants and a sailor, with pass- 
 ports sigsied by the governor of Cayenne, had arrived some 
 days before ; that when he should be acquainted with the arri- 
 val of the fugitives alluded to, he should be prepared to deal 
 with them as was proper ; and that he had the honor to inclose 
 the passports for the inspection of the governor of Cayenne !" 
 The captain of this vessel brought also the intelligence, that 
 republican freedom was going on from triumph to triumph in 
 France ; and in unanswerable proof, stated that a consignment 
 of obnoxious politicians, to the amount of 193, found guilty of 
 difference of opinion, had reached Cayenne in the frigate La 
 Decade, three days after their escape. 
 
 But Jeannet was determined to have his prey, and a second 
 letter arrived within ten days, stating, that though the passports 
 by some means or other, bore his own signature, yet that no mer- 
 chants of the names of Gallois, Picard, &c. &c, had ever been 
 in Cayenne ; that he had certain knowledge that the fugitives 
 were at that moment in Paramaribo ; and that he insisted on their 
 arrest, or would represent the whole affair to the government. 
 
 This was a formidable menace, and the exiles, in order to 
 prevent embarrassment to their friend, offered to hide themselves 
 until they could find a vessel going to St. Thomas's. The 
 Dutchman, however, manfully objected to this precaution, 
 11 which," he said, " he should consider as a weakness." Still, 
 it was evidently the wiser plan to prevent national quarrels, if 
 it could be done by leaving Surinam ; and within a few days 
 they embarked on board a commodious vessel, prodigally sup- 
 plied with all good uihgs by the honest colonists. Here they 
 took leave of the pilot, who had served them to so much pur- 
 pose, and who was loaded with donatives by the governor and 
 the people. He returned immediately to Philadelphia. The 
 next scene was the parting from their Dutch friends, who fol- 
 lowed them down to the vessel's side. The singular kindness 
 with which they had been treated. Justified every expression of 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. *27 
 
 thanks, but the French disfigured the sincerity of the scene, aa 
 usual, by "bursting into tears." Their last sight of Surinam 
 was on the 30th of June. 
 
 Their voyage was not without its alarms, for the seas swarm- 
 ed with Victor Hague's privateers; and, in his hands, they 
 would have fallen into the hands of one of the most infamous 
 tyrants that was ever shaped by the education of a negro over- 
 seer, still more envenomed by unbounded republicanism. One 
 of these privateers drove them, fortunately for themselves, un- 
 der the guns of Berbice, then in possession of our troops. 
 Here they were prisoners on parole, but received with much 
 attention ; conveyed by Colonel Hislop, since Sir Thomas, to 
 Berbice, and there put on board of one of our frigates for Eu- 
 rope. The voyage gave them a new experimental knowledge 
 of the life of a sailor. They were attacked by the yellow 
 fever, were tossed through a dozen degrees of latitude by the 
 equinoctial storms, in which some ships of the convoy were 
 lost, and the passage lasted sixty-four days. But on the 20th 
 of September, they were in the channel, and saw the French 
 coast. Of course, they were all 'over flowing with sentiment; 
 some gave themselves over to " melancholy ;" there was an 
 abundance of speeches, " serious reflections," and astonishment 
 " that the land by which they were sailing could no longer be 
 called their country." 
 
 On the passage they had been transferred to the Amiable 
 frigate, Captain Granville Lobb, who, with his officers treated 
 them with the characteristic good nature of British sailors. 
 They were now ordered to London, where they had some in- 
 terviews with Mr. Wickham, secretary in the Duke of Portland's 
 office, relative to the French affairs. On one of these occa- 
 sions, a man who had been sitting in a dark corner of the apart- 
 ment, recognized and spoke to them. " You are saved," said 
 he ; " then all my misfortunes are forgotten." He was so much 
 reduced by ill health, that they could scare 3iy recollect their 
 friend the American captain. " I am Tilly," said he, " and you, 
 too, are so much altered, that I could not have known you, but 
 from hearing your names." The alteration, it may be presumed, 
 under the regimen of Dutch hospitality, reinforced by the Eng- 
 lish table, was of the more favorable kind. 
 
 Tilly's narrative still had some interest for them. Within 
 three days after their escape, the frigate La Decade had brought 
 her living freight of disappointed statesmanship to shore, 
 cargo of 193 popular members, liberal authors, citizen priests, 
 and journalists, each of them worthy to have founded a re] tub 
 
42S HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 lie. So prodigious an influx of politics at once, frightened 
 Jeannet for the stabiHty of his place; and, probably with the 
 actual intention of providing for the future, he called the cap- 
 tain into his councils, and began a conversation with him on 
 the purchase of his vessel for a flight to Philadelphia. The 
 escape of the exiles happened to be mentioned ; and the captain 
 in his hour of confidence, unwarily acknowledged at fuL length 
 his share in the transaction, and even that he had the correspond- 
 ence from France still barreled up in his hold. A new light 
 seems to have flashed upon the governor ; he may have thought 
 that the seizure of this correspondence, which was connected 
 with Royalisme in France, would establish him with the di- 
 rectory for ever. He instantly started up, threw down the 
 table between them, called to the guard, and ordered the unlucky 
 confidant to be put in irons, preparatory to being shot next day. 
 But cooler deliberation told him that the captain's death would 
 not bring him so much advantage as his shooting an American 
 citizen must bring him trouble ; a remonstrance to the direc- 
 tory, which might vacate his government, and a frigate from 
 the United States, which might carry himself off to be hanged by 
 the populace at Philadelphia, would be consequences which it 
 became the Frenchman's prudence to avoid. But he could 
 still tyrannize, and the American was thrown into a dungeon, 
 ironed hands and feet, and kept there on bread and water 
 through the months of June and July, under the equator. Yet 
 the tenuity of this regimen may have saved his life in this hor- 
 rible confinement. He was at length sent on board the Decade 
 on her return to France, to be dealt with according to the plea- 
 sure of the directory, a pleasure which would probably have 
 sent him to perish in the ditch of some provincial fortress. But 
 a better fate awaited him. The Decade was met on her way 
 by a n English frigate, which attacked and took her. Captain 
 Pierepoint, the commander of the English ship, immediately 
 liberated the American, and sent him to London, where he was 
 at this time receiving assistance from the government, which 
 enabled him shortly after to reach his own country. 
 
 DEATH OF HOFER. 
 
 It will be reconected that in the year 1809, nearly the whoie 
 population of the Tyrol rose in arms, and fairly drove the 
 French troops out of their country. This levy en masse was 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 429 
 
 headed by Andreas Hofer, the landlord of a village public-house. 
 Hofer was then forty-two years of age, " a frank-hearted, pious 
 man, tall in stature, with black eyes and beard, of a soft voice 
 and disposition ; whom a vehement love of his country convert- 
 ed from a quiet rustic into a hero." 
 
 Bonaparte sent Marshal Lefevre, Duke of Dantzig, with a 
 strong body of troops, to crush this insurrection. The insurgents 
 by retreating before him, drew Lefevre into their mountain fast- 
 nesses ; and there, where they had the disciplined French army 
 at advantage, the peasant-general and his half-armed volunteers 
 attacked, and after much hard fighting, so thoroughly defeated 
 them, that the French veterans fled, and the Tyrol was again 
 free. In these battles a ten-year-old boy busied himself in dig- 
 ging up the balls that lodged in the ground, and carrying them 
 in his little hat to the combatants ; to whom young girls brought 
 provisions amid the hottest fire. 
 
 When the misfortunes of the campaign constrained Francis 
 to purchase peace by the crudest sacrifices, abandoning the 
 Tyrol, he invited Hofer and his principal associates to Vienna, to 
 secure them from French vengeance. These devoted patriots 
 would not leave their beloved country in her distress, and resolved 
 to attempt the preservation of their connection with Austria, even 
 without Austrian help. One of their leaders, the priest Pater 
 Joachim, blessed their endeavors. Again Lefevre was sent 
 against them, and again was so roughly handled, that upon one 
 occasion, we are told, he climbed over his own carriage to escape, 
 and fled, disguised as a common soldier. Hofer and Pater 
 Joachim now led their little band of 8,000 peasants to defy the 
 French marshal and his 25,000 soldiers before Inspruck, and 
 again were victorious. Lefevre evacuated Inspruck by night, 
 having lost 14,000 men within a fortnight, and on the 15th of 
 August, Bonaparte's birth-day, the Tyrolese re-entered their 
 emancipated capital. The gratified emperor of Austria sent Hofer 
 a gold chain of honor, and to the Pater the ecclesiastical order 
 of merit. 
 
 For two months the Tyrol was free ; but could it hope to re- 
 main so ? Before the end of October, French troops poured in 
 from all sides, under various generals. Baraguay d'Hilliers 
 and Eugene Beauharnais, respecting or fearing these brave and 
 desperate men, invited them to submit, offering a general am- 
 nesty, redress of grievances, and a strict administration of jus- 
 tice, on condition of the insurgents laying down their arms. 
 The Arch-duke John assured Hofer that the emperor, unable to 
 assist them, wished them to comply ; and Hofer thereupon accept* 
 
43* HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 ed the terms, entreating- a few days' delay of the French advance 
 to allow time for the peasants to disperse to their several homes. 
 But pending this negotiation with Eugene, the French troops 
 advanced, stormed a strong pass, and seized a fortified post upon 
 Brenner mountain. Indignant at this breach of faith, Hofer 
 again called his comrades to the field, and about the middle of 
 November fell upon Ruska and Barbou, who, with their detach- 
 ments, were endeavoring to force their way into the Passeyer 
 thai. The French were repulsed with the loss of 1,500 men 
 and an eagle. But now Baraguay d'Hilliers brought rip his 
 whole force, and the contest was inevitably over. Some of the 
 leaders made their escape to Vienna. Hofer concealed himself 
 with his wife and children, in an Alpine hut in the snowy wil- 
 derness amidst barren rocks. The Emperor Francis sent mes- 
 sengers to urge his escaping to Austria ; but his wife and chil- 
 dren could not have accompanied his flight, and Hofer would 
 not save his life at the price of deserting them. 
 
 " Pater Donay of Schlanders, who had latterly been Hofer's 
 unworthy confidant, now became his Judas. He discovered his 
 retreat in the snowy wilderness, and betrayed it to the French 
 commander. Bonaparte in return made the wretch imperial 
 chaplain at the shrine of Our Lady of Loretto, and Murat loaded 
 him with praises and presents. At midnight Baraguay d'Hilliers 
 dispatched 1,500 foot and 100 horse, to seize a single man. At 
 dawn, on the 20th of January, 1810, the guide knocked at the 
 hut door. Hofer opened it, and seeing who his visitors were, 
 said • I am Andreas Hofer, and in your hands ; kill me, but spare 
 my wife and children, who have no share in my conduct.' The 
 French then rushed upon him, loaded him with chains, and drag- 
 ged him, with his wife and children, to Botzen. Wherever 
 they passed the Bonapartists stood in rows, singing merry songs, 
 and unable to control their joy at having another honest man 
 in their claws. But Hofer was calm and serene, and in affecting 
 accents asked pardon of all whom he fancied he might have of- 
 fended. At Botzen he was freed from his chains, many French- 
 men taking his part, and alleging that he had treated his prison- 
 ers with admirable humanity. One man gave him a snuff-box 
 adorned with the heads of the Duke of Brunswick, Schill, and 
 himself. Hofer looked at his own portrait and sighed ' Yes, 
 such I was.' Here too he tasted a pang bitterer than death. 
 His family were separated from him, and sent back into the 
 countrjr. He himself was hurried to Mantua." 
 
 At Mantua Hofer was tried by a court martial, and sentenced 
 to death, with a haste designed to prevent the interposition of 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 431 
 
 the Emperor Francis, whose daughter Napoleon was then woo- 
 ing. On his way to the place of execution he gave a last cheer to 
 his beloved sovereign, and distributed some trifles as keepsakes. 
 
 " He then stepped into the circle of his executioners. They 
 offered him a handkerchief to tie over his eyes, and bade him 
 kneel down. With a noble soldiery pride he refused to do 
 either, saying, ' I stand before my Creator, and standing I will 
 return my immortal spirit into his hand.' He then presented the 
 corporal with his last gold coin, begging him to see that his men 
 took good aim, and again exclaimed, ' alas ! my unhappy coun- 
 try !' He then boldly gave the word ' fire.' But the miserable 
 French marksmen did not fire true. The first six shots only 
 brought the martyr upon his knees. The next six stretched him 
 upon the ground, but did not end his sufferings. The corporal 
 then stepped up to him, put the muzzle of his piece close to his 
 head, and shattered it at the thirteenth shot. Thus was Hofer 
 massacred by the French, as Palm had been before him. 
 
 " The Emperor Francis, who could not save Hofer, took 
 charge of those he left behind him, made considerable presents to 
 the widow and daughters, and educated the only son. In 1813, 
 before Austria had joined the alliance, John Hofer, then barely 
 fourteen years old, entered into the corps of Lutzen Volunteer 
 sharp shooters, and fought gallantly against the destroyers of 
 his father and his country." 
 
 The following letter of Hofer, written on the morning of 
 his execution, is copied from the London Literary Gazette : 
 
 " Dear Sir and Brother, — It has been the divine will that I 
 should exchange here in Mantua temporary existence for eter 
 nal life ; but God be thanked for his divine mercy : it has appear 
 ed as easy to me, as if I were to be led out to something else. 
 God will also grant me this mercy till the last moment, that I 
 may get where my soul will eternally rejoice with all the elect; 
 where I shall also pray to God for all, especially for those to 
 whom I owe it most to pray for, and for you and your dear lady, 
 on account of the little book and other kind deeds ; and I beg 
 that all surviving friends may pray for me, and help me out of 
 the hot flames, if I have still to do penance in purgatory. My 
 dearest or the hostess, is to have the worship solemnized at St. 
 Martin's, and pray by the rose-colored blood in both parishes. 
 Our friends are to have soup and meat, with an einder halber* 
 of wine, at the house of father-host. 
 
 * Halber is a measure used in the Tyrol, Hungary, and parts of Austntv 
 equal to about a bottle. Einder seems a mistake in the original. 
 
432 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 11 Dear Mr. Pukhler, do go in for me and announce the mat 
 ter to father-host at St. Martin ; he will no doubt make arrange 
 ments ; and do not ma-ke any one else participator in the matter. 
 
 " Fare all well in the world, till we meet in heaven, and there 
 praise God. May all the people of Passeyer, and all acquaint- 
 ances remember me in holy prayers ; and the hostess is not to 
 grieve too much. I shall pray to God for all. 
 
 " Adieu, my worthless world ! death appears to me so easy 
 that I cannot shed a tear. Written at five o'clock in the morn- 
 ing, and at nine o'clock I shall travel, with the help of all saints, 
 to God. Mantua, 20th February, 1810. 
 
 u Thine, loved in life, Andrew Hofer, of Sand, in Passeyer. 
 In the name of the Lord will I also undertake the journey with 
 God." 
 
 KOSCIUSKO. 
 
 [From a European Publication.] 
 
 Kosciusko became first known by history in the war which 
 preceded the second partition. On one occasion, the division 
 under his command withstood an army three times their number, 
 and after much slaughter made an honorable retreat. From this 
 day the Poles marked him out as a great leader ; and when the 
 intrigues of the aristocracy, and the weakness of the king, left 
 the only real affairs of the country in the hands of the patriots, 
 he became their head, and was declared Generalissimo and 
 Dictator. 
 
 " His power was absolute : he had the command of the armies, 
 and the regulation of all affairs, political and civil. He was 
 commissioned, however, to appoint a national council, the choice 
 being left to his own will. He was also empowered to nominate 
 a successor, but he was to be subordinate to the national council. 
 
 " Never before," says Mr. Fletcher, " was confidence so fully 
 and so scrupulously reposed by a nation in a single individual, 
 and never were expectations better grounded than in the present 
 instance. Thaddeus Kosciusko was born of a noble but not 
 very illustrious Lithuanian family, and was early initiated in the 
 science of war at the military school of Warsaw. In his youth 
 his affections were firmly engaged to a young lady, the daugh- 
 ter of the Marshal of Lithuania, but it was his fate to see his 
 love crossed, and his inamorato married to another, Prince Lu- 
 bornirski. He then went to France, and on his return applied 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 433 
 
 to Stanislaus for a military appointment, but was refused be- 
 cause he was a favorite of Adam Czartoryski, whom Stanislaus 
 hated. Ko«~iusko sought to dispel his disappointment in the 
 laoors of war. The British colonies of America were men 
 throwing- off the yoke of their unnatural mother country — their 
 cause was that of justice and liberty, and one dear to the heart 
 of a young- proud-spirited Pole. Our young hero served in the 
 patriotic ranks of Gates and Washington, and was appointed 
 aid-de-camp to the latter great general. When the glorious 
 struggle in the new world was crowned with success, he returned 
 to his own country, where he found an equally glorious field for 
 his exertions." 
 
 It is delightful to see Kosciusko issuing out of the same vo- 
 luntary fires of experience and the love of liberty as Lafayette, 
 and serving in the ranks of Washington ! Good and great men 
 help to make others. Washington in the plains of America, 
 was fighting the future battles of France and Poland ; the old 
 generals of the latter countries were his ensigns and his aides- 
 de-camp. 
 
 It is not our intention to go through the particulars of Kosci- 
 usko's campaigns. We must refer for those to his history. Our 
 object is to lay before our readers the moral of his life ; and 
 therefore it will be sufficient to say, that no man behaved better 
 than he did, either as a general or a statesman. It was not only 
 in one battle, that he fought against multitudes ; it was his cus- 
 tom. The invaders were astonished at seeing a man with a com- 
 parative handful of followers, armed with the first things that 
 came to hand, perpetually re-appearing in different quarters, some- 
 times retreating like a wounded lion, sometimes overthrowing 
 them with a bloody slaughter, at all times apparently invincible, 
 even when vanquished. And nothing could be more just than 
 his civil government. He repressed abuses ; he would have no 
 injustice, even against the cruel enemy; he acted always upon 
 the noblest and purest principles, the only real strength of a good 
 cause ; and he showed in his own person and manners the mo- 
 desty and tranquillity of it. Count Oginski, one of his fellow- 
 patriots, in giving a narrative of his interview with him in his 
 camp near Warsaw, where he was awaiting the Russians and 
 Prussians, found him sleeping upon straw. He dined with al- 
 most equal simplicity : 
 
 " We passed," says the count, " from Kosciusko's tent to a 
 table prepared under some trees. The frugal repast which we 
 made here, among about a dozen guests, will never be eflSaced 
 from my memory. The presence of this great man, who has 
 
 37 
 
434 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 excited the admiration of all Europe ; who was the terror of hit 
 enemies and the idol of the nation ; who, raised to the rank of 
 generalissimo, had no ambition but to serve his country and 
 fight for it ; who always preserved an unassuming, affable, and 
 mild demeanor; who never wore any distinguished mark of 
 the supreme authority with which he was invested; who was 
 contented with a surtout of coarse gray cloth, and whose table 
 was as plainly furnished as that of a subaltern officer ; could 
 not fail to awaken in me every sentiment of esteem, admiration 
 and veneration, which I have sincerely felt for him at every 
 period of my life." 
 
 The enemy failed before Warsaw; and had the other nobles 
 been as noble as this great man, and felt as truly in the cause ot 
 freedom, all might have gone well ; but he was one of that ad- 
 vanced guard of martyrs, who of necessity make their appear- 
 ance when their example is of more future than immediate value ; 
 and for a time, numbers and iniquity prevailed. 
 
 Suwarrow, the Empress of Russia's fanatical slaughter-man, 
 had arrived in Poland at the head of an immense multitude, to 
 overpower the little bands of patriots. He had laid open the 
 road to Warsaw by a defeat of one of them ; and Poland has- 
 tened to fight another Russian general, before Suwarrow and he 
 should effect a junction. 
 
 " The 10th of October (1794) was the decisive day ; Kosciusko 
 attacked Fersen, near Macieiowice. The battle was bloody and 
 fatal to the patriots ; victory was wavering, and Poninski, who 
 was expected every minute with a reinforcement, not arriving, 
 Kosciusko, at the head of his principal officers, made a grand 
 charge into the midst of the enemy. He fell covered with 
 wounds, and all his companions were killed or taken prisoners. 
 His inseparable friend, the amiable poet, Niemcewicz, was among 
 the latter number. The great man lay senseless among the 
 dead; but at length he was recognized, notwithstanding the 
 plainness of his jniform, and was found still breathing. His 
 name even now commanded respect from the Cossacks, some of 
 whom had been going to plunder him ; they immediately formed 
 a litter with their lances, to carry him to their general, who or- 
 dered his wounds to be dressed, and treated him with the respect 
 he merited. As soon as he was able to travel, he was conveyed 
 to Petersburgh, where Catharine condemned this noble patriot 
 to end his days in prison. Clemency, indeed, was not to be ex- 
 pected from a woman who had murdered her husband. 
 
 - Such was the termination of Kosciusko's glorious career. 
 The news of his captivity spread like lightning to Warsaw, and 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 435 
 
 every one received it as the announcement of the country's fall. 
 It may appear incredible," says Count Oginski, "but I can at- 
 test what I have seen, and what a number of witnesses can cer- 
 tify with me, that many Avomen miscarried at the tidings ; many 
 invalids were seized with burning fevers ; some fell into fits of 
 madness which never afterwards left them ; and men and women 
 were seen in the streets wringing their hands, beating their 
 heads against the walls, and exclaiming in tones of despair, 
 4 Kosciusko is no more; the country is lost !' " 
 
 The poet may well have exclaimed, in his fine line, that 
 
 " Freedom shriek'd when Kosciusko fell." 
 
 Suwarrow, having effected his junction with Fersen, proceeded 
 to Warsaw, which, after dreadful work in the suburb of Praga, 
 capitulated. The garrison in Praga was composed of the flower 
 of the Polish army, now of no avail, since Kosciusko was gone, 
 
 " Eight thousand Poles perished sword in hand, and the Rus- 
 sians having set fire to the bridge, cut off the retreat of the in- 
 habitants. Above 12,000 towns-people, old men, women, and 
 children, were murdered in cold blood, and to fill the measure of 
 the iniquity and barbarity, the Russians fired the place in four 
 different parts, and in a few hours the whole of Praga, inhabit- 
 ants as well as houses, was a heap of ashes. 
 
 " The council, finding that Warsaw could not be defended 
 any longer, capitulated on the 6th of November ; many of the 
 soldiers were obliged to lay down their arms, and the Russian 
 troops entered the city. The authors of the revolution, the 
 generals and soldiers who refused to disarm, had quitted War- 
 saw, but being pursued by Fersen, many were killed or dis- 
 persed, and the rest surrendered on the 18th. 
 
 " All the patriots of consequence, who fell into the hands of 
 the Russians, were immured in the prisons of Petersburgh, or 
 sent to Siberia. Ignatius Potocki, Mostowski, Kapustas, and 
 Kalinski, were among the captives. Their treatment, however, 
 was not so cruel as it has been frequently represented ; Koscius- 
 ko's prison, for instance, was a comfortable suit of rooms, 
 where he beguiled his time with reading and drawing ; Potocki 
 was equally well lodged, and amused himself with gazing at 
 the passers by from his windows. This was not, indeed, an ex* 
 act observance of the article of capitulation, ' We promise a 
 general amnesty for all that is passed,' but it was the very acme 
 of honor, compared with the general tenor of Russia's conduct 
 towards Poland." 
 
 The third infamous partition now took place. Kosciusko re- 
 
436 HISTOFICAL CABINET. 
 
 mamed in prison till the death of Catharine, and then came to 
 England on his way to America. The king accepted a Russian 
 pension, and on the death of the same empress, went to Peters- 
 burgh, " where he ended," says the historian, " his unhappy 
 and dishonorable life." 
 
 While the immortal Pole was in durance, we learn from Pe- 
 ter Pindar's works, that he became acquainted with the writings 
 of that facetious person, and expressed himself much pleased 
 with them ; which Peter, after his style of self-gratulation, justly 
 makes a boast of. George III. was no friend to the Poles, or to 
 Washington ; and Kosciusko perhaps was not disagreeably sur- 
 prised to find at what a low pitch that monarch's understanding 
 was rated by the satirist. 
 
 Dr. Warner, in his " Literary Recollections," not long since 
 published, has given the following account of an interview with 
 him at Bristol, which Mr. Fletcher quotes in the work before us : 
 
 " I never contemplated," says the doctor, "a more interesting 
 human figure than Kosciusko stretched upon his couch. His 
 wounds were still unhealed, and he was unable to sit upright. 
 He appeared to be a small man, spare and delicate. A black 
 silk bandage, crossed his fair and high, but somewhat wrinkled 
 forehead. Beneath it, his dark eagle eye sent forth a stream of 
 light, that indicated the steady flame of patriotism which still 
 burned within his soul ; unquenched by disaster and wounds, 
 weakness, poverty, and exile. Contrasted with its brightness 
 was the paleness of his countenance, and the wan cast of every 
 feature. He spoke very tolerable English, though in a low and 
 feeble tone ; but his conversation, replete with fine sense, lively 
 remark, and sagacious answers, evinced a noble understanding, 
 and a cultivated mind. On rising to depart, I offered him my 
 hand ; he took it. My eyes filled with tears ; and he gave it a 
 warm grasp. I muttered something about 'brighter prospects 
 and happier days !' He faintly smiled and said, (they were his 
 last words to me,) ' Ah, Sir, he who devotes himself for his 
 country, must not look for his reward on this side the grave.' " 
 
 The public have been made familiar with the appearance of 
 Kosciusko on his couch, by several prints of him in that condi- 
 tion, one of those from a picture by the late Mr. West. We 
 have heard Mrs. West describe Avith enthusiasm the effect which 
 the sight of him had upon her, and the additional grace thrown 
 upon it by the entrance of the late Duke of Bedford into the 
 room, in all the bloom of his rank and good looks. This was 
 Francis, Duke of Bedford, whose statue is in the square. He 
 ipproached Kosciusko, she said, with all the deference of a 
 
Kosciusko rebuking the Soldiers.— Page 43f. 
 
 Escape of Lavulettc. — Page -Alti. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 437 
 
 courtier, and bending towards him as he reclined, took his hand 
 and kissed it. 
 
 " And what did you think of his grace, when he did that?" 
 asked a gentleman. 
 
 "Think!" cried the enthusiastic old lady; "I felt in love 
 with him." 
 
 But no anecdote of this great man is more touching than the 
 one related by Miss Williams, in her account of the events that 
 took place in France after Napoleon's downfall. From England, 
 Kosciusko went to America, and afterwards to France, whence 
 he finally removed to Switzerland, where he died in 1817, 
 "fuller," says Miss Porter, "of glory than of years." During 
 the occupation of France by the allied troops, some Polish sol 
 diers, in their search after forage, had come upon the grounds ot 
 a farm, the fences of which they were treating with little cere- 
 mony. The occupant of the farm came forward and remon 
 strated. They laughed at him and persisted : but finding them 
 selves more sternly rebuked, and in their own language, they 
 began to consider the man. Suddenly, astonishment seizes upon 
 some of the older ones ; they gaze, they color, the tears come 
 into their eyes; and the word " Kosciusko" bursting from them, 
 the next moment the soldiers are on the ground, prostrating 
 themselves, and kissing the stranger's feet. 
 
 This is one of the most affecting anecdotes we ever met with. 
 
 Kosciusko's inaction, covered as he was with wounds, and 
 conscious that his example could not die, became almost as glo- 
 rious to him as the greatest days of his strength : nor did for- 
 tune refuse him the satisfaction of being able to continue the 
 proofs of his patriotism in the most triumphant manner. He 
 refused to fight either for Napoleon or the allies; he would not 
 lend Napoleon his name ; he had wedded himself to the cause 
 of truth and liberty, and he knew that it was the business of a 
 genuine humanist to set mankind an example of perseverance. 
 He would pave the way neither for Napoleon into Russia, nor 
 for Constantine into Poland. He knew that real regeneration 
 accompanied neither of them, and that a principle maintained in 
 adversity was better in the long run than a cause made equivo- 
 cal in success. 
 
 Kosciusko's noble nature at one time thought it had found 
 something corresponding to it in the character of the Emperor 
 Alexander ; he wrote him a letter requesting him to declare a 
 general amnesty for his countrymen, to make all the serfs free 
 on their returning home, and to become sovereign of an inde- 
 pendent kingdom in Poland. He concluded with expressing a 
 
438 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 wish he could have preceded him thither. He even honored 
 Alexander by asking a favor of him for a friend. The imperial 
 male-coquet of virtue answered the patriot's letter in good holi- 
 day terms, granting all his requests. But this unequal inter- 
 course did not last long. Kosciusko wrote the emperor, who 
 was at Vienna, another letter a year afterwards (June, 1815,) in 
 which he reminded him of certain "magnanimous promises." 
 To this no answer was returned j and Kosciusko expressing to 
 Prince Adam Czartoryski his prophetic anticipations of what 
 afterwards took place, retired to Soleure in Switzerland, where 
 he died on the 16th of October, 1817. His remains were taken 
 to Poland, (we are not told when,) and deposited in the cathedral 
 of Cracow, in the same chapel with those of Sobieski. 
 
 MASSACRE OF THE MAMELUKES, IN 1811. 
 
 This singular people had long considered Egypt as their 
 patrimony, and their obedience to the Turkish viceroy, except 
 when enforced by arms, had long been completely nominal. 
 They were even carrying on an open war against Mahommed 
 Ali, their viceroy and pacha, when the British army, under 
 General Frazier, landed in Egypt. Upon the receipt of this 
 intelligence the pacha concluded a peace with the Mamelukes, 
 as his less dangerous enemies ; and stipulated, in one of the 
 articles of his treaty with them, that the whole corps should 
 come and reside at Cairo. With this condition the greater part 
 of them complied, and under the command of Sciaim Bey fixed 
 their residence at Gizeh, near the capital, but on the opposite 
 side of the Nile ; and the remainder, under the command of 
 Ibrahim Bey, remained in Upper Egypt. 
 
 About this time the Porte entertained considerable alarm on 
 account of the rapid progress of a sect called the Wechabi, 
 who had already obtained possession of Mecca and Medina. 
 Jussuf, pacha of Damascus, had not been able to resist the 
 numbers and enthusiasm of these seceders from the Mahom- 
 medan faith ; and Suliman, pacha of Acre, had in consequence 
 received orders to send the head of Jussuf to Constantinople, 
 and to assume the command of the pachalic of Damascus 
 Jussuf, however, fled to Cairo, where he was hospitably receiv 
 ed by Mahommed Ali, and sheltered from the attempts of his 
 rival ; and the Porte, finding Suliman no better able than Jus- 
 suf to resist the infidels, at length ordered the pacha of Egyp^ 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 439 
 
 to undertake the recovery of the holy cities, and promised to 
 reward him with the governments of Acre and Damascus. 
 This order and promise of the Porte were no sooner known 
 to the pacha of Acre, than he conceived an ardent desire of 
 revenge, and immediately formed a plan of joining his forces 
 with those of tfye Mamelukes, and of attacking Mohammed 
 Ali and a small remnant of his army, which would he left in 
 Egypt after the departure of the expedition against Mecca, 
 under the command of his son. The jealousy and vigilance of 
 the viceroy, however, proved equal to the treachery of his ene- 
 mies. A servant of Sciaim Bey, having been bribed to betray 
 his master, regularly transmitted to the pacha copies of the cor- 
 respondence carried on by the beys in Cairo with those in 
 Upper Egypt, and with Suliman of Acre. The Porte also was 
 duly informed of the designs of the conspirators, and when its 
 final orders arrived the viceroy immediately prepared to put 
 them in execution. 
 
 On his return from Suez to Cairo, Mohammed Ali an- 
 nounced the approaching completion of his preparations against 
 Mecca; and that on the first of March he should celebrate a 
 grand festival on the occasion of investing his son with the 
 pelisse of command, previous to the departure of the expedition ; 
 and all the Mamelukes in Cairo were invited to honor the cere- 
 mony with their presence. The procession was to pass through 
 the private streets of Cairo up to the citadel, where the inves- 
 titure was to take place. The Turkish infantry led the way, 
 and were followed by the Mamelukes on horseback under the 
 command of Sciaim Bey, who was supported by two sons of 
 the viceroy, and the Turkish cavalry followed and closed the 
 procession. The foot soldiers had already entered the interioi 
 of the citadel, and the Mamelukes were passing between the 
 inner and outer wall of the fortress, along a narrow way, in- 
 closed on both sides by high walls and ruinous buildings, when 
 the gates at each extremity of the passage were closed. The 
 viceroy had revealed his intention to no one till this moment, 
 when he ordered his infantry to line the walls which surround- 
 ed the Mamelukes, and to open a heavy fire upon them, though 
 his sons were still mixed with them, and for some time exposed 
 to the same fate. 
 
 The Mamelukes, cooped up in a narrow space, where their 
 equestrian skill, and their unrivaled dexterity in the use of the 
 saber were unavailing, impeded by their own numbers, encum 
 bered by their dresses of ceremony, and surrounded on all sides 
 by a supe-HU* force, were compelled to surrender after a feeble 
 31 
 
440 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 resistance. The wicket of the inner gate was then openec 
 and the Turkish soldiers dragged their victims, one by one, 
 into the court of the citadel, whom they first stripped and then 
 beheaded. Of eight hundred Mamelukes, who were enclosed 
 within the walls, none escaped. 
 
 mallet's extraordinary attempt to overthrow the 
 empire of france. 
 
 The following is from the London Literary Gazette. This 
 extraordinary event took place during the Emperor Napoleon's 
 Russian campaign. 
 
 " The disasters of that campaign are known. While they 
 were going on, the city of Paris witnessed a prodigy such as is 
 often seen on the eve of the great convulsions of nature. What 
 all Europe in arms had not dared to plan for the last twenty 
 years, namely, the conquest of Paris, a single man in prison, 
 without friends, money, or reputation, was bold enough to attempt, 
 and almost succeeded. I had served with Mallet as staff officer 
 in 1793. He was a man of an extraordinary turn of mind; his 
 manners were eccentric, and he was tormented with a deep mel- 
 ancholy, that made him morose and disagreeable to his comrades. 
 The accession of Bonaparte to the throne had displeased him, 
 and he had not attempted to hide his feelings. The loss of his 
 liberty, added to the grief of seeing his career stopped, when so 
 many officers of younger standing than himself rose to the highest 
 rank and acquired great reputation, made him take a part in an 
 ill-conceived conspiracy, consisting of those old remains of brawl- 
 ing Jacobins, who take no counsel but their rage, and have no 
 means of realizing their wretched projects. Mallet was dis- 
 covered; and the particulars of the plot having been laid 
 before the eyes of the emperor, he shrugged up his shoulders 
 through contempt. After some years' imprisonment, Mallet ob- 
 tained leave to remove to one of those private hospitals (maisons 
 de sante) which surround Paris, and which were for the police 
 a sort of seminaries, where they kept, subject to a severe super- 
 vision, all such persons who could not be convicted, but whom, 
 However, it would have been dangerous to set entirely free. We 
 nad remained during twenty-six days without any accounts from 
 *he army. Sinister reports were beginning to circulate, when 
 Mallet, after having combined his plan with the Abbe Constant. 
 a companion of his captivity, found means to get out of prison 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 441 
 
 dressed in a field-marshal's uniform, and went at four o'clock in 
 the morning to the barracks of the Municipal Legion. Having 
 called up the colonel, who was still asleep, he told him with an 
 air of dismay that the emperor was dead ; that the senate was 
 assembled to restore the republican government in France ; and 
 that he, Mallet, who had been appointed commander of Paris, 
 wanted six hundred men of the regiment to go to the H6tel de 
 Ville and protect the senate, that was assembling there. At this 
 fatal news the colonel was at first seized with alarm, and his 
 grief for the death of the emperor made him shed tears. The 
 disorder of his mind did not permit him to reflect on the news 
 he had heard, nor cast his eyes on the suspicious person that 
 stood before him. He ordered the guard to assemble, and, over- 
 whelmed with consternation, left Mallet master of his forces. 
 The name of a republic, which recalled to mind licentiousness, 
 was a counterpoise to the death of the emperor. The most 
 brilliant promises and temptations were held out ; the officers all 
 believed what Mallet chose to tell them. Each soldier was to be 
 rewarded by advancement and double pay ; the officers were to 
 get drafts on the treasury, of twenty and even fifty thousand 
 francs — for Mallet had provided against every difficulty. He 
 soon got together about four hundred men, at whose head he 
 went to seek his accomplices, and the future ministers of France, 
 in the prison of La Force. In that prison there had been in 
 confinement, for some time, an adjutant-general, named Guiaeu, 
 and General Lahorie, of whom I have already spoken. Both 
 had served with Mallet, but had heard nothing more of him, and 
 were totally ignorant of his plans. Mallet entered the prison, 
 claimed his two old comrades, and told the great news. The 
 jailor refusing to deliver his prisoners, he signed their liberation, 
 introduced two hundred men, and went to Lahorie's chamber. 
 The first words Mallet said to him were, ' You are the minister 
 of police. Rise, dress yourself, and follow me.' Poor Lahorie, 
 who now saw, for the first time during a lapse of twelve years, 
 a man whom he had never looked upon as quite compos mentis, 
 imagined all he heard was but a dream, and rubbed his eyes 
 while looking at him. At last the assurance of the death of the 
 emperor, of the assembling of the senate, of the re-establishment 
 of the republic, convinced him that he once more witnessed 
 another of those revolutions so common in modern history. He 
 rose, dressed himself, and found six hundred men at the gate, 
 With Guidal by his side, he immediately went to the minister 
 of police, who was still in bed. The soldiers entered quietly, 
 and without any obstacle ; when, finding the door of the minis- 
 
442 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 ter's chamber locked, they broke it open with the butt-ends of 
 their muskets. The minister, waking at the noise, jumped out 
 of bed, and, without waiting to dress himself, rushed upon the 
 murderers. He was seized, and treated in the most brutal man- 
 ner; but at last, at sight of the prisoner Lahorie, and the intelli- 
 gence of the death of the emperor, he began to comprehend that 
 he was tne victim and the dupe of a revolution. He obtained, 
 not without some trouble, leave to dress ; and Guidal led him, 
 escorted by a detachment, to the prison of La Force. On the 
 Point Neuf he jumped from the cabriolet, but was retaken. 
 When he arrived at the prison, the jailor burst into tears. Sa» 
 vary whispered to him, ' Place me in your darkest dungeon, 
 and hide the key of it. God knows what is the meaning of 
 this ; but it will all clear up.' A few moments later, the prefect 
 of police was also brought to the prison; a detachment had 
 gone to fetch him, and had dragged him along. Whilst the 
 heads of the police were thus treated, Mallet went to General 
 Hullin, commander of the military division and of the city of 
 Paris. The general was just getting up to receive an order 
 from the minister of the war department, which could be deli- 
 vered into no hands but his own. Mallet was accompanied by 
 some officers of his troop. On seeing the general, he said to 
 him, with the greatest coolness, and with an air of gravity, ' I 
 am very mortified, general, to have so painful a commission to 
 execute; but my orders are to arrest you.' Hullin remon- 
 strated ; and looking to Mallet, whose face he knew, he said, 
 
 • How ! Mallet, is it you ? You arrest me — a prisoner ? How 
 did you come here? What is your business doing here?' 
 
 • The emperor is dead.' These words struck Hullin dumb, and 
 Mallet repeated the fable he had invented. However, the arrest 
 and the order to go to prison appeared wondrous strange to the 
 general. He continually spoke of the death of the emperor and 
 his own imprisonment : — at length asked Mallet to show him 
 his order. ' Very willingly,' replied the other ; • will you step 
 with me into your closet?' Hullin turned* round, and as he 
 was entering the closet, he fell, struck by a bullet that touched 
 his head. While lying on the ground, he saw his murderer 
 looking coolly at him, and preparing to fire once more ; but 
 thinking him dead, he left the place. He crossed the Place 
 Vendome, and went to the stafX whither he had sent before him 
 a letter, acquainting the adjutant-general, N ### , that he was ad- 
 vanced to the rank of major-general. The latter, when he saw 
 Mallet, could not disguise his doubts. Struggling between his 
 duty and his ambition, he was perhaps at the point of yielding. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 443 
 
 and entering into arrangements, when one of the heads of the 
 military police, the old Colonel Laborde, came into the apart- 
 ment. The appearance of that man showed sufficiently that he 
 cou.d be neither deceived nor seduced. Mallet was therefore 
 going to blow out his brains, when Laborde seized him abrupt- 
 ly by his arm, called for assistance, and had him arrested. This 
 Laborde was an old soldier, who, having long retired from active 
 service, had chosen Paris for his camp and the scene of his ob- 
 servations. Attached to the police under all possible govern- 
 ments, no one could impose upon him by illusions. His youth 
 had been passed in vice, and he now felt pleasure in pursuing 
 it in its last holds. He made use of his privilege with all the 
 despotism which subalterns of that class love to exercise upon 
 the rabble. Rank, titles, glory, virtue, crime itself, is sacred to 
 them as long as it remains prosperous ; but as soon as the day 
 of misfortune arrives, they trample upon everything, andneither 
 respect nor pity must be expected from them. Laborde had seen 
 Mallet in prison. At the first report of the minister of police 
 being arrested, he set himself at the head of a platoon of infantry, 
 went to the office and found Lahorie calmly seated at his desk, 
 writing orders, after those he had given at the Hotel de Ville. 
 He had him immediately seized and tied to his arm-chair, while 
 he addressed to him reproaches that opened the unfortunatf 
 Lahorie's eyes to the madness of Mallet. He then went to the 
 staff, where he arrested the latter, and flying to the prison, he de- 
 livered the minister and prefect of police. The prefect went 
 home ; but his hotel being still full of the soldiers who had 
 arrested him, they pursued him, and he was glad to find a refuge 
 in a neighboring house. All these scenes, well deserving of 
 a place in the Arabian Nights' Entertainments, happened be- 
 tween five and eight o'clock in the morning. By nine all was 
 over ; and the happy inhabitants of Paris, when they awoke, 
 learned the singular event, and made some tolerably good jokes 
 upon it." 
 
 ESCAPE OF LAVALETTE. 
 
 Few events in the civil history of French affairs have ex- 
 cited an interest more deep and universal than the escape of 
 Lavalette, the postmaster-general, from the prison of the Con- 
 ciergerie, aided as he was by three Englishmen, who then re- 
 sided in Paris. The circumstances of Lavalette' s previous trial, 
 
444 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 are comparatively unimportant, except as they exhibit on what 
 tTiviai grounds he was deprived of his liberty, and sentenced to 
 an ignominious death. 
 
 On evidence fallacious in itself, and substantiated chiefly by- 
 retainers of the government, Lavalette was capitally convicted 
 of the crime of high treason, by a decree of the court of assize 
 for the department of the Seine, before which he was tried. 
 Against this decree he appealed, on the ground of various in- 
 formalities ; but this appeal being rejected by the court, the 
 sentence pronounced upon him was to be carried into effect on 
 the 21st of December, 1815. 
 
 The strictest orders had been given by the police that the 
 condemned man should be guarded in the prison wherein he 
 was confined, called the Conciergerie, with all the usual pre- 
 cautions ; and after the rejection of the appeal, the prefect of 
 police had ordered Jean Baptiste de Kerguisec, the registering 
 keeper of the prison, to redouble his vigilance ; adding, that if 
 any one should ask to communicate with Lavalette, and should 
 even bring an order for that purpose, signed with his (the pre- 
 fect's) hand, still the keeper should pay no attention to it, as no 
 person was to see the prisoner without the order of the attorney- 
 general. 
 
 Lavalette, being informed by the keeper of these new orders, 
 immediately wrote to the attorney-general, begging that he 
 might be permitted to see his wife, and a few other persons, 
 whose names he mentioned. The attorney-general felt unwill- 
 ing to refuse this request ; but, in giving his assent he particu- 
 larly directed that the persons indicated should only see Lava- 
 lette, in succession — one after the other. 
 
 Nevertheless, on the 20th of December, the eve of the day 
 fixed for carrying the sentence into effect, about half-past three 
 in the afternoon, Lavalette's wife and daughter, accompanied 
 by the widow Dutoit, who was seventy years old, and attached 
 to the service of Mademoiselle Lavalette, were introduced at the 
 same time by the jailor, Roquette, into Lavalette's chamber. 
 
 Madame Lavalette was carried to the Conciergerie in a chair, 
 borne by one Guerin, called Marengo, her ordinary chairman, 
 and by one Brigaut, a man selected for that day's service by 
 Guerin, in the room of one Laporte, who usually performed 
 this service with him, but who happened at this time to be ill. 
 The chairmen generally had conveyed Madame Lavalette into 
 the court-yard of the Conciergerie, but, on the 20th of Decem- 
 ber, she got out in the court-yard of the palace, and walked on 
 foot towards the grate of the Conciergerie ; Bennoit Bonneville, 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 44? 
 
 her valet, having told the chairman to stop, and that Madame 
 found herself sufficiently strong to walk the rest of the way. 
 They accordingly turned the chair towards the palace of just- 
 ice; but out of it was taken a cushion, covered with green 
 tafTety, and a pretty large package o r an irregular form, which 
 seemed to contain bottles of wine. This package, as well as 
 the cushion, and a work-bag which Madame Lavalette car- 
 ried, were received into the prison, and taken to Lavalette's 
 chamber. 
 
 Madame Lavalette, on arriving at the Conciergerie, was 
 clothed in a furred riding-coat of red Merino, and had upon her 
 head a black hat, with various colored feathers. She entered 
 her husband's apartment with her daughter and the widow 
 Dutoit. The valet-de-chambre, Benoit, remained in the first 
 apartment called the avant-grefTe. He was seen near the fire- 
 place during more than two hours. 
 
 \t five o'clock, Jaques Eberle, one of the wicket-keepers of 
 the Conciergerie, who had been specially appointed by the 
 keeper of the prison to the guard and service of Lavalette, took 
 his dinner to him, of which Madame and Mademoiselle Lava- 
 lette, and the widow Dutoit, partook. 
 
 After dinner, which lasted an hour, Eberle served up coffee, 
 which he fetched from the coffee-house of the palace, and left 
 Lavalette's apartment with orders not to return till he was 
 rung for. 
 
 Meantime, Benoit, who was in the secret of what was intend- 
 ed, and who saw the hour of execution approach, had left the 
 avant-greffe to assure himself of the chairmen. He found them 
 at the corps de garde, and invited them to come and drink with 
 him. Benoit, by way of trying them, said, " Comrades, there 
 are five and twenty Louis to be gained ; you will be a little 
 heavily loaded, and it will be necessary to go a little quick ; 
 but you have only ten steps to make." " It is Monsieur Lava- 
 lette himself, then, that we are going to take?" replies Brigaut. 
 " You have nothing to do with that ; only do what you are 
 asked." Brigaut rejected the proposition, and a coal-heaver 
 was employed in his stead. 
 
 A short time after coffee, and towards seven o'clock, the bell 
 rang from Lavalette's chamber, intimating to the keeper that 
 his prisoner wanted somebody. Roquette, the father, wr.s at 
 Jiat moment, near the fire-place with Eberle, to whom he im- 
 mediately gave orders to go into Lavalette's chamber. He 
 heard the keeper of the wicket open the door which led to that 
 chamber, and as he advanced to know what Lavalette wanted, 
 
 38 
 
446 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 he saw three persons dressed in female attire, who were fol- 
 lowed by Eberle, and who came in front of him m the avant- 
 greffe. The person whom he took for Madame Lavalette waa 
 dressed in a black petticoat, with a furred gown of red Merino ; 
 she had white gloves and a woman's neck handkerchief on, a 
 black hat, with feathers of different colors ; in a word, she was 
 in exactly the same dress as that in which Madame Lavalette 
 was first introduced to the apartment of her husband. A white 
 handkerchief covered the face of this person, who had the ap- 
 pearance of sobbing ; and Mademoiselle Lavalette, who walked 
 by the side, uttered the most lamentable cries. Every thing in 
 this romantic scene presented the spectacle of a family given 
 up to the feelings of a last adieu. The keeper melted, and de- 
 ceived by the disguise, and scanty light of two lamps, had not 
 the power to take away the handkerchief which concealed the 
 features of the disguised person; and, having neglected to per- 
 form this painful but necessary duty, he presented his hand to 
 the person (as he had been used to do to Madame Lavalette,) 
 whom he conducted along with the two persons to the last 
 wicket. Eberle then stepped forward, and ran to call Benoit, 
 who arrived with the chairmen. Lavalette, under the habit of 
 his wife, was already in the chair, which was immediately 
 carried forward, followed by Mademoiselle Lavalette, and the 
 widow Dutoit. Eberle, having at this moment perceived an- 
 other wicket-keeper, took him away to drink, saying, at the 
 same time, *' It is something singular that those three persons 
 never spoke a word to me." 
 
 The chair and its suit went, according to the direction of 
 Benoit, to the middle of the street La Barillerie; and, as far as 
 the quay des Orfevres. The chair was now opened, Lavalette 
 came out, and disappeared, and was immediately succeeded in 
 his place by Mademoiselle Lavalette. Benoit told the chair- 
 man to turn towards the Abbaye aux Bois. 
 
 In the meantime, the keeper, Roquette, entered, for the first 
 time, the chamber of Lavalette, where he saw no one, but heard 
 somebody stirring behind the screen. He returned a second 
 time, and called ; no one answered He began to fear some 
 mischief, advanced beyond the screen, and there recognising 
 Madame Lavalette, who tremulously said, " II est parti." " Ah, 
 Madame," cried the jailor, " you have deceived me." He wish- 
 ed to run out, in order to give the alarm. Madame Lavalette 
 matched hold of him, and detained him by his coat sleeve, say- 
 ing, " Stay, Monsieur Roquette, slay." " No, Madame," said 
 he jailor, " this» is not to be borne." A struggle ensued ; the 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 447 
 
 coat was torn ; Roquette rushed out, calling for help, and in- 
 forming - his son of the escape of the prisoner. 
 
 Roquette, the son, darted from the Conciergerie, where he 
 met, at the grate of the palace, Eberle, returning from drinking 
 with Beaudiscar, the wicket-keeper. He gave him orders to 
 follow the chair by the street of La Barillerie, himself announc- 
 ing that he would take that of Jerusalem, in order to get ahead 
 of the chairmen and stop their advance, and that they should 
 meet again at the street of Jerusalem. Roquette did in effect 
 take the street of Jerusalem; at the bottom of which he overtook 
 the chair, and stopped it ; but on finding only Mademoiselle 
 Lavalette in it, he returned with all speed to the Conciergerie. 
 
 Scarcely had he quited the chair, when Benoit, who con- 
 tinued to follow the chairmen, said, " It is very lucky that this 
 has turned out so." As for Eberle, instead of executing the 
 order which he had received from the younger Rouquette, of 
 pursuing the chair by the street of Barillerie, he returned to 
 the prison, and went to the chamber of Lavalette, under the 
 pretense of assuring himself whether the prisoner really had 
 escaped. In coming out, he said to his comrades, with an 
 affectation of zeal, truly laughable, " There is still someDody 
 shut up in the cell, and I'll take care that they sha'nt come out 
 without proper orders." On saying, afterwards, that it was 
 very easy to have distinguished Lavalette from his wife, the 
 latter being taller by half a head ; and being asked why he had 
 not made that observation sooner, he replied, " It did not be- 
 long to me to make any observations when the head of the de- 
 partment was there." 
 
 The charge stated, that Eberle, being attached to Lavalette's 
 service, as he had before been to that of Ney, had received from 
 both prisoners divers sums of money, under the head of gratuity. 
 Eberle said, that what he had received of Lavalette only amount- 
 ed to 100 francs ; but on the day of the escape, a search having 
 taken place in his house, there was found the sum of 1700 
 francs, which his wife had at first endeavored to get away from 
 the commissioner of police. It cannot be doubted but that the 
 greater part of that sum came from the bounty of Lavalette. 
 Such is the substance of the report issued by the chamber of 
 accusation. Madame Lavalette, and the widow Dutoit, were 
 subjected to interrogations; the latter preserved the most invin- 
 cible silence, or showed, by the few answers she gave, that she 
 was afraid of betraying her master. Madame Lavalette went 
 farther; she justified all that had been done, imputing to her- 
 self the plan, conduct, and execution of the enterprise. 
 
4 48 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 The friends of Lavalette had placed their hope in a young 
 English gentleman, whose noble mind, fortune, and indepen- 
 dent spirit, presented him to them as alone capable of seconding 
 the design they had formed of getting off Lavalette. On the 
 31st of December, between seven and eight in the morning, 
 Mr. Michael Bruce received an anonymous letter, in substance 
 as follows : 
 
 11 Sir — I have so much confidence in your honor, that I wish 
 to communicate a secret, which I dare make known only to you. 
 Lavalette is still in Paris — I place his life in your hands — you 
 alone can save him." 
 
 Bruce was in bed ; the letter excited in him the utmost at 
 tonishment. After a few moments of reflection, he said to the 
 bearer of the note: " I cannot give an answer at this moment; 
 but, if the person will meet me at such a house, in such a place, 
 I will talk to him on the subject." 
 
 Agitated by various sentiments, he, about noon, attended at 
 the place he had appointed. Bruce said to the messenger, al- 
 ready there, " I will do all in my power to save the Count de 
 Lavalette, but no person whatever must be compromised. I 
 will not know the name of the person who addressed the letter 
 to me, nor even the place of Lavalette' s concealment ; let me 
 first reflect on the means of saving him." He alone would 
 have saved him, but he found the task impossible. 
 
 He was in this state of perplexity, when, on the 2d of Jan- 
 uary, Sir R. Wilson called on him ; it immediately struck him 
 to communicate the project to him ; but he reflected that he was 
 intrusted with the secret of another, and contented himself with 
 saying, " I should like to communicate something to you, but 
 I must first ask the consent of a third person." Sir Robert 
 asked whether the intelligence was good or bad 1 " Disagreea- 
 ble," replied Bruce; "but we will talk of it to-morrow." 
 
 In the evening Bruce met the stranger, and easily obtained 
 permission to disclose the secret to Sir R. Wilson. 
 
 Sir Robert returned on the following morning, and Mr. Bruce 
 recounted all he knew of Lavalette. " He places himself m 
 our hands," he added — "how can we save him?" Sir Robert 
 felt the same kind of inquietude as Mr. Bruce ; not that he con- 
 sidered the action as evil in itself, he only regarded the salva- 
 tion of Lavalette ; but he feared to fail, and that it would be 
 imputed to his imprudence and want of address. However, he 
 did not hesitate to consent to the proposal of his young friend ; 
 he informed him, he would turn it over seriously in his mine, 
 and they would then talk of it. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 449 
 
 For some time Bruce and Wilson had perceived that they 
 jvere closely watched by the French police; this demanded 
 more circumspection on their part, and made them feel the ne- 
 cessity of interesting a third person in the enterprise. Sir Robert 
 proposed to one of his countrymen, (named Ellister) to accom- 
 pany Lavalette to the frontiers. This Englishman willingly 
 would have undertaken the task, but he was an officer, and 
 could not obtain leave of absence. 
 
 On Thursday the 4th, Wilson mentioned this difficulty to 
 Bruce ; " I foresee very well," said he, " that I must myself ac- 
 complish the plan ; it will be more difficult, but I will under- 
 take it." They therefore agreed that Bruce should ask of the 
 stranger the measure of Lavalette, and Wilson was in the 
 mean time to procure passports. Bruce, having got the mea- 
 sure of the count, gave it to Sir Robert, who went to Hutchin- 
 son and informed him of the whole case, and asked his assist- 
 ance. His words had all the weight which his rank of general 
 gave him ; and represented to him the friendship which had so 
 long united him to his uncles. Sir Robert had no doubt that 
 the excellent heart of Hutchinson would alone induce him to 
 lend a ready hand ; but he painted every circumstance in the 
 strongest colors, and clearly showed him, that, if the act were 
 punishable, all the blame would fall entirely upon himself. 
 However that might be, Hutchinson consented to aid Wilson 
 and Bruce in their project, and took the measure of Lavalette ; 
 and, that no French tailor might be compromised, he gave it to 
 a German tailor, of whom he ordered the uniform of a quarter- 
 master of the regiment of the guards. The honest German, 
 the moment he saw the measure, exclaimed — " This was never 
 taken by a tailor." Hutchinson could not avoid smiling at 
 this remark ; but, reflecting on the possible consequences of the 
 circumstances, and to remove all suspicion from the mind of 
 the tailor, said — " When the suit is made, you must pack it care- 
 fully up, for the quarter-master cannot wait for its being done ; 
 I must send it after him." 
 
 On the other hand, Sir Robert Wilson procured the pass- 
 ports. Without entering into any detail on this subject, it will 
 be only necessary to state that they were not deceitfully obtain- 
 ed from the French authorities, but delivered by the ambassa- 
 dor of a foreign power ; and that, if they were delivered under 
 otner names than those of Wilson, &c, it will not be surpris- 
 ing, when it is considered that nothing is more common than 
 lor the English to travel under fictitious names. The only 
 point of interest on this subject is, that fictitious names were 
 
 38* 
 
450 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 selected of the same initials with their real ones; thus, Genera 
 Wallis and Colonel Laussac were adopted ; as, in the case of 
 their trunks being examined, the linen found marked L. and 
 W. could give no clew, and rather disarm than create suspicion. 
 
 After some deliberation, they resolved on setting out in a 
 carriage ; but not a close one, nor even a cabriolet with a head 
 to it, but in a buggie ; which, having less the air of mystery, 
 would the less excite suspicion ; Lavalette should seat himself 
 in it by the side of Wilson. Hutchinson and a servant were to 
 follow on horseback, that, in case of necessity, Lavalette and 
 Wilson might mount them, and set off at speed. 
 
 In the mean time, Ellister, provided with the passport, deliv- 
 ered under the name of Colonel Laussac, it was agreed, should 
 leave Paris in Wilson's carriage by a different barrier, and 
 meet them at Compeigne. 
 
 There they were to change carriages ; Ellister and Hutchin- 
 son were to bring back the buggie to Paris, and the two others 
 would pursue their journey in Sir Robert's berline. Compeigne 
 was selected for exchanging carriages : first, because it was 
 sufficiently distant from Paris for the exchange not to be re- 
 marked ; secondly, because Bruce, having learnt that the bri- 
 gade of his cousin, General ******, was at Compeigne, and 
 that his aid-de-camp would leave Paris on the 7th of January 
 for that town, with the horses and baggage of the general, who 
 was then in England. Bruce requested the aid-de-camp to 
 show Sir Robert Wilson every attention on his journey; which 
 he obligingly promised, without asking any questions. On 
 Saturday evening, Bruce informed the stranger that everything 
 was ready for their departure on the following Monday morn- 
 ing. They agreed to regulate their watches by the clock of 
 the Thuilleries on Sunday, as it struck three. The same even- 
 ing at precisely half-past nine, Lavalette entered Hutchinson's 
 house, No. 3, Rue du Helder. 
 
 The lodging of Hutchinson was selected as the point of de- 
 parture ; because the residences of Wilson and Bruce were 
 watched by the spies of the police, and Rue du Helder was 
 nearer the barrier of Clichy ; and because Hutchinson was 
 accustomed to rise early, sometimes to go a hunting, and some- 
 times to parade. 
 
 It is here to be observed that Wilson, Bruce, and Hutchin- 
 son, were completely ignorant of the place of Lavalette's con- 
 cealment. On Sunday, Bruce went to the Thuilleries to set 
 his watch ; at precisely half-past nine, Lavalette, and one of his 
 fi.iends, arrived at the Rue du Helder, No. 3 They knocked 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 451 
 
 Bruce himself was at the door, and on receiving him, giving 
 him a slap on the shoulder, said, " God dem, why have you 
 come so late; we have already drank our first bowl of punch.'' 
 The French are accustomed to hear the favorite oath of the 
 English, which they spell God dem ; and it was used by 
 Bruce to deceive the persons in the porter's lodge. He took 
 Lavalette by the arm, and led him into the apartment of Hut- 
 chinson. 
 
 Lavalette wore a blue uniform, with the regimental trim- 
 mings, pantaloons of the same color, Hessian boots and spurs, 
 a crop wig, and round hat. There were only at Hutchinson's 
 apartment, Bruce, Wilson, and Ellister, and the servant of Hut- 
 chinson. Lavalette, as may be supposed, was extremely agi- 
 tated, and powerful^" affected with gratitude, towards the for- 
 eigners who so cheerfully interested themselves in his fate. 
 Two minutes had scarcely elapsed before the bell rang ; a per- 
 son entered the anti-chamber, and asked for Colonel Laussac, 
 (the name under which Lavalette was to travel.) Hutchinson's 
 servant informed his master. He went out ; the stranger re- 
 peated he wanted Colonel Laussac : " Beg the colonel to come," 
 said Hutchinson to his servant. The servant, not being in the 
 secret, and having heard Ellister called Laussac, (it having 
 been agreed that Ellister should personate Colonel Laussac as 
 far as Compeigne, when he should transfer it and the passports 
 to Lavalette,) told him a gentleman wanted to speak to him. 
 Ellister went out, and said to the stranger, " I do not know 
 you." The stranger appeared surprised, because he thought 
 Lavalette would present himself as Colonel Laussac. In the 
 mean time, Hutchinson, who did not know what to make of the 
 stranger, took him towards the window, when he perceived 
 under his great-coat a double-barreled pistol, which he instant- 
 ly seized. Instead of complaining of the violence, the stran- 
 ger simply said, " I perceive you are one of our friends ; you 
 are a generous man." He bowed, and retired. 
 
 This incident was by no means of a consoling nature ; Hut- 
 chinson returned into the apartment much alarmed, which soon 
 became general ; but when Lavalette recognized the pistol Hut- 
 chinson held in his hand to be one of his own, that he left in 
 the cabriolet, their fears were now dissipated. 
 
 Tranquillity restored, Lavalette dressed himself in the uni- 
 form prepared for him, and Ellister retired. 
 
 Wilson also left them, and went to a party, where he stayed 
 till midnight, in order to give no suspicion to those who might 
 be inclined to watch him. 
 
452 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 Bruce remained at Hutchinson's till twelve o'clock, when 
 affectionately embracing Lavalette, he bade him "goodnight,'' 
 and wished him a successful journey. The want of repose 
 was imperiously felt; Lavalette threw himself on Hutchin- 
 son's bed without undressing, and Hutchinson did the same. 
 They had scarcely laid down when a violent knocking at the 
 door was heard. Lavalette leaped up, and cried, " We are 
 lost." 
 
 Their fears soon passed, for Hutchinson discovered that the 
 noise was occasioned by a drunken officer, who had mistaken 
 the door. At length this anxious night passed away, and the 
 hour of departure arrived. 
 
 At seven o'clock Wilson's servant went to fetch Bruce's 
 buggie, and returned to his master, in tie Rue de la Paix. 
 Wilson got into the buggie, and his servant followed on horse- 
 back. They arrived at the Rue du Helder. Wilson went 
 up to Hutchinson's apartment, and said, " Come along, all is 
 ready." 
 
 Lavalette seated himself on Wilson's left; Hutchinson mount- 
 ed his horse and followed ; as likewise Wilson's servant. 
 
 Hutchinson kept up by the side of the buggie, sometimes on 
 one side, sometimes another, speaking English to them. La- 
 valette scarcely knew a word of English, but he feigned to un- 
 derstand it all ; he spoke German fluently, and, in case of acci- 
 dent, he was to declare himself a German officer attached to 
 the English staff 
 
 Wilson wore the uniform of an English general officer, with 
 a blue great coat, and round hat. 
 
 Lavalette also wore his quarter-master's uniform, under a 
 gray great coat, and regimental cap, covered with oilskin ; he 
 held on his lap Wilson's military hat, the white plume of 
 which seemed marvelously to attract the attention of those they 
 
 They passed the barrier at an easy pace ; the gendarmes 
 looked steadfastly at them ; but the motion of presenting arms, 
 (which they were always ordered to do whenever a gene- 
 ral officer passed, whether French or of the allies,) facilitated 
 to Lavalette the means of covering his profile in returning the 
 salute. 
 
 It was thus that, on Monday, the 8th of January, in broad 
 day, Lavalette, with his face and person completely exposed, 
 and without even having a passport about him, left Paris, with 
 out inspiring the slightest suspicion, or experiencmg the least 
 obstacle. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. |53 
 
 When they had nearly reached Chapelle, Hulehinson rode 
 on before to clear the way, and see how matters stood. He 
 found four gendarmes at the door of the inn where the first 
 relay of horses was ordered. 
 
 One of the gendarmes came up to him, and asked if any troops 
 were coming that way. " No," said Hutchinson, " not to-day, 
 but they will in a few days, and the general is just coming up 
 to choose cantonments for his division." 
 
 In the mean time the buggie arrived ; and Hutchinson made 
 a signal to Wilson to drive at once into the court-yard. In the 
 twinkling of an eye they changed horses and departed. 
 
 They had not got far, when they perceived at a distance a 
 carriage escorted by gendarmes. Hutchinson accosted them, 
 and asked them so many questions, that they were entirely occu- 
 pied in answering him, while the buggie gently passed them. 
 
 As they approached Compeigne, Hutchinson and Wilson's 
 servant galloped on before to find out the place they were to 
 stop at. 
 
 On entering the town, they found a sergeant, who had orders 
 to conduct them to the quarters of the aid-de-camp. Delighted 
 at this circumstance, Hutchinson waited for the buggie, which 
 was delayed a little, for Wilson perceived that Lavalette's 
 gray hairs came below his wig, and he stopped to clip them 
 close. 
 
 A violent storm came on as they entered Compeigne ; and 
 they crossed the whole town before they arrived at the lodgings 
 prepared for them. 
 
 Mr. Franel, the aid-de-camp, received them with the greatest 
 politeness, and offered them a collation, which they accepted ; 
 and therefore waited the arrival of Ellister, who went on Sun- 
 day evening to lodge in the Rue de Hotel du Helder, where 
 Sir Robert Wilson had sent his carriage. 
 
 Ellister went himself with his passports, as Colonel Laussac, 
 to the prefecture of police, to demand post-horses. While the 
 order was making out he observed laying about a great number 
 of printed papers, of a description of Lavalette's person, which 
 were distributed to all comers, and he immediately accepted one 
 himself. He received an order for three horses for a berline, 
 to contain him and his servant, whom he took with him, in or- 
 der that, on giving place to Lavalette and Wilson, the number 
 oi travellers might not appear augmented. These dispositions 
 thus made, Ellister, (as we have already observed,) having pass- 
 ed part of Sunday evening at Hutchinson's, prepared to start 
 on Monday morning at ten. 
 
454 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 A gendarme, who was present, demanded his passport to exa- 
 mine it, and did not return it until he had carefully compared 
 the description with his person. After this verification, Ellis- 
 ter got into the berline, and ordered the postillion to drive on 
 the road to Compeigne, by the barrier of St. Dennis. The 
 gendarme, however, resolving to see all was right, followed the 
 voiture as far as Bourget ; where he was replaced by another 
 agent of police, who did not think it worth while to follow them 
 far. At Louvres, Ellister got out of the carriage, a gendarme 
 having demanded his passport ; and, after looking at him, said 
 to his comrades, " The devil take me if that is an English offi- 
 cer !" Ellister checked his impertinence, and in a firm tone 
 told him he was mistaken ; and there the matter dropped. 
 
 Ellister arrived without any further accident at Compeigne, 
 at five o'clock precisely. The moment he arrived fresh horses 
 were ordered. The aid-de-camp wished them to stay dinner, 
 but Wilson pressed their departure. Ellister, under the name 
 of Colonel Laussac, demanded three horses, and a courier to 
 ride on before. Four horses would have shown too much im- 
 patience and dispatch; and, with three only, they avoided a 
 second postillion, which was, therefore, one Argus the less. 
 
 It was night, and darkness afforded protection to tne travel- 
 ers ; but, to give less suspicion, Wilson ordered the three lamps 
 to be lighted. All was ready ; and a French courier rode on 
 before to order relays. Wilson's servant mounted the box of 
 the berline. Lavalette was provided with the passport of Colo- 
 nel Laussac, given him by Ellister. Wilson had orovided 
 himself with a brace of pistols ; Lavalette had only one, the 
 other had been left at Hutchinson's. They had neither of them 
 a sword ; and, although resolved to defend themselves in case 
 of an attack, they calculated more on their presence of mind, 
 than resistance by open force. Hutchinson and Ellister wish- 
 ed them a prosperous journey, and the postillion started, crack 
 ing his whip. 
 
 Wilson's servant did not speak French ; it was Sir Rober 
 h'.mself who paid at every post ; and, on every question asked 
 he never failed to reply, "an English general." His Ian 
 guage, the form of his carriage, and physiognomy of his do 
 mestic, all confirmed the idea that the travelers were actuallj 
 English. 
 
 It was now four o'clock in the morning, and they were only 
 two leagues from Cambray. But the post-master informed 
 them that they could not pass through at night because the gates 
 were shut ; and that the propose, stationed at the advanced posts, 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 455 
 
 would not oe at the trouble of going to inform the keeper. 
 Such a delay naturally created uneasiness ; perhaps they wero 
 pursued, and, if so, might be overtaken. It was, however, ne- 
 cessary to wait. To pass the time, Wilson left the carriage ; 
 and, while Lavalette feigned to be asleep, went into the stable, 
 talked to the postillions, and thus the time passed till the hour 
 of departure. At six o'clock they started, and reached the gates 
 of Cambray, half an hour before daylight. 
 
 The postillion cracked his whip to announce their arrival; 
 no one answered. The English sentinel, however, called the 
 officer on guard, but he would not get up ; and they were obli- 
 ged to wait. At length daylight came, and the gate-keepers 
 arrived, and excused themselves, throwing the blame on the 
 laziness of the prepose. The beriine passed four or five car- 
 riages, delayed at the same time and on the like account. Ar- 
 rived at the inn, the host, who perceived that it was an English 
 general officer, complained of the indolence of the prepose, that 
 he had caused the travelers to sleep out of the city, instead of 
 coming to his house. Sir Robert replied, that he had then no 
 time to speak to the commandant of the place, but he certainly 
 would on his return. 
 
 The horses being changed, at half-past nine they arrived at 
 Valenciennes ; at the gates, a French agent presented himself, 
 and pronounced the accustomed formula — " Undoubtedly, gen- 
 tlemen, you have your passports ?" Wilson put his head out 
 of the window, and said, " I am an English general :" his dress 
 and his accent were sufficient, and the carriage entered the city. 
 When they had arrived at the post-house, a little boy demand- 
 ed their passports anew. Wilson replied as usual, " I am an 
 English general ;" but the little fellow insisted that he must 
 have the passports, that they might be examined by the colonel 
 of gendarmerie; they were given to him with an injunction tc 
 make haste, which he did not fail to do. This was not all; 
 he begged the general to write his name and that of his com- 
 panion, on a piece of paper, saying it was for the inn. Sir Robert 
 then wrote the two names of Wallace and Laussac on a dirty 
 p^ece of paper, which was afterwards produced against him on 
 his interrogatories. 
 
 At ten they set off again ; their passports were again exa- 
 mined, and kept a long time. Wilson was impatient to depart, 
 and did not fail to use the English term by which the French 
 know the English to express their displeasure. At length they 
 were permitted to pass. Sir Robert asked at what distance was 
 'he frontier; the postillion replied, at the distance of a league 
 32 
 
456 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 and a haJf ! This distance would soon be run ; but a few mo- 
 ments more, and all their fears would be dissipated ! But on 
 the line of frontier they found a last guard of gendarmerie, who 
 also demanded their passports ; happily, for this once, the usual 
 answer, "an English general," was satisfactory. On the point 
 of arriving, Sir Robert's terror had become extreme; he trem- 
 bled for Lavalette ; and each minute of delay inspired the ut- 
 most horror. He had hoped to pass the frontiers before day- 
 break, for fear of the telegraphs ; but at length the formidable 
 line was passed! 
 
 Sir Robert's first words to Lavalette were, " Thank God, you 
 are saved!" Lavalette, who had uniformly preserved the 
 utmost taciturnity, affectionately embraced him, and shedding 
 tears of gratitude and tenderness, said, with a great effusion of 
 heart, " I render my sincerest thanks to the Deity for having 
 permitted the generous efforts of my wife to be crowned with 
 success ; she would have died of grief if we had not succeeded ; 
 but yet I am unhappy," he added, " to see so many worthy 
 men compromised on my account. I know that the keepers 
 have been arrested ; but I declare, before God, and to you, my 
 generous friend ! that these men were not bribed, and were not 
 in our secret — the project would have failed if they had had 
 the slightest suspicion of it. I owe the whole to my wife, anc 
 to her alone." 
 
 No continued conversation was kept up during the journey : 
 they were both too powerfully affected by the dangers they hac 
 run, and their miraculous triumph over them; and, if occasion- 
 ally Sir Robert resumed it, it was to draw Lavalette from the 
 revery in which he was plunged, and by indifferent subjects 
 divert his attention. They conversed on the campaign in 
 Egypt, in which Lavalette first began to serve under Bona- 
 parte, and Wilson to distinguish himself against him. But, 
 when they had passed the frontier, they did not fear to talk even 
 on the affair of Lavalette. 
 
 The latter recounted how his wife had succeeded in saving 
 him ; that his disguise was made in the twinkling of an eye, 
 while the jailor went out of the room on an errand ; his fear of 
 breaking the feathers of the hat against the top of the wickets 
 as he passed through ; the risk he run of being retaken by the 
 fault of the chairmen, who were absent ; that, having found on 
 the quay the cabriolet of one of his friends, the friend quitted 
 it, and observed to him, " Madam, pray accept my cabriolet — 
 you will go quicker ;" that, after having got into it, he said, 
 " Take off your douilette, and hat and feather, and put on thjs 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 457 
 
 great coat, wig, &c. ;" and that, after having driven about Paris 
 for two hours, to prevent all traces by the police, they stopped 
 at the house which served him for an asylum till the evening 
 of their departure. He then asked Sir Robert if they really- 
 intended to put him to death. He was unbounded in his ex 
 pressions of gratitude to his generous friends — what other 
 name could he give them ! 
 
 These conversations brought them to Mons. Passports 
 were no longer demanded ; and they remained together four 
 or five hours. 
 
 Before they parted, Sir Robert, whose solicitude was inex- 
 haustible, foreseeing the possibility of Lavalette's being stopped 
 on his journey, gave him a letter to the king of Prussia, to 
 whom he had the honor to be personally known, in which he 
 interested that monarch in favor of Lavalette. This letter bore 
 the envelop and countersign of General Wilson ; so that, if 
 Lavalette had been arrested, he would have demanded to be 
 taken to the king, to deliver his dispatches. Sir Robert also 
 gave him a similar letter to the English ambassador at Munich. 
 Lavalette once more embraced Wilson, and vowed eternal 
 gratitude. 
 
 Sir Robert returned by Maubeuge and Laon, and arrived at 
 Paris by the barrier of St. Martin, on Wednesday evening, the 
 10th of January, after an absence of sixty hours. 
 
 In conclusion we have to state, that the several parties en- 
 gaged in this hazardous enterprise, were punished by fine and 
 imprisonment ; but that after an absence of three years, Count 
 Lavalette was recalled to his native country, where, we regret 
 to say, he found his faithful spouse in a state of mental derange- 
 ment from the persecutions which she suffered on account of 
 the heroic deliverance of her husband. 
 
 It is a gratifying thing to observe, however, that the tribute 
 due to the conjugal heroism of Madame Lavalette, was univer- 
 sally paid both in France and throughout Europe ; even papal 
 animosity, which was daily calling for the execution of the 
 husband, did justice to the wife. When the heads of the dif- 
 ferent departments were each vindicating themselves to the 
 king from any share in the blame of the escape, his majesty 
 coolly replied, " I do not see that anybody has d(y*e their duty, 
 except Madame Lavalette." 
 
458 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 A STORY OF THE PLAGUE AT CONSTANTINOPLE. 
 
 [From the Monthly Magazine.] 
 
 Among the friends I acquired during my residence at Con- 
 stantinople, there was nobody I valued so much, and with whom 
 
 I passed so much time, as Mr. C. Z , a native of the place, 
 
 descended from an Armenian family, and informed by travel, 
 and the constant society of the better class of Franks that fre- 
 quent Pera. The following details I gleaned almost entirely 
 from him, and he is himself the fond, devoted father — the hero 
 
 of his own tale. Madame W , his daughter, had been 
 
 some two or three years married to an Englishman attached to 
 our consular establishment at Constantinople, and was recent- 
 ly the happy mother of a lovely infant. A father might be par- 
 tial, but his praises of his daughter's beauty, and talent, and 
 goodness of heart, I have often heard confirmed by others, and 
 
 all who had known Madame W seemed to preserve the 
 
 most affectionate and admiring recollections of her. She must, 
 indeed, have been one of those gentle beings we occasionally 
 hear of, in our passage through life, whose names are never 
 mentioned without eliciting emotion and melancholy regret — 
 who seem to be a portion of the heart of every speaker, and 
 of whom it is constantly said, "Ah! if you had known her!" 
 
 One evening that Madame W was entertaining her sisters, 
 
 and other near relations and some friends at Pera, she felt of a 
 sudden seriously indisposed. The plague was known to be in 
 Constantinople, but it was not raging to any great extent, and 
 had scarcely crossed the Golden Horn to the Christian suburb. 
 So little did the party apprehend that the dread malady was 
 among them, that they nearly all felt her pulse, and came in the 
 closest contact with her. She cut in for a game at whist, and 
 when the family party broke up, she shook hands with all her 
 friends, and embraced her father and her sisters. That night 
 her fever increased, and the i.ext morning, as daylight broke 
 into the room and allowed her to see, Madame W discov- 
 ered a small, dark-red spot about the joint of the hand. She 
 knew the fatal token, but she said not a word to her husband, 
 who was sleeping at her side ; she took her little girl that was 
 lying on her bosom, and placed it in a cradle, and then waited 
 until such time as she could send for her father. 
 
 When Mr. C. Z entered the room she was alone. She 
 
 sorrowfully held up her hand, and he saw with horror the 
 plague spot on her wrist. Still, ho vever, there was a hope that 
 
Plague at Constantinople.— Page 459. 
 
 Earthquake at Caraccas, 1812.— Page 470. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINE1. 459 
 
 it might not be the plague — a feeble hope indeed, but it served 
 lo cheer him, as he took the sad road to the dwelling of one of 
 those professors who are called Plague Doctors, and who, by 
 constant practice, are supposed to be able to detect the malady 
 in its earliest stages. The doctor soon came to her bedside, 
 and filled the hearts of all the household with consternation, 
 
 by declaring that Madame W had indeed the plague. No 
 
 sooner had the word passed his lips than every body turned to 
 flee — the servants, who were Christians of Pera, and far from 
 feeling the indifference to the plague and the conviction of fa- 
 talism common to the Turks, would not stay another moment 
 in the house, and her husband, who was almost petrified with 
 fear, was among the first to leave the perilous spot. As the no 
 ble-hearted woman, who had borne the doubt and the conviction 
 that she was attacked by the fatal malady, with the courage of 
 a heroine, saw this desertion, and that her infant daughter, too 
 was taken away, her strength of heart failed her, and while, 
 burning tears came to her eyes, she said to her father who stood 
 close to her, hanging over her with an expression of anguish 
 on his countenance — " Tout le monde m'abandonne, monperel 
 mais vous ne m 1 abandonnerez pas." — "Jamais! mafille" was 
 the answer of the parent, who had not a thought to give to his 
 own safety, but who, as he spoke, embraced his darling, suffer- 
 ing child, and caught her infectious breath on his lips. By this 
 time the house was cleared by all save the father and daughter, 
 the plague doctor, and an old Turk, who, fortified by the pre- 
 destinarian doctrines of the Koran, volunteered his services and 
 attendance on the sick, whom no Frank in Pera would have 
 approached for a mine of wealth — whom husband, sisters, bro- 
 ther — all the nearest and dearest connections abandoned — all, 
 but her good old father ! 
 
 When the plague doctor retired, the house was placed in 
 quarantine, nobody entering its doors but people supplying the 
 objects that might be wanted by its inmates from a distance. 
 No condition can well be imagined more calamitous than this 
 — to see one's self avoided by one's fellow-creatures — to feel that 
 to approach a human being would be a crime — to watch the 
 rapid progresses of a disease that so rarely fails to kill, in the 
 person of one dearer to us than all the world beside — to count 
 the dull hours as they pass on, and to know, almost to a cer- 
 tainty, that in so many hours the dear object of all one's solici- 
 tude, will be rendered insane by the scorching fever, and insen- 
 sible to one's attentions and caresses — in so many hours more 
 will be a discolored corpse — in so many more the food of worms, 
 
460 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 of loathsome worms, though that flesh is of our flesh, and fail 
 and dear, and most precious to our hearts and eyes ! 
 
 In declaring Madame W 's disorder to be the plague, 
 
 *he doctor had remarked that it did not seem the most virulent 
 class of that disorder — that it was rather what he termed " la 
 peste benigna" but unfortunately before the malady was ascer- 
 tained, she had been copiously bled by a European practition- 
 er. I say unfortunately, because it seems to be established 
 that nothing is more prejudicial in plague cases than the use 
 of the lancet, and her poor father was always of opinion that 
 had she not been bled she would have recovered. 
 
 When the bubo broke on her arm, her devoted parent bathed 
 it with his own hands, and even Avhen it had burst, entirely 
 regardless of his own life or death, he dressed the festering, re- 
 volting wound ; whilst she was burning with the most horrid 
 fever, and writhing with pain, he often supported her in his 
 arms, and her aching head would recline on his bosom, and 
 her breath, hot as the vapor from an oven, would mingle with 
 his. But yet he caught not the infection. 
 
 Frequently did the affectionate young woman express hei 
 fears that her dear father would be seized with the fatal disor- 
 der — frequently did she entreat him earnestly to leave her to 
 her fate ; and as long as she retained her reason she testified 
 her sense of his truly paternal affection and devotedness in 
 words whose recollection seldom failed to make my stout-heart 
 ed friend's eyes overflow with tears. But it was most piteous 
 when the heat that raged at her brain destroyed her fine intel- 
 lect, and she remained either mute as in a lethargy, or uttered 
 words void of meaning, or sentences of the wildest and most 
 confused import. The predominant object in the mind and 
 heart of the young mother was her infant daughter, and at times 
 she would implore in a tone the most piteous, that they would 
 restore her child. At other moments she would clasp her arms 
 over her scorching breast, as though she held the little cherub 
 in her arms, and her parched lips would move as though she 
 blessed it. Sometimes her haggard eye, as it glared across ihe 
 apartment, seemed to be filled with imaginary objects, and bhe 
 would smile or frown as these fantasies of her diseased brain 
 were agreeable or otherwise. Mean while her afflicted father, 
 whom now she could not even know, much less recognize his 
 fond unwearying cares for her, scarcely left her bedside for a 
 moment, but sat sometimes with her burning hand in his, some- 
 times gazing fixedly on the form of his darling daughter that 
 might almost be seen consuming itself away like a statue of w r ax 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. ^Gl 
 
 before a glowing- fire. The old Turkish menial went and came, 
 and supplied him with that food which he could hardly be said 
 to taste in the bitterness of his grief, and which he scarcely 
 would have thought of himself. My friend always described 
 the nights he thus passed as something- most awful. Every 
 thing would be still in Pera and the adjoining suburbs of To- 
 phana and Galata — so still, so silent the sick room that the 
 breathing of his dying child was dreadfully audible ; and when 
 this silence was interrupted by the barking of some of those in- 
 numerable dogs that stray about Constantinople without any 
 master, and with whatever home the corners of the streets, or 
 the ruins of houses may afford them ; or when the Beckdji, or 
 Turkish watchman, going his round, struck at intervals the 
 stone pavement of the streets with his club, which is always 
 heavily loaded with an iron ferule, and the hollow noise echoed 
 through the long, narrow, dark street of Pera, the sounds only 
 served to render deeper still, and more grave-like the solemn 
 silence that succeeded them. The tall white minarets of the 
 mosque of Tophana were immediately below the house, and 
 
 visible from Madame W 's chamber. They rose stark in 
 
 the deep blue sky of night like sheeted ghosts, and in addition 
 to the sounds I have mentioned as interrupting at intervals the 
 solemn silence, there proceeded from them, at the Moslemin's 
 hours of prayer, the low, impressive chant of the Muezzin, 
 which, and more particularly at the midnight Ezann,* at the 
 stilly hour of darkness and sleep, broke on the ear like a voice 
 from another world. At these summons to prayer, the poor 
 old Turk, who was always near at hand, and who had contract- 
 ed a reverence and affection for the Christian that so loved his 
 daughter, would retire to a corner of the room and mumble his 
 devotions. It might be that the Christian father and daughter 
 were included in those prayers : the petitions of the Mussulman 
 might be as efficacious at the throne of Heavenly grace and 
 mercy, as purer and sounder homilies ; but it was not the will of 
 
 Providence that Madame W should be restored to health 
 
 and to her fond father whose life seemed to depend upon hers. 
 I believe it was on the fourth day of her dreadful malady 
 that death released her from her sufferings. For some hours 
 before the awful moment her reason was restored, and though 
 weak and faint, and with but the " shadow of a sound'' for her 
 voice, she spoke composedly and most affectionately to her dear 
 parent, who had grown pale, and thin, and haggard, in watch- 
 
 * The call to Prayer. 
 39* 
 
462 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 ing over his darling child. She recommended — and what ia 
 there on earth so sacred as the recommendation of a dying 
 mother in behalf of her offspring : — she recommended her in- 
 fant to the protection of her sisters ; she spoke of the difficult 
 and dangerous career of a girl deprived of a mother's care, and 
 she hoped that her dear Maria would supply a mother's place. 
 At intervals, when she saw her poor father bowed down with 
 grief, she would make an attempt a; composure and even gayety ; 
 and her fine countenance would sparkle for a moment with its 
 former vivacity, and her bright intellect still exercise that influ- 
 ence which when in health and happiness irradiated every 
 society she frequented. It was after one of these efforts, that 
 my friend, whose eyes were constantly riveted on hers, saw a 
 sudden change in her countenance — there was an awful some- 
 thing flashed over it — a flitting shadow of mystery and solem- 
 nity — the reflection of coming immortality — a something like 
 the shade of a bird high up in the heavens cast on a deep and 
 solitary lake. The fond father passionately grasped her hand 
 as though by physical force he would prevent that spirit's eter- 
 nal retreat. She fixed her large black eyes on his anxious 
 face, and muttered " Je meurs." His arm was then round her 
 attenuated waist, he clasped her closer to his bosom, he grasped 
 her hand still firmer ; a gentle pressure — so gentle that it would 
 scarcely have discomposed the down on a feather, returned the 
 paternal pressure, and she breathed forth her soul in his em- 
 brace, and her pale, cold face fell like marble upon the now de- 
 solate bosom of her father. 
 
 From the first disclosure of her disorder — from the first mo- 
 ment when on entering that room which he had scarcely ever 
 left since for an instant, she had silently raised her hand and 
 showed the small, dark-red spot on her wrist, he had felt that 
 his child must die ; for days and sleepless nights he had watch- 
 ed the approaches of death, which he had every hour seen 
 coming nearer and nearer and more rapidly ; the voice of hope 
 had long been mute in his affectionate heart ; the grave was be- 
 fore his eyes ; but now that she was dead, he could not compre- 
 hend how it could be — how she, who but now, breathed and 
 spoke, and looked love and life, should be an inanimate, cold, 
 cold mass — how she, his own flesh and blood, should be sense- 
 less to his caresses and his despair — how she, so exquisitely 
 sensitive in body as in mind, should now feel no more than the 
 couch on which she reclined, or the wooden floor on which he 
 trod. But she was dead ! and all was over ! As long as tho 
 light of life flickered in the socket, though void of hope, ho 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 463 
 
 could find occupation ; and it was a relief to his fonc. and ach- 
 ing heart to busy himself about the person of his child, to wash 
 her plague ulcer, to sponge her burning neck and breast, to 
 humect her scorched lips, to administer her medicine or her 
 nutriment, to smoothen her bed, to raise her in his arms, to sup- 
 port her on his bosom, to press her burning, bursting forehead 
 with his hands, and to render, which he did alone, the very- 
 office of a nurse to his daughter — but now he had nothing to 
 do, no service to render, no exertion to make ; a fearful void 
 had fallen upon his heart, and he could only groan in impotent 
 despair ! But there was yet one office to perform — there was 
 yet another and the last — the last he could render on earth ! 
 and when the old Turk brought into the room the coffin which 
 had been procured for the "mortal coil," the all that remained 
 of so much beauty, and intelligence, and moral worth, the de- 
 voted father took the disfigured form of his child in his armt>— 
 in the affectionate arms in which she had breathed her last, and 
 himself laid her in that coffin, which he closed and secured 
 with his own hands. 
 
 In the countries of the east, even when there is no plague 
 raging, interment rapidly follows dissolution. On the evening 
 
 of the day of her death, Madame W was carried to the 
 
 Frank burying-ground above the extensive cypress grove, the 
 Turkish cemetery of Pera, than which, with its views of the 
 rapid Bosphorus that laves the foot of that hill, of the sea of 
 Marmora with its group of islands, and occasional glimpses at 
 sun-set of the Bithynian Olympus, there can scarcely be a fairer 
 spot on earth. Some few attached friends, who had been ap- 
 prized of the melancholy event, attended at the place of inter- 
 ment, to render their last testimonials of respect to a most ami- 
 able woman, and though they could not come in contact with 
 him, they spoke words of condolence and comfort to the be- 
 reaved father, as he arrived slowly following on foot the remains 
 of his daughter. 
 
 Among these gentlemen was Mr. C , the British Con 
 
 sul-General, an old and dear friend of Mr. Z . When 
 
 the coffin was lowered into the narrow grave — as the first earth 
 was thrown on the coffin which returned that hollow sound 
 the most awful and desolating the ear of affection can hear, 
 this dear friend renewed his offices of consolation. Up to this 
 moment the fond father had borne himself with astonishing 
 firmness and composure: — by the dying bed — by the lifeless 
 body of his child, he had not let a tear escape him ; m danger 
 and death he had done all that man could do, and the feelings 
 
464 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 of nature, a parent's feelings, had been controled by the sto:> 
 cisin of a man whose lot it had been to drink his full share from 
 the ever brimming bowl of human calamities ; but now thai 
 
 familiar and friendly voice of Mr. C , added to the effect 
 
 of the desolating sounds from the disappearing coffin, unnerv- 
 ed him completely ; the strength of heart and of head gave 
 way before them, and with a cry of anguish, and a momentary 
 access of insanity, the father rushed from his daughter's grave, 
 and ran towards the Turkish cemetery, utterly unconscious of 
 what he w r as doing. His friend, however, had every care taken 
 
 of him ; one of Mr. C 's Janissaries followed him, and after 
 
 the first burst of nature, easily induced him to return to Pera, 
 where he was obliged to condemn himself to a lonely and sor- 
 rowful quarantine, ere he could seek alleviation to his sorrows 
 in the bosom of his remaining family, or the society of his 
 friends. 
 
 When I was in Turkey, some three or four years had pass- 
 ed since this sad case of plague, and the infant of Madame 
 
 W had survived and grown to a lovely little girl, who 
 
 was often my pet companion.* But not only did the child who 
 
 was sleeping on her mother's bosom, and my friend Z , who 
 
 received her mother's dying breath, escape the dreadful conta- 
 gion, but all those relatives and friends who had been with Ma- 
 dame W and in close contact with her, when of a certain- 
 ty she had the plague upon her, were equally exempt from the 
 contagion. 
 
 This was in every way a striking case ; it was held by many 
 who had no pretensions to medical science, as a proof of the 
 non-contagion of the plague, and strongly assumed as such by 
 a scientific man, the late Dr. M'Lean, who devoted much of 
 his time, and finally lost his life in endeavors to ascertain the 
 real nature of this destructive and most mysterious disorder. 
 But Dr. M'Lean was guilty of an improper omission, for in 
 
 writing an account of Madame W 's case, he never men 
 
 tioned that a Greek servant girl some weeks after caught the 
 plague in the chamber in which she had died, and followed her 
 mistress to the grave. Mr. Madden, who was at Constantino- 
 ple at the time, and acquainted with the family, and who has 
 
 * At Therapia, a village on the Bosphorus, I was shown a little Greek girl, 
 who had been taken from sucking at her mother's breast, wnilst she had the 
 plague in full activity. The mother died of the disorder, which never attack- 
 ed the infant ! 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 465 
 
 mentioned the case in his book of Travels,* says " that several 
 
 weeks after Madame W 's death, when two servants were 
 
 sent te open the apartment, which had been closed, and to re- 
 move the bedding, one of them, immediately on entering", com- 
 plained of the closeness of the chamber ; next day she had the 
 plague, and died in some few days ;" but Mr. W , the hus- 
 band of the unfortunate lady, added to me, in reference to the 
 Greek girl, that, fatigued by the labors she had undergone in 
 opening and purifying the house, and oppressed by the heat of 
 the day, she had thrown herself down and reposed some time 
 on the matress on which her mistress had expired. In cases 
 like these, every accompanying circumstance, every detail, how- 
 ever minute, should be noted and given ; and the additional 
 fact stated by Mr. W will not perhaps be considered unim- 
 portant. 
 
 The result of my inquiries into the history of the plague at 
 Constantinople and elsewhere, would certainly go generally to 
 confirm the remarks with which Mr. Madden closes the case 
 of Madame W . " This is one of the many proofs (he al- 
 ludes of course, to Mr. Z her father,) I have had of the 
 
 influence of the mind over this disease. In no other complaint 
 is this influence so marked. The man who is apprehensive of 
 contagion is alw T ays the first to take this disease ; fear is the 
 predisposing cause of plague ; bad living and bodily debility 
 are the proximate causes of the susceptibility of pestilence. I 
 have always observed that those who were most deeply interest- 
 ed in the patient's fate ; his father, mother, or wife, and who 
 were constantly by Iks bed-side, were seldom attacked, while 
 the servants and strangers, who entered the room now and then, 
 were generally infected." Yet after this assertion of the prev- 
 alence of mind, and affection, Mr. Madden is obliged to sub- 
 join that he has known many Turkish houses in Constantino- 
 ple which have been shut up after the death of every individ- 
 ual within tlieir walls ; this also has been pointed out to me 
 at Smyrna as well as at the capital, and I have noted that the 
 houses that had been so desolated, were nearly without an excep- 
 tion the houses of Turks, who taice no precautions against the 
 plague, and can hardly be said to De possessed of the predispo- 
 sing cause of fear."f C. M. F. 
 
 * See Travels in Tuikey, &c., byR. R. Madden, Esq. vol. i. p. 2v2. The 
 death of the servant, it must be remarked, happened alter Mr. M. had left the 
 Turkish capital. 
 
 t It will be seen from the daily papers, and more fully from an interesting 
 communication from Constantinople, in the United Service Journal, for July 
 
466 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 EARTHQUAKE AT NEW MADRID IN 1812. 
 
 The following very interesting account of this earthquake is 
 extracted from Flint's " Ten Years in the Valley of the Mis- 
 sissippi. " 
 
 From all accounts, corrected one by another, and compared 
 with the very imperfect narratives which were published, I infer 
 hat the shock of these earthquakes in the immediate vicinity 
 of the center of their force, must have equaled, in the terrible 
 heavings of the earth, any thing of the kind which has been 
 recorded. I do not believe that the public have ever yet had 
 any adequate idea of the violence of these concussions. We 
 are accustomed to measures his by the buildings overturned, and 
 the mortality that results. Here this country was thinly settled. 
 The houses, fortunately, were frail and of logs, the most diffi- 
 cult to overturn that could be constructed. Yet as it was, whole 
 tracts were plunged into the bed of the river. The grave-yard 
 at New Madrid, with all its sleeping tenants, was precipitated 
 into the stream. Most of the houses were thrown down. 
 Large lakes of twenty miles in extent were made in an hour. 
 Other lakes were drained. The whole country, to the mouth 
 of the Ohio in one direction, and to St. Francis in the other, in- 
 cluding a front of three hundred miles, was convulsed to such 
 a degree as to create lakes and islands, the number of which is 
 not yet known — to cover a tract of many miles in extent, near 
 the Little Prairie, with water three or four feet deep ; and when 
 the water disappeared, a stratum of sand of the same thickness 
 was left in its place. 
 
 The trees split in the middle lashed one to another, and are 
 still visible over great tracts of country, inclining in every 
 direction, and in every angle to the earth and the horizon. 
 They describe the undulation of the earth as resembling 
 waves, increasing in elevation as they advanced, and when they 
 had attained a certain fearful height, the earth would burst, and 
 vast volumes of water and sand and pit coal, were discharged 
 as high as the trees. I have seen a hundred of these chasms, 
 which remain fearfully deep, although in a very tender alluvial 
 soil, and after a lapse of seven years. Whole districts were 
 covered with white sand, so as to become uninhabitable. The 
 
 that the Sultan has lately established a Quarantine, is preparing a magnifi- 
 cent Lazaretto, and is determined, despite of Mahometan prejudice, to adopt 
 all those precautions against the plague which are in use in civilized states. 
 He has associated Christians and Franks in this truly salutary task. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 467 
 
 water at first covered the whole country, particularly at the 
 Little Prairie ; and it must have been, indeed, a scene of horror, 
 in these deep forests, and in the gloom of the darkest night, and 
 by wading in the water to the middle, to fly from the concus- 
 sions, which were occurring every few hours, with a noise equal- 
 ly terrible to beasts and birds as to men. The birds them- 
 selves lost all. power and disposition to fly ; and retreated to the 
 bosoms of -rj3H, tneir fellow sufferers in this general convulsion. 
 
 There was a great number of severe shocks, but two series 
 of concussions were particularly terrible ; far more so than the 
 rest. And they remark that the shocks were clearly distin- 
 guishable into two classes ; those in which the motion was hori- 
 zontal, and those in which it was perpendicular. The Jatter 
 were attended with the explosions, and terrible mixture of noises 
 that preceded and accompanied the earthquakes in a louder 
 degree, but were by no means so desolating and destructive as 
 the other. When they were felt, the houses crumbled, the trees 
 waved together, the ground sunk, and all the destructive pheno- 
 mena were more conspicuous. In the interval of the earth- 
 quake there was one evening, and that a brilliant and cloudless* 
 one, in which the western sky was a continued glare of vivio. 
 flashes of lightning, and of repeated peals of subterranean 
 thunder, seeming to proceed, as the flashes did, from below the 
 horizon. They remark that the night so conspicuous for sup- 
 terranean thunder, was the same period in which the fataj 
 earthquake at Caraccas occurred, and they seem to suppose 
 hese flashes and that event parts of the same scene. 
 
 One result from these terrible phenomena was very obvious. 
 The people of this village had been noted for their profligacy 
 and impiety. In the midst of these scenes of terror, all, Catho- 
 lics and Protestants, praying and profane, became of one reli- 
 gion, and partook of one feeling. Two hundred people speak- 
 ing English, French, and Spanish, crowded together, their visa- 
 ges pale, the mothers embracing their children. As soon as the 
 omen that preceded the earthquake became visible — as soon as 
 the air became a little obscured, as though a sudden mist arose 
 from the east — all, in their different languages and forms, but all 
 deeply earnest, betook themselves to the voice of prayer. 
 
 The cattle, as much terrified as the rational creatures, crowd- 
 ed about the assemblage of men, and seemed to demand protec- 
 tion or community of danger. The general impulse, when the 
 shocks commenced, was to run ; and yet when they were at the 
 severest point of their motion, the people were thrown on the 
 ground at almost every step. 
 
468 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 The pc pie at the Little Prairie who suffered most, had ther" 
 settlement (which consisted of a hundred families, and whicn 
 was local d in a wide and very deep and fertile bottom) broken 
 up. Wb-.n I passed it, and stopped to contemplate the traces 
 of the ca f <astrophies which remained after seven years, the cre- 
 vices wh^re the earth had burst were sufficiently manifest, and 
 
 hewhol-j region was covered with sand to the depth of two or 
 three fee*. The surface was red with oxyded pyrites of iron, 
 and the ?and-blows, as they were called, were abundantly mix- 
 ed with this kind of earth, and with pieces of pit-coal. But 
 two families remained of the whole settlement. The object 
 seems to have been in the first paroxysms of alarm to escape to 
 the hilK at the distance of twenty-five miles. The depth of 
 
 he water that covered the surface soon precluded escape. 
 
 EARTHQUAKE AT CARACCAS IN 1812. 
 
 [From the British Magazine.] 
 
 This dreadful calamity occurred on the twenty-sixth of March, 
 1812, being in the Semana Santa, or holy week, when, as is 
 customary in Catholic countries, the inhabitants devoted them- 
 selves to religious ceremonies and festivity. The earlier portion 
 of each day was occupied in a splendid procession from one or 
 other of the principal churches ; business was almost entirely 
 suspended — the inhabitants appeared in their gayest attire — the 
 females and children were loaded with jewelry — the streets 
 were swept, and partially strew r ed with flowers ; and in the even- 
 ing the devotions of the day gave place to amusement and hila- 
 rity. The general festival continued without interruption until 
 the Thursday afternoon, when the fatal and unexpected convul- 
 sion of nature took place. The weather was peculiarly fine ; 
 the sun shone brightlly, but not oppressively, from the deep blue 
 sky, on the wide expanse of which not a cloud was to be seen. 
 The streets were gay with passengers, who sauntered along in 
 careless groups : there was no sign of approaching calamity ; and 
 it is not without awe that the writer of this narrative can revert 
 to the previous hour of happiness and fancied security, and con- 
 trast it with the desolation which a few seconds produced — 
 the prostration of that city in the dust and the immolation of 
 thousands of her inhabitants. 
 
 At about twenty minutes past four o'clock, the writer, m com- 
 pany with some friends, was standing at the outer door or gate- 
 
HISTORICAL CABIN1T. 469 
 
 way of a house in the city, expecting to be called to dinner, when 
 the commencement of the concussion was marked by a rum- 
 bling, smothered, and extraordinary noise, which it is difficult, if 
 not impossible, to describe, though its repetition would reach the 
 ears of those who heard it like a familiar knell. It might be 
 aptly called the groaning of an agonized world. This noise 
 we heard before we were sensible of any tremulous motion of 
 the earth; and one of my companions remarked that he heard a 
 troop of cavalry) which had been employed during the festivi- 
 ties) galloping down a neighboring street. As the horses and 
 mules in that country were seldom shod, we thought the conjec- 
 ture probable, and awaited the approach of the supposed caval- 
 cade. In a few seconds we were undeceived. The noise be- 
 came more and more proximate, distinct, and continuous, not 
 unlike internal thunder; and the earth began to tremble gently. 
 A native of the town, who lived in the house, and had just join- 
 ed us, now exclaimed, " Terramoto !" (an earthquake) — and 
 ihe trembling of the earth became every second more violent. 
 The house was a corner one, at the crossing of two streets. We 
 heard the walls crack, and pieces of the plaster fall upon the 
 floors. The trembling of the ground now amounted to sudden 
 jerks, which soon became so long and violent, that we could 
 with difficulty keep our feet. Our first impulse was to gain the 
 center of the crossing, so as to be as far distant as possible from 
 the walls ; and with some difficulty we gained that point ; whence 
 we perceived many of the inhabitants in the streets, some running 
 about in confusion — others kneeling in prayer. Amongst the 
 latter were a respectable old gentleman and his daughter, who 
 had run out for safety from a house next to ours on the north. 
 We beckoned and shouted to them to come to the spot where we 
 stood ; but they heard us not in their alarm. The corner house 
 on the south-west angle fell with a tremendous crash, burying 
 several of the inmates ; and the tiies of another were dashed down 
 in heaps at our feet. We instantly ascended the ruins for secu- 
 rity. Other buildings fell throughout the town, keeping up, for 
 a few moments, a continued crash of destruction. I observed 
 the front wall of the house, opposite to which the old man and 
 his daughter were kneeling, begin to totter. My heart throbbed 
 with apprehension, and we again earnestly strove to induce them 
 to join us. They were absorbed in prayer — -their words w r cre 
 audible, but no human power could now avail them — no human 
 speed could save. I saw the huge bulk of the wall loosened 
 from its foundation, thrown outward from its balance. It hung 
 a moment, as if reluctant to do its work, of destruction ; the next, 
 33 40 
 
470 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 unable longer to delay the sacrifice, it had, as if m mercy, with 
 noiseless precipitancy nearly reached the heads of its victims. 
 They did not appear to see it. I turned away with an involun- 
 tary groan. I heard its dead and ponderous fall. The old man 
 and his daughter were that instant crushed to pieces ! 
 
 The crashing of timber and tiles ; the falling of roofs, and 
 floors, and walls, mingled with the ejaculations of the affrighted 
 — and the screams of women and children were now appalling. 
 The earth moved more and more violently, in sudden and length- 
 ened jerks, which did not feel as if oscillatory, but to and fro in 
 a direct horizontal line. Thought, in such emergencies, rapid 
 in its conclusions as the passage of light, anticipated some terri- 
 ble, yet undefined consummation. There was, however, a calm- 
 ness depicted on the countenances of my friends. Sudden and 
 imminent as was the danger, the mind had accommodated itself 
 to wait with respectful awe and resignation, not unmingled with 
 curiosity, what it was apprehended might be the final explosion 
 of nature.* I observed several strangers near us ; some of them 
 appeared unconscious of their danger ; others wrung their 
 hands in distress, and called upon the names of their friends; 
 many gazed upon the mountains that overlooked the town, as if 
 they feared they would fall upon them ; and not a few were fear- 
 ful that the earth would open and swallow them up. At length 
 the concussions having reached their height, the tottering town 
 was shaken to pieces. There was one general and terrific crash 
 of falling materials, preceded by shrieks and cries of distress. 
 A brief silence ensued, and then the stifled groan, and the frantic 
 cry, smote the ears of the living The internal thunder gradually 
 became less audible, and the throes of the earth subsided to a 
 tremor which rapidly died away. When we found ourselves 
 again, in a literal sense, upon terra firma^ we entertained no 
 apprehension of a future shock ; and our first impulse was to as- 
 certain the extent of destruction, and to lend what assistance we 
 could in extricating those who might be yet alive beneath the 
 ruins. Nearly half of the city was thrown down, and the at- 
 mosphere was thickened with dust, which rose in every direction 
 and shrouded the afflictive scene from the view of the survivors, 
 but a gentle breeze sprang up from the westward, and soon en 
 ablcd us to behold the general devastation. 
 
 It may appear remarkable, that the whole of the fatalities anS 
 
 * The writer has witnessed a kindred feeling in cases of extreme dangei 
 at sea. 
 
 t The province is in Terra Firma, a name which the coast would not havt 
 Dbtained had Columbus known that it was subject to these awful convulsions 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 471 
 
 occurrences related, from the time of the first tremor of the earth 
 until the subsiding of the concussions, were comprehended in 
 the brief space of probably less than one minute ! Those, how- 
 ever, who have witnessed similar calamities, will admit that the 
 productions of ages of human industry may be destroyed in a 
 moment ; and those who have studied the operations of the human 
 mind, in the hour of peril and destruction, will as readily admit, 
 that worlds of thought, of dreadful agony, of awful suspense, 
 may, on such occasions, be comprised within the space of a few 
 fearful moments. Thus it is, that could the mind be stimulated 
 to its fullest activity throughout the average duration of life, the 
 moral existence of man would be- ^s it were, prolonged to com- 
 parative ages. 
 
 The part of the town in which we resided suffered less than 
 the suburbs, in which whole streets were razed to the ground, 
 and the ill-fated inhabitants buried in the ruins. Every house 
 that did not fall lost the roof, or was otherwise so much shatter- 
 ed that the apartments could be seen through the rents made in 
 the walls. The fronts of many that stood, hung in doubtful po- 
 sition towards the street, threatening to fall upon the unwary 
 passengers; and the cautious passed them on tiptoe, lest the 
 sound of their footsteps should bring them upon their heads. 
 The house we had inhabited was rent in many places ; the 
 plaster strewed the floors, and it would no doubt have fallen, had 
 it not been supported, in one of the principal apartments, by a 
 number of bags of coffee piled up nearly to the roof. The cloth 
 had been laid for dinner in one of the rooms, and an accidental 
 circumstance gave us a pretty accurate idea of the length and 
 direction of the concussions. The glasses had been inverted 
 on the table : some of them were thrown upon the floor; others 
 having in a manner maintained their position while the table 
 moved under them during the shock, and the lime and earthy 
 powder fell from the ceiling and walls, described circles at vari- 
 ous distances in the dust ; and, allowing for the probable vis in- 
 ertia of both glasses and table, and comparing these with the 
 effects upon ourselves, I conjecture that, at its extreme concus- 
 sion, the earth moved in a north-east and south-west direction, in 
 jerks of about eight inches in length. 
 
 It is worthy of remark, that though the earthquake was com- 
 paratively but slightly felt at Puerto Cabello, a distance of sixty 
 miles on the westward coast, from Caraccas, no fissure, or rent 
 of the earth, was ever discovered, so far as I could learn; and it 
 becomes a curious speculation to account for the absence of all 
 chasm or opening, on a continent, a portion of which has under- 
 
472 historical cabinet. 
 
 gone a violent horizontal concussion, while the surrounding 
 land has remained in a state of comparative quiescence. 
 
 After examining our shattered dwelling, we sallied forth to 
 explore the ruins of the town, and to lend our assistance where 
 it might be available. The scenes of suffering and desolation 
 were every where truly horrifying. Here, whole families 
 were buried alive, at a great and hopeless depth beneath the 
 ruins; there, were seen mangled bodies and limbs projecting 
 from the ruins. Some of the sufferers, whose cries and groans 
 were heard from beneath, were extricated alive ; some expired 
 on again beholding the light of day, and finding themselves 
 probably the last of their kindred; but the greater number who 
 did not escape, were crushed in a manner too dreadful to de- 
 scribe. Many of them were never recognized. Nearly all the 
 churches had come to the ground. That of La Merce (whence 
 a holy procession was that evening to have sallied) became the 
 tomb of hundreds. Many of the inmates would have escaped, 
 but the priests exhorted them to remain, in the belief that the 
 sanctuary was under the immediate protection of the Almighty. 
 The cries of the wounded, and the lamentations of the female 
 survivors, excited the compassion and roused the exertions of all 
 those who had not, from fear, betaken themselves to the fields. 
 The English, Americans, and other foreigners, (of whom 
 only one or two were killed,) lent all the aid in their power 
 and succeeded in dragging numbers of the sufferers from the 
 ruins. 
 
 It occurred to us that La Guayra might have experienced a 
 similar fate ; and as we were interested in the safety of a gen- 
 tleman of our establishment who resided there, it was agreed 
 that I should proceed thither, and obtain information respecting 
 him. I started on a young and headstrong mule. A consider- 
 able time was spent in endeavors to find my way out of the 
 town. So stupendous were the ruins in many places, where the 
 streets might be said to be obliterated amongst the general wreck, 
 that I was under the necessity of turning back from the site ol 
 one thoroughfare and trying another. Many of the front walls 
 of the houses had fallen into the streets, leaving the floors, with 
 the tables laid out for the repast, of which there were now no 
 guests to partake. When I reached the brow of the mountain, 
 a melancholy prospect of the city, with its bare and pointed frag- 
 ments of the walls, and its confused heaps of ruins, lay stretched 
 in awful silence before me. Immense masses of the mountain 
 had tumbled into the road, and blocked it up ; and in some 
 places the road itself had slid down from its site, forming steep 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 473 
 
 and dangerous breaks. These obstacles, however, sunk into in- 
 significance when associated with the perils of the past; and 
 with some difficulty and delay, I reached the summit of the 
 ascent soon after sunset. 
 
 The cottagers, who lived in straggling hamlets on the east 
 side of the mountain, had formed a religious procession on the 
 road, carrying lanterns, and frequently on their knees offering 
 thanks for their preservation to the Author of the Universe. The 
 moon shone brightly from a cloudless sky ; and the stillness of 
 the night, broken only by the hymns and prayers of these peo- 
 ple, and the distant roar of the sea in the bay below, impressed 
 more forcibly upon the mind the horrors of the late awful visit- 
 ation. This feeling was in no degree alleviated when I reached 
 the village of Maycatea. There, numbers of the dying and 
 wounded, who had either suffered on the spot, or had been car- 
 ried thither from La Guayra, lay on beds, in the open air, at- 
 tended by their distressed relatives. The road between the vil- 
 lage and the town was occupied by groups of the survivors, who 
 persisted in stopping my mule to learn the fate of Caraccas, but 
 could furnish no information of my friend. 
 
 La Guayra, I found on passing the drawbridge, had suffered 
 severely from the shock. Few of the houses were left standing, 
 or in a habitable state. The Custom-house (formerly the premi- 
 ses of the Philippine Company,) being a strong building, alone 
 withstood the concussion without being much injured. I met 
 with no one whom I recognized amongst the desolate ruins, un- 
 til I reached the open space in front of the church. The gentle- 
 man of whom I was in search, lived in an adjoining street, the 
 whole of which had come to the ground in a manner that ren- 
 dered it impossible to pass. A native merchant, however, in- 
 formed me, that he had escaped, and had gone on board one ot 
 his vessels then in the bay. Having thus accomplished the ob- 
 ject of my mission, I made the best of my way out of the town, 
 on my return to Caraccas, where my friends anxiously awaited 
 my return — apprehensive of the worst, from the rumors they 
 had already heard of the total destruction of La Guayra. My 
 mule started and plunged at the sight of a number of dead bodies 
 that had been extracted from the ruins, and were laid in rows in 
 the area near the church; and before I could dismount to lead 
 him, he trampled, in his terror, upon some others. Several in- 
 dividuals, who were watching these remains conceived that I 
 might have avoided the accident, and I had some difficulty to 
 persuade them that no indignity was intended. Fortunately for 
 my safety, I was recognized by a bystander as " bueno mucha 
 
 40* 
 
474 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 cho, — and every one was assiduous to assist me in leading the 
 mule through the intricate ruins to the highway. 
 
 My journey back to Caraccas was slow and laborious. The 
 moon had gone down before I reached the city, which was not 
 till two in the morning. I made several attempts to get over the 
 ruins in the dark, but without success, and I returned and 
 awaited the dawn in a field to which the survivors of many of 
 the most respectable families had retired to pass the night. At 
 day-break I hastened to relieve the anxiety of my friends, who, 
 I found, had been active during the night in assisting to extn 
 cate from the ruins many unfortunate beings who would other- 
 wise have perished. 
 
 All business was, for some months after this calamity, entirely 
 suspended. The inhabitants erected tents and booths in the 
 meadows near the town, which soon assumed the appearance ot 
 a large encampment. Days elapsed before many of the timid 
 would venture into the town for what furniture and effects they 
 could recover from the ruins of their houses, yet few articles, 
 though exposed, were stolen, the earthquake having impressed 
 the whole mass of the people with a sort of religious awe. The 
 supplies for the market were nearly stopped, and were so inade- 
 quate to the demand, and so dear, that individuals were, by some 
 establishments, employed to scour the country on horseback for 
 provisions ; and one of these the writer remembers to have re- 
 turned from a hard day's forage, with a solitary head of cabbage ! 
 
 It would be impossible to ascertain, with certainty, the num- 
 ber of persons who perished in the two towns, on the 26th of 
 March, as many who were missing afterwards made their ap 
 pearance — and no census of the population had been taken for 
 some years before. It was generally admitted that the deaths 
 amounted to from thirteen to fifteen thousand — though Hum- 
 boldt (who, however, had his information from others) estimates 
 them at some thousands more. 
 
 The bodies of the unfortunate sufferers in La Guayra were, 
 for three successive days, carried in large canoes outside the bay, 
 and committed to the deep. It was horrifying to seethe negroes 
 tossing the bodies of the promiscuous dead from the pier into the 
 vessels — some of them dreadfully mangled, others without appa- 
 rent bruise. None of them were stripped of their clothing, and 
 I observed amongst them the bodies of beautiful and well dressed 
 females, with the combs and ornaments still in their hair. On 
 the fourth day the sea rose so high that no canoe or boat could 
 •approach the shore without being swamped, and the bodies after 
 wards dug out were consumed on the beach by fire, to prevent 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET 475 
 
 pestilence — which method, together with mnumation in large 
 pits, was also adopted at Caraccas. Few of the bodies, however, 
 to which, owing to the height of the ruins, access could not 
 easily be effected, were for many months extracted. The re- 
 moval of such masses of rubbish, beams, and building materials 
 was necessarily a work of much labor and no small expense, 
 and where families were entirely buried alive, there was no one 
 to take an immediate interest in digging them out. A sort of 
 apathy succeeded to the first alarm of the surviving inhabitants, 
 and twelve months elapsed before the streets of La Guayra and 
 Caraccas were effectually cleared — an operation to which they 
 were roused by an opportune contrivance of the bishop. That 
 divine issued a sort of injunction that every one should aid in the 
 good work, preparatory to a general festival or thanksgiving, to 
 be observed throughout the country, with great solemnity, on 
 the anniversary of the earthquake, which was then at hand. 
 This measure had the desired effect : rich and poor gave their 
 assistance, and the writer saw even young ladies busily employed 
 in carrying off quantities of rubbish in their little baskets. The 
 ruins had been so long in heaps and hills, that they were inter- 
 sected by regular foot walks ; and it is remarkable that notwith- 
 standing the heat, and the number of bodies below, there was no 
 obnoxious smell, the absence of which is attributed to the earthy 
 materials of the houses in which they were buried, generally at 
 a considerable depth; and to the drugs and spirits here and 
 there dispersed from the crushed vessels that contained them in 
 shops and stores. The use of herbs is also very common in 
 that country, and the odor of these was, for many months per- 
 ceptible among the ruins. 
 
 On the 4th of April following (nine days after the great earth- 
 quake) a shock almost as violent as the first was experienced 
 throughout the province. This completed the destruction of La 
 Guayra, leaving only a few houses standing, and all of them 
 Except the Custom-house) so shattered as to be unsafe as habi 
 nations. When this happened the writer was with some friends, 
 sitting under an orange-tree on a plantation in the valley oi 
 Caraccas. The duration of the shock was probably more than a 
 minute, and it seemed to subside partially and again become 
 violent. 
 
 We were under the ridge of the mountains on the north, of 
 which we had a full view, and there was something fearfully 
 sublime in being sensibly rocked on so vast a bulk of matter. 
 On this occasion few, if any, individuals perished — a general 
 caution having been observed The villages in the vicinity of 
 
470 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 Caraccas were mostly leveled to the ground, but though the first 
 earthquake was felt as far to the westward as Carthagena, Puerto 
 Cabelio (before mentioned) sustained little injury by either of the 
 shocks. Frequent concussions of the earth, more or less severe, 
 were experienced in the province for nine months afterwards, 
 and many of these occurred about the same hour of the day. I 
 could not, however, trace them to any lunar influence, or to any 
 peculiar state of the atmosphere. The shocks were distinctly 
 felt on board of the vessels in the bay, and by others at a distance 
 of sixty or more miles from the land. When one severe shock 
 took place, I was with some friends in the cabin of a vessel 
 riding at anchor. We ran to the deck to witness its effects. 
 Presently the dust rose in columns from the ruins of the town, 
 and an immense mass of the mountain, with its superincumbent 
 weight of trees, was loosened from its site, and, sliding down the 
 declivity, it left a space, several acres in extent, of naked red soil 
 behind it. In the same j T ear a violent eruption of the volcano in 
 the island of St. Vincent took place, and ashes from the crater 
 were swept from the decks of vessels as far to windward of it 
 as Barbadoes, having doubtless been carried in that direction by 
 a stratum of wind at a greater altitude than the trade winds, 
 which blow from the E. N. E. This volcano, probably, some- 
 times operates as a sort of safety-valve for the escape of internal 
 combustion, and it is not unreasonable to suppose that it has a 
 submarine communication, or sympathy, with the proximate 
 high land of South America, and that its eruptions may some- 
 times tend to prevent earthquakes, or reduce their violence, m 
 that quarter. 
 
 Without here endeavoring to attribute these awful convulsions 
 of nature to the effects of internal combustion, the expansion of 
 confined air or gas, electricity, or other conjectural causes, which 
 geologists have hitherto failed, satisfactorily, to demonstrate — it 
 is impossible to reflect on the immense bulk and weight of the 
 stupendous mountains, and prodigious extent of land, in Vene- 
 zuela, thus agitated, as it were, but as the leaf of the aspen 
 quivering in the wind, without a sublime idea of the incompre- 
 hensible power of the great God of Nature, and a humiliating 
 sense of the pigmy efforts of man, with aL his scientific appliance* 
 of the elements and matter placed under his control ! 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 477 
 
 THE EXECUTION OF CALAS. 
 
 My dear Spangrier,! — I took up my pen yesterday to 
 write to you, but could not; it was not that I wanted matter to 
 relate, but firmness to relate it. Now don't be frightened by 
 this, nor suppose some calamity has befallen yours or mine ; 
 though indeed the murder of the innocent is your affair, and 
 mine, and every one's. I think you once congratulated me, or 
 reproached me with, (I forget which) my strong nerves. Had 
 you seen me yesterday, you would never again do so ; strong 
 as they might be, poor Calas proved too strong for them. You 
 must have heard his execution was determined on ; and you 
 have probably heard it was deserved. Oh, my friend ! you did 
 not see him die — I did, and in his death, his acquittal. Guilt 
 could never yet so mimic innocence, but that the last scene 
 would lift the mask ; never, if death be a cheat, did he look so 
 honest as here. What a grievous thing to have the weight of 
 innocent blood to account for ! yet surely Calas' judges have 
 that to answer for. A thousand exchequers, to my thinking, 
 could not buy out a drop of it ; a thousand battles could not 
 show horror equal to it. When justice is guided by bigotry 
 to the destruction of innocence, she well deserves to be painted 
 blind ; an antidote becomes a poison ; a cure, a plague ; and a 
 blessing, a bitter curse. I thought I had so often looked death 
 in the face, that his ugliest grimace could not scare ; and that 
 after having so often dared him and seen him dared, so often 
 inflicted him and seen him inflicted, I must have met him in 
 his worst form. But, no ! I had not seen virtue fall by the 
 hand of power, without the consolation of a tear, without the 
 reputation of a martyr. Time, they say, wears out all sorrows; 
 but his art must exceed my faith, if he can ever efface the 
 sorrow of good Calas broken on the wheel ! The effect on me 
 was such as I cannot express. It is so deeply fastened in my 
 breast, that I cannot lay it upon my paper ; nor can I turn my 
 
 * Calas was a merchant at Toulouse, of the reformed religion, broken on 
 the wheel upon a false accusation, originating in his supposed hatred of his 
 son (who had committed suicide) for being of the Catholic religion, and on 
 that account, accused of murdering him. The story of the protection of his 
 family by Voltaire, and of the reversal of the infamous sentence upon him, 
 must be familiar to our readers. We think of the execution of Riego when 
 we read this. 
 
 t This, says the chronicle, is the name of the ecclesiastic in the canton of 
 Berne, to whom this letter was written, and by whom it was communicated. 
 The writer was the famous cavalry officer, Le Fualde Conte, mentioned by 
 Frederic in his History of the Seven Years' War. 
 
47S HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 thoughts from it. It is still obtruding itself upon my imagina 
 tion. You know how you feel after reading a horrible ro- 
 mance ; that may give you a faint idea of my state — one painful 
 thought suggests a worse. When I think on Calas, I think of 
 his gray hairs — then of his words — then of his groans — but a 
 truce to sentiment — I will describe. 
 
 Obliged to join my troop, which were attending the execu- 
 tion, I mounted Fontabres more tardily than I should have 
 done for a charge, hoping all might be over when I reached 
 the square j but, alas ! the genius of cruelty is too subtil a plan- 
 ner to be overreached by plain thinking, too skilled an epicure 
 to devour her food ; she loves, by mumbling it, to prolong her 
 pleasure, yet is she not to be satisfied with a bare taste ! but, 
 enough ! She may be said, without a metaphor, to gnaw the 
 very bones ; she was this time too cunning for me ; she had but 
 just lifted the curtain when I took my seat. When I reached 
 the square, I found it blockaded by persons of all ranks, for 
 this trial had excited universal admiration. The great majority, 
 however, were of the lower order, and of them the plurality 
 were women, for I have always remarked, the fair sex, though 
 averse perhaps to the acting of a tragedy, are greedy of its 
 representation. My uniform, however, was my passport, and 
 making way on all sides, they suffered me to canter up to my 
 post at the head of the squadron that lined the scaffold. Front- 
 ing me stood the instrument of torture ; but as such a thing, I 
 am sure, never yet met the eyes of the pastor of Rulligen, a 
 description may be necessary. Imagine a wheel of iron about 
 two feet in diameter, so broad that a man could lie on it, and 
 yet not broad enough for him to lie easily, the circumference 
 grooved crosswise at regular intervals, so that the blow from 
 the crow-bar of the executioner might be the more certain to 
 break the limb or splinter it more effectually ; this w r heel raised 
 above the level of the scaffolding half a foot by means of chains 
 made fast from the axis, at either side, to iron posts at the in- 
 terval of six feet. The wheel is of hammered iron, and so 
 weighty that though elevated as I mentioned, it requires no in- 
 considerable force to swing it. It is elevated in order to enable 
 the criminal's body to perform the circuit of the machine, and 
 an apparatus is provided for stretching the human body to the 
 completion of the circle. This engine was further defaced by 
 the gouts of blood and moldering flesh which the last occupant 
 had left as his memorial on its circumference. In the back 
 ground two inferior artists in death held between them the 
 manacled culprit. A chubby-faced mayor, in whom custom 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 47C 
 
 and obesity seemed to have stifled all painful feelings, sat erect in 
 his chair, to the right, with watch in hand, awaiting the moment 
 to begin the torture. On the other side, a tall monk of the or- 
 der of La Trappe, whose stern but- contemplative countenance 
 formed a powerful contrast to the city magistrate, was silently 
 surveying the preparations, sometimes casting a searching look 
 to the criminal, sometimes muttering an articulate prayer from 
 the missal which he held in his bony hand. 
 
 The executioner, a horrid fellow, with a face veritably a hang- 
 man's, was busied in his appalling preparations. His dress, 
 his make, his physiognomy, all were in unison with his char- 
 acter. His dress, like his bloody trade, was scarlet, closely fit- 
 ted to his trunk, and setting in the fullest light the gigantic pro- 
 portions of his frame — his heavy and unwieldy feet, his tremen- 
 dous arms and brawny shoulders. His country I understand is 
 Germany, and, indeed, his face presented the beau ideal of a 
 German, given by the most violent libelers of the nation. In- 
 sensibility and brutish stupidity vied in his countenance with a 
 ferocious admiration of sottish enjoyment ; such a man as would 
 break you on a wheel for his amusement, and drink himself 
 into insensibility for his pleasure. His face, which seemed to 
 have been supernaturally enlarged at the lower extremity for the 
 reception of a hideous mouth, was roughly shaved for this occa- 
 sion save under the chin, from which the shaggy and unkempt 
 hair luxuriantly hung in filthy curls, so as to conceal complete- 
 ly his bull-like neck. Gradually narrowing to the top, what 
 should have been his forehead formed the peak of a cone, in 
 which two closely-set eyes rolled palely and leeringly on their 
 sunken axes with an unfeeling glare and celerity of evolution, 
 which formed a striking contrast to the unwieldiness of his other 
 motions. His very name, Hans Boucher, was in character, and 
 must excite an association even in a man not given to punning. 
 He was occupied in binding his victim with no gentle grip to the 
 hellish machinery I have been describing, and binding his legs 
 above the ankles to the iron with such pressure that the blood 
 stood black in the extremities of his feet ; he returned to his stool 
 waiting for the next signal of the magistrate to bind his hands. 
 There was a mighty feeling in the crowd against the condemn- 
 ed man ; " The murderer of his son," resounded from all sides, 
 and the gamut of exultation broke sullenly in varied cadence 
 from the mass of beholders, at the prospect of his approaching 
 punishment. I was anxious to observe the behavior of the cri- 
 minal ; it was not that of a man conscious of an unpardonable 
 crime. He turned his swimming eyes and hoary locks to the 
 
480 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 crowds and blessed them. The magistrate gave the sigiw., and 
 the unhappy sufferer was made fast to the engine by his dread- 
 ful attendant, and so stretched that his body, his hands and feet 
 meeting, describe the circumference of the wheel. The man 
 of death then stood beside him awaiting the signal to begin his 
 horrible chastisement. The monk, who had been for some time 
 enraged in prayer, rose from his knees, and thinking this a fit 
 time to address the criminal when death had made sure of him, 
 ere it began its operations, slowly approached and coldly bade 
 him think upon his sins. I think I shall be able to give you 
 the conversation as it fell from them, for it made too great an 
 impression on me to be soon forgotten. " I have thought on 
 them, father," returned Calas, " for could I think I had none, I 
 would lie here entirely happy, although," added he, looking 
 round, " happiness does not often make her couch thus." " We 
 are all sinners," replied the friar, " but thou art a mighty one." 
 " I acknowledge it," said Calas, "but I thank Heaven, I can 
 never acknowledge the crime for the which ye have brought me 
 here." " Sinful brother," answered the monk, " thy debt is griev- 
 ous, and thy creditor is urgent, thy time is short, but thy account 
 is long." " I know it," replied Calas, " and therefore will not 
 plunge myself into deeper embarrassment by acknowledging an 
 item more monstrous than all that debt; well I know my time 
 is short, for were it stretched out until that sun, which is now 
 shedding his last beams upon me, should have reverted from his 
 travel to the spot he now holds in heaven, it would be too little 
 to clear the arrears which have been gathering on this head 
 during sixty-five such courses: well I know that my time is 
 short." " Clear as that sun-light which thou blasphemously 
 call' st to witness, and certain as the death which surely awaits 
 thee, thou man of sin, is the truth of thy horrible crime in the 
 eyes of all men. What a fool art thou then, when all men are 
 justly thine enemies, to refuse the peace of one whose friendship 
 is yet open to thee, and to reject that balm which can alone sooth 
 thy broken bones ! Know'st thou not, how all hate thee 1 feel'st 
 thou not that thou deserv'st all hatred? and dost thou, for the 
 forlorn hope of deceiving men, cast away the true stay of the 
 Almighty, who has given to his ministers the power of absolv 
 ing sinners, though dyed, if possible, deeper than thou art." 
 
 " I see," replied the Protestant, "that all men hate me, and 
 that I can still pray for them suggests a hope that I am not 
 so all-abandoned of God's spirit as thou wouldst have me 
 think. I cannot, my good father, accept of thy mediation, 
 nor acknowledge thy ministry; yet may I thank, and I do 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 481 
 
 thank thy good intentions; but death, though he meet me in 
 fouler raiment than he," turning his eyes towards '.he execution- 
 er, " has clad him in, cannot be avoided when tb s alternative is 
 perjury." Here the conversation was interrupted by the magis- 
 trate's signal to the deathsman to begin his murderous work. 
 The giant lifted a club of iron, and with it struck the extended 
 limb of his victim. Never till that moment did I understand the 
 full force of the text which says, "the iron entered into his soul." 
 You cannot conceive the intense suffering depicted through the 
 leaving trunk and on the convulsed features, by this bruising 
 >etween iron and iron. The blow took effect at the knee-joint, 
 r .rA, though given with force, was not intended quite to break the 
 ^g, but merely to try the spirit of the sufferer, and to give a 
 uecimen of what was to follow. The mayor, however, seem- 
 ed afraid he had begun too violently, and beckoning Boucher, 
 .laid in an under tone, " Unless you make the culprit last the two 
 hours, you lose your place." Boucher replied with a leer ol 
 horrid purport, which triumphed in gaging human suffering, 
 ai;d, resting on his arms, stood awaiting further orders. How- 
 ever, the sufferer resumed his composure, the monk his lecture. 
 " Thir.k, my son," said he in a softer tone, "how little able art 
 thou in this case of flesh and blood to abide the torments this 
 worm of the earth can inflict; how then will thy immortal spi- 
 rit, and sensitive essence endure the eternal bruisings of God's 
 wrath ? Repent, my son, while there is a way left, or one to 
 show it thee. Thou art one of the many who have lived in 
 abominable heresy, and one of the few who have taken life from 
 them to whom under God thou gavest it. Living thus, and do- 
 ing this, thou couldst not be saved unless by a double repentance. 
 Oh, then, hove doubly damned thou diest — a heretic in creed ! a 
 murderer in *>eart! Murderer of a son, I will reconcile thee to 
 thy Father." As the man of God proceeded, a temporary enthu- 
 siasm animated his features; the salvation of a sinner so far over- 
 coming the apathy with which he usually looked on earthly things, 
 as partly to dispel ihe sullenness which commonly wrapped his 
 mind, in the same Icgree as you may suppose his solitary lamp 
 to have illuminateu tb« cold damp walls of his monastery, as he 
 glided to vespers. With kindling animation he ran through his 
 discourse, urging all tka arguments that memory could supply, 
 or imagination suggest, /or the conversion of the sinner, or the 
 terror of the heretic. " I thank thee for thy honest pains." said 
 in answer the patient Ca?as, "but the terms I accept not; though 
 it mignt procure me a quiet death, it would not insure me a 
 more peaceful grave. I thank my God, I am of a sect which 
 
 41 
 
482 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 does not think them damned who do not in all things like them* 
 selves ; and I thank my conscience that it acquits me of the foul 
 crime for which, if committed, damnation were my due." " Ob- 
 stinate heretic! ' muttered the father; and the second blow fell 
 with a heavy hand. I had turned away, not equal to the sight, 
 when the din of the iron against the bone, and the groan which 
 followed, convinced me it had been more violent than the first; 
 in truth, it had completely broken the leg at the tibia ; so exqui- 
 site was the torture, that he fainted instantly, but as quickly re- 
 covered. He uttered no articulate complaint, and it was only 
 by the painful compression of his lips, and the starting of his 
 eye-balls, that the agony of his spirit could be discerned. 
 
 But I must, my dear Spalingrier, pass quickly over this dis- 
 tressful tragedy, which was two hours in the acting. The blows 
 occurred at regular intervals of fifteen minutes, with such dire- 
 ful effect that, after the eighth stroke, every joint in his body was 
 dislocated, and every bone broken. He frequently fainted, and 
 was as often recovered by the diabolical skill of his tormentor, 
 who employed all the arts of the most practiced physician to de- 
 tain the flickering beam of exhausted nature. I think he look- 
 ed less horrible when engaged in the open functions of his office, 
 crushing flesh and marrow, than when employing all the most 
 refined arts of usual kindness for the prolongation of misery ; 
 nor can I ever forget the smile with which he ushered in return- 
 ing sense after the eighth horrible interval. The stern disciple 
 of La Trappe looked at the opening eyes of the tortured, and 
 saw that in ten minutes they were to close for ever. He kneel-, 
 ed beside him, and conjured him to sever himself from his sin. 
 The old man, with a voice firm as heretofore, turned himself, as 
 far as he was able, to the confessor, " Think' st thou, my father," 
 said he, " that it were worth my while for these shreds of being, 
 these rags of existence," moving as he spoke his shattered right 
 arm, "to throw myself impenitently into the furnace that ever 
 burneth? Of what service is concealment now to me? it can- 
 not conciliate the good-will of man, it must have already dou- 
 Dled the anger of God ; it cannot bring me back to my family, 
 and much I fear," said the good man, with the first tear I had 
 seen him shed, "it will not save my family from following me. 
 Of what service the further concealment?" "For Heaven's 
 sake then," cried the monk in a voice tremulous with emotion, 
 " confess and be saved, for your last minute is counting." " Were 
 my life to be granted me," continued Calas calmly, " what boor 
 would n be? what, but to transport these fragments of a man to 
 a more languishing couch ? What, but to change this decisive 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 483 
 
 physician for a tedious death-bed, and to barter the strokes of the 
 iron for the loathsomeness of the gangrene? I wish not for 
 this — I will make my dying confession." " Do, for God's sake," 
 reiterated the friar. " But wilt thou trust to it utterly ?" said 
 Calas. " Though it were to contradict my firmest thoughts," 
 replied the friar, stooping towards the dying man, " I would not 
 doubt it." " I am innocent !" answered Calas, and grasping the 
 friar's fingers in his clammy hand, he swooned away. A tear 
 forced itself from between the sunken lids of the ecclesiastic, un- 
 used to such moisture since he had first stooped within his nar- 
 row cell ; it stood upon his pale cheek for a moment as if doubt- 
 ing how to shape its course over so unknown a track, or as if 
 frozen at its source by the severity of his brow. He shed but 
 that one tear ! but it was the widow's mite ! it was all he had ! 
 Lifting his eyes towards the magistrate, he muttered a request 
 for the Coup-de-grace. The magistrate nodded to the execution- 
 er, and Boucher again heaved his weapon. The weight of the 
 iron and the force of the blood burst at once all the arteries of 
 the stomach, and crushed the vertebra3 ; the blood gushed in tor- 
 rents from his eyes, his mouth, his ears — a gasp convulsed his 
 frame — a groan — one gasp more — and he had ceased to suffer. 
 The man of God eyed for a moment the bleeding visage, where 
 blood had not quenched the gentle flame of resignation ; then 
 threw his look upwards, then downwards on the assembly, and, 
 with finger slowly raised, and voice of thrilling expression, de- 
 clared — " A righteous soul has taken flight !" — " Voila Vame dn 
 juste qui Jenvole!" 
 
 AN AFFECTING AND AUTHEN- 
 TIC NARRATIVE. 
 
 [By an Eys-witness.] 
 
 On Tuesday, February 22d, 1831, a violent detonation was 
 suddenly heard in the coal mine of Bois-Monzil, belonging to 
 M. Robinot. The waters from the old works rushed impetuous- 
 ly along the new galleries. "The waters, the waters!" su3h 
 was the cry that resounded from the affrighted workmen through- 
 out the mine. Only ten miners out of twenty-six were able to 
 reach the entrance. One of them brought off in his arms, a 
 boy eleven years old, whom he thus saved from certain death ■ 
 another, impelled by the air and the water, to a considerable dis- 
 tance could scarcely credit his e^oape from such imminent dan- 
 
484 HISTORICAL CABINET 
 
 ger ; a third rushed forward with his sack full of coals on his 
 shoulders, which, in his fright, he had never thought of throw- 
 ing down. 
 
 The disastrous news, that sixteen workmen had perished in 
 the mine of M. Robinot, was soon circulated in the town of St. 
 Etienne*. It was regarded as one of those fatal and deplorable, 
 eveir.s, unfortunately, too common in that neighborhood, and on 
 the ensuing Thursday it was no longer talked of. Politics and 
 the state of parties in Paris, exclusively occupied the public at- 
 tention. 
 
 The engineers of the mines, however, and some of their pu- 
 pils, who, on the first alarm, had hastened to the spot, still re- 
 mained there, continuing their indefatigable endeavors to disco- 
 ver the miners who were missing. Nothing that mechanical 
 science, manual labor, and perseverance, prompted by humanity, 
 could perform, was left undone. 
 
 Thirty hours had already elapsed since the fatal accident, when 
 two workmen announced the discovery of a jacket and some 
 provisions belonging to the miners. The engineers immediate- 
 ly essayed to penetrate into the galleries where these objects had 
 been found, which they accomplished with much difficulty, by 
 crawling on their hands and feet. In vain they repeatedly call- 
 ed aloud ; no voice save the echo of their own, answered from 
 those narrow and gloomy vaults. It then occurred to them to 
 strike with their pick-axes against the roof of the mine. Still 
 the same uncheering silence ! Listen ! yes ! the sounds are 
 answered, by similar blows! Every heart beats, every pulse 
 quickens, every breath is contracted ; yet, perhaps, it is but an 
 illusion of their wishes — or, perhaps, some deceitful echo. They 
 again strike the vaulted roof. There is no longer any doubt. 
 The same number of strokes is returned. No words can paint 
 the varied feelings that pervaded every heart! It was (to use 
 the expression of a person present) a veritable delirium of joy, 
 of fear, and of hope. 
 
 Without losing an instant, the engineers ordered a hole to be 
 bored in the direction of the galleries where the miners were 
 presumed to be ; at the same time they directed, on another point 
 the formation of an inclined well, for the purpose of communi- 
 cating with them. 
 
 Two of the engineers' pupils were now dispatched to the 
 mayor of St. Etienne, to procure a couple of fire-pumps, which 
 
 * St. Etienne, a manufacturing town for hardware, and ribins, with apopu- 
 •ation of 100,000 souls ; the Birmingham and Coventry of France. It is situ- 
 ated on the banks of the T.oire. 
 

 ll|i|R 
 
 
 1 ; 
 
 'i/^BwTSiH^' 
 
 HWi 
 
 
 j 
 
 
 %gm mm 
 
 WHaafiiitfiii ■ i mfW 
 
 
 
 
 
 Miners of Bois-Monzil.— Page 485. 
 
 Reyolution in ^aris, 1830.— Page 503. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 485 
 
 they conducted back to the mine, accompanied by two firemen. 
 In the ardor of youthful humanity, these young men imagined 
 th-tt the deliverance of the miners was but the affair of a few 
 hours ; and, wishing to prepare an "agreeable surprise" for the 
 friends of the supposed victims, they gave strict injunctions at 
 the mayoralty to keep the object of their expedition a profound 
 secret. 
 
 Notwithstanding the untiring efforts made to place these 
 pumps in the mine, it was found impossible. Either they were 
 upon a plane too much inclined to admit of their playing with 
 facility, or the water was too muddy to be received up the pipes; 
 they were therefore abandoned. In the mean time, the attempts 
 made to reach the miners by sounding, or by the inclined well, 
 seemed to present insurmountable difficulties. The distance to 
 them was unknown ; the sound of their blows on the roof, far 
 from offering a certain criterion, or, at least, a probable one, 
 seemed each time to excite fresh doubts; in short, the rock 
 which it was necessary to pierce was equally hard and thick, 
 and the gunpowder unceasingly used to perforate it, made but 
 a hopeless progress. The consequent anxiety that reigned in 
 the mine may be easily conceived. Each of the party, in his 
 turn, offered his suggestions, sometimes of hope, sometimes of 
 apprehension, and the whole felt oppressed by that vague sus- 
 pense, which is, perhaps, more painful to support than the 
 direst certainty. The strokes of the unfortunate miners con- 
 tinued: to reply to theirs, which added to their agitation, from 
 the fear of not being able to afford them effectual help. They 
 almost thought that in such a painful moment, their situation 
 was more distressing than those they sought to save, as the lat- 
 ter were, at any rate, sustained by hope. 
 
 While most of the party were thus perplexed by a ciowd of 
 disquieting ideas, produced by the distressing nature of the 
 event itself, and by their protracted stay in a mine where the few 
 solitary lamps scarcely rendered " darkness visible," the work- 
 men continued their labors with redoubled ardor ; some of them 
 were hewing to pieces blocks of the rock, which fell slowly 
 and with much difficulty ; others were actively employed in 
 boring the hole before named, whilst some of the engineers' 
 apprentices sought to discover new galleries, either by creeping 
 on " all fours," or by penetrating through perilous and narrow 
 crevices and clefts of the rock. 
 
 In the midst of their corporeal and mental labors, their at- 
 tention was suddenly excited from another painful source. The 
 wives of the hapless miners had heard that all hope was not 
 
 41* 
 
486 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 extinct. They hastened to the spot ; with heart-rending cries, 
 and through tears alternately of despair and hope, they exclaim- 
 ed, " Are they all there 1" " Where is the father of my chil- 
 dren ? Is he amongst them, or has he been swallowed up by 
 the waters?" 
 
 At the bottom of the mine, close to the water-reservoir, a con- 
 sultation was held on the plan to be pursued. Engineers, pu- 
 pils, workmen, all agreed that the only prospect of success con- 
 sisted in exhausting the water, which was already sensibly 
 diminished, by the sole working of the steam-pump ; the other 
 pumps produced little or no effect, notwithstanding the vigor- 
 ous efforts employed to render them serviceable. Somebody 
 then proposed remedying the failure of these pumps by une 
 chaine a bras, viz. by forming a line, and passing buckets from 
 one to the other ; this method was adopted, and several of the 
 pupils proceeded with all speed to St. Etienne. It was mid- 
 night. The generate was beat in two quarters of the town 
 only. The Hotel de Ville was assigned as the place of ren- 
 dezvous. On the first alarm a great number of persons hur- 
 ried to the town-hall, imagining a fire had broken out, but on 
 ascertaining the real cause, several of them returned home, 
 apparently unmoved. Yet these very same persons, whose sup- 
 posed apathy had excited both surprise and indignation, quick- 
 ly re-appeared on the scene, dressed in the uniform of the Na- 
 tional Guard. So powerful is the magic influence of organ- 
 ized masses, marching under the orders of a chief, and stimu- 
 lated by V esprit de corps. 
 
 It was truly admirable to see with what address and rapidity 
 me three or four hundred men, who had hastened to Bois-Mon- 
 zil, passed and repassed the buckets, by forming a chain to the 
 bottom of the mine. But their generous efforts became too fa- 
 tiguing to last long. Imagine a subterranean badly lighted, 
 where they were obliged to maintain themselves in a rapid de- 
 scent, in a stooping posture, to avoid striking their heads against 
 the roof of the vault, and, most of the time, up to the middle 
 in the water, which was dripping from every side ; some idea 
 may then be formed of their painful situation. They were re- 
 lieved from this laborious duty by the Garde Nationale of St. 
 Etienne, whose zeal and enthusiasm exceeded all praise. But 
 a more precious reinforcement was at hand ; the workmen from 
 the adjacent mines now arrived in great numbers. From their 
 skill and experience everything might be expected; if they 
 foiled there was no further hope. 
 
 The chaiiu a bras was again renewed by companies of the 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 487 
 
 National Guard, relieved every two hours, who, at respective 
 distances, held the lights, and under whose orders they acted. 
 It was a cheering- spectacle to behold citizens of all ranks en- 
 gaged in one of the noblest offices of humanity, under the di- 
 rection of poor colliers. 
 
 The immense advantages of the organization of the National 
 Guard, were never more strikingly exemplified than on this occa- 
 sion. Without them there would have been no means or pos- 
 sibility of uniting together an entire population; of leading the 
 people from a distance of more than three miles, night and day, 
 so as to insure a regular and continued service ; all would have 
 been trouble and confusion. With them, on the contrary, every 
 thing was ready, and in motion, at the voice of a single chief- 
 and the whole was conducted with such precision and regular- 
 ity as had never, on similar occasions, been witnessed before. 
 
 The road from St. Etienne to Bois-Monzil, exhibited a scene 
 of the most animated kind. In the midst of the motley and 
 moving multitude, the National Guards were seen hurrying to 
 and fro ; chasseurs, grenadiers, cavalry, and artillerymen, all 
 clothed in their rich new costume, as on a field day. Some of 
 the crowd were singing la Parisienne, others were lamenting, 
 praying, hoping, despairing, and, by "fits and starts," abandon- 
 ing themselves to those opposite extravagances of sentiment 
 so peculiarly characteristic of a French population. When 
 night drew her sable curtains around, the picturesque of the 
 scene was still more heightened. Fresh bands of miners, 
 conducted by their respective chiefs, coming in from every side ; 
 their sooty visages lighted up by glaring torches ; National 
 Guards arriving from different parts of the country, to join 
 their comrades of St. Etienne ; farmers and peasants, on horse- 
 back and afoot hastening to offer their humane aid ; sentinels 
 posted — muskets piled — watch-fires blazing, and, in short, the 
 tout ensemble rendered the approaches of Bois-Monzil, like a 
 bivouac on the eve of an expected battle ; happily, however, the 
 object of these brave men was to preserve life, and not to de- 
 stroy it. It is but just to render homage here to the worthy cure 
 of St. Villars, who, in his simple clerical dress, mingled every 
 where with the anxious throng, exhorting and encouraging 
 them in their " good work," both by precept and example: 
 
 "He had no bigot's pride— no sectary's whim ; 
 Christian and countryman were all to him." 
 
 On Saturday the chaine a bras was discontinued, as the en- 
 gineers had now brought the pumps effectually to work. Sud- 
 
488 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 denly a cry of joy was echoed from mouth to mouth : " They 
 are saved ! they are saved ! six of them are freed froi: their 
 subterraneous prison!" shouted a person at the entrance of the 
 mine. The rumor was instantly repeated along the crowd, and 
 a horseman set off at full speed for St. Etienne, with the grati- 
 fying news ; another followed and confirmed the report of his 
 predecessor. The whole town was in motion, and all classes 
 seemed to partake of the general joy, Avith a feeling as if each 
 had been individually interested. In the exuberance of their 
 delight they were already deliberating on the subject of a. fete, 
 to celebrate the happy event, when a third horseman arrived. 
 The multitude thronged round him expecting a more ample 
 confirmation of the welcome tidings. But their joy was soon 
 turned to sorrow, when they were informed that nothing had 
 yet been discovered, save the dead bodies of two unfortunate 
 men," who, together had left eleven children to lament their un- 
 timely fate ! 
 
 On Sunday, the workmen continued their labor with equal 
 zeal and uncertainty as before. A sort of inquietude and hope- 
 lessness, however, occasionally pervaded their minds, which 
 may be easily accounted for, from the hitherto fruitless result < 
 of their fatiguing researches. Discussions now took place on 
 what was to be done ; differences of opinion arose on the va- 
 rious plans proposed, and, in the mean time, the sounds of the 
 hapless victims from the recesses of the rocky cavern, continu- 
 ed to be distinctly audible. Every moment the embarrassment 
 and difficulties of the workmen increased. The flinty rock 
 seemed to grow more impenetrable ; their tools either broke, or 
 became so fixed in the stone, that it was frequently impossible 
 to regain them. The water filtered from all parts, through the 
 narrow gallery they were perforating, and they even began to 
 apprehend another irruption. 
 
 Such was the state of things on Monday morning, when, at 
 four o'clock, an astounding noise was heard, which re-echoed 
 throughout the whole extent of the mine. A general panic 
 seized on every one ; it was thought that the waters had forced 
 si new issue. A rapid and confused flight took place ; but, 
 iuckily, their fears were soon allayed on perceiving that it was 
 Duly an immense mass of rock, detached from the mine, which 
 had fallen into a draining-well. This false alarm, however 
 operated in a discouraging manner, on the minds of the work- 
 men; and it required some management to bring them back 
 jo their respective stations, and to revive that ardor and con- 
 stancy, which they had hitherto so admirably displayed. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 489 
 
 They had scarcely renewed their endeavors lo bore through 
 the rock, when suddenly one of them felt the instrument drawn 
 from his hands, by the poor imprisoned miners. It was indeed, 
 ,o them, the instrument of deliverance from their cruel situation. 
 Singular to relate, their first request was neither for food ncr 
 drink, but for light, as if they were more eager to make use of 
 their eyes, than to satisfy the pressing wants of appetite ! It 
 was now ascertained that eight of the sufferers still survived ; 
 and this time an authentic account of the happy discovery was 
 dispatched to St. Etienne, where it excited the most enthusiastic 
 demonstrations of sympathy and gladness. But there is no 
 pleasure unmixed with alloy ; no general happiness unaccom- 
 panied by particular exceptions. Amongst the workmen, was 
 the father of one of the men who had disappeared in the mine. 
 His paternal feelings seemed to have endowed him with su- 
 perhuman strength. Night and day he never quitted his work 
 but for a few minutes, to return to it with redoubled ardor ; one 
 sole, absorbing thought, occupied his whole soul; the idea that 
 his son, his only son, was with those who were heard from 
 within. In vain he was solicited to retire: in vain they strove 
 to force him from labors too fatiguing for his age. " My son 
 is amongst them," said he, " I hear him ; nothing shall prevent 
 my hastening his release ;" and, from time to time, he called 
 on his son, in accents that tore the hearts of the bystanders. It 
 was from his hand that the instrument had been drawn. His 
 first question was, " my child ?" Like Apelles, let me throw a 
 veil over a father's grief. His Antoine was no more ; he had 
 been drowned. 
 
 For four days several medical men were constantly on the 
 spot, to contribute all the succors that humanity, skill, and 
 science could afford. It was they who introduced through the 
 hole, broth and soup, by means of long tin tubes, which had 
 been carefully prepared beforehand. The poor captives dis- 
 tributed it with the most scrupulous attention, first to the oldest 
 and weakest of their companions; for, notwithstanding their 
 dreadful situation, the spirit of concord and charity had never 
 ceased for a single moment, to preside amongst them. The 
 man who was appointed by the others to communicate with, and 
 answer the questions of their deliverers, displayed in all his re* 
 plies, a gayety quite in keeping with the French character. On 
 being asked what day he thought it was, and on being inform- 
 ed that it was Monday instead of Sunday, as he had suppos- 
 ed, '• Ah !" said he, " I ought to have known that ; as we yester- 
 day indulged o«rse.ves freely in drinking water." Strange 
 
490 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 that a man should have the heart to joke, who had been thus 
 " cabin' d, cribb'd, confin'd," during five days, destitute of food, 
 deprived of air, agitated by suspense, and in jeopardy of perish- 
 ing by the most horrible of all deaths ! 
 
 There still remained full sixteen feet of solid rock between 
 the two anxious parties ; but the workmen's labors were now, 
 if possible, redoubled by the certainty of complete success. At 
 intervals, light nourishment in regulated quantities, continued 
 to be passed to the miners ; this, however, they soon rejected, 
 expressing but one desire, that their friends would make haste. 
 Their strength began to fail them ; their respiration became 
 more and more difficult ; their utterance grew feebler and faint- 
 er ; and towards six o'clock in the evening, the last words that 
 could be distinguished, were — " Brothers make haste !" 
 
 The general anxiety was now wound up to the highest pitch ; 
 it was, perhaps, the most trying crisis yet experienced since the 
 commencement of these benevolent labors ; at length the mo- 
 ment of deliverance was, all at once, announced, and at ten 
 o'clock it was accomplished. One by one they appeared, like 
 spectres, gliding along the gallery which had just been com- 
 pleted ; their weak and agitated forms supported by the engi 
 neers, on whom they cast their feeble eyes, filled with astonish- 
 ment, yet beaming with gratitude. Accompanied by the doc- 
 tors, they all, with one single exception, ascended to the en- 
 trance of the mine, without aid ; such was their eagerness 
 again to inhale the pure air of liberty. From the mouth of 
 the mine to the temporary residence allotted them, the whole 
 way was illuminated. The engineers, pupils, and the work- 
 men, with the National Guard under arms, were drawn up in 
 two lines to form a passage ; and thus, in the midst of a reli- 
 gious silence, did these poor fellows traverse an attentive and 
 sympathizing crowd, who, as they passed along, inclined their 
 heads, as a sort of respect and honor to their sufferings. 
 
 Such are the affecting particulars of an event, during the 
 whole of which, every kind of business was suspended at St. 
 Etienne ; an event which exhibited the entire population of a 
 large town, forming, as it were, but one heart, entertaining but 
 one thought, imbued with one feeling, for the god-like purpose 
 of saving the lives of eight poor obscure individuals. Chris- 
 tians, men of all countries, whenever and wherever suffering 
 humanity claims your aid — Go ye and do likewise ! 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 491 
 
 NARRATIVE OF THE EXHUMATION OF THE REMAINS OF MAJOR 
 ANDRE. 
 
 [By J. Buchanan, Esq. H. M. Consul, New York.] 
 ###### ## # # 
 
 My next step was to proceed to Tappan, distant from this 
 city [New York] twenty-four miles. Thither I went, accom- 
 panied by Mr. Moore, his majesty's agent for packets. Upon 
 reaching the village, which does not contain above fifty or sixty 
 houses, the first we inquired at proved to be the very house in 
 which the major had been confined while a prisoner there, 
 kept by one Dupuy, who was also post-master ; who took us 
 to view the room which had been used as his prison. Excited 
 as we were, it would be difficult to describe our feelings on en 
 tering this little chamber; it was then used as a milk and 
 store-room ; otherwise unaltered from the period of his con- 
 finement ; about twelve feet by eight, with one window looking 
 into a garden, the view extending to the hill, and directly to 
 the spot on which he suffered, as the landlord pointed out from 
 the window, while in the room, the trees growing at the place 
 where he was buried. 
 
 Having inquired for the owner of the field, I waited on the 
 Rev. Mr. Demarat, a Baptist minister residing in Tappan, to 
 whom I explained the object of my visit, who generously ex- 
 pressed his satisfaction at the honor, "which at length," to use 
 his words, " was intended the memory of Major Andre," and 
 assured me, that every facility should be afforded by him. 
 Whereupon we all proceeded to examine the grave, attended 
 by many of the inhabitants, who by this time had become ac- 
 quainted with the cause of cur visit ; and it was truly gratify- 
 ing to us, as it was honorable to them, that all were loud in the 
 expressions of their gratification on this occasion. 
 
 We proceeded up a narrow lane, or broken road, with trees 
 at each side, which obscured the place where he suffered, until 
 we came to the opening into the field, which at once led to an 
 elevated spot on the hill. On reaching the mount, we found it 
 commanded a view of the surrounding country for miles. Gen- 
 eral Washington's head-quarters, and the house in which he 
 resided, was distant about a mile and a half or two miles, but 
 fully in view. The army lay encamped, chiefly also in view 
 of the place, and must necessarily have witnessed the catastro- 
 phe. The field, as well as I could judge, contained from eight 
 '-o ten acres, and was cultivated; but around the grave the 
 
492 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 plow had not approached nearer than three or four yards, that 
 space being covered with loose stones thrown upon and around 
 the grave, which was only indicated by two cedar trees about ten 
 feet high. A small peach tree had also been planted at the head 
 of the grave, by the kindly feeling of a lady in the neighborhood. 
 
 Doubts were expressed by many who attended, that the body 
 had been secretly carried to England, and not a few believed 
 we should not find the remains ; but their surmises were set 
 aside by the more general testimony of the community. Having 
 then found the grave, and obtained leave of the proprietor of 
 the field to remove the remains, I made arrangement? to do so 
 on the Tuesday following. Having consulted Mr. Eggleso, a 
 cabinet-maker and , upholsterer, who had formerly done the 
 work of Dublin Castle, as to the most suitable mode of re- 
 moval, in a manner becoming the illustrious Prince under 
 whose orders I was acting, he recommended a sarcophagus, 
 which I accordingly ordered to be made, and to be covered 
 with crimson velvet, &c, ; aware that thereby I was acting in 
 accordance with the intention of his Royal Highness, in honor- 
 ing the remains of a soldier who had been buried divested of 
 all honorable appendages. Thus furnished, I proceeded upon 
 the 10th of August, 1821, accompanied by Senor Houghton, 
 the Spanish consul, and attended by Mr. Eggleso, with the sar- 
 cophagus, in order to raise the body, previous to removal from 
 Tappan to his Majesty's packet. This mode of proceeding I 
 was led to adopt, as I had been informed that some person had 
 gone from New York, with the view to purchase or rent the 
 held from the worthy clergyman, under the impression I would 
 pay a large sum in order to fulfil his Royal Highness' inten- 
 tion ; but, to the honor of this worthy, yet poor pastor, he re- 
 jected their offers, and stated he would not, on any account, re- 
 cede from the promise he had made. Arriving at Tappan by 
 ten o'clock, A. M., though I was not expected until the follow- 
 ing Tuesday, as I had fixed, yet a number of persons soon as- 
 sembled, some of whom betrayed symptoms of displeasure at 
 the proceeding, arising from the observations of some of the 
 public journals, which asserted " that any honor paid Major 
 Andre's remains was casting an imputation on Genera] Wash- 
 ington, and the officers who tried him." 
 
 As these characters were of the lowest cast, and their obser- 
 vations were condemned by every respectable person in the 
 village, I yet deemed it prudent, while the worthy pastor was 
 preparing his men to open the grave, to resort to a mode ot 
 argument, the only one I had time or inclination to bestow upoB 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 493 
 
 them, in which I was sure to find the landlord a powerful aux- 
 iliary. I therefore stated to these noisy patriots, that I wished to 
 follow a custom not unfrequent in Ireland, from whence I came, 
 namely, of taking some spirits before proceeding to a grave 
 The landlord approved the Irish practice, and accordingly sup- 
 plied abundance of liquor, so that in a short time, General 
 Washington, Major Andre, and the object of my visit, were 
 forgotten by them, and I was left at perfect liberty, with the 
 respectable inhabitants of the place, to proceed to the exhuma- 
 tion, leaving the landlord to supply the guests, a duty which he 
 faithfully performed, to my entire satisfaction. 
 
 At twelve o'clock, quite an unexpected crowd assembled at 
 ine grave, — as our proceeding up the hill was seen by the in- 
 nabitants all around. The day was unusually fine ; a number 
 of ladies, and many aged matrons who witnessed his fall, — 
 who had seen his person, — who had mingled tears with his 
 sufferings, — attended, and were loud in their praises of the 
 Prince, for thus at length honoring one who still lived in their 
 recollection with unsubdued sympathy. The laborers pro- 
 ceeded with diligence, yet caution. Surmises about the body 
 having been removed were revived, and it would be difficult to 
 imagine any event which could convey a degree of more intense 
 excitement. 
 
 As soon as the stones were cleared away, and the grave was 
 found, not a tongue moved amongst the multitude, — breath- 
 less anxiety was depicted in every countenance. When, at 
 length, one of the men cried out he had touched the coffin, so 
 great was the enthusiasm at this moment, that I found it neces- 
 sary to call in the aid of several of the ladies to form an en- 
 larged circle, so that all could see the operation; which being 
 effected, the men proceeded with the greatest caution, and the 
 clay was removed with the hands, as we soon discovered the 
 lid of the cofnn was broken in the center. With great care the 
 broken lid was removed, and there to our view lay the bones 
 of the brave Andre, in perfect order. I, among others, for the 
 first time discovered that he had been a small man ; this obser- 
 vation I made from the skeleton, which was confirmed by some 
 then present. The roots of the small peach tree had completely 
 surrounded the skull like a net. After allowing all the people 
 to pass round in regular order, and view the remains as they 
 lay, which very many did with unfeigned tears and lamenta- 
 tion, the bones were carefully removed, and placed in the sar- 
 cophagus, (the circle having been again formed ;) after which 
 I descended into the coffin, which was not more than three fee/ 
 
 42 
 
494 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 below the surface, and with my own hands raked the^ dust 
 together, to ascertain whether he had been buried in his regi- 
 mentals or not, as it was rumored among the assemblage that 
 he was stripped ; for, if buried in his regimentals, I expected 
 to find the buttons of his clothes, which wouM have disproved 
 ihe rumor;* but I did not find a single button, nor any article 
 save a string of leather that had tied his hair, in perfect pre- 
 servation, coiled and tied as it had been on his hair at the time. 
 This string I forwarded to his sister in England. I examined 
 the dust of the coffin so minutely (as the quantity would not fill 
 a quart) that no mistake could have arisen in the examination. 
 Let no unworthy motive be attributed to me for recording this 
 fact ; I state it as one which I was anxious to ascertain for the 
 reason given. Having placed the remains in the sarcophagus, 
 it was borne amidst the silent and unbought regret of the nu- 
 merous assemblage, and deposited in the worthy pastor's house, 
 with the intention of removing it to his Majesty's packet on the 
 Tuesday following. 
 
 I should be ungrateful did I omit doing justice to the feelings 
 of an aged widow, who kept the turnpike-gate on the way to 
 New York, who, upon hearing the object of my visit, declared 
 she felt so much gratified that the remains were to be removed 
 from the field where they had so long lain neglected, that all 
 the carriages should pass free of toll on the occasion. Whether 
 she had this power I know not, but it marks strongly the sen- 
 timents of the American people at large, as to a transaction 
 which a great part of the British public have forgotten, at least 
 those in the humbler walks of life, as this gate-keeper was. 
 
 On returning to New York, on the evening of the 10th, a 
 citizen of the first respectability called on me and stated, that 
 as political favor was to be obtained by manifesting hatred to 
 every English measure, he had learned that some hot spirits 
 had agreed that they would mark every citizen who should at- 
 tend, and that they were determined to meet the procession on 
 the way, and throw the sarcophagus into the Hudson. Let not 
 the people of the United States be charged with participating 
 in feelings that could suggest such an outrage. There was 
 nothing in it hostile to the remains of Major Andre ; it was 
 to forward political views, just as abuse was poured out upon 
 the present and late President of the United States previous to 
 
 ♦ Ithas since been ascertained, from an American officer present at the 
 burial, that the regimentals of Major Andre were given to his servants, after 
 his execution. This statement has satisfied Mr. Buchanan, and will account 
 for the absence of any vestiges in his tomb.— L. H. Y. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 495 
 
 the late election ; yet it is difficult to explain to those not long 
 acquainted with the United States, the motives which governed 
 the actions of a democracy, and I am supported in the opinion 
 by men whose judgment I deem sound, that solely from such 
 views did some of the papers in this city and Philadelphia 
 differ from those journals that applauded the removal, as party 
 feeling in political matters generally runs so high, that the 
 favor of one party is sure to subject its object to the opposi- 
 tion of the other. I am thus particular, lest the threatened 
 opposition should be regarded as a mark of the character of 
 the country ; and I hope I may be pardoned, while on the sub- 
 ject, in saying, that the manifestation of hatred to England is no 
 longer a proof of patriotism, as formerly. 
 
 The information, however, led me to act so as to avoid any 
 kind of proceeding likely to produce excitement ; although all 
 that was purposed was to have the attendance of Major M'Neil, 
 Captain Philips of the British army, Captains Ricketts and 
 Laurence of the British navy, the Austrian, Prussian, Russian, 
 and Spanish consuls, as I had declined the offered attendance 
 of a number of the most respectable citizens, (as soon as I 
 found the papers alluded to animadverted in the spirit I have 
 mentioned.) Determined to act promptly, without informing 
 my family, or any others, of my intention, I called on the com- 
 mander of his majesty's packet, and we proceeded to Tappan 
 on the evening of Saturday the 11th, taking a gig, in which 
 we rode, and directed a carriage to follow to a place about six- 
 teen miles distant, and there wait for me, without intimating to 
 the party furnishing the gig or carriage my destination. I de- 
 layed my departure to get as night fell, Avithin about four miles 
 of the village, where we stopped at a tavern to feed the horse 
 and refresh ourselves, having come twenty-four miles. While 
 tea was getting ready, a number of the country people came to 
 the tavern, (the usage of the country on a Saturday evening,) 
 among whom it so happened, were some who had witnessed 
 the exhumation the day before ; and inasmuch as no stranger 
 can travel without being questioned, through a quarter where 
 strangers are rarely seen, I took every precaution to avoid com- 
 ing in contact with the persons at the tavern. However, one 
 man came forward, and, without any prefatory observation, by 
 way of introduction, asked me, was I not the British consul, 
 as he thought he had seen me the day before at Tappan. I 
 had no way of retreat ; so I told him I was often taken for the 
 consul, and that at times it was very inconvenient to have so 
 close a resemblance to that ^erson. He then began to inform 
 
496 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 £ 
 
 me of the exhumation of Major Andre, the magnificence oi 
 the sarcophagus, and that the whole country would be there on 
 Tuesday to join the procession. I need not say that 1 got away 
 from this kind and inquisitive person as quickly as possible, as 
 others were approaching, who, had they been at Tappan the 
 day before, I know not how [ should have got clear of these 
 men, more than the lamented Andre did from those men who 
 met him when he was taken. It was my intention to have 
 stopped at this tavern till twelve o'clock ; but I had to decamp, 
 for the reason mentioned. My companion remained concealed 
 in a small back-room, where we got tea ; for his appearance 
 would have called forth an examination all my ingenuity couIg 
 not have delivered us from ; an ordeal not to be understood by 
 travelers on great leading roads in Europe. Unfortunately for 
 our object, it was moonlight ; and for the first time in my life 
 did I find moonlight unpleasant. I wished for a cloud — for total 
 darkness. But no ; it was a clear moonlight night ; so light 
 that only those who have witnessed the clear sky of the United 
 States, in latitude 40°, can have any idea of its brightness. But 
 my anxiety for concealment rendered the light intolerable, aa 
 so many people were stirring, or, as it is termed in that Dutch 
 quarter, " frolicing," on a Saturday night. Moving slowly, 
 we entered the village at half-past eleven o'clock ; and passing" 
 through, I left the gig with my friend under a tree, which ob 
 scured them, while I proceeded forward to reconnoiter the wor- 
 thy pastor's house. To my great annoyance, I heard several 
 voices from a piazza in front of his house, where a number o 
 persons were sitting enjoying the mild moonlight night. I re- 
 mained under a tree a full hour, wnthin hearing of their conver- 
 sation, fearing to go forward, lest some of the inhabitants of 
 the village formed part of the group, as I dreaded discovery 
 as I had learned from my inquisitor at the tavern that great 
 preparation was making to entertain the numbers w 7 ho would 
 attend the removal on Tuesday, by the several tavern-keepers 
 in Tappan. I also feared to come in contact w r ith the patriots 
 whom, with the aid of the tavern-keeper, I had silenced the 
 day before ; I could not expect the same co-operation to leave 
 me at liberty to pursue my object ; so I determined to leave 
 nothing to chance, as my friend and I were alone, unaided and 
 unarmed. One o'clock having struck, and the voices having 
 diminished, I ventured forward ; not without apprehension also 
 of a watch-dog, unprovided as I was, and found the good old 
 minister still outside the house, with some of his relations, who 
 had come to spend a day with him, and see the sarcophagus. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 497 
 
 I took him aside, before he recognized me, and stated to him 
 the cause of my sudden visit; but he derided my fear; for that 
 such was the feeling of the country and his friends, that he 
 would guarantee all would go off well ; and that it would 
 greatly disappoint numbers who were to come to his house next 
 day to see the " rare spectacle of so grand an article as tile sar- 
 cophagus." In fact I found the old gentleman was not to be 
 moved from his purpose. I therefore went in with him, and 
 found his wife a subject more likely to be moved by fear; and 
 I accordingly roused her apprehension so effectually, that she 
 joinedme in persuading her husband to acquiesce in my purpose, 
 which he did reluctantly, as he felt for the honor of the com« 
 munity, and in the simplicity of his heart, did. not believe there 
 were such miscreants in the world. All this time my compan- 
 ion remained under the tree, his mind filled with the midnight 
 meeting, of the events which led him and myself to our enter- 
 prise ; from whence I called him into the house. Having the 
 key of the sarcophagus, I had to open it, so that the relatives 
 who had come might see it ; and finding that I had paid above 
 one hundred guineas for it, they were astonished at the muni- 
 ficent disposition of his Royal Highness. Having requested 
 the old lady to inclose it in a quilt, we got it placed on the gig ; 
 and having taken some refreshment, of which we stood much 
 in need, we departed, and returned to the place where I had 
 ordered the carriage to come, into which we got, and proceed- 
 ed on to New York, where we arrived about five o'clock on 
 the morning of Sunday. Having arranged to have a boat in 
 waiting from his majesty's packet, with feelings that never shall 
 be effaced from my memory, I placed the remains under the 
 British flag. 
 
 As soon as the removal of the sarcophagus to the packet 
 was known in this city, it was not only honorable to the feel- 
 ings of the citizens, but cheering to my mind, depressed as it 
 had been, to find the sentiments which prevailed. Ladies sent 
 me flowers ; others, various emblamatic devices, garlands, &c, 
 to decorate the remains of the " lamented and beloved An^re." 
 A beautiful and ornamented myrtle among those sent, I for- 
 warded with the sarcophagus, to Halifax, where Lieut. General 
 Sir James Kempt, governor of Nova Scotia, caused every pro- 
 per mark of respect to be paid to the remains. From thence 
 they reached London, and were deposited near the monument 
 which had been erected to his memory in the Abbey, and a 
 marble slp.b placed at the foot of the monument, on which is 
 
 42* 
 
498 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 set forth their removal by the order of his Royal Highness th# 
 Duke of York. 
 
 Having represented to his Royal Highness the generou3 
 conduct of the Reverend Mr. Demarat, I recommended that 
 his Royal Highness should convey to him a snuff-box, made 
 out of one of the trees which grew at the grave, which I sent 
 home. But my suggestion was far outdone by the princely 
 munificence of his Royal Highness, who ordered a box to be 
 made out of the tree, and lined with gold, with an inscription, 
 " From his Royal Highness the Duke of York, to the Rev. 
 Mr. Demarat." Whilst speaking of this act of liberality, I was 
 unexpectedly honored with a silver inkstand, with the follow- 
 ing inscription : — " The surviving sisters of Major Andre to 
 James Buchanan, Esq., his Majesty's Consul, New York." 
 They also sent a silver cup, with a suitable inscription, to Mr. 
 Demarat. I need not add, that I cherish this inkstand, (which 
 I am now using,) and shall bequeath it to my children as a 
 memorial which I prize with no ordinary feeling. 
 
 I omitted to mention, that I had the peach tree which had 
 been planted on the grave, (the roots of which had surrounded 
 the skull, as set forth,) taken up with great care, with as much 
 of the clay as it was possible to preserve around the roots, and 
 brought it to my garden in New York, where my daughters 
 attended it with almost pious solicitude, shading it during the 
 heat of the day, watering it in the cool of the evening, in the 
 hope of preserving it to send to England. Had it reached his 
 sisters, they would no doubt have regarded it as another Miner- 
 va; for, though it did not spring out of, yet it was nourished 
 by, their beloved brother's head. 
 
 I have only to add, that, through the kind interference of my 
 brother consul at Philadelphia, I obtained Major Andre's watch, 
 which he had to part with when a prisoner, during the early 
 part of the war. This watch I sent to England lately ; so that 
 I believe every vestige connected with the subject of this nar- 
 rative has been sent to the land of his birth, in the service of 
 which his life was sacrificed. J. Buchanan. 
 
 REVOLUTION IN PARIS IN 1830. 
 
 The immediate cause of the revolution in Paris, in 3niy 
 1830, was the attempt of the ministers of Charles X. to enforce 
 a number of ordinances, signed by the king, in violation of fh* 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 499 
 
 charter confirmed by Louis XVIII., at his second restoration, 
 after the downfall of Napoleon, in 1814. The most odious of 
 these ordinances, was the suspension of the liberty of the press, 
 so that no periodical or writing could be published, without 
 being inspected and authorized by the government. Of the 
 other two ordinances, one illegally dissolved the chamber of 
 Deputies, the other prescribed the law of elections. 
 
 July 26. The greatest calm prevailed throughout Paris, 
 when the fatal Moniteur appeared. The infamous attempt 
 which it revealed was so unexpected, that its first influence was 
 almost stunning. The fatal news was soon spread ; the cafes 
 and the reading-rooms were thronged; and with bitter smiles 
 the ordinances were listened to — on every face indignation and 
 scorn were expressed. The news was not, however, at once gen- 
 erally known. The people who do not read the Moniteur, had 
 at first only a confused idea of it. It was in the offices of the 
 public papers, that the event produced the greatest effect. Sev- 
 eral journals prepared for a generous resistance ; while some 
 were abandoned by their trembling editors ; in vain an opinion 
 was obtained from M. de Belleyme, feeble, though positive ; the 
 greater part of the public papers found it actually impossible 
 to appear ; and they immediately issued the following protest. 
 
 Protestation of the Journals. — " It has been repeatedly an- 
 nounced within six months, that the law would be violated ; that 
 a coup aVetat would be executed. The good sense of the pub- 
 lic refused to believe it. Ministers repulsed the supposition as 
 a calumny. Notwithstanding, the Moniteur at last published 
 these memorable ordinances, which are the most daring viola- 
 tion of laws. The legal government is then interrupted ; that 
 of force commences. 
 
 " In the situation in which we are placed, obedience ceases 
 to be a duty. The citizens who are first called upon to obey, 
 are the editors of journals ; they have to give the first examplo 
 of resistance to an authority which has divested itself of its 
 legal character. 
 
 " Those matters to which the ordinances published this morn- 
 ing, refer, are of a nature which, according to the charter, it is 
 not in the power of royal authority to pronounce upon. The 
 charter (article 8) says, that the French, with regard to the press, 
 are to conform to the laws ; it does not. say they are to conform 
 to ordinances. The charter (article 35) says that the organi- 
 zation of the electoral colleges is to be regulated by laws; it 
 loes not say, it is to be regulated by ordinances. 
 
 " The crown has, until this period, acknowledged these arti 
 35 
 
500 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 cles ; it has not thought of arming itself against them, neither 
 with pretended constituent power, nor with a power attributed 
 falsely to article 14. 
 
 " In fact, every time that circumstances of a serious nature 
 appeared to the crown, as demanding a modification, either in 
 the administration of the press, or in the electoral administra- 
 tion, it has had recourse to the two chambers. When it was 
 necessary to modify the charter in order to establish septennial 
 elections, and the total renewal of deputies, it had recourse not 
 to itself, as author of the charter, but to the chambers. 
 
 " Royal authority then has acknowledged, has practiced it- 
 self, these articles, 8 and 35, and has not, with regard to them, 
 arrogated a constituent authority, nor a dictatorial authority, 
 neither of which exists. 
 
 " The tribunals, which have a right to interpret, have solemn- 
 ly acknowledged these same principles. The royal court of 
 Paris, and several others, have condemned the publishers of 
 the associations of Britanny, as guilty of an outrage against 
 government. It considered the supposition, that government 
 could employ the authority of ordinances, where the authority 
 of law is only admissible, an outrage. The grounds on which 
 they rest are such that it is sufficient to mention them. 
 
 " Thus the formal text of the charter — the practice thus far 
 followed by the crown — the decisions of the tribunals — estab- 
 lish, that in respect to the press and the electoral organization, 
 the laws, that is, the king and the chambers, can alone decide. 
 
 11 Legality has now therefore been violated by the govern- 
 ment. We attempt to publish our papers without requiring 
 the authorization imposed on us. We shall endeavor that, to- 
 day at least, all France shall receive our papers. 
 
 " This is what our duty as citizens demands of us, and we 
 shall perform it. If is not for us to point out the duties which 
 the chamber, illegally dissolved, has to fulfil. But we may 
 supplicate it, in the name of France, to rest upon its evident 
 right, and to resist as much as in its power, the violation of the 
 laws. This right is as clear as that upon which we stand. The 
 charter says, (article 59) that the king can dissolve a chamber 
 of deputies ; but to do this it is necessary that it should be as- 
 sembled, and constituted as a chamber ; that in fact it should 
 have supported a system requiring its dissolution. But before 
 the meeting and constitution of the chamber, the elections were 
 all that had been accomplished. It is nowhere said in the char- 
 ter that the king may annul the elections. The dissolution i&, 
 therefore, illegal, since it is not warranted by the c harter. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 501 
 
 ■ The deputies elected and convoked for the 3d of August, 
 are well and duly elected and convoked. Their duty is the 
 same to day that it was yesterday. That duty France beseeches 
 them not to forget. All they are able to do to maintain this 
 right, they ought to do. 
 
 " Government has lost to-day, its character of legality which 
 commands obedience. We resist it as far as it concerns us ; it 
 is for France to judge how far her own resistance shall extend." 
 [Signed by the conductors and editors of the journals ac- 
 tually present at Paris.] 
 
 Meanwhile, the exchange was alarmed, and the bankers sus- 
 pended their discounts. The public funds fell more than four 
 francs, and many merchants declared that they must stop pay- 
 ment. One of the greatest manufacturers in France dismissed 
 his workmen, with a payment in advance, as a remuneration for 
 losses they were to suffer by being deprived of their means of live- 
 lihood without any previous notice. Several of the printers shut 
 up their offices ; one of them, whose name is famous, said to his 
 workmen, "my friends, the press is abolished to-day. I cannot 
 give you work any longer; go ask it from your good king." 
 
 In this agitation, which was constantly increasing, citizens 
 began to form groups in the Palais Royal. But, without arms 
 as yet, they were only collected together by curiosity or anx- 
 iety, to question each other and consult together. In the mean 
 time, the gendarmerie prepared to disperse them. They were 
 cowardly enough to charge unarmed citizens ; columns of the 
 royal guard entered the garden, and drove out those who were 
 promenading in it, and shut the gates. The outraged multitude 
 proceeded to the Boulevard des Capoucins, crying " Down with 
 Polignac." Windows were broken — stones were thrown at the 
 royal guard, who had again charged the people. About twen- 
 ty young men waited before the mansion of M. Casimir Perier, 
 for the decision of a number of deputies assembled in order ta 
 consult on the public dangers, and to draw up a protest; they 
 were attacked and sabered without mercy. From some points 
 the fire of musketry had been heard, and some citizens had 
 been wounded mortally. 
 
 July 27. A hand-bill was distributed in all quarters of Paris, 
 signed Mangin, prohibiting all public establishments from re- 
 ceiving and exposing 1 to use the Journals which had appeared 
 without previous authority This arbitrary measure informed 
 the people of the suburbs of events which as yet they knew 
 Uttle of. Some extracts from the Moniteur of the preceding 
 
502 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 evening, gave them additional and complete information : and 
 consequently indignation was marked on all faces. 
 
 The sight of a great display of armed forces, augmented the 
 indignation still more. At eleven o'clock, officers of the police, 
 accompanied by armed forces, barred some streets, and* broke 
 into the offices of those Journals which had dared to appear , 
 the Temps, National Globe, Journal du Commerce, Figaro. 
 The proprietors of each of these Journals manifested the most 
 lively resistance to the armed force, prohibiting in the name 
 of the law their proceedings. Some locksmiths, sent to force 
 the doors of the printing offices, refused to do their work. The 
 police officers hesitated for fear of rendering themselves guilty 
 of house-breaking. And they did not accomplish any thing 
 until Mangin sent the man whose duty it w r as to rivet upon 
 convicts their fetters. Meanwhile groups had assembled in 
 much greater numbers than the evening before ; the vicinity 
 of the Palais Royal, the streets Saint Honore, Richelieu, De 
 Valois, Fromenlau, Saint Thomas, du Louvre, and de Char- 
 tres, were full. The greater number were still without arms ; 
 they were merely spectators brought together by the events of 
 the preceding evening, with whom some persons of the fau- 
 bourgs, armed with sticks and stones, united. The gendarme* 
 rie on foot and on horse began to charge indiscriminately on 
 all before them ; but resistance was offered, and the groups in- 
 stead of dispersing, increased every moment; the street St. 
 Honore was soon filled with them in its whole length ; the 
 people armed themselves ; repeated discharges of musketry 
 were heard ; but those against whom they were directed rallied 
 intrepidly under the fire of the enemy. 
 
 Other groups proceeded towards the Hotel of foreign affairs, 
 and to the road by which the minister Polignac must return 
 from St. Cloud ; several coaches were stopped, but Polignac 
 had slipped into his hotel without being perceived. He order- 
 ed artillery to be mounted in it, as in a fortress. It is said that 
 the moment when the most active fire was directed by his order 
 against Paris, this infamous minister was quietly dining with 
 his colleagues, under the protection cf his cannon, and thus 
 insulting the victims whom he sacrificed. 
 
 In the evening of the 27th, that admirable system of defense 
 was began, which the people of Paris opposed to the troops, 
 who fired upon them with so much cruelty. As time had been 
 wanting to agree on any plan, the citizens assembled without 
 concert, on all points *where it w r as necessary to defend. Their 
 first care was to break the lamps in the Rue St. Honore and 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 503 
 
 La Morula e, in the square of the Parvis Notre Dame, in the 
 'Change, and in the Archiepiscopal Palace; at the same time, 
 citizens proceeded in small bands to the armorers, who opened 
 their workshops without resistance, exciting them to fight and 
 even furnishing them paper for cartridges. 
 
 Enormous beams were thrown across the kennels to arrest 
 the course of the cavalry. In all these preparations surprising 
 order and calmness were observable. It was also observed 
 that a feeling of danger, rather than passion, directed all citi- 
 zens. The night was passed in these preparations ; some par- 
 tial combats took place ; but decisive operations were put ofT till 
 the next day. 
 
 July 28. Early in the morning, the whole population of Paris 
 was in motion ; detachments of the faubourgs St. Antoine and 
 St. Marceau, had put themselves in march. Armed citizens 
 occupied the Hotel de Ville ; others had taken possession of 
 the passages of Notre Dame, planted the tri-colored flag, and 
 sounded the tocsin. All were prepared to fight ; all the powder 
 and lead which they had been able to find in the shops had 
 been taken. A number of the ancient National Guards, with- 
 out uniform, had joined the armed citizens. The Ecole Poly 
 technique had solicited, and rather taken than obtained permis 
 sion, to leave the school and fight ; the students of law and 
 medicine imitated this example ; in fact, Paris offered the sight 
 of a camp ; all shops were closed, and royal guards, lancers, 
 Swiss, and regiments of the line were drawn up on all sides. 
 These different corps, it is true, were not equally disposed to 
 turn their arms against their fellow-citizens. Though they had 
 received twenty-five francs each, the royal guards felt repug- 
 nant at the service which was expected from them. The line 
 positively refused to fire. The officers assembled in the Cafe 
 Turc, and resolved upon a declaration to their commander, ex- 
 pressing their intention to confine themselves to the mainten- 
 ance of order, without firing upon the people ; but the gendar- 
 merie, and particularly the Swiss, showed the most frightful 
 fury. 
 
 Whilst every one thus prepared for battle, all the signs of 
 royal authority were pulled down and destroyed, as if by en- 
 chantment. The citizens would no longer endure these images 
 of a king, the assassin of his people. Here they were fasten- 
 ed to, or rather hung, on the lanterns; there they were collect- 
 ed in a heap and burnt. And yet, all these acts of popular jus- 
 tice were committed without disorder, without violence, or any 
 other cry than that of Vive la Charte ! 
 
504 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 In the mean time a regular fight began at once in all quai 
 ters of Paris. The chief point of attack and defense was the 
 Hotel de Ville, or City Hall, situated at a short distance from 
 the north bank of the river. In front of the Hall is a square 
 called the Place de Greve, where once stood the Guillotine, on 
 which thousands of innocent victims were sacrificed, to gratify 
 the malice of such men as Danton, Marat and Robespierre. 
 The central position of this Hall made it the scene of many 
 bloody engagements. Every effort was employed by both par- 
 ties for securing its permanent possession. About one o'clock 
 in the afternoon, a party of the Royal Guards and of Swiss, to 
 the number of nearly eight hundred men, defiling by the wharf 
 on the bank of the river, appeared on the open space in front 
 of the Hall. A brisk fire immediately commenced ; but the 
 National Guards, not being equal in numbers, were soon com- 
 pelled to make a retreat. The Royal Guards had scarcely 
 taken possession of the Hall, before they were assailed on all 
 sides, with a shower of bullets from the windows of the houses 
 in the vicinity. They, however, made a strenuous resistance, 
 and killed a greater number of their assailants, than they lost 
 of their own body. But still they were dislodged, and forced 
 to retreat along the wharf, until they were joined by fresh 
 troops. With this reinforcement, consisting of one hundred 
 cuirassiers and forty-eight artillery-men, with four pieces of can- 
 non, they again advanced towards the Hall, and commenced a 
 murderous fire, which was answered by the citizens. The ar- 
 tillery defiling from the wharf, and charged with canister shot, 
 swept the whole length of the square, in the most terrific man- 
 ner. The immense space was immediately covered with dead 
 bodies. They succeeded in driving the citizens into the ad- 
 joining streets, and once more entered into possession of the 
 Hall. But they were soon again attacked with a perseverance 
 and courage truly sublime and almost irresistible. Their ar- 
 tillery ranged before the prefecture of the Seine and the Hall, 
 threatened death to thousands, but the citizens remained immo- 
 vable in their position. There was a spirit of determination 
 among them, which drove all thoughts of danger from their 
 bosoms. 
 
 It is impossible to describe the effect which every explosion 
 produced on the inhabitants of the neighborhood. The tocsin 
 sounded without cessation at Notre Dame. From time to time 
 the wounded were carried to the Hotel Dieu, and corpses to 
 the Morgue. This was done in the most affecting manner. 
 The respect and the tears of the citizens present, followed these 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 505 
 
 unfortunate victims of their heroism ; not one corpse was in- 
 sulted, whether that of a French soldier, or of a Swiss ; it was 
 a brother, it was a man. Whilst the battle went on, a great 
 number of the National Guards having retaken their uniform, 
 formed themselves in platoons, and, provided with cartridges, 
 taken in a public depot, proceeded towards the Pont Neuf and 
 the institute. There a murderous conflict had begun. Troops 
 posted in houses of the Q.uai des Orferres, the prefecture of the 
 police round the statue of Henry IV. in the Louvre, and in 
 the gallery of the Museum, kept up a considerable fire. The 
 Pont des Arts was also the theater of an obstinate conflict. 
 From time to time, the wounded were sent in carts to the hos- 
 pitals. A single corporal accompanied these mournful con- 
 voys, which the silent populace protected on their route. 
 
 In the vicinity of the Palais Royal, on the Boulevards, and 
 on the public places, the struggle was continued with various 
 success. Thus whilst the people were victorious on a great 
 many points, the success seemed uncertain in the environs of 
 the Louvre, in the street du Cog, and on the Carousel. The 
 same was not the case in the street St. Antoine. There a pop- 
 ulation, full of ardor, determined to conquer or perish, had 
 posted themselves in the houses, on the roofs, and fired continu- 
 ally on the troops which passed through the streets. The roofs 
 were broken up and a shower of tiles poured upon the heads 
 of the assailants. On the Boulevard St. Martin, the same ar- 
 dor, the same devotedness characterized the citizens ; they car- 
 ried the pavements on the triumphal arch of the gate St. Mar- 
 tin, and threw them upon the soldiers, who in vain struggled 
 to make themselves masters of this point of attack. The peo- 
 ple at the same moment attacked vigorously the barracks of 
 the gendarmerie, in the street of faubourg St. Martin. 
 
 At first repulsed, they finished by making themselves mas- 
 ters of this barrack ; every thing found there was thrown into 
 the street. There (as every where else) was no pillaging, and 
 this was so scrupulously observed, that even silver plate and 
 money was thrown into the fire. 
 
 It was towards the evening of Wednesday that the heat of 
 the conflict began to relax, and the people began to construct 
 barricades on all points ; till then they had confined themselves 
 to putting beams, wagons, and all the carriages which had been 
 met w r ith, across the streets ; but now they tore up the pave- 
 ments at the entrance of every street, and the stones were col- 
 lected in barrels ; these defenses were fortified by overturned 
 coaches, fiacres, omnibuses and stage-coaches; the trees of the 
 
 43 
 
506 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 Boulevards were cut down and thrown across the roads. Id 
 one moment Paris was put in a formidable state of defense. 
 
 The firing at the Hotel de Ville ceased towards ten o'clock 
 in the evening, and the troops, convinced of the impossibility 
 of maintaining themselves any longer in the populous quarters, 
 took advantage of the night to retreat towards the quarter of 
 the Thuilleries. They echelonned along the Champs Elysee? 
 on the place Louis XV., on the quais, and on the other side of 
 the Chateau ; but the greater part of them, from discourage- 
 ment, or rather from a sentiment of horror at the infamous 
 work to which they had been condemned, were disposed to 
 surrender or to retreat. The royal guards posted or rather 
 lying on the place Louis XV., were seen sighing at their hor- 
 rioie situation ; tears flowed from the eyes of many of these 
 soldiers. " Let us perish," said they, " our duty is to die on 
 our posts ; but we will not any longer do the execrable work 
 to which we have been condemned for two days." Several 
 officers of the guard sent in their resignation to the command- 
 er, and manifested a generous repentance. The troops of the 
 tine, who were seen wavering in the morning, made their sub- 
 mission almost entirely ; several regiments fell in with the citi- 
 zens and were received with a cry of Vive la ligna. Paris, 
 on the evening of the 28th, totally deprived of lanterns, brist- 
 ling with barricades, offered the most melancholy .aspect. 
 
 The whole population was roused. The small number of 
 royal officers who had had the courage to remain at their posts 
 disappeared ; some Went to St. Cloud : the greater part conceal- 
 ed themselves. Man gin fled in haste, from the prefecture of 
 the police; and the city was left without any kind of authority. 
 It was then that some good citizens assembled to deliberate on 
 the present circumstances, and occupied themselves with es- 
 tablishing some order in the midst of the extraordinary state 
 of things. The project was formed for establishing provision- 
 ary municipalities, to unite as many as possible of the National 
 Guards, in order to protect public and private property. The 
 night passed in these occupations. 
 
 July 29. At break of day, the whole population was in arms, 
 provided with ammunition and decided to pursue their work. 
 Some servants of Charles X. had proceeded to St. Cloud; and 
 had conjured Polignac to give in his resignation, and the king 
 tc revoke the fata ordinances. The minister persisted in his 
 barbarous resolution to stake the crown of his master in a civil 
 war. He refused to listen to any proposition whatever. There- 
 fore the fight was continued. 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 507 
 
 During the two preceding days, the people were seen fight- 
 ing without a chief, consequently without direction ; and yet 
 in admirable order. But on the morning of the 29th, some 
 good citizens felt the necessity of giving them some experi- 
 enced chiefs. The leading editor of the Constitutionel, M. Eva- 
 riste Dumoulin, went to the brave General Dubourg and re- 
 presented to him the necessity of putting himself at the head 
 of the people. Though maimed in his former campaigns, 
 General Dubourg accepted. He issued a proclamation, and 
 putting himself at the head of numerous columns, possessed 
 himself of the Exchange. A General, still more illustrious, 
 resolves to second the efforts of the nation, viz. General Gerard, 
 who takes the command of numerous detachments, and pro- 
 ceeded towards the Louvre and the Thuilleries. 
 
 The General-in-chief, Marmont, had posted the Swiss in the 
 higher stories of these two buildings; and from here, these 
 foreign troops, who coldly looked upon French blood, retrench- 
 ed behind the embrasures of the windows, cruelly fired upon 
 the people. From five to six thousand people proceeded to- 
 wards the Louvre, at a signal given to them by the tocsin. Two 
 regiments of the Royal Guard were posted in the yards and 
 the Garden de 1' Infant; they fired upon the first assailants, but 
 these only fell to be immediately replaced by their brethren. 
 They advanced at full charge towards the gaces of the Louvre ; 
 which were broken in spite of the violent fire, and the crowd 
 spreading itself in the inner yard, rushed in to the stair-cases 
 and forced the Swiss, (who continued to fire with incredible 
 fury,) to surrender at discretion. In a moment, the tri-colored 
 flag appeared upon this building, of which the citizens had 
 possessed themselves. 
 
 During this time, all the other quarters of Paris were in pos- 
 session of the citizens. The National Guard occupied the 
 Hotel de Ville; an armed mass possessed themselves of the 
 Archiepiscopal mansion, and penetrated into the apartments. 
 They expected to find here only the badges of a religion which 
 abhors blood ; how great was their indignation when they 
 found poniards and a barrel of powder! At this sight, they 
 seized upon the furniture, broke it, and threw every thing out 
 of the windows into the river, where were seen furniture, books, 
 and ornaments, floating pele mele. All precious vases were 
 carried to the Hotel de Ville; and beds, linen, every thing 
 which could be of use for the wounded, to the Hotel Dieu. 
 Armed masses proceeded also to the convent of the old priests. 
 in the street d'Enfer ; they had fled. There the scenes at the 
 
508 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 archbishop's mansion were repeated. The precious effects 
 were put under the care of the Mayor de Montraige. Since the 
 conquest of the Louvre and the adjacent places, the royal 
 army, driven beyond the Thuilleries, only possessed this single 
 point of defense. The ministers consulted here with the Duke 
 of Ragusa. A deputation from the people assembled at M. La 
 fitte's and desirous to arrest the effusion of blood, proceedec 
 through the fire of the battle, to the Commandant of Paris. M 
 Lafitte represented strongly to Ragusa the deplorable state of 
 the capital, and declared him personally responsible in the 
 name of the deputies of France, for the fatal consequences of 
 so sad an event. 
 
 Ragusa answered, " Military honor is obedience." 
 
 " And civil honor," answered M. Lafitte, " is not to destroy 
 citizens." 
 
 Ragusa replied, "But, gentlemen, what are the conditions 
 you propose?" 
 
 " We think we can promise," replied the deputies, " that 
 every thing would be restored on the following conditions, viz. 
 the revocation of the ordinances of the 26th of July, the dis- 
 mission of the ministers, and the convocation of the chambers 
 on the 3d of August." 
 
 "As a citizen," answered Ragusa, "I cannot disapprove; I 
 even partake in your opinions; but as a soldier, I have oiders 
 and must execute them. However, if you, gentlemen wish to 
 confer with M. de Polignac, he is here. I will ask him whe- 
 ther he will receive you." 
 
 Ragusa left the room, and re-entered a moment afterwards, 
 with his countenance much changed ; he stated that Polignac 
 declared that the proposed conditions, rendered every conference 
 useless. 
 
 " We have, then, civil war," said M. Lafitte. Ragusa was 
 silent, and the deputies retired. 
 
 Thus it became necessary to resolve upon an attack of the 
 Thuilleries. Numerous columns proceeded thither, having at 
 their head General Gerard. In an instant, the Port Royal 
 was occupied by them. Ragusa prepared to evacuate the pal- 
 ace, when suddenly, horse-guards and Swiss, disguised as citi- 
 zens, armed with pistols and poniards, fell upon the citizens 
 from behind. The carnage became horrible. At last the as- 
 sassins were slain. After several charges, the palace was car- 
 ried. The people entered by the Pavilion de Flore Indigna- 
 tion at a recent event caused this point of attack to be chosen : 
 it was from here that, at seven o'clock, the Swiss had firee 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 509 
 
 upon a number of women, whom curiosity had led to the Pont 
 Royal. The Pavilion de Flore, adjoining the apartments 01 
 the Duchess of Angouleme, was taken, and the people having 
 found there thousands of proclamations addressed to the sol- 
 diers, to excite them against the citizens, their fury was excited 
 to the highest degree; the furniturt was thrown out of the win- 
 dows; but as in the other palaces, the money and precious ef- 
 fects were remitted to the Hotel de Ville. 
 
 This last exploit opened the eyes of the Duke of Ragusa ; 
 he gave notice that he was ready to yield. Part of his troops 
 surrendered, and mingled with the people ; the rest were led 
 to the heights of St. Cloud, and began to defile, protected by a 
 last discharge of the artillery. The tri-colored flag waved on 
 all the public buildings of Paris. 
 
 Thus terminated this war of three days, waged by a nation 
 indignant against the satellites of an infatuated despot ; these 
 three days, in which the population of Paris manifested an ad- 
 mirable courage, and wisdom outshining the finest epochs of 
 the French Revolution. Hardly any disorders, inseparable 
 from so great a combat, were committed — no attempt was made 
 to touch private property. Municipal committees, created al- 
 most spontaneously in almost all the mairies, organized the Na- 
 tional Guard, furnished them with muskets and ammunition, 
 opened an asylum to the wounded, gave aid and provision to 
 the brave defenders of the country, watched over the most re- 
 gular and best adapted construction of the barricades, and took 
 care of the public tranquillity, and distribution of provisions. 
 The mairie of the eleventh arrondissement, presided over by 
 M. Lamercier, of the institute, earned in particular the grati- 
 tude of all the citizens. 
 
 The killed in these three days, amounted to more than two 
 thousand : and the number of the wounded may be estimated 
 at five thousand. 
 
 Two days having elapsed, in the absence of public autho- 
 rity, the deputies present in Paris, feeling themselves au- 
 thorized by existing circumstances, nominated a committee to 
 . watch over the public interests. On the 30th of July, the de- 
 puties assembled in great numbers, in the hall of their sessions, 
 and temporarily filled the offices of state. General La Fayette 
 was appointed Commander-in-chief of the National Guards. 
 The next business of the deputies, was to invite the Duke of 
 Orleans to assume the reins of government, with the title of 
 Lieutenant General of the kingdom ; on the 7th of August he 
 was elected King of France. 
 
610 HISTORICAL CABINET 
 
 Charles X. having been abandoned by the greater part of hia 
 army and ministers, abdicated the throne ; commissioners were 
 appointed to accompany him to Cherbourg, where he embark- 
 ed with his family for England. 
 
 AN ACCOUNT OF THE INDIAN OR SPASMODIC CHOLERA. 
 
 [From the (London) Westminster Review.] 
 
 Since the Black Plague slaughtered one fourth of the inhab- 
 itants of Europe, in the fourteenth century, no pestilence ha3 
 ravaged the world to such a frightful extent, and with such un- 
 appeasable ferocity, as Spasmodic Cholera. In the short period 
 of fifteen years, it has ransacked Eastern Asia, the islands of 
 the African Sea, Persia, Arabia, Mesopotamia, Syria, Russia, and 
 Poland. It has traversed the Grand Duchy of Posen and Gal- 
 lic ia, it has visited Prussia, and it is now marching through 
 Germany. Wherever it has yet appeared, it has seldom destroyed 
 fewer than one-third of the diseased ; in general it is fatal in pro- 
 portion of one-half; and not unfrequently three-fifths, two-thirds, 
 and even six-sevenths of the infected have perished. Little re- 
 spect has been hitherto paid to any country which it has inva- 
 ded, whether insular or continental ; whether distinguished for 
 its salubrious or pestilential character. It has traversed the burn- 
 ing sands of Arabia as rapidly as the banks of the Euphrates ; 
 Caucasus and Mount Ararat, in common with the jungly marsh- 
 es which are periodically bathed in the waters of the Ganges ; 
 and although the number of the healthy whom it has infected, 
 and the number of the infected whom it has destroyed, consid- 
 erably vary with the density, health, and habits of the population, 
 the Tartar and the Turk, the Indian Nabob and the Persian 
 Prince, have indiscriminately suffered. 
 
 Cholera is a disease which has been long known and fully de- 
 scribed by many authors ; but until about the middle of the 
 seventeenth century, neither its prevalence nor fatality was such 
 as to invest it with the character which it now wears. As it 
 usually appeared during the heat of summer and the* fruit 
 season, it was very generally ascribed to an elevated tempera- 
 ture and the immoderate use of fruit ; but although it was occa- 
 sionally violent, its ordinary features were by no means alarm- 
 ing. Sydenham says that it appeared in an epedemic form in 
 England during the summers of 1669 and 1676, and that its 
 symptoms were so severe, as to u frighten the by-standers, and 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 511 
 
 kill the patient in twenty-four hours." According to Le Begus 
 de Presle, it prevailed in 1762 in Bengal, and carried off 30,000 
 negroes and 800 Europeans. Dr. Paisley mentions it as being 
 at Madras, in 1774; in 1775 it seems to have invaded the Mau- 
 ritius; and in 1781, a division of Bengal troops were attacked 
 by it so fiercely at Ganjam, that 5,000 were admitted into the 
 hospital during the first day, and by the end of the third, the half 
 of the entire corps were ill. Men, previously in perfect health, 
 instantly dropped dead upon the ground, and few survived the 
 first hour, who did not ultimately recover. In 1780, during a 
 festival at Hurdwar, it destroyed 20,000 people ; and in the re 
 cords of Madras it is stated to have raged at Arcot, in 1787, as 
 an epidemic. 
 
 It is therefore, erroneous to maintain, that this pestilence made 
 its first entree into notice in 1817; for, with the exception that 
 the evacuations are described as " mostly" bilious, in the Cholera 
 of Arcot, whereas in the present epidemic they are " always" 
 watery, the symptoms of both affections are precisely the same. 
 Trallian divides Cholera into the bilious diarrhoea, the bilious 
 Cholera, and the Cholera without bile ; and as Dr. Johnson ob- 
 serves that this disease assumes every degree of violence from 
 the mort de chien, in which nothing but phlegm is ejected, to 
 an ordinary Cholera, in which the ejections are principally com- 
 posed of bile, it is not unreasonable to infer that the Cholera of 
 1817 is only an aggravated form of a disease which had existed 
 previously. The Brahmins have long since described a malady 
 which they call Vishuchi ; and the Japanese a similar affection 
 which they call Senki ; both of which have a very striking re- 
 semblance to Spasmodic Cholera ; and certain it is that Syden- 
 ham, whose accuracy of observation is well known, never al- 
 ludes, in his description of the severe form of Cholera which he 
 witnessed, to the existence of bile in the evacuations, merely call- 
 ing them " parvi humores," or bad humors. 
 
 But however this may be ultimately settled, a very malignant 
 form of this disease suddenly appeared on the 28th of August, 
 1817, at Jessore, a town situated about one hundred miles north- 
 east of Calcutta. From twenty to thirty died daily, and although 
 the inhabitants became at length terrified, and deserted their ha- 
 bitations, 6,000 perished in the short space of a few weeks. It 
 rapidly spread through the neighboring country to Dacca, Patna, 
 Dinnapore, and Nuddea. In September, it reached Calcutta, 
 and since that time the metropolis of British India has been re- 
 gularly invaded by it during every succeeding season. In No- 
 fe.nber, when the English army were preparing to go out to 
 
512 HISTORICAL CABINET, 
 
 battle with the Hindostan chiefs, it attacked its central division 
 and in ten days destroyed 764 officers, and 8,500 men. From 
 Calcutta it traveled westward to Bahar, and from Bahar north- 
 ward to Beneres, Lucknow, Cawnpore, and Delhi. It then di 
 rected its course southward to Agra, Hussingabad, and Nagpore. 
 From Nagpore it again struck off in a south-west direction to 
 Aurungabad, then to Panwell and Poonah ; and by the second 
 week in September, 1818, it took up its residence in Bombay, 
 on the western coast of the Indian Peninsula. 
 
 Notwithstanding this rapid journey from Jessore to Bombay, it 
 was equally active in its movements along the Coromandel coast, 
 in reaching Madras ; for, while it was shooting northward from 
 Jessore to Dacca, it was at the same time penetrating southward 
 to Chittagong. By the 20th of March, it had entered Ganjam, 
 it reached Aska in April, in May it was at Vizianagram, at Ma- 
 zulipatam in July, and on the 8th of October, 1818, it had entered 
 Madras, about a month after its appearance at Bombay. Now, 
 when it is considered that during the winter months the cold 
 had rendered it inactive, it will appear that this pestilence 1 ra- 
 versed the whole Peninsula of India, or about 66,000 square 
 leagues in less than a year. 
 
 It is not our intention to enumerate and describe the various 
 irruptions which Cholera has made from that period to the pre- 
 sent time in British India ; suffice it to say, that with the excep- 
 tion of the winter seasons, it has unceasingly preyed upon our 
 Eastern settlements. Towards the close of each November, it 
 only hybernates to rest, that on the approach of spring it may 
 burst forth afresh to repeat its injuries ; and, although it has thus 
 swept, with the besom of destruction, its towns and its rivers up- 
 wards of fourteen times, it still finds fresh victims for the slaugh- 
 ter, and it still betrays a poison as malignant and as unmanagea- 
 ble as ever. Even the inferior animals are said not to be exempt 
 from its influence. On its first appearance a great number of 
 cattle died in the most extraordinary manner, in the grand army 
 of India. During the October of 1827, many of the dogs in 
 the streets of Calcutta were attacked with Cholera symptoms 
 and killed. Mr. Chalmer observes that in the towns near the 
 hills, where the epidemic was so fatal, a disease occurred among 
 the cattle, which kept pace with, and often exceeded in mortality 
 that of the human species. According to Dr. Ranken, goats 
 and camels died of it in Rajputana; and it would appear that at 
 Vercelli, in Italy, the same phenomena sometimes occur, when 
 the ordinary Cholera is more than usually severe. Mr. Searle 
 examined some ducks, which he was convinced died of the 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 513 
 
 Cholera, and he found in their stomachs and bowels the same 
 appearances which are discovered in the human subjects after 
 death. 
 
 A few months after its first appearance at Jessore, and while it 
 was traveling through the northern provinces, it began to ravage 
 along the eastern shore of the Gulf of Bengal; and in 1819 it 
 reached the kingdom of Arracan. From Arracan it extended 
 itself into Siam, and after destroying 40,000 in Banku, the capi- 
 tal of that kingdom, it passed into the peninsula of Malacca. — 
 In October, it entered the Islands of Sumatra, and Penang ; Java 
 and Borneo afterwards suffered ; Canton was attacked in 1820, 
 and at Pekin its mortality was so frightful that the government 
 were obliged to have the dead interred at their own expense. 
 From China it passed to the Philippine and Spice Islands. Thus, 
 in little more than two years did it traverse a space in Eastern 
 Asia, which, from north to south is not less than 1,300 and from 
 west to east about 1,000 leagues in diameter. 
 
 Two months after the Cholera entered Madras, it traveled along 
 the eastern shore of the Peninsula, through Arcot, to Palamcottah, 
 from whence it traversed the straits, and entering the province of 
 Jaffna, which is opposite to Palamcottah, it penetrated into the ca- 
 pital of Ceylon, which is situated in the very center of the island. 
 About the same period, the Mauritius was attacked ; and on the 
 14th of January, 1820, it appeared at the town of St. Denis, in the 
 isle of Bourbon, which is only forty leagues south-west of the 
 Mauritius. In July, 1821, it betrayed itself at Muscat, on the 
 southern extremity of the Arabian Peninsula. The neighbor- 
 ing islands of Ormus and Kishme, in the mouth of the Persian 
 Gulf, were shortly afterwards infected ; by August it had ascend- 
 ed along the eastern coast of Arabia, as far as the island of 
 Bahreim ; and not long alter, entered Bassorah, on the northern 
 extremity of the Persian Gulf. Opposite the little island of Or- 
 mus, is the port of Bender- Abassi, in Persia, the principal sea- 
 port town in which the Persians conduct commerce with Brit- 
 ish India. The Cholera broke out here with so much violence, 
 that the bazaars were closed, and the dead left unburied. Those 
 who escaped its first onset, abandoned their houses, and sought 
 for safety in flight. Shiraz, which is about 100 leagues north- 
 west of Bender-Abassi, manifested symptoms of the pestilence 
 in Sept., and during the first nine days 4,500 persons perished. 
 Yerd afterwards suffered, and by the time £he disease had reached 
 Ispahan, the cold seasons had far advanced, so that its severity 
 was much lessened, and it soon wholly disappeared. On the re- 
 commencement of spring, however, it developed itself afresh, 
 
514 HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 and spreading from Ispahan, where it had wintered, round the con* 
 tiguous Persian provinces, it visited in succession, Kermanshah, 
 Cashan, Khom, Casbin, and Tauris, following, as it invariably 
 did, whether in Asia or Europe, the great commercial lines of 
 national intercourse. At Tauris 4,800 perished in the short 
 space of twenty-five days, when it left the town, and traveled 
 on through Khaz, Erivan, and Kars, to Erzeroum on the south- 
 ern shore of the Black Sea. The prince royal of Persia had 
 driven the Turkish army into this town, in the month of July; 
 but immediately after his victory, Cholera broke out with such 
 devestating fury among the Persian forces, that from thirty to 
 forty died daily, and the soldiers became so dispirited that they 
 precipitately retreated, and left the prince with his ministers to 
 sign an armistice at Khoe. 
 
 Before the disease quitted Bassorah, in 1821, from 15,000 to 
 18,000 of its inhabitants were destroyed; and so dreadful was 
 the havoc which it made in the surrounding country, that Dr. 
 Meunier says the third of the population fell before it. At Bag- 
 dad it was so prevalent that a Persian army, which was march- 
 ing against the town, was compelled to withdraw, but were pur- 
 sued by the pestilence, and among the other losses which it sus- 
 tained, their commander fell. In the spring of 1822 it appeared 
 between the Tigris and Euphrates ; in July it attacked Mosul, 
 which is about sixty leagues north of Bagdad, and then traveling 
 more westward, it passed through Merdine, Diarbekir, Orfa, Biri, 
 and Antab, on its way to Aleppo, in Syria, which it reached in 
 November. During the winter, as usual, it lay dormant, but in 
 the spring of 1823 it revived, and visited Latakia, Antioch, Tor- 
 tosa, Tripoli, and other towns on the borders of the Mediterrane- 
 an sea. By the end of July it had advanced in the direction of 
 Sarkin, Arsous, Khankaramont, and the Gulf of Alexandretta ; 
 and passing over the high mountains of Beylam, it entered the 
 towns of Adena and Tarsous. In 1824 it appeared at Tiberias 
 in Judea. 
 
 Thus have Arabia, Persia, Mesopotamia, and Syria, been 
 ov3rrun by Cholera in little more than two years; traversing 
 every species of country from the arid deserts of Irac- Arabia 
 to the succulent banks of the Euphrates, and depopulating almost 
 every village in its path, with a pertinacious obstinacy which hu- 
 man skill was seldom able to overcome. It will be seen that the 
 disease, during this journey, took two distinct routes through 
 these countries, which it prosecuted with equal energy. By the 
 one it penetrated Arabia, attacked Bassorah, ascended the Eu< 
 phrateS; ravaged Mesopotamia, and finally appeared in Syria, 
 
HISTORICAL CABINET. 515 
 
 where it committed frightful havoc among the towns skirting 
 the Mediterranean sea. By the other it traveled through the 
 very center of Persia, until, in 1823, it reached the shores of the 
 Caspian. 
 
 Early in September, 1823, it entered Astracan, a large and 
 populous town seated on the northern shore of the Caspian, at 
 the mouth of the Volga. The Russian fleet were first infected, 
 but 216 persons were all who fell ill, and of those 144 died. As 
 soon as it became known to the Russian government that Astra- 
 can was invaded, they dispatched a medical commission, com- 
 posed of six physicians, to investigate its character ; a physician 
 was sent into Persia with the same view ; a Board of Health 
 was established at Petersburgh, and every exertion was made to 
 prevent its extension farther north. How far such preventive 
 measures were connected with the result, it may be difficult to 
 decide ; but certain it is, that the disease got no farther in that 
 direction that year than Astracan, and did not again appear in 
 Russia until towards the close of 1828, when it unexpectedly 
 entered the town of Orenburg, as is supposed by some through 
 the caravans which came from Upper Asia, and by others, 
 through the Kirghis-Cossacks, who neighbor Orenburg, and are 
 said to have been infected by the disease. As the cold season 
 commenced shortly after its appearance, the mortality which it 
 occasioned was not great until the spring of 1829, when it raged 
 with great severity, both in the town and neighborhood, and 
 entered the forts of Rassyphaya and Isetzk. On the 31st of 
 July, 1830, it again appeared in Astracan; by the 10th of August 
 1,229 were ill, of whom 433 died ; and by the 27th, no fewer than 
 4,043 within the town, and 21,268 throughout the province of 
 which it is the capital, perished. After committing this unpre- 
 cedented destruction, it pursued a north-west course along the 
 banks of the Volga, making tributary to its power the populous 
 towns of SaratofF, Penza, Samara, and Kazan. Kazan it reached 
 on the 5th of September, and on the 26th of the same month its 
 symptoms were first detected in Moscow. The town was immedi- 
 ately divided into forty-seven compartments, which were separa- 
 ted from each other by a cordon sanitaire ; ten temporary hospi- 
 tals were erected, and Count Zakrewski, the Minister of Interior, 
 was appointed by the Emperor to superintend these protective ar- 
 rangements. The Emperor himself visited the town when the 
 disease was at its height, and when he left to go to Twer, by sub- 
 mitting to a quarantine of eight days, he gave an example of obedi- 
 ence to the sanatory laws. During the first ten days of October, 
 747 died ; from the 10th to the 20th, 958 perished ; and from the 
 36 
 
61C HISTORICAL CABINET. 
 
 20th to the 31st, 1,284 sunk under the disease. At first the mor 
 'ality was as great as nine-tenths ; it afterwards diminished to 
 Beven-eights, five-sixths, three-fourths, one-half, and ultimately to 
 one-third. During even the winter months, which had beei* 
 hitherto a complete specific against its progress, when all tho 
 rivers were covered with ice, it carried on its work of death ; bul 
 the number who were infected gradually decreased, and tho 
 mortality proportionally diminished. 
 
 Having now traveled so far north, it was almost universally 
 expected that the Cholera would have soon reached Petersburgh, 
 and from thence have extended to the shores of the Baltic ; but the 
 capital, at this time escaped, and the disease, taking an almost 
 opposite direction, accompanied the Russians into Poland. Du- 
 ring the revolution of July, in 1830, a body of troops were order- 
 ed out of the province of Koursk, in the country of the Cossacks, 
 which was then infected, to march against the Poles. These 
 troops, in their passage through Podolia, and Volhynia, took 
 with them the disease along their entire line of march. The towns 
 of Astrog, Zaslaf, and Luck were infected ; and a few leagues 
 from this latter place the disease passed the Bug, and entered Po- 
 land. Lublin was attacked towards the end of March, 1831 , by 
 the first of April, the hospitals of Siedlec were filled with Russians 
 laboring under the malady ; ten days afterwards it was discover- 
 ed among the wounded at Praga, which is separated from War- 
 saw only by the Vistula; and on the 14th it entered the capital of 
 Poland. According to the Central Committee of Health, from 
 100 to 150 died during the first week, out of every 1,000 sick ; 
 and according to the Berlin Gazette, during thirteen days, end- 
 ing on the 5th of May, there had been between the town and the 
 camp 2,580 sick, of whom 1,110 died, and 1,278 still remained 
 under treatment. On the 8th of May, Ostrolenka, Lomza, 
 Szczuczzyn, Drohicyzn, Pultusk, Makow, Nesielskal, and 
 Plousk, were ill ; on the 24th it appeared at Polangen ; on the 
 25th at Riga, and by the 28tb it had reached Dantzic, in Prus- 
 sia, Brody and Lemberg in Austria. On the 26th of June, 
 the disease entered Petersburgh; early in August, it appears to 
 have invaded Hungary, and by the beginning of September. 
 it had entered Germany, and was traveling rapidly towards 
 Vienna. 
 
 THE END. 
 
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