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From the Library of
SIMEON E. BALDWIN, Y '61.
Gift of his cliildren
HELEN BALDWIN OILMAN
ROGER SHERMAN BALDWIN, Y '90
1927

aniiiol- of ai-eqt Cities of it)e aUoH9, &c.

THE

PANOKAMA OF NATIONS.

ooMPBisma

THE CHARACTERISTICS OP COURAGE, PERSEVERANCE, ENTER
PRISE, CUNNING, SHREWDNESS, VIVACITY, INGENUITY,
CONTEMPT OP DANGER AND OP DEATH EXHIBITED
BY PEOPLE OP THE

PRINCIPAL NATIONS OF THE WORLD.

AS tLLUSTEATED IN NAREAT1VE9 OP

PERIL AND ADVENTURE.

BY JOHN FROST, LL.D.
Ill
AUTHOR OP UNIVERSAL NAVAL HISTORY, ETC., ETC.

AUBUKN AND ROCHESTER:
ALDEN AND BEARDSLEY.
NEW TORK :
J. 0. DERBY, 119 NASSAU STREET.
1855.

Entered acoording to Act of Congress, in the year 1852, by
JOHN FROST,
U the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States,
in and for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania.

PREFACE.

A BOOK of tales and sketches, illustrating the
manners and customs of the nations of the earth,
must possess a variety of interest and instruction.
To the attraction of a common geographical pano
rama, it adds, life only to be found in stories of hu
man passion and narratives of adventure; while
the distinguishing features of national character,
7

PREFACE.

and the many differences in manners and customs
among the population of the world may be noted
and studied in such a book with decided benefit.
Here may be seen the restless, daring and inqui
sitive citizen of the United States — ^the noble,
haughty but criiel Indian — the indolent, fickle and
pleasure-loving Mexican — the degenerate descend
ant of the Spaniard in South America — the proud,
substantial and dominion-loving Englishman — the
hardy Highlander — the fun-and-fight-loving Irish
man — the vain, but brave and lively Frenchman —
the haughty, hot-blooded and vindictive Spaniard
— ^the fickle, indolent and superstitious Italian — ^the
strong-willed, plodding, industrious German — the
bold and patriotic Swiss — the persevering and in
telligent Swede and Norwegian — ^the stubborn,
reverential Russian — the ease-loving, Christian-
hating Turk — the daring and lively Greek — the
handsome and manly Circassians — the roving Tar
tars — ^the ingenuous and industrious Chinese — the
idol-worshipping Hindoo— the piratical inhabitant
of the Barbary States— and the almost brutal

PREFACE.

African — all acting out their characters — together
with those people who may be said to be but
tinged "with the traits of these nations.
The book has numerous illustrations, which will
serve to fix many thrilling incidents in the memory *
of the reader. Their use is now generally appre
ciated, and in a work intended, as the " Panorama
of Nations" is, for popular circulation, they could
not be omitted without a serious vacancy being
felt. These are engraved from excellent designs
by Croome and other distinguished artists.
The reader will travel the whole world in com
pany 'with a narrator, whose endeavour it will be
to rival in the interesting and vivid delineations of
real events, the strong colouring, the romantic and
thrilling incidents, the extraordinary vicissitudes
and wild play of passions, which characterize the
productions of the improvisatori of Italy or the
story tellers of the Arabian caravanserais.

.CONTENTS.

Introduction  . • . 13
Ascent op the Kockt Mountains . . , ¦ . , 17
The Mountaineers and the Califoeniams . . . .34
Daniel Boone  51
Whaling Adventures  , . 61
A Spanish Bull-Fight ........ 84
Adtenture on tee Concortado ...... 85
The Peruvian Indians  94
Adventure on the Puna op Peru ..... 97
Treatment op Prisoners b7 Bosas  100
Scotch and English Hunters in South Africa . . . 102
Darlng Exploit op British Sailors  115
Life vx Ireland  122
Highland Sport  128
The Wild Boar and the Welshman  144
The Last op the Contrabandieri . . . ; . 152
Don Ciro, or the Priest-Robber  176
Stort of Spanish Brigands '  198
The Smuggler's Leap — A Passage in the Ptrenees . .' 202
The Carmagnole  211
Charles and Susannb — A Real Incident .... 217
The Walchbren Expedition  225
Dufatbl's Adventure in the Well  243
The Wolves op Russia  247
The Retreat from Moscoiv  • . 254
Life in Siberia  261
The Avalanche  275
Tbie Three Friends of Brussels  280
(11)

12

CONTENTS,

The Wild Boar op the Hartz .
A Bear Hunt in the Pyrenees . . . .
The Pindarries 
The Highlanders of India, os the Rohilla Robbers
The Tiger op India 
A Romance of the Bedouins
Macomo, the Caffbe Chief ....
A Late Remarkable Trial at Gibraltar .
The Tartar Bandit 
Caled and Obeidah 
Capture op Chuzan , 
The King of Persia's Female Guards ,
The Polish Guard . . . ...
The Forest Ride op a West India Planter
An Exploring Adventure in Australia
Christmas in Sweden 
A Peep at Peraharra 
Hunting in the Indian Archipelago
A Walk through Constantinople .
The Jews of Egtpt ....
A Visit to Bombat 
Madam Pfeiffer at Tahiti
An Adventure on the Dee ....
Sfeciuen of a Spanish Revolution .

FAGI
, 289299
, 310324328336340347
352363373381387
392395
402414
425 443
462469482
494508

THE
PANORAMA OF NATIONS.

To catch the distinguishing features and the common expres
sion of national character is, or should be, one great object with
those who consult history. Yet the assertion is well-founded,
that the desire for such knowledge is more easily and more com
pletely gratified by recourse to narratives of accident and adven
ture. These bring the qualities of men into full play, and set
the national traits before us in boldest relief and freshest hues.
The peculiarities of nature and habit, which mark the people of
a particular country, seldom attract the notice of general history
in its stately march. From it we are obliged to extort what
we wish by a tedious and painful process. What more striking
display of the pure American character can we find than the ex
ploits and labors of the hardy borderers — the iron men of the
west ? Yet in what well-known history have they been awarded
a place ? Nor have the characteristic habits and achievements of
the various nations of the Eastern World been better treated.
Revolutions of state,, and the monstrous deeds of war, fill up the
measure of national record.
A series of narratives, in which the procession of nations
shall pass before the mind, in their native garb, and performing
their native parts, cannot but possess a powerful interest. The
keen-eyed,restless, and daring American, fuU'of enterprize and fun,
and ready to meet death in any shape be may assume — the burly,
2 fl8)

14 THE PANORAMA OF NATIONS.

haughty, and reserved Englishman, coolly observing others, and
while preferring home and quiet, ready upon occasion for the
most daring enterprizes — the serious and shrewd Scot, the son of
the heath and hill — the rollicking Irishman — the brisk, vain,
showy, yet valorous Frenchman — the proud and chivalrous
Spaniard — the indolent and intellectual Italian, interesting, even
in his bandit life — the industrious, close-fisted, superstitious Grer-
man — the firm, bold, rapacious Cossack — the laborious Scandi
navian — the ingenious, but treacherous Chinese — and the almost
apish Negro, are seen in the train, not performing the general
part of men, but acting with individual and peculiar force. Here
may they be studied to the best advantage. Here do they revel
among their own loved scenes.
While such narratives awaken and satisfy a thirst for a knowl
edge of the traits of different nations ; they furnish the lovers of
adventure and thrilling incident with an abundance of food.
Courage, daring, intelligence, skill, and virtue, are brought to
the test of danger and temptation, and their triumphs or defeats
are pregnant with interest and instruction for all mankind. Wis
dom and virtue belong to no particular country, nor to any par
ticular people. They are golden fruit, and are produced in every
clime, and by every class. True courage, which dreads no danger
in the search of right and in its support, will be found illustrated
in the histories of all nations, together with its mimic, animal
effrontery. The vices, too, are equally distributed among men.
If, as a general thing, one people has more frankness than
another, the account will be found balanced by its want of vene
ration for principle or something else.
Whatever is foreign to our customs and notions either excites
our disgust, or interests us by its very n6velty. The rage for
a knowledge of the peculiarities of other nations, in America at
least, proves that the latter is the most common result. It is hoped
therefore, that we shall be able, in the course of the present work,
to convey a complete idea of the characteristics of all the different
peoples, whose exploits and customs may be touched upon, and
yet retain the interest 'of those who peruse it.

COLONEL FBEMONT.

ASCENT OF THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS

One of the best representatives of American energy and per
severance, and of a combination of those qualities which make
the successful man, is Col. John C. Fremont. As the explorer
of the far west, he has acquired a world-wide fame, while his
name is strongly linked with the conquest and colonization of the
vast region bordering upon the Pacific. In the records of few
expeditions can be found so many deeds of daring, and displays
of fortitude as in the first exploring tour of Col. Fremont. At
the head of twenty-one men, he set out from St. Louis in May,
1842. Most of the men of the party were experienced hunters
and were well acquainted with the region between St. Louis and
the Rocky Mountains. The renowned Kit Carson was chosen for
guide. This man had scarcely an equal in the west, and was
regarded as the beau ideal of a mountaineer. Nothing daunted
him, and his ingenuity surmounted many difliculties which seemed
a bar to the progress of others. One great achievement, the
2* a7)

18 ASCENT OF THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS.

ascent to the highest peak of the Rocky Mountains, will show the
diaraeter of the party and its indomitable captain.
" Early in the morning," says Fremont, " we left the camp,
fifteen in number, well armed, of course, and mounted on our best
mules. A pack-animal carried our provisions, with a coffee-pot
and kettle, and three or four tin oups. Every man had a blanket
strapped over his saddle, to serve for his bed, and the instruments
were carried by turns on their backs. We entered directly on
rough and rooky ground; and, just after crossing the ridge, had
the good fortune to shoot an antelope. We heard the roar, and
had a glimpse of a waterfall as we rode along, and crossing in
our way two fine streams, tributary to the Colorado, in about two
hours' ride we reached the top of the first row or range of the
mountains. Here, again, a view of the most romantic beauty
met our eyes. It seemed as if, from the vast expanse of uninte
resting prairie we had passed over, Nature had collected all her
beauties together in one chosen place. We were overlooking a
deep valley, which was entirely occupied by three lakes, and from
the brink to the surrounding ridges rose precipitously five hun
dred and a thousand feet, covered with the dark green of the
balsam pine, relieved on the border of the lake with the light
foliage of the aspen. They all communicated with each other,
and the green of the waters, common to mountain lakes of great
depth, showed that it would be impossible to cross them. The
surprise manifested by our guides when these impassable obstacles
suddenly barred our progress, proved that they were among the
hidden treasures of the place, unknown even to the wandering
trappers of the region. Descending the hill, we proceeded to
make our way along the margin to the southern extremity. A
narrow strip of angular fragments of rook sometimes afforded a
rough pathway for our mules, but generally we rode along the
shelving side, occasionally scrambling up, at a considerable risk
of tumbling back into the lake.
" The slope was frequently 60° ; the pines grew densely to
gether, and the ground was covered with the branches and trunks
of trees. The air was fragrant with the odor of the pines ; and

ASCENT OF THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 19

I realized this delightful morning the pleasure of breathing that
mountain air whioh makes a constant theme of the hunter's
praise, and which now made us feel as if we had all been drink
ing some exhilarating gas. The depths of this unexplored forest
were a place to delight the Tieart of a botanist. Thei;e was a rich
undergrowth of plants, and numerous gay-colored flowers in bril
liant bloom. We reached the outlet at length, where some
freshly-barked willows that lay in the water showed that beaver
had been recently at work. There were some small brown
squirrels jumping about in the pines, and a couple of large mal
lard ducks swimming about in the stream.
" The hills on this southern end were low, and the lake looked
like a mimic sea, as the waves broke on the sandy beach in the
force of a strong breeze. There was a pretty open spot, with fine
grass for our mules ; and we made our noon halt on the beach,
under the shade of some large hemlocks. We resumed our jour
ney after a halt of about an hour, making our way up the ridge
on the western side of the lake. In search of smoother ground
we rode a little inland ; and, passing through groves of aspen,
soon found ourselves again among the pines. Emerging from
these, we struck the summit of the ridge above the upper end of
the lake.
" We had reached a very elevated point, and in the valley be
low, and among the hills, were a number of lakes of different
levels ; some two or three hundred feet above others, with which
they communicated by foaming torrents. Even to our great
height the roar of the cataracts came up, and we could see them
leaping down in lines of snowy foam. From this scene of busy
waters, we turned abruptly into the stillness of a forest, where
we rode among the open bolls of the pines, over a lawn of verdant
grass, having strikingly the air of cultivated grounds. This led
ns, after a time, among masses of rock which had no vegetable
earth but in hoUows and crevices though still the pine forest con
tinued. Towards evening we reached a defile, or rather a hole
la the mountains, entirely shut in by dark pine-covered rocks.
" A small stream, with scarcely perceptible current, flowed

20 ASCENT OF THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS.

throu^gh a level bottom of perhaps eighty yards width, where the
grass was saturated with water. Into this the mules were turned,
and were neither hobbled nor picketed during the night, as the
fine pasturage took away all temptation to stray ; and we made
our bivouac in the pines. The surrounding masses were all of
granite. While supper was being prepared, I set out on an ex
cursion in the neighborhood, accompanied by one of my men.
We wandered about among the crags and ravines until dark,
richly repaid for our walk by a fine collection of plants, many of
them in full bloom. Ascending a peak to find the place of our
camp, we saw that the little defile in which we lay communicated
with the long green valley of some stream, which, here locked up
in the mountains, far away to the south, found its way in a dense
forest to the plains.
" Looking along its upward course, it seemed to conduct, by a
smooth gradual slope, directly towards the peak, which, from long
consultation as we approached the mountain, we had decided to
be the highest of the range. Pleased with the discovery of so
fine a road for the next day, we hastened down to the camp, where
we arrived just in time for supper. Our table-service was rather
scant ; and we held the meat in our hands, and clean rodis made
good plates, on which we spread our macaroni. Among all the
strange places on which we had occasion to encamp during our
long journey, none have left so vivid an impression on my mind
as the camp of this evening. The disorder of the masses which
surrounded us — the little hole through which we saw the stars
over head — the dark pines where we slept — and the rocks lit up
with the glow of our fires, made a night-picture of very wild
beauty. "13th. — ^The morning was bright and pleasant, just cool
enough to make exercise agreeable, and we soon entered the de
file I had seen the preceding day. It was smoothly carpeted with
soft grass, and scattered over with groups of flowers, of which
yellow was the predominant color. Sometimes we were forced,
by an occasional diflicult pass, to pick our way on a narrow ledge
along the side of the defile, and the mules were frequently

ASCENT OF THE HOCKT MOUNTAINS. 21

on their knees ; but these obstructions were rare, and we jiour-
Heycd on in the sweet morning air, delighted at our good fortune
in having found such a beautiful entrance to the mountains.
This road continued for about three miles, when we suddenly
reached its termination in one of the grand views which, at every
turn, meet the traveler in this magnificent region. Here the
defile up which we had traveled opened out into a small lawn,
where, in a little lake, the stream had its source.
" There were some fine asters in bloom, but all the flowering
plants appeared to seek the shelter of the rocks, and to be of
lower growth than below, as if they loved the warmth of the
soil, and kept out of the way of the winds. Immediately at our
feet, a precipitous descent led to a confusion of defiles, and before
us rose the mountains. It is not by the splendor of far-off views,
which have lent such a glory to the Alps, that these impress the
mind; but by a gigantic disorder of enormous masses, and a
savage sublimity of naked rock, in wonderful contrast with innu
merable green spots of a rich floral beauty, shut up in their stern
recesses. Their wildness seems well suited to the character of
the people who inhabit the country.
" I determined to leave our animals here, and make the rest
of our way on foot. The peak appeared so near, that there was
no doubt of our returning before night ; and a few men were
left in charge of the mules, with our provisions and blankets. We
took with us nothing but our arms and instruments, and, as the
day had become warm, the greater part left our coats. Having
made an early dinner, we started again. We were soon involved
in the most ragged precipices, nearing the central chain very
slowly, and rising but little. The first ridge hid a succession of
others; and when, with great fatigue and difliculty, we had'
climbed up five hundred feet, it was but to make an equal descent
on the other side ; all these intervening places were filled with
small deep lakes, which met the eye in every direction, descend
ing from one level to another, sometimes under bridges formed
by huge fragments of granite, beneath which was heard the roar
of the water. These constantly obstructed our path, forcing us

22 ASCENT OF THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS.

to make long detours; frequently obliged to retrace our steps,
and frequently falling among the rocks. Maxwell was precipi
tated towards the face of a, precipice, and saved Mmself from
going over by throwing himself flat on the ground. We
clambered on, always expecting, with every ridge thai we
Grossed) to reach the foot of the peaks, and always disappointedj
until about four o'clock, when, pretty well worn outj we reached
the shore of a little lake, in which was a roekjr island. We re
mained here a short time to rest, and continued on around the
lakej which had in some places a beach of white sand, and in
others w&s bound with rocks, over whioh the way was diflicult
and dangeroUSj as the water from innumerable springs made them
very slippery.
" By the time we had reached the further side of the lake, we
found ourselves all exceedingly fatigued, and, much to the satis
faction of. the whole party, we encamped. The spot we had
chosen was a broad flat rock, in some measure protected from the
winds by the surrounding crags, and the trunks of fallen pines
afforded us bright fires. Near by was a foaming torrent, which
tumbled into the little lake about one hundred and fifty feet below
us, and which, by way of distinction, we have called Island lake.
We had reached the upper limit of the piney region j as, above
this point, no tree was to be Seen, and patches of snow lay every
where around us, on the cold sides of the rocks. The flora of
the region we had traversed since leaving our mules was extremely
rich, and, among the characteristic plants, the scarlet flowers of
the dodecatheon dentatum everywhere met the eye, in great abun
dance. A small green ravine, on the edge of which we were
encampedj was filled with a profusion of alpine plants, in brilliant
bloom. Froin barometrical observation, made during our three
days' sojourn at this place, its elevation above the Gulf of Mexico
is 10,000 feet. During the day, we had seen no sign of animal
life ; but among the rocks here, we heard what was supposed to
be the bleat of a young goat, which we searched for with hungry
a«tivity, and found to proceed from a small animal of gray color,
with short ears and no tail — probably the Siberian squirrel. We

KOCKT MOUNTAIN GOAT.

ASCENT OF THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 23

saw a considerable number of them, and with the exception of a
small bird like a sparrow, it is the only inhabitant of this elevated
part of the mountains. On our return, we saw, below this lake,
large flocks of the mountain-goat. We had nothing to eat to
night. Lajeunesse, with several others, took their guns, and
sallied out in search of a goat; but returned unsuccessful. At
sunset, the barometer stood at 20-522 ; the attached thermometer
50°. Here we had the misfortune to break our thermometer,
having now only that attached to the barometer. I was taken ill
shortly after we had encamped, and continued so until late in the
night, with violent headache and vomiting. This was probably
caused by the excessive fatigue I had undergone, and want of
food, and perhaps, also, in some measure, by the rarity of the
air. The night was cold, as a violent gale from the north had
sprung up at sunset, which entirely blew away the heat of the
fires. The cold, and our granite beds, had not been favorable to
sleep, and we were glad tp see the face of the sun in the morn
ing. Not being delayed by any preparation for breakfast, we set
out immediately.
" On every side, as we advanced, we heard the roar of waters,
and of a torrent, which we followed up a short distance, until it
expanded into a lake about one mile in length. On the nortbern
side of the lake was a bank of ice, or rather of snow covered with
a crust of ice. Carson had been our guide into the mountains,
and, agreeably to his advice, we left this little valley, and took
to the ridges again, which we found extremely broken, and where
we were again involved among precipices. Here were ice-fields;
among which we were all dispersed, seeking each the best path to
ascend the peak. Mr. Preuss attempted to walk along the upper
edge of one of these fields, which sloped away at an angle of about
twenty degrees ; but his feet slipped from under him, and he went
plunging down the plain. A few hundred feet below, at the
bottom, were some fragments of sharp rock, on whioh he landed ;
and, though he turned a couple of somersets, fortunately received
no injury beyond a few bruises. Two of the men, Clement Lam
bert and Descoteauz, had been taken ill, and lay down on the

24 ASCENT OF THE EOCKt MOUNTAINS.

rocks, a short distance below ; and at this point I was attacked
with headache and giddiness, accompanied by vomiting, as on the
day before. Finding myself unable to proceed, I sent the
barometer over to Mr. Preuss, who was in a gap two or three
hundred yards distant, desiring him to reach the peak if possible,
and take an observation there. He found himself unable to pro
ceed further in that direction, and took an observation, where the
barometer stood at 19-401; attached thermometer 50°, in the
gap. Carson, who had gone over to him, succeeded in reaching
one of the snowy summits of the main ridge, whence he saw the
peak towards whioh all our efforts had been directed, towering
eight or ten hundred feet into the air above him. In the mean
time, finding myself grow rather worse than better, and doubtful
how far my strength would carry me, I sent Basil Lajeunesse,
with four men, back to the place where the mules had been left.
« We were now better acquainted with the topography of the
country, and I directed him to bring back with him, if it were in
any way possible, four or five mules with provisions and blank
ets. With me were Maxwell and Ayer : and after we had re
mained nearly an hour on the rock, it became so unpleasantly
cold, though the day was bright, that we set out on our return to
the camp, at which we all arrived safely, straggling in one after
the other. I continued ill during the afternoon, but became
better towards sundown, when my recovery was completed by the
appearance of Basil and four men, all mounted. The men who
had gone with him had been too much fatigued to return, and
were relieved by those in charge of the horses; but in his powers
of endurance Basil resembled more a mountain-goat than a man.
They brought blankets and provisions, and we enjoyed well our
dried meat and a cup of good coffee. We rolled ourselves tip in
our blankets, and, with our feet turned to a blading fire, slept
soundly until morning.
<' 15th. — It had been supposed that we had finished with the
mountains ; and the evening before it had been arranged that
Carson should set out at daylight, and return to breakfast at the
Camp of the Mules, taking with him all but four or five men, who

CHRISTOPHER CARSON.

ASCENT OF THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 2?

were to stay with me and bring back the mules and instruments.
Accordingly, at the break of day they set out. With, Mr. Preuss
and myself remained Basil Lajeunesse, Clement Lambert, Janisse,
and Descoteaux. When we had secured strength for the day by
a hearty breakfast, we covered what remained, which was enough
for one meal, with rocks, in order that it might be safe from any
marauding bird, and, saddling our mules, turned our faces once
more towards the peaks. This time we determined to proceed
quietly and cautiously, deliberately resolved to accomplish our
object if it were within the compass of human means. We were
of opinion that a long defile which lay to the left of yesterday's
route would lead us to the foot of the main peak. Our mules
had been refreshed by the fine grass in the little ravine at the
Island camp, and we intended to ride up the defile as far as
possible, in order to husband our strength for the main ascent.
Though this was a fine passage, still it was a defile of the most
rugged mountains known, and we had many a rough and steep
slippery place to cross before reaching the end. In this place
the sun rarely shone ; snow lay along the border of the small
stream whioh flowed through it, and occasional icy passages made
the footing of the mules very insecure, and the rocks and ground
were moist with the trickling waters in this spring of mighty rivers.
We soon had the satisfaction to find ourselves riding along the
huge wall which forms the central summits of the chain. There at
last it rose by our sides, a nearly perpendicular wall of granite,
terminating 2,000 to 3,000 feet above our heads in a serrated
line of broken, jagged cones. We rode on until we came almost
immediately below the main peak, which I denominated the Snow
peak, as it exhibited more snow to the eye than any of the neigh
boring summits. Here were three small lakes of a green color,
each, perhaps, of a thousand yards in diameter, and apparently very
deep. These lay in a kind of chasm ; and, according to the barom
eter, we had attained but a few hundred feet above the Island lake.
The barometer here stood at 20-450, attached thermometer 70°.
" We managed to get our mules up to a little bench about a,
hundred feet above the lakes, where there was a patch of good

28 ASCENT OF THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS.

grass, and turned them loose to graze. During our rough ride to
this place, they had exhibited a wonderful surefootedness. Parts
of the defile were filled with angular, sharp fragments of rock,
three or four and eight or ten feet cube ; and among these they
had worked their way, leaping from one narrow point to another,
rarely making a false step, and giving us no occasion to dismount.
Having divested ourselves of every unnecessary encumbrance, we
commenced the ascent. This time, like experienced travelers,
we did not press ourselves, but climbed leisurely, sitting down so
soon as we found breath beginning to fail. At intervals we
reached places where a number of springs gushed from the rocks,
and about 1800 feet above the lakes came to the snow line. From
this point our progress was uninterrupted climbing. Hitherto I
had worn a pair of thick moccasins, with soles ot parfleche, but
here I put on a light, thin pair, which I had brought for the pur
pose, as now the use of our toes became necessary to a further
advance. I availed myself of a sort of comb of the mountain,
which stood against the wall like a buttress, and which the wind
and the solar radiation, joined to the steepness of the smooth
rock, had kept almost entirely free from snow. Up this I made
my way rapidly. Our cautious method of advancing at the out
set had spared my strength ; and, with the exception of a slight
disposition to headache, I felt no remains of yesterday's illness.
In a few minutes we reached a point where the buttress was over
hanging, and there was no other way of surmounting the difficulty
than by passing around one side of it, which was the face of a
vertical precipice of several hundred feet.
" Putting hands and feet in the crevices between the blocks, I
succeeded in getting over it, and, when I reached the top, found
my companions in a small valley below. Descending to them,
we continued climbing, and in a short time reached the crest, I
sprang upon the summit, and another step would have preeipita,ted
me into an immense snow-field five hundred feet below. To the
edge of this field was a sheer icy precipice ; and then, with a
gradual fall, the field sloped off for about a mile, until it struck
the foot of another lower ridge. I stood on a narrow crest, about

COLONEL FREMONT AND HIS PARTY ON THE MOUNTAINS.

ASCENT OP THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 31

three feet in width, with an inclination of about 20° N. 51°E.
As soon as I had gratified the first feelings of curiosity, I de
scended, and each man ascended in his turn ; for I would only
allow one at a time to mount the unstable and precarious slab,
which it seemed a breath would hurl into the abyss below. We
mounted the barometer in the snow of the summit, and, fixing a
ramrod in a crevice, unfurled the national flag to wave in the
breeze where never flag waved before. During our morning's
ascent, we had met no sign of animal life, except the small spar
row-like bird already mentioned. A stillness the most profound
and a terrible solitude forced themselves constantly on the mind
as the great features of the place. Here, on the summit, where
the stillness was absolute, unbroken by any sound, and solitude
complete, we thought ourselves beyond the region of animated
life ; but while we were sitting on the rock, a solitary bee (bromu/t,
the humble-bee') came winging his flight from the eastern vall*^,
and lit on the knee of one of the men.
" It was a strange place, the icy rock and the highest peak of
the Rocky mountains, for a lover of warm sunshine and flowers ;
and we pleased ourselves with the idea that he was the firs'j of
his species to cross the mountain barrier — a solitary pioneer to
foretell the advance of civilization. I believe that a moment's
thought would have made us let him continue his way unharmed ;
but we carried out the law of this country, where all animated
nature seems at war ; and, seizing him immediately, put him in
at least a fit place — in the leaves of a large book, among the
flowers we had collected on our way. The barometer stood at
18-293, attached thermometer at 44°; giving for the elevation
of this summit 13,570 feet above the Gulf of Mexico, which may
be called the highest flight of the bee. It is certainly the highest
known flight of that insect. Prom the description given by
Mackenzie of the mountains where he crossed them, with that of
a French officer still farther to the north, and Colonel Long's
measurement to the south, joined to the opinion of the oldest
traders of the country, it is presumed that this is the highest peak
of the Rocky mountains. The day wasi sonny and bright, but a

32 ASCENT OF THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS.

slight shining mist hung over the lower plains, which interfered
with our view of the surrounding country. On one side we over
looked innumerable lakes and streams, the spring of the Colorado
of the Gulf of California; and on the other was the Wind River
valley, where were the heads of the Yellowstone branch of the
Missouri ; far to the north, we could just discover the snowy heads
of therms Tetons, where were the sources of the Missouri and
Coluiabia rivers ; and at the southern extremity of the ridge, the
peaks were plainly visible, among which were some of the springs
of the Nebraska or Platte river. Around us, the whole scene
had one main, striking feature, which was that of terrible con
vulsion. Parallel to its length, the ridge was split into chasms
and fissures ; between which rose the thin lofty walls, terminated
with slender minarets and columns. According to the barometer,
the little crest of the wall on which we stood was three thousand
five hundred and seventy feet above that place, and two thousand
seven hundred and eighty above the little lakes at the bottom,
immediately at our feet. Our camp at the Two Hills (an astro
nomical station) bore south 8° east, which with a bearing after
wards obtained from a fixed position, enabled us to locate the
peak. The bearing of the Trois Tetons was north 50° west, and
the direction of the central ridge of the Wind River mountains
south 39° east. The summit rock was gneiss, succeeded by
sienitio gneiss. Sienite and feldspar succeeded in our descent to
the snow line, where we found a feldspathic granite. I had re
marked that tho noise produced by the explosion of our pistols
had the usual degree of loudness, but was not in the least pro
longed, expiring almost instantaneously.
" Having now made what observations our means afforded, we
proceeded to descend. We had accomplished an object of
laudable ambition, and beyond the strict order of our instructions
We had climbed the loftiest peak of the Rocky mountains, and
looked down upon the snow a thousand feet below ; and, stand
ing where never human foot had stood before, felt the exultation
of first explorers. It was about two o'clock when we left the
summit, and when we reached the bottom, the sun had already

ASCENT OP THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS.

S3

sunk behind the wall, and the day Was drawing to a tilose. It
would have been pleasant to have lingered here and on the
summit longer ; but we hurried away as rapidly as the ground
would permit, for it was an object to regain our party as soon as
posMble.) not knowing what accident the next hour might bring
forth. "We reached our deposite of provisions at nightfall. Here
was not the inn which awaits the tired traveler on his return fi*om
Mont Blanc, or the orange groves of South America, with their
refreshing juices and soft fragrant air ; but we found our little
cac%e of dried meat and coffee undisturbed. Though the moon
was bright, the road was full of precipices^ and the fatigue of the
day had been great. We therefore abandoned the idea of rejoin
ing our friends, and lay down on the rock, and, in spite of the
cold, slept soundly."

MEXICAN MULETEERS.

THB MOUNTAINEERS AND THE CALIFORNIANS.

The Mission of San Fernando is situated on a small river called
Las Animas, a branch of the Los Martires. The convent is built
at the neck of a large plain, at the point of influx of the stream
from the broken spurs of the sierra. The savanna is covered with
luxuriant grass, kept down, however, by the countless herds of
cattle which pasture on it. The banks of the creek ai-e covered
with a lofty growth of oak and poplar, whioh near the Mission
have been considerably thinned for the purpose of affording fuel
and building materials for the increasing settlement. The con
vent stands in the midst of a grove of fruit-trees, its rude tower
and cross peeping above them, and contrasting picturesquely with
the wildness of the surrounding scenery. Gardens and orchards
lie immediately in front of the building, and a vineyard stretches
away to the upland ridge of the valley. The huts of the Indians
are scattered here and there, built of stone and adobe, sometimes
thatched with flags and boughs, but comfortable enough. The
convent itself is a substantial building, of the style of architecture
(34)

THE MOUNTAINEERS AND THE CALIPOENIANS. 85

characterizing monastic edifices in most parts of the world.
Loopholes peer from its plastered walls, and on a flat portion of
the roof a comically mounted gingall or wall-piece, carrying a two-
pound ball, threatens the assailant in time of war. At one end
of the oblong building, a rough, irregular arch of sun-burned
bricks is surmounted by a rude cross, un^ler which hangs a small
but deep toned bell — the wonder of the Indian peones, and highly
venerated by the frayles themselves, who received it as a present
from a certain venerable archbishop of Old Spain, and who, while
guarding it with reverential awe, tell wondrous tales of its adven
tures on the road to its present abiding place.
Of late years the number of the canonical inmates of the con
vent has been much reduced — there being but four priests now to
do the duties of the eleven who formerly inhabited it; Fray Au-
gustin, a Capuchin of due capacity of paunch, being at the head
of tbe holy quartette. Augustin is the conventual name of the
reverend father, who fails not to impress upon such casual visitants
to that ultima Thule as he deems likely to appreciate the infor
mation, that, but for his humility, he might add the sonorous
appellations of Ignacio Sabanal-Morales-y Fuentes — his family
being of the best blood of Old Castile, and known there since the
days of Ruy Gomez — el Campeador — ^possessing, moreover, half
the " vega" of the Ebro, &c., where, had fate been propitious,
he would now have been the sleek superior of a rich capuchin
convent, instead of vegetating, a leather-clad frayle, in the wilds
of California Alta.
Nevertheless, his lot is no bad one. With plenty of the best
and fattest meat to eat, whether of beef or venison, of bear or
mountain mutton ; with good wine and brandy of home make,
and plenty of it ; fruit of all climes in great abundance ; wheaten
or corn bread to suit his palate ; a tractable flock of natives to
guide, and assisted in the task by three brother shepherds; far
from the strife of polities or party — secure from hostile, attack
(not quite, by-the-by), and eating, drinking, and sleeping away
his time, one would think that Fray Augustin Ignacio Sabanal-
Morales-y Fuentes had little to trouble him, and had no cause to

36 THE MOUNTAINEERS AND THE CALIFORNIANS.

regret even the vega of Castilian Ebro, held by his family since
the days of el Campeador.
One evening Fray Augustin sat upon an adobe bench, under
the fig-tree shadowing the porch of the Mission. He was dressed in
a goat-skin jerkin, softly and beautifully dressed, and descending
to his hips, under which his only covering — ^tell it not in Gath ! —
was a long linen shirt, reaching to his knees, and lately procured
from Puebla de los Angeles, as a sacerdotal garment. Boots,
stockings, or unmentionables, he had none. A cigarito, of tobacco
rolled in corn shuck, was occasionally placed between his lips ;
whereupon huge clouds of smoke rushed in columns from his
mouth and nostrils. His face was of a golden yellow color,
relieved by arched and very black eyebrows ; his shaven chin
was of most respectable duplicity — his corporation of orthodox
dimensions. Several Indians and half-breed Mexican women
were pounding Indian corn on metates near at hand; while sundry
beef-fed urchins of whitey-brown complexion sported before the
door, exhibiting, as they passed Fray Augustin, a curious resem
blance to the strongly marked features of that worthy padre.
They were probably his nieces and nephews — a class of relations
often possessed in numbers by priests and monks.
The three remaining brothers were absent from the Mission ;
Fray Bernardo, hunting elk in the sierra ; Fray Jose, gallivanting
at Puebla de los Angeles, ten days' journey distant; Fray Chris
toval, lassoing colts upon the plain. Augustin, thus left to his
own resources, had just eaten his vespertine frijolitos and chile
Colorado, and was enjoying a post-coenal smoke of fragrant pouche
under the shadow of his own fig-tree.
While thus employed, an Indian dressed in Mexican attiro
approached him hat in hand, and, making a reverential bow,
asked his directions concerning domestic business of the Mission.
" Hola ! friend Jose," cried Fray Augustin in a thick gutteral
voice, " pensaba yo — ^1 was thinking that it was very nearly this
time three years ago when those 'malditos Americanos' came by
here and ran off with so many of our cavallada."
« True, reverend father," answered the administrador, « just

THE MOUNTAINEERS AND THE CALIFORNIANS. 37

three years ago, all but fifteen days : I remember it well. Maldi-
tos seun — curse them !"
"How many did we kill, Jose?"
" Quizas moOchos — a great many, I dare say. But they did
not fight fairly — charged right upon us, and gave us no time to
do any thing. They don't know how to fight, these Mericanos :
come right at you, before you can swing a lasso, hallooing like
Indios Bravos."
" But, Jose, how many did they leave dead on the field ?"
"Not one."
"And we?"
" Valgame Dios ! thirteen dead, and many more wounded."
" That's it ! Now if these savages come again (and the
Chemeguaba, who came in yesterday, says he saw a large trail),
we must fight adentro — within — outside is no go ; for as you very
properly say, Jose, these Americans don't know how to fight, and
kill us before — ^before we can kill them ! Vaya !"
At this moment there issued from the door of the Mission Don
Antonio Velez Trueba, a Gachupin — that is, a native of Old
Spain — a wizened old hidalgo refugee, who had left the mother
country on account of his political opinions, which were stanchly
Carlist, and had found his way — how, he himself scarcely knew —
from Mexico to San Francisco in Upper California, where, having
a most perfect contempt for every thing Mexican, and hearing
that in the Mission of San Fernando, far away, were a couple of
Spanish padres of "sangre regular," he had started into the
wilderness to ferret them out ; and having escaped all dangers on
the route (which, however, were hardly dangers to the Don, who
could not realize the idea of scalp-taking savages), had arrived
with a whole skin at the Mission. There he was received with
open arms by his countryman Fray Augustin, who made him
welcome to all the place afforded, and there he harmlessly smoked
away his time ; his heart far away on the banks of the Genii and
in the grape-bearing vegas of his beloved Andalusia, his withered
cuerpo in the sierras of Upper California. Don Antonio was the
walking essence of a Spaniard of the ancien regime. His family
4

38 THE MOUNTAINEERS AND THE CALIFORNIANS.
dated from the Flood, and with the exception of sundry refresh
ing jets of Moorish blood, injected into the Truebas during the
Moorish epoch, no strange shoot was ever engrafted on their
genealogical tree. The marriages of the family were ever confined
to the family itself— never looking to fresh blood in a station
immediately below it, whioh was not hidalgueno; nor above, since
any thing higher in rank than the Trueba y Trueba family, no
habia, there was not.
Thus, in the male and female scions of the house, were plainly
visible the ill effects of breeding " in and in." The male Truebas
were sadly degenerate Dons, in body as in mind — compared to
their ancestors of Boabdil's day; and the sennoritas of the name
were all eyes, and eyes alone, and hardly of such stamp as would
have tempted that amorous monarch to bestow a kingdom for a
kiss, as ancient ballads tell.
" Duena de la negra tooa,
Por un beso de tu boca,
Diera un reyno, Boabdil
Y yo por ello, Christiana,
Te diera de buena gana
Mil ceilos, si fueran mil."
Come of such poor stock, and reared on tobacco smoke and
" gazpaoho," Don Antonio would not have shone, even among
pigmy Mexicans, for physical beauty. Five feet high, a frame
work of bones covered with a skin of Andalusian tint, the Trueba
stood erect and stiff in all the consciousness of his " sangre regu
lar." His features were handsome, but entirely devoid of fiesh,
his upper lip was covered with a jet-black mustache mixed with
gray, his chin was bearded " like the pard." Every one around
him clad in deer and goat-skin, our Don walked conspicuous in
shining suit of black — much the worse for wear, it must be con
fessed — with beaver hat sadly battered, and round his body and
over his shoulder an unexceptionable " capa" of the amplest di
mensions. Asking, as he stepped over him, the pardon of an
Indian urchin who blocked the door, and bowing with punctilious

THE MOUNTAINEERS AND THE CALIFORNIANS. 39

politeness to the sturdy niozas who were grinding corn, Don
Antonio approached our friend Augustin, who was discussing
warlike matters with his administrador.
" Hola ! Don Antonio, how do you find yourself, sir ?"
" Perfectly well, and your very humble servant, reverend
father ; and your worship also, I trust you are in good health ?"
" Si)i noiedad — without novelty ;" which, since it was one
hour and a half since our friends had separated to take their
siestas, was not impossible.
"Myself and the worthy Jose," continued Fray Augustin,
" were speaking of the vile invasion of a band of North Ameri
can robbers, who three years since fiercely assaulted this peaceful
Mission, killing many of its inoffensive inhabitants, wounding
many more, and carrying off several of our finest colts and most
promising mules to their dens and caves in the Rocky Mountains.
Not with impunity, however, did they effect this atrocity. Jose
informs me that many of the assailants were killed by my brave
Indians. How many said you, Jose ?"
" Quizas mo-o-ochos," answered the Indian.
" Yes, probably a great multitude," continued the padre; "but,
unwarned by such well-merited castigation, it has been reported
to me by a Chemeguaba mansito, that a band of these audacious
marauders are now on the road to repeat the offence, numbering
many thousands, well mounted and armed ; and to oppose these
white barbarians it behoves us to make every preparation of
defence."* "There is no cause for alarm," answered the Andaluz. "I
(tapping his breast) have served in three wars ; in that glorious
one ' de la Independencia,' when our glorious patriots drove the
French like sheep across the Pyrenees ; in that equally glorious
one of 1821 ; and in the late magnanimous struggle for the legiti
mate rights of his majesty Charles V., king of Spain (doffing his
hat), whom God preserve. With that right arm, " cried the
spirited Don, extending his shriveled member, " I have supported
* From the report to the Governor of California by the Head of the Mission,
in reference to the attacks by tbe American Monntoineers.

40 THE MOUNTAINEERS AND THE CALIFORNIANS.

the throne of my kings — have fought for my country, mowing
down its enemies before me; and with it," vehemently exclaimed
the Gachupin, working himself into a perfect frenzy, " I will slay
these Norte Americanos, should they dare to show their faces
in my front. Adios, Don Augustin Ignacio Sabanal-Morales-y
Fuentes," he cried, doffing his hat with an earth-sweeping bow;
" I go to grind my sword. Till then, adieu !"
" A countryman of mine !" said the frayle, admiringly, to the
administrador. " With him by our side we need not to fear ;
neither Norte Americanos, nor the devil himself, can harm us
when he is by."
While the Trueba sharpens his Tizona, and the priest puffs
volumes of smoke from his nose and mouth, let us introduce to
the reader one of the muchachitas, who knelt grinding corn on
the metate, to make tortillas for the evening meal. Juanita was
a stout wench from Sonora, of Mexican blood, hardly as dark as
the other women who surrounded her, and with a drop or two of
the old Spanish blood struggling with the darker Indian tint to
color her plump cheeks. An enagua (a short petticoat) of red
serge was confined round her waist by a gay band ornamented
with beads, and a chemisette covered the upper part of the body,
permitting, however, a prodigal display of her charms. While
pounding sturdily at the corn, she laughed and joked with her
fellow-laborers upon the anticipated American attack, which ap
peared to have but few terrors for her. " Que vengan," she ex
claimed, " let them come ; they are only men, and will not molest
us women. Besides, I have seen these white men before — in my
own country, and they are fine fellows, very tall, and as white as
the snow on the sierras. Let them come, say I !"
" Only hear the girl !" cried another; " if these savages come,
then will they kill Pedrillo, and what will Juanita say to lose her
sweetheart ?"
"Pedrillo!" sneered the latter; "what care I for Pedrillo?
Soy Mejicana, yo — a Mexican girl am I, I'd have you know,
and don't demean me to look at a wild Indian. Not I, indeed,
by my salvation ! What I say, is, let the Norte Americanos

I r

f .

t

-¦^

'M-

JJ
mi\r
THE MOUNTAINEERS AND THE CALIFORNIANS. 41

come.' ' At this juncture Fray Augustin called for a glass of aguar
diente, which Juanita was dispatched to bring, and on presenting
it, the churchman facetiously inquired why she wished for the
Americans, adding, "Don't think they'll come here — no, no; here
we are brave men, and have Don Antonio with us, a noble fellow,
well used to arms." As the words were on his lips, the clatter
ing of a horse's hoofs was heard rattling across the loose stones
and pebbles in the bed of the river, and presently an Indian
herder galloped up to the door of the Mission, his horse covered
with foam, and its sides bleeding from spur-wounds.
" Oh, padre mio !" he cried, as soon as he caught sight of his
reverence, "vienen los Americanos — the Americans, the Ameri
cans are upon us. Ave Maria purissima ! — more than ten thou
sand are at my heels !"
Up started the priest, and shouted for the Don.
That hidalgo presently appeared, armed with the sword that
had graced his thigh in so many glorious encounters — the sword
with which he had mowed down the enemies of his country, and
by whose aid he now proposed to annihilate the American savages,
should they dare to appear before him.
The alarm was instantly given ; peones, vaqueros hurried from
the plains; and milpas, warned by the deep-toned bell, which
soon rung out its sonorous alarum. A score of mounted Indians,
armed with gun and lasso, dashed off to bring intelligence of the
enemy. The old gingall on the roof was crammed with powder
aud bullets to the very muzzle, by the frayle's own hand. Arms
were brought and piled in the sala, ready for use. The padre
exhorted, the women screamed, the men grew pale and nervous,
and thronged within the walls. Don Antonio, the fiery Andaluz,
alone remained outside, flourishing his whetted saber, and roaring
to the padre, who stood on the roof with lighted match, by the
side of his formidable cannon, not to be affrighted. " That he,
the Trueba was there with his Tizona, ready to defeat the devil
himself should he come on."
He was deaf to the entreaties of the priest to enter.
4*

42 THE MOUNTAINEERS AND THE CALIFORNIANS.

"Siempre en el frente: — Ever in the van," he said, "was the
war cry of the Truebas."
But now a cloud of dust was seen approaching from the plain,
and presently a score of horsemen dashed headlong toward the
Mission. " El enemigo," shouted Fray Augustin ; and without
waiting to aim, he clapped his match to the touch-hole of the
gun, harmlessly pointed to the sky, and crying out " In el nombre
de Dios" — in God's name — as he did so, was instantly knocked
over and over by the recoil of the piece, then was as instantly
seized by some of the Indian garrison, and forced through the
trap-door into the building ; while the horsemen (who were his
own scouts) galloped up with the intelligence that the enemy was
at hand, and in overwhelming force.
Thereupon the men were all mounted, and formed in a body
before the building, to the amount of more than fifty, well armed
with guns or bows and arrows. Here the gallant Don harangued
them, and infusing into their hearts a little of his own courage,
they eagerly demanded to be led against the enemy. Fray Au
gustin re-appeared on the roof, gave them his blessing, advised
them to give no quarter, and with slight misgivings, saw them
ride off to the conflict.
About a mile from the Mission, the plain gradually ascended
to a ridge of moderate elevation, on which was a growth of dwarf
oak and ilex. To this point the eyes of the remaining inmates of
the convent were earnestly directed as here the enemy was first
expected to make his appearance. Presently a few figures were
seen to crown the ridge, clearly defined against the clear evening
sky. Not more than a dozen mounted men composed this party,
which all imagined must be doubtless the vanguard of the thou
sand invaders. On the summit of the ridge they halted a few
minutes, as if to reconnoiter ; and by this time the Californian
horsemen were halted in the plain, midway between the Mission
and the ridge, and distant from the former less than half-a-mile,
so that all the operations were clearly visible to the lookers on.
The enemy wound slowly, in Indian file, down the broken
ground of the descent ; but when the plain was reached, they

THE MOUNTAINEERS AND THE CALIFORNIANS. 43

formed into something like a line, ai^ trotted fearlessly toward
the Californians. These began to sit uneasily in their saddles ;
nevertheless they made a forward movement, and even broke into
a gallop, but soon halted, and again huddled together. Then tho
mountaineers quickened their pace, and their loud shout was heard
as they dashed into the middle of the faltering troop. The sharp
cracks of the rifles followed, and the duller reports of the smooth-
bored pieces of the Californians, flying like mad across the level.
The little steady line of the mountaineers advanced, and puffs of
smoke arose, as they loaded and discharged their rifles at the flying
horsemen. As the Americans came on, however, one was seen
to totter in his saddle, the rifle fell from his grasp, and he tumbled
headlong to the ground. For an instant his companions sur
rounded the fallen man, but again forming, dashed toward the
Mission, shouting fierce war-whoops, and brandishing aloft their
long and heavy rifles. Of the defeated Californians some jumped
off their horses at the door of the Mission, and sought shelter
within; others galloped off toward the sierra in panic-stricken
flight. Before the gate, however, still paced valiantly the proud
hidalgo, encumbered with his cloak, and waving with difficulty
his sword above his head. To the priest and women, who implored
him to enter, he replied with cries of defiance, "Viva Carlos
Quinto," and, "Death or glory." He shouted in vain to the
flying crowd to halt ; but, seeing their panic was beyond hope, he
clutched his weapon more firmly as the Americans dashed at him,
closed his teeth and his eyes, thought once of the vega of his
beloved Genii, and of Granada la Florida, and gave himself up
for lost. Those inside the mission, when they observed the flight
of their cavalry, gave up the defence as hopeless; and already the
charging mountaineers were almost under the walls, when they
observed the curious figure of the little Don making demonstra
tions of hostility.
" Wagh !" exclaimed the leading hunter, " here's a little crittur
as means to do all the fighting ;" and seizing his rifle by the
barrel he poked at the Don with the butt-end, who parried the
blow, and with such a sturdy stroke, as nearly severed the stock

44 THE MOUNTAINEERS AND THE CALIFORNIANS.

in two. Another mountaineer rode up, and swinging his lasso
overhead, threw the noose dexterously over the Spaniard's head,
and as it fell over his shoulders, drew it taut, thus securing the
arms of the pugnacious Don as in a vice.
" Quartei !" cried the latter ; " por Dios, quartei !"
" Quarter be d — 1" exclaimed one of the whites, who under
stood Spanish ; " who's a-goin to hurt you, you little crittur ?"
By this time Fray Augustin was waving a white flag from the
roof, in token of surrender ; and soon after he appeared trembling
at the door, beseeching the victors to be merciful and to spare the
lives of the vanquished, when all and every thing in the Mission
would be freely placed at their disposal.
" What does the niggur say ?" asked old Walker, the leader
of the mountaineers, of the interpreter.
" Well, he talks so queer,, this hos can't rightly make it out."
" Tell the old coon then to quit that, and make them darned
greasers clear out of the lodge, and pock some corn and shucks
here for the animals, for they're nigh give out."
This being conveyed to him in mountain Spanish, which fear
alone made him understand, the padre gave orders to the men to
leave the Mission, advising them moreover, not to recommence
hostilities, as himself was kept as hostage, and if a finger was
lifted against the mountaineers, he would be killed at once, and
the Mission burned to the ground. Once inside, the hunters had
no fear of attack, they eould have kept the building against all
California; so, leaving a guard of two outside the gate, and taking
up one of the party who had been severely wounded, they entered,
made themselves at home, and soon were paying attention to the
hot tortillas, meat, and chile Colorado, which were "quickly placed
before them, washing down the hot-spiced viands with deep-
draughts of wine and brandy. It would have been amusing to
have seen the faces of these rough fellows as they gravely pledged
each other in the grateful liquor, and looked askance at the piles
of fruit served by the attendant Hebes. These came in for no
little share of attention, it may be imagined ; but the utmost re
spect was paid to them, for your mountaineer, rough and bear-

A MOUNTAINEER.

THE MOUNTAINEERS AND THE CALIFORNIANS. 47

like though he be, never by word or deed, offends the modesty of
a woman, although sometimes obliged to use a compulsory wooing,
when time is not allowed for regular courtship, and not unfre
quently known to jerk a New Mexican or Californian beauty be
hind his saddle, should the obdurate parents refuse consent to
their immediate union. It tickled the Americans not a little to
have all their wants supplied, and to be thus waited upon, by
what they considered the houris of paradise ; and after their long
journey, and the many hardships and privations they had suffered,
their present luxurious situation seemed scarcely real.
The hidalgo, released from the durance vile of the lasso, assisted
at the entertainment ; his sense of what was due to the " sangre
regular" which ran in his veins being appeased by the fact, that
he sat above the wild, uncnjifh mountaineers, these preferring to
squat crosslegged on the floor in their own fashion, to the uncom
fortable and novel luxury of a chair. Walker, indeed, seemed to
have quite forgotten the use of such pieces of furniture. On
Fray Augustin offering him one, and begging him, with many
protestations, to be seated, that old mountain worthy looked at
it, at the padre, turned it round, and at length comprehending
the intention, essayed to sit. This he effected at last, and sat
irimly for some moments, when seizing the chair by the back, he
hurled it out of the open door, exclaiming — " Wagh ! this coon
aint hamshot anyhow, and don't want such fixins, he don't;" and
gathering his legs under his body, reclined in the manner cus
tomary to him. There was a prodigious quantity of liquor con
sumed that night, the hunters making up for their many banyans;
but as it was the pure juice of the grape, it had little or no effect
upon their hard heads. They had not much to fear from attacks
on the part of the Californians ; but, to provide against all emer
gencies, the padre and the Gachupin were " hobbled," and con
fined in an inner room, to which there was no ingress nor egress
save through the door which opened into the apartment where
the mountaineers lay sleeping, two of the number keeping watch.
A fendango with the Indian girls had been proposed by some of
them, but Walker placed a decided veto on this. He said "they

48 THE MOUNTAINEERS AND THE CALIFORNIANS.

nad need of sleep now, for there was no knowing what to-morrow
might bring forth; that they had a long journey before them, and
winter was coming on; they would have to ' streak' it night and
day, and sleep when their journey was over, which would not be
until Pike's Peak was left behind them. It was now October,
and the way they'd have to hump it back to the mountains would
take the gristle off a painter's tail."
Young Ned Wooton was not to the fore when the roll was
called. He was courting the Sonora wench, Juanita, and to some
purpose ; for we may at once observe, that the maiden accompa
nied the mountaineer to his distant home, and at the present mo
ment is sharing his lodge on Hard-scrabble creek of the upper
Arkansas, having been duly and legally married by Fray Augus
tin before their departure.
But now the snow on the ridge of the Sierra Madre, and the
nightly frosts ; the angular flights of geese and ducks constantly
passing overhead; the sober tints of the foliage, and the dead
leaves that strew the ground ; the withering grass on the plain,
and the cold gusts, sometimes laden with snow and sleet, that
sweep from the distant snow-clad mountains; all these signs
warn us to linger no longer in the tempting valley of San Fer
nando, but at once to pack our mules to cross the dreary and
desert plains and inhospitable sierras; and to seek with our booty
one of the sheltered bayous of the Rocky Mountains.
On the third day after their arrival, behold our mountaineers
again upon the march, driving before them — with the assistance
of half a dozen Indians, impressed for the first few days of the
journey until the cavallada get accustomed to travel without con
fusion — a band of four hundred head of mules and horses, them
selves mounted on the strongest and fleetest they could select
from at least a thousand.
Fray Augustin and the Hidalgo, from the house-top, watched
them depart ; the former glad to get rid of such unscrupulous
guests at any cost, the latter rather loth to part with his boon
companions, with whom he had quaffed many a quartillo of Cali
fornian wine. Great was the grief, and violent the sobbing, when

THE MOUNTAINEERS AND THE CALIFORNIANS. 49

all the girls in the Mission surrounded Juanita to bid her adieu;
as she, seated en cavalier on an easy pacing mule, bequeathed
her late companions to the keeping of every saint in the calendar,
and particularly to the great St. Ferdinand himself, under whose
especial tutelage all those in the Mission were supposed to live.
Pedrillo, poor forsaken Pedrillo, a sullen, sulky half-breed, was
overcome, not with grief, but with anger at the slight put upon
him, and vowed revenge. He of the " sangre regular," having
not a particle of enmity in his heart, waved his arm — that arm
with which he had mowed down the enemies of Carlos Quinto —
and requested the mountaineers, if ever fate should carry them to
Spain, not to fail to visit his quinta in the vega of Genii, whioh,
with all in it, he placed at their worships' disposal — con muchis-
sima franqueza.
Fat Fray Augustin likewise waved his arm, but groaned in
spirit as he beheld the noble band of mules and horses, throwing
back clouds of dust on the plain where they had been bred. One
noble roan stallion seemed averse to leave his accustomed pasture,
and again and again broke away from the band. Luckily old
Walker had taken the precaution to secure the hell-mare of the
herd, and mounted on her rode ahead, the animals all following
their well-known leader. As the roan galloped back, the. padre
was in ecstasy. It was a favorite steed, and one he would have'
gladly ransomed at any price.
" Ya viene, ya viene !" he cried out, " now, now it's coming !
hurra for "the roan !" but, under the rifle of a mountaineer, one of
the Californians dashed at it, a lasso whirling round his head, and
turning and twisting like a doubling hare, as the horse tried to
avoid him, at last threw the open coil over the animal's head, and
led him back in triumph to the band.
" Maldito sea aquel Indio — curse that Indian !" quoth the
padre, and turned away.
And now our sturdy band — less one who had gone under—
were fairly on their way. They passed the body of their comrade
who had been killed in the fight before the Mission ; the wolves,
«r Indian dogs, had picked it to the bones ; but a mound near
5

50 THE MOUNTAINEERS AND THE CALIFORNIANS.

by surmounted by a rude cross, showed where the Californianis
(seven of whom were killed) had been interred — the pile of stones
at the foot of the cross testifying that many an ave Maria had
already been said by the poor Indians, to save the souls of their
slaughtered companions from the pangs of purgatory. Euxton't
Life in the Far West.

A MEXICAN INN.

DANIEL BOONE.

The spring of 1769 rose calmly over the broad woodlands which
lay immediately beyond the mountains to the west of Virginia.
It was a beauteous wilderness, known as yet only to the red Indian,
but abounding in game and wild fruits, and whatever can form a
temptation to man seeking for a residence. At that time there lived
in Yadkin valley, in North Carolina, a hardy peasant of about thir
ty-seven years of age, a native of the county of Somerset in Eng
land, but long naturalized to America, and now married, with a fa
mily of several children. A born hunter Daniel was, and fond of
nothing but hunting — a man who preferred to roam the moun
tain, and sleep in a cavern, or camp by a rushing spring, to the
dull farm life and the home fire-side. We say he was a born
hunter ; he possessed the instinct of the bee, and could go to his
own dwelling in a bee-line from any point to whioh his wander
ings might carry him. Fatigue, hunger, and exposure, he could
bear like any Indian. Strong, but light, active as a deer, cour
ageous, but cautious, kind, silent, thoughtful, he was the very
(51)

52 DANIEL BOONE.

man to act the part of pioneer. Two years before the above date,
a man named Finlay had gone afar in the land of the red man
upon a mercantile expedition. Him Daniel sought out, and
learned that of a truth there was a country to the north-west
where buffalo swarmed like files in summer, and where the wild
turkey and the deer were scarce worth wasting powder upon. He
meditated and dreamed upon it for a year, talked with his wife
about it, who endeavored to drive it from his mind ; and finally,
tightening his belt, and putting a new edge upon his knife, he
shouldered his rifle, bade his little family good-by, and, in company
with five comrades, started in quest of the country of Kentucky.
Finlay led the way. For five weeks did the little band toil on
and on through hill and valley, gushing stream and tangled
woods, enduring all the inclemency of the elements, tUl at length
they came to the Red river, a branch of the Kentucky. For
months they hunted with success ; but at length, in December,
Boone and one of his companions fell into the hands of the Indians,
from whom they only escaped by stratagem. On returning to their
camp, they found it deserted by the rest. Determined to perse
vere, they remained in it, using great precautions against the
hostile Indians ; until Squire, a brother of Boone, joined him
with another man, and entered upon the same kind of life. A
few months after, by the death of one man, and the desertion of
another, the two Boonos were left alone; and thus they continued
to be for several months, when Squire was compelled to return
to the settlements for a supply of ammunition, and Daniel was
left without a dog for company — the sole white man in all tha*
vast region.
It is impossible for men who have grown up in our tame civi
lization to enter into the feelings of one so situated. Many hun
dred miles from all to whom he could look for aid; in a boundless
wuod, tillod with subtle and cruel enemies; dependent upon his
gun, yet with a scanty store of ammunition; without a comrade,
or the hope of one — and still contented and cheerful, nay, very
happy. Every day he changed his position ; every night he slept
in a different place from the one he had occupied the night before;

SIMON KENTON.

1". S5.'

DANIEL BOONE. 53

constantly in danger, he was forced to be constantly on Ms guard;
but freedom, the love of nature, the excitement of peril, and the
pleasures of the chase, appear to have repaid him for all his trials,
toils, and watchfulness. One circumstance, which helps us to
explain Boone's security while among the bands of roalming
savages, and as we should suppose, in hourly dread of losing his
life, was this : the forests of Kentucky, at that early period, were
filled with a species of nettle, whieh, being once trodden on, re
tained for a long time the impression of the foot, even a turkey
might with ease be tracked in it This weed the Indians, numer
ous and fearless, took no pains to avoid, while the solitary hunter
never touched it ; it thus became to him a sure and easy means
of knowing the presence, position, and numbers of his enemies,
without betraying his own whereabouts. There is an anecdote
of Boone, referrible to a different period, which gives a striking
idea of such a stealthy life as he now led. He had approached
the Lickiag river from the west, at the same time that another
adventurer, Simon Kenton, had reached the borders of the valley
from the east. Each paused to reconnoitre, before he left the
covert of the woods ; and each ascertained the presence of another
human being in the neighborhood. Then commenced a process
on the part of each for learning who the other was, without re
vealing himself; and such was their mutually baffling power of
concealment, that forty-eight hours passed before either eould
satisfy himself that the other was not an Indian, and a foe i
Squire Boone returned at the end of June, (1770,) and the
two brothers continued to hunt together. Meanwhile a band
called the Lang Hunters, led by Captain James Knox, entered
the territory on the south, and spent some time in it; but Boone
knew nothing of their proceedings. He and his brother remained
about the vale of the Kentucky till the ensuing March, and then
returned home, in order to bring more settlers, including Daniel's
family. In the autumn, Boone was passing again into Kentucky, with
five families besides his own, and forty other men, when, upon
the 10th of October, unlooked-for as thunder from a clear sky, a
5*

54 DANIEL BOONE.

band of Indians poured upon the rear of the little emigrant army
a deadly fite. Women shrieked, children squalled, the cattle
broke and ran, horses reared and plunged, the young men drew
their rifles to their shoulders, and the old " treed" instantly. A
few moments decided the matter : the whites were victors ; but
six dead men, and one badly wounded, gave them an idea of the
nature of frontier life. Among the dead was Daniel's eldest son.
The party retreated, and Boone spent another year in inactivity.
During this time land-speculators and surveyors poured into the
land of Kentucky, and roused the hostility of the Indians to a
high pitch. A party of eight hundred of them were only saved
from destruction by Boone's undertaking, at the request of the
governor of Virginia, (the Earl of Duninore,) to bring them off;
in which duty he was perfectly successful.
The contention between the colonists and the mother country
was now coming to a head ; and it was in the midst of terrors,
inspired by the policy pf the British in employing the Indians as
allies, that the colonization of Kentucky took place. James
Harrod was the first to build a house in that region ; this was in
1774. Then one Richard Henderson, a Carolinian, by Boone's
assistance, made a treaty with the Cherokees for certain lands
lying between the Kentucky and Cumberland Rivers, where it
was proposed to establish a colony. The ground had still to be
fought for with other tribes ; but in spite of all obstacles, a fort
of block-houses and cabins was planted in the summer of 1775,
at Boonesborough — ^the pioneer working with his axe in one hand
and his rifle in the other. A sort of legislative council made laws
for the new settlement, which was regarded as an off-shoot from
the state of Virginia.
Boone then returned to his family, which, with three others,
he brought into Kentucky in September. The four women of
this party — Mrs. Boone, Mrs. M'Garry, Mrs. Denton, and Mrs.
Hogan — were the first of white complexion who entered the
country — the " mothers of the west." The war just then break
ing out, and all the horrors of Indian hostility impending, the
heroism of these women deserves especial honor.

SHATTANEE CHIEF.

P. 55.

DANIEL BOONE. 55

It soon became necessary to keep a careful watch upon the
movements of the Indians. All along the border the impression
gained strength that savages, instigated and backed by the
British, would suddenly swoop down and lay all waste. The
hated race of "cabiners," those speculators who came out to
obtain a preemption right by building a cabin and planting a
crop ; the wretched traders who were always wandering about the
frontier ; the hunters, who were revelling among the countless
herds of game, now for the first time seen — all began, during the
winter and spring of 1776, to draw closer to the stations.
And within these stations men sat round the fire with loaded
rifles, and told their tales of adventure and peril with new interest,
as every sound reminded them how near their deadly enemies
might be. And from hour to hour scouts came in with rumors
of natives seen here and there; and parties of the bold rangers
tightened their belts, and left the protection of their forts, to learn
the truth of these alarms. But there was one who sat at such
times silent, and seemingly unheeding, darning his hunting-shirt,
or mending his leggins, or preparing his rifle-balls for use ; and
yet to him all eyes often turned. Two or three together, the
other hunters started by day-light to reconnoitre; silently he sat
working until nightfall. Then noiselessly he went : none saw
bim . go. But when they observed him gone, they would say,
" Now we shall know something sure, for old Daniel's on the
track." And when, by and bye, some one yet wakeful saw the
shadow of Boone, as he reentered the cabin, he found, as usual,
that the solitary scout had learned all that was to be known, and
the watchful slept in peace.
In July the storm broke upon the poor colonists, most of whom
fled before the wrath of the Shawanese and Cherokees, leaving
only a few determined little bands in the forts. It was a terrible
time; yet Daniel Boone was never dismayed. One day his
daughter and' two other young girls were amusing themselves in
a skiff on the Kentucky, while several of the male settlers looked
on. Suddenly they felt the boat taking a direction for the oppo-
site shore. A lurking Indian had swam in, and caught hold of

56 DANIEL BOONE.

it, and the poor children quickly found themselves prisoners
amongst a band who had posted themselves in a little thicket
close to the river. The settlers heard their scream as they were
caught. and hurried off. It was some time before Boone, and a
little party of friends, could cross to commence a pursuit, so. that
the Indians got the start for several miles. At daybreak he re
covered their trail, but soon lost it again in a thick wood, to pene
trate which would have sadly impeded him. Life and death,
freedom or captivity, hung upon the right use of every moment.
Boone was not long at a loss ; turning southward with his com
panions, so as to leave the track upon his left, having carefully
observed its general direction, and feeling sure that the captors
would take their prisoners to the Indian towns upon either the
Scioto or Miami, he boldly struck forward, and travelled with all
speed thirty miles or more ; then turning at right angles towards
the north, he looked narrowly for marks of the passage of the
marauders. It was a bold and keen device, and the event proved
it a sagacious one ; for, after going a few miles they came upon
the Indian trail in one of the great buffalo paths. Inspirited with
new hope and strength, the whites pushed forward quickly, but
quietly, and on the alert, lest unexpectedly they might come upon
the red men. And well was it that they used great caution ; for
when, after going ten miles, they at length caught sight of the
natives as they were leisurely, and half-stripped, preparing their
dinner, the quick-eyed sons of the forest saw them as soon as they
were themselves discovered. Boone had feared that, if their ap
proach was known, the girls would be killed instantly, and he
was prepared for instant action. So soon, therefore, as the savages
were seen, he and his companions fired, and then the whole body
rushed forward so suddenly, as to cause their opponents to take
to their heels, without waiting for scalps, guns, knives, moccas-
sins, or blankets ; and the three terrified girls were recovered
unhurt. For two years the gallant Kentuokians maintained their posts
amidst incredible hardships and dangers. It became difficult to
supply themselves with food, as there was hardly any safety for

¦*» i~

1 "¦>
I.

«. - - ''\ J *?

II

wij^^-^-^^ ^^^^__

CAPTURE OF DANIEL BOONE.

P. sr.

DANIEL BOONE. 57

cattle; and in hunting, men were frequently cut off by the prow
ling enemy. One day, as the women of Logan's fort were milking
the cows, attended by a guard of men, the Indians made a sudden
attack, and killed several persons. Such incidents were very
harassing. The commander of this fort, after being beleaguered
by the savages for some weeks, found himself running short of
powder and shot, so thdt unless relief should come soon, it seemed
inevitable that they should have to surrender. The required
ammunition could only be got two hundred miles off, across a wild
and mountainous country. Yet he resolved to make the attempt ;
and he succeeded. Over mountain and vale, through tangled
wood and brake, this man sped his way with two companions, and
on the tenth day he was once more within the fort. It is pleasant
to know that the party was thus able to hold out till relieved.
At the beginning of 1778 there were but three stations left,
containing in all a hundred and ten men ; but the Indians had
been baffled, and forced to retire behind the Ohio ; so that a small
breathing-time was afforded to the settlers. At this time Boone
was compelled to go, with thirty men, to the Blue Licks^n order
to prepare salt for the use of his people. He bad succeeded so
far in his object, when a band of Indians fell upon him as he was
hunting singly in the woods. He fled, but was soon overtaken,
and made prisoner. His companions, obeying gestures made by
him at a distance, surrendered, and the whole party was then march
ed off to a British post, where several officers interceded for the ran
som of Boone, but without success, for the chief had taken a fancy
to him, and determined to make him one of themselves. Boone was
actually obliged, for some months, to act the part of a Shawanese
Indian, and to affect a reconciliation to their habits. He was
made a son in some family, and caressed by father and mother,
brothers and sisters, till he was thoroughly sick of them. Yet,
to appearance, he was cheerful and happy. Ho took his part in
their games aind romps ; shot as near the centre of the target as
a good hunter ought to do, and yet left the savage marksmen a
chance to excel him; and smiled, in his quiet eye, when he
witnessed their joy at having done better than the best of the

58 DANIEL BOONE.

Long Knives. He grew into favor with the chief, was trusted,
treated with respect, and listened to with attention. After some
months of captivity, he was called upon to accompany a salt-
making party to Chillicothe ; there he saw a body of 450 painted
warriors, whom he guessed to be on their way to Boonesborough,
to make final work of it. Could he do nothing to save his family
and friends ? It was 160 miles of wild country to Boonesborough,
and not a friend by the way. Yet it was necessary he should
try. So, on the morning of the 16th of June, he stole away
without any breakfast, leaving an Indian father and mother in
consolable for his loss. Over hill and valley he sped, for four
successive days, forty miles a day, eating but one meal all the
way. Such power there is in the human frame of withstanding
all fatigue and hunger when the soul is alive and strong within us.
He reached Boonesborough — and where was his wife ? Why
did she not rush to meet him ? " Bless your soul," said his old
companions, as they hailed him like one risen from the dead, and
shook his hand till it tingled, " she put into the settlements long
ago ; sh® thought you was dead, Daniel, and packed up, and was
off to Carolina, to the old man's." There was no time for regrets,
for the Indians were expected. Days, however, passed without
showing them ; and it was then ascertained that they were brought
to a stand by his flight, believing that he must have given warn
ing of their approach. Some weeks after, learning that the
country was clear of the Indians, he started with a party of nine
teen for the town on Paint Creek, intending probably to make
some kind of reprisals. But this had nearly proved a fatal step,
^for, by the way, he suddenly popped upon an Indian party going
in the contrary direction. Judging from this circumstance that
a larger body must be on its way to attack the settlements, he
immediately turned back ; and it was well he did so just then,
as he only got back a day before the Indians and British appear
ed in strength at Boonesborough.
It was on the Sth of August that, with British and French
flags flying, the dusky army gathered round the little fortress
of logs, defended by its inconsiderable garrison. Captain Du-

GEORGE ROGERS CLARKE.

P. 60.

DANIEL BOONE. 59

D[uesne, on behalf of his majesty King George III., summoned
Captain Boone to surrender. It was, as Daniel had acknowledged
in his journal, a critical period for him and his friends. Should
they yield, what mercy could they look for ? and he especially,
after his unkind flight from his Shawanese parents ? Should
they refuse to yield, what hope of successful resistance ? And
they had so much need of all their cattle to aid them in sustaining a
siege, and yet their cows were abroad in the woods. Daniel pon
dered the matter, and concluded it would be safe, at any rate^ to
a!3k two days for consideration. It was granted, and he drove in
his cows! The evening of the 9th soon arrived, however, and
he must say one thing or another; so he politely thanked the
representative of his gracious majesty for giving the garrison
time to prepare for their defence, and announced their determi
nation to fight. The British officers professed so much apparently
sincere regret for this resolution, that Daniel was induced, after
all, to eome to a negotiation. It was to take place immediately
beyond the walls of the fort, between nine of the garrison and a
party of the enemy. To guard against treachery, the sharpest
shooters stood upon the walls, ready to defend their friends. The
treaty was made and signed ; and then the Indians, saying it was
their custom for two of them to shake hands with every white man
when a treaty was made, expressed a wish to press the palms of
their new allies. Boone and his comrades must have looked
rather queer at this proposal ; but it seemed safer to accede than
to refuse ; so they presented each his hand. As anticipated, the
warriors seized them with rough. and fierce eagerness; the whites
drew back struggling ; the treachery was apparent. The rifle-
balls from the garrison struck down the foremost of the assailants
of the little band ; and, amid a fire from friends and foes, Boone
and his fellow-deputies bounded back into the station, with the
exception of one, unhurt.
The treaty-trick having thus failed, Captain Duquesne had to
look to more ordinary modes of warfare; and opened a fire,
which lasted ten days ; though to no purpose, for the woodsmen
were determined not to yield. On the 20th of August the In-

60

DANIEL BOONE.

dians were forced unwillingly to retire, having lost thirty-seven
of their number, and wasted a vast amount of powder and lead.
The garrison picked up from the ground, after their departure,
one hundred and twenty-five pounds of their bullets.
It was amidst such scenes that the foundation of the state of
Kentucky was laid, by a mere handful of rough, but high-spirited
men. The year '78 was the crisis of its fate. But for the stand
then made, it would probably have been no part of the American
Union. Animated by the reports of the courage pf the
first settlers, multitudes now poured in, and soon placed it
beyond all danger. In the ensuing events, the conspicuous man
was George Rogers Clark, who took the British governor, Hamil
ton, prisoner at Vincennes. It is undoubted, however, that the
real hero of the settlement was he who had first entered upon it,
and who had stood by it through all its earliest and worst strug
gles — ^Daniel Boone, This remarkable man closed his career in
1818, having lived to see Kentucky one of the most flourishing
and populous states of the Union.

WHALING ADVENTURES.
The American spirit has found no more brilliant fields for the
display of hardihood and enterprise than whaling affords. The
dangers to be encountered in the pursuit are recommendations
rather than objections in the eyes of the bold and persevering
seamen of New England. Long ago were the deeds of these men
eulogized in one of the glorious speeches of Edmund Burke, which
all must have read and admired ; and since the period when they
called forth such praise, there has been no falling off in the charac
ter, while there has been a great increase in the extent of their ex
ploits. New Bedford, Nantucket, New London, and Sag Harbor
yearly send forth many ships for the prosecution of this profitable
business. /
At those ports strange scenes occur, belonging exclusively to
America. There the Yankee tar may be seen in his full perfec
tion ; with long and wiry limbs, hard features, keen eyes, nasal
voice, and yarns that stretch to the " crack of doom." The Pa
cific is the destination of most of the vessels that sail from the
New England ports. But many go to search for the valuable
Greenland whale in the North Atlantic. The voyages frequently
last three or four years — a long time for men to be absent from
6 (61)

62 WHALING ADVENTURES.

their native land, and from their families and friends. Yet the
number of persons engaged in the fishery shows that it possesses
charms other than those of pecuniary profit. Its very perils —
and they are numerous — cause many to join in it. They seek
adventure as they seek food, and to be without some daring and
difficult exploit or " hair-breadth 'scape," which may form the
burden of a brag, is to them a sore deprivation.
The whale is the largest of all known animals. Three varie
ties are distinguished ; the Greenland, called by the sailors the
right whale, as being most highly prized by them ; the great
northern rorqual, called by fishers the razor-back, or finner, and
the cachalot, or spermaceti whale. The common whale measures
from sixty to seventy feet in length ; the mouth when open, is
large enough to admit a ship's jolly boat, with all her men in it.
It contains no teeth ; and enormous as the creature is, the open
ing to the throat is very narrow, not more than one inch and a half
across in the largest whale. The food of the whale consists of
shrimps, small fishes, sea-snails and innumerable minute creatures,
called medusae, which are found in those seas where the whales
feed, in such vast quantities that they make the water of a deep
green or olive color. In swallowing these, the whale takes in a
great quantity of water, which passes back through the nostrils,
and is collected in a bag, placed at the external orifice of the
cavity of the nose, whence it is expelled by the pressure of pow
erful muscles through a very narrow opening in the top of the
head. In this way, it spouts the water in beautiful jets from
twenty to thirty feet in height. But enough information con
cerning the whale, the whale fishery, and the American whale-
fishermen will be found in the following interesting narratives, to
enable us to dispense with further description.
No finer ship than the Essex ever sailed upon a whaling voy
age. She belonged to Nantucket, in whose harbor many a noble
craft finds anchorage. But the Essex was considered a stouter
ship and a better sailer than any of her neighbors. She rode the
waves as if a favorite of the winds. Her Captain, George Pol
lard, was a fine specimen of the New England tar. His voyages

WHALING ADVENTURES. 63

had been many, and his experience was such as to entitle him to
be called " an old salt." Firm, determined, skilful, ready witted
and good-humored, he wa|^ equally desirable as a commander or
a companion. No one who had sailed under him had just cause
to complain of his severity, while most loved him as if he were a
provident father. Captain Pollard had a wife and daughter at
Nantucket, who mourned his absence during his long and distant
voyages ; and he had more than once resolved to abandon his
sea life and seek some other means of procuring comfort and in^
dependence for his family. Yet the resolution was not performed.
However, it was understood, that the captain was about to make
his last voyage.
In August, 1819, the Essex was prepared for sea. Her
whaling equipment was renewed, and a plentiful stock of provi
sions was shipped. Her crew consisted of 21 men, fourteen of
whom were whites, mostly belonging to Nantucket; the remain
der were blacks. She was destined for the Pacific. Every thing
being ready, Captain Pollard bade his weeping wife and daughter
an affectionate farewell, brushed the tear from his manly cheek,
stepped aboard of his vessel — ^his kingdom, and ordered his men
to weigh anchor. ¦ As the vessel was moving out, a violent storm
arose, and she was forced to put back. The Yankee sailors are
not very superstitious, but they have their notions of signs and
omens, and such an incident was not regarded as favorable. But
the storm soon passed, and once more the Essex set her bow sea
ward. As the houses of Nantucket were lessening in the dis
tance, and as the town assumed the appearance of a black line
upon the waves, Captain Pollard and the first mate, Owen Chase,
stood upon the deck in conversation. Owen, a long and hungry-
looking creature, as hard as the granite of his native New Hamp
shire, had observed the captain wearing an unusually solemn
countenance, and as he gazed intently at his fading home, biting
his lip to suppress his emotion.
" Nantucket 'U soon be jest any where but' in sight, Cap'n. It
'11 be a short spell afore we get it within range again," said the
mate, prying indirectly at the Captain's thoughts and feelings.

64 WHALING ADVENTURES.

" Yes Chase, a long time will elapse before we'll touch home
again. Confound it ! I don't know what has come over me. I
never felt so streaked and down in J;he mouth on leaving land
before." "Better take a glass of grog, Cap'n. Prehaps your sto
mach's out of order, and that makes you feel queerish," said the
mate. " Well, that may be the case," replied Pollard, unwilling to
let the mate into the real state of affairs. " That may be the
case. You must come and take a glass with me. But, I say,
did you ever take to mind what an unfortunate name for a ves
sel, this Essex is ? I don't think there ever was a lucky vessel
that bore it."
" Wull, now I come to think, there have been several vessels
that have been christened so, that have gone down. Some names
seem to have a hard fate always tied to them. But this is a
noble ship, and arter all's said and done, there's no rule on the
subject." " Just so," said the Captain, whatever he thought, and the
two descended to his cabin. We pass over the monotonous days
of the voyage which ensued. That monotony was unbroken
until the Essex arrived at the whaling ground. The sailors
laughed and joked, and spun yarns, and wormed themselves into
each other's secrets; and then, becoming tired, longed for new
faces and new scenes. In November of the next year, in latitude
0° 40' S., longitude 119° W., the crew had the gratification of
discovering a school of whales. The boats were instantly man
ned ; they were always equipped with lines, harpoons, &c., and
prepared for service. The Captain commanded in one boat ; the
first mate and the second mate controlled the movements of the
other two.
The experienced eye of the first mate soon detected a young
whale beside its dam. The whale shows great affection for her
young, which is called the calf. The fishermen well know this,
and turn it to their own account. They try to strike the young
with the strong barbed harpoon, and if they do this they are al-

WHALING ADVENTURES. 65

jure of securing the mother also, as nothing will induce her to
leave it. Boswell caused his men to row towards the calf, which
was about half the size of its monstrous mother; and when within
about fifty feet of it, he struck the harpoon into its back, forwards,
towards the fins. The first effort of the stricken fish was to es-
sape from the boat by sinking, its mother remaining alongside of
it. Down — down it went, taking the line with it at such a rapid
rate, that the side of the boat was several times on fire from the
friction. But the fish cannot remain long under water ; it was
forced to rise in about a quarter of an hour, and by that time,
the other two boats were in the vicinity. The mother rose about
the same time, and expressed her sympathy with the convulsive
throes of her calf, by striking the water with her fins and tail
with such tremendous force, that the sea was covered with foam,
and the boats were in great danger of being destroyed. In these
circumstances. Pollard and his men displayed great presence of
mind and daring courage. Three or four more harpoons were
thrown at the calf, lances pierced its vitals ; it spouted streams
of blood, and at length lay dead upon the water. The mother
now displayed her affection by swimming around it, rolling over
with it, and furiously striking around with her tail. She made
no attempt to escape, though the fatal harpoon was tlirown into
her body ; and after receiving many wounds from the persevering
foe, she died beside her offspring. The sea around was dyed
with blood, and covered with foam. The death of the game,
which was made evident by their lying still, and upon their
sides, was welcomed with loud hurrahs and striking of flags.
Every boat fast to a living whale carries a flag, and the ship to
which such boat belongs also wears a flag until the whale is either
killed or makes its escape. These signals serve to indicate to
surrounding ships the exclusive title of the " fast ship," to the
entangled whale, and to prevent their interference, except in the
way of assistance in the capture.
Both these whales were secured within forty minutes from the
time of the throwing of the first harpoon. The average length
»f time consumed in the capture of a whale may be stated
6*

66 WHALING ADVENTURES.

at an hour. But active and skillful fishermen, under favorable
circumstances will often secure their prey within one-half that
time. Our triumphant hunters of the sea had now to perform the
more laborious, though less dangerous part of their work. Two
holes were pierced in the tail of each, and a rope passed several
times through them was fastened to the bows of the boats of the
Captain and first mate. The difficult operation of freeing the
whales from the entanglement of the lines was then attempted.
As the whales lay on their sides, the lines and harpoons were
far under water. As they hung obliquely they were hooked up
with a grapnel, though not without considerable exertion, and
cut. While this was in progress, the men of the second mate's
boat employed themselves in fastening their boat to the bow of
the first mate's to aid in towing the large whale towards the
ship. Signals being made, the ship steered for the boats.
The fish being towed to the vessel, were taken to the larboard
side and arranged for flensing, as the operation of securing the
whalebone and blubber is called. The following account of the
arrangement and performance may not be uninteresting.
" Towards the stern of the ship, the head'of the fish is directed ,
and the tail, whioh is first cut off, sent abreast of the fore chains.
The smallest or posterior part of the whale's body, where the tail
is united, is called the rump, and the extremity or anterior part
of the head is drawn in an opposite direction by means of the
nose tackles. Hence, the body of the fish is forcibly extended.
The right-side fin, being next the ship is lashed upwards towards
the gunnel. A band of blubber, two or three feet in width, en
circling a fish's body, and lying between the fins and the head,
being the fat of the neck, or what corresponds to the neck in
other animals, is called the kent, because by means of it the fish
is turned over or kenied. In the commencement of this band of
fat or kent is fixed the lower extremity of a combination of pow
erful blocks, called the kent purchase. Its upper extremity is
fixed round the head of the main mast, and its fcdl or rope is ap
plied to the windlass, drawn tight, and the upper surface of the

¦WHALING ADVENTURES. . 67

fish rising several inches above the water. The enormous weight
of a whale prevents the possibility of raising it more than one
fourth, or one fifth part out of the water, except, indeed, when it
has been some days dead, in which case it swells in consequence
of air generated by putrefaction, until one third of its bulk, ap
pears above the surface ; the fish then lying belly upwards, ex
tended and well secured, is ready for the operation of flensing.
" After the whale is properly secured along side of th« ship, the
harpooners, having their feet armed with spurs, to prevent them
from slipping, descend upon the fish Two boats,, each of which
is under the guidance of one or two boys, attend upon them, and
serve to hold all their knives, and other apparatus. Thus pro
vided, the harpooners, directed by the specksioner,* divide the
fat into oblong pieces, or 'slips,' by means of 'blubber spades'
and ' blubber knives ;' then affixing a ' speck-tackle ' to each
slip, flay it progressively off, as it is drawn upwards. The speck-
tackles, which are two or three in number, are rendered effective
by capstern winches, or other mechanical powers. The flensers
commence with the belly and under jaw, being the only part then
above water. The blubber, in pieces of half a ton each, is re
ceived on deck, and divided into portable, cubical, or oblong
pieces, containing near a solid foot of fat, and passed down be
tween decks, when it is packed in a receptacle provided for it in
the bold, or other suitable place, called tho flens-gut, where it
remains until further convenience.
" All the fat being taken away from the belly, and the right fin
removed, the fish is then turned round on its side by means of
the kent, which, by the power of the windlass, readily performs
this office. The upper surface of fat is again removed, together
with the left fin, and after a second kenting, one of the ' lips ' is
taken away, by which the whalebone of one side of the head, now
lying nearly horizontal, is exposed. Th^ fish being a little
further turned, the whalebone of the left side is dislodged by the
* The same of this officer was introduced by the Butch, and is derived from
the word specie, which, in their language, is applied to the fat of the whale, as
well as to that of other animals.

68 WHALING ADVENTURES.

use of " bone hand-spikes," " bone knives," and " bone spades."
These constitute what are called " bone geer," and are used, with
the assistance of speck-tackles, for taking up the whalebone in
one mass. On its arrival on deck it is split with bone wedges
into 'junks,' containing five to ten blades each, and stowed away.
A further kenting brings the fish's back upward, and the next
exposes the second side of bone. As the fish is turned round,
every par-t of the blubber becomes successively- uppermost, and is
removed. At length, when the whole of the blubber, whalebone,
and jaw bones have been taken on board, the kent, which now
appears a slip of perhaps 30 feet in length, is also separated, to
gether with the rump rope, and nose tackle, on which the car
cass, being at liberty, generally sinks in the water and disap
pears .
" When sharks are present, they generally help themselves very
plentifully during the progress of the flensing; but they often
pay for their temerity with their lives. Fulmars pay close at
tendance in immense numbers. They seize the fragments occa
sionally disengaged by the knife, while they are swimming in
the water ; but most of the other gulls, who attend on the occa
sion, take their share on the wing. The burgomaster is decidedly
master of the feast. Hence every bird is obliged to relinquish
the most delicious morsel, when the burgomaster descends to
claim it.
" When despatch is seconded by ability, the operation of flensing
can be performed on a whale, affording 20 or 30 tons of blubber,
in the space of three or four hours. Flensing in a swell is a
most difficult and dangerous undertaking, and when the swell is
considerable, it is commonly impracticable. No ropes or blocks
are capable of bearing the jerk of the sea. The harpooners are
annoyed by the surge, and repeatedly drenched in water, and are
likewise subject, to be wounded by the breaking of ropes, or hooks,
or tackles, and even by strokes from each other's knives. Hence,
accidents in this kind of flensing are not uncommon. The har
pooners not unfrequently fall into the fish's mouth, when it is

WHALING ADVENTURES. 69

exposed by the removal of a surface of blubber; where they might
easily be drowned, but for prompt assistance."
Our fishermen performed the fiensing process with much good
humor and activity. The kreng, or carcass of the large whale
was out adrift, and the flensing of the young one was completed,
when a terrible accident occurred. |
Chase stood on one of the jaw bones of the fish, with a boat by
his side. In this situation, while he was in the act of cutting
the kreng adrift, a boy inadvertently stuck the point of the boat-
hook, by which he usually held the boat, through the ring of
Chase's spur, and in the same act seized the jaw bone of the fish
with the hook of the same instrument. Before this was disco
vered the kreng was set at liberty, and began instantly to sink.
The mate then threw himself towards the boat, but being firmly
entangled by the foot, he fell into the water. Providentially he
caught the gunwale of the boat with both hands ; but overpow
ered by the force of the sinking kreng, he was on the point of
relinquishing his grasp, when some of his companions got hold
of his hands while others threw a rope round his body. The
carcass of the fish was now suspended entirely by his body, which
was consequently so dreadfully extended, that there was some
danger of his being drawn asunder. But such was his terror of
being taken under water, that notwithstanding the excruciating
pain he suffered, he constantly cried to his companions to " haul
away the rope." He remained in this dreadful state until means
were adapted for hooking the kreng with a grapnel, and drawing
it back to the surface of the water.
Chase was not much injured by the immense strain which he
had endured. He received the congratulations of his companions
upon his escape.- Pollard expressed the opinion that he was
worth a dozen men yet.
The crew now set about " making off," the finishing process
of the fishery. While the line-managers £md a few others were
engaged in clearing out the hold, the rest of the crew on deck
arranged all the variety of apparatus used for the preparation of
the blubber before it is put into the casks. The " krengers "

70 WHALING ADVENTURES.

cleared it of the muscular and sinewy parts : the "skinners"
removed the skin ; the " choppers " cut the blubber into oblong
pieces, not exceeding four inches in diameter, and the men in the
hold, packed it in casks, which were arranged in tiers.
In the meantime, a good look out was kept from the " crow's
nest " in the maintop, for more game. '60 far the Essex had
been fortunate, and the gloom had passed from her captain'a
mind. A good lot of blubber was in the hold, and much profit
was promised. But a few days after, misfortune began to assert
her sway. The look-out ^ave the signal of a school of whales
being in sight. In pursuing them, the mate's boat was stove,
and he was forced to return to the ship to repair damages. The
captain and second mate were left with their boats pursuing the
whale. During this interval, the mate discovered a large spermaceti
whale near the ship, but not suspecting the approach of any danger,
since, as a general thing, these monsters of the deep are very
timid, it gave him no alarm until he saw the whale coming with
full speed towards the vessel. In a moment, the crew was aston
ished by a tremendous crash. The whale had struck the ship a
little in front of the fore-chains. It was some minutes before
the men recovered from their panic so far as to examine whether
any damage had been sustained. They then tried their pumps
and found that their ship was sinking. A signal was immedi
ately set for the boats. The whale now appeared again malcing
for the ship. Coming with astonishing swiftness, and with the
water foaming around him, he struck the vessel a second blow,
which nearly stove in her bows. There was now no hope of sav
ing the ship, and the only course to be pursued, was to be pre
pared to leave her with all possible haste. The crew collected a
few things, hove them into the boat and shoved off. The Essex
immediately fell upon one side and sunk to the water's edge.
When the other two boats arrived, such was their consternation
that for some time, not a word was spoken. The captain was
the first to speak the words of hope, and promising his men
safety would reward their determined efforts, he succeeded in

WHALING ADVENTURES. 71

getting them to work. They remained by the wreck two or
three days, in which time they cut away the masts, which caused
her to right a little. Holes were then cut in the deck, through
which the crew obtained about 600 pounds of bread, as much
water as they could take, and other articles which were likely to
be of use to them. They then bade the sinking Essex farewell.
The prospects of Captain Pollard and his men were as appalling
as can well be imagined. The nearest land was about 1000
miles to the windward of them. They were in open boats which
were also weak and leaky, with a very small pittance of bread
and water for the support of so many men during the time they
must be at sea. SaUs had been prepared for the boats before
leaving the ship, which proved of material benefit. Steering
southerly by the wind, they hoped to fall in with some ship, but
days passed and no ship appeared. After being in the boat 28
days, experiencing much suffering from gales, want of water, and
scant provisions, they reached Duncie's island, latitude 24° 40'
S. longitude 124° 40' W., where they were doomed to be disap
pointed, in not finding enough food for so large a company. The
boats were hauled on shore and repaired. Fortunately, a spring
of fresh water was discovered flowing out of a rock, at about
half ebb of the tide, from which the crew filled their kegs.
Three of the men chose to stay on the island, and take 'Jbheiv
chance for some vessel to take them off.
Leaving this island. Pollard ordered the boats to be steered
for Easter Island ; but they passed it far to the leeward. They
then steered for Juan Fernandez, which was about 2500
miles east by southeast of them. The death of Joy, the second
mate, a man of rather weak constitution, was a severe stroke,
and exciting terrible forebodings in the minds of all. His body
was launched into the deep. Soon after, the mate's boat parted
from the other two, and did not fall in with them afterwards.
The situation of the mate and his crew, became daily more
distressing. The weather was mostly calm, the sun scorching.
They were growing weaker and weaker for want of food, and yet
such was their distance from land, that they were obliged to lea-

72 WHALING ADVENTURES.

sen their allowance nearly one-half. On the 20th of January, a
black man died. Eight days after, the crew found that their
allowance, only one and a half ounces of bread per day to a
man would be exhausted in fourteen days ; and that this allow
ance was not enough to sustain life. They therefore determined
to extend the indulgence and take the consequences, whether
life or death. On the Sth of February, another of the crew
died. From this time to the 17th, their sufferings were
extreme. The look of despair had settled upon every face.
On the morning of that day, they were aroused from their
lethargy by the cheering cry of the steersman, " there's a
sail !" The boat was soon descried by the vessel, the brig In
dian, Captain Grosier, of London, whieh took them on board.
They were treated by the humane captain with all the care and
tenderness that their weak condition required. They were taken
to Valparaiso. The other boats made what progress the weak
condition of the men would permit, towards the island of Juan
Fernandez ; but contrary winds and calm weather, together with
the extreme "debility of the crew, prevented their making much
headway. On the 29th of January, the second mate's boat
parted from the Captain's in the night, at which time, their pro
visions were totally exhausted. The crew of that boat were
never heard from afterwards. Captain Pollard and Charles
Ramsdell, the only survivors in the Captain's boat, were taken
up on the 23rd of February, 1821, bythe ship Dauphin, of Nan
tucket, Captain Zimri Coffin. They were both nearly exhausted,
though men of iron frames. The three men left on Duncie's
Island were taken off after they had endured extreme misery.
Captain Pollard reached his home at Nantucket in safety, and
had tht great happiness of once more meeting his wife and
daughter, and recounting the sufferings of his men and himself,
by his own fireside. That unfortunate voyage was his last. He
had saved sufficient to secure his family tho comforts of life, and
the profits which he derived from his interest in other whaling
vessels added to that sum, made him independent. His old
mate, Owen Chase, continued to follow the sea. When told of

LOSS OF THE ANN ALEXANDER. 73

its dangers, he replied philosophically, " Well, there 's danger
everywhere, and there 's a heaven above us all."
There are only two cases on record of the whale attacking a
ship. One is included in the above narrative, and the other, of
more recent occurrence, is thus narrated in a late number of the
Panama Herald : —
" The ship Ann Alexander, Captain S. Deblois, sailed from
New Bedford, Mass., June 1st, 1850, for a cruise in the South
Pacific for sperm whale. Having taken about five hundred bar
rels of oil in the Atlantic, the ship proceeded on her voyage to
the Pacific. Nothing of unusual interest occurred until when
passing Cape Horn, one of the men, named Jackson Walker, of
Newport, N. H., was lost overboard in a storm. Reaching the
Pacific, she came up the coast and stopped at Valdivio, Coast of
Chili, for fresh provisions, and on the 31st of March last, she
called at Paita, for the purpose of shipping a man. The vessel
proceeded on her voyage to the South Pacific.
" On the 20th of August last, she reached what is well kno#n to
all whalers as the Off-Shore-Ground, in lat. 5° 50' South, lon.
102° West. In the morning of that day, at about 9 o'clock,
whales were discovered in the neighborhood and about noon, the
same day, they succeeded in making fast to one. Two boats had
gone after the whales — the larboard and starboard, the fornier
commanded by the first mate, and the latter by Captain Deblois.
The whale which they had struck, was harpooned by the larboard
boat. After running some time, the whale turned upon the boat
and rushing at it with tremendous violence, lifted open its enor
mous jaws, and taking the boat in, actually crushed it into frag
ments as small as a common-sized chair ! Captain Deblois im
mediately pulled for the scene of the disaster with the starboard
boat, and succeeded against all expectations, in rescuing the
whole of the crew of the boat — nine in number.
" There were now eighteen men in the starboard boat, consist
ing of the captain, the first mate, and the crews of both boats.
The frightful disaster had been witneBsed from the ship, and the
waist-boat was called into readiness, and sent to thdr relief.
7

74 WHALING ADVENTURES.

The distance from the ship was about six miles. As soon as the
waist-boatjarrived, the crews were divided, and it was determined
to pursue the same whale, and make another attack Jupon him.
Accordingly they separated and proceeded at some distance from
each other, as is usual on such occasions, after the whale. In a
short time they came up to him and prepared to give him battle .
The wajst-boat, commanded by the first mate, was in advance.
As soon as the whale perceived the demonstration being made
upon him, he turned his course suddenly, and making a tremen
dous dash at this boat, seized it with his wide-spread jaws, and
crushed it into atoms, allowing the men barely time to escape his
vengeance, by throwing themselves into the ocean.
" Captain Deblois again seeing the perilous condition of his
men, at the risk of meeting the same fate, directed his boat to
hasten to their rescue, and in a short time succeeded in saving
them all from a death little less horrible than that from which
they had twice so narrowly escaped. He then ordered the boat
to put for the ship as speedily as possible; and no sooner had
the order been given than they discovered the monster of the
deep making towards them with his jaws widely extended. For
tunately the monster came up and passed them at a short distance.
The boat then made her way to the ship and they all got on board
in safety.
"After reaching the ship a boat was despatched for the oars of
the demolished boats, and it was determined to pursue the whale
with the ship. As soon as the boat returned with the oars, sail
was set, and the ship proceeded after the whale. In a short
time she overtook him, and a lance was thrown into his head.
The ship passed on by him, and immediately after they discover
ed that the whale was making for the ship. As he came up
near her, they hauled to the wind, and suffered the monster to
pass her. After he had fairly passed they kept off to overtake
and attack him again. When the ship had reached within about
fifty rods of him, they discovered that the whale had settled
down deep below the surface of the water, and as it was near
sundown, they concluded to give up the pursuit.

LOSS OF THE ANN ALEXANDER. 75

" Captain Deblois was at this time standing in the night-heads
on the larboard bow, with croft in hand, ready to strike the
monster a deadly blow should he appear, the ship moving about
five knots ; when working on the side of the ship, he discovered
the whale rushing towards her at the rate of fifteen knots ! In,
an instant, the monster struck the ship with tremendous violence,
shaking her from stem to stern! She quivered under the violence
of the shock, as if she had struck upon a rock ! Captain Deblois
immediately descended into the forecastle, and there, to his horror,
discovered that the monster had struck the ship about two feet
from the keel, abreast the foremast, knocking a great hole entirely
through her bottom, through which the water roared and rushed
impetuously ! Springing to the deck, he ordered the mate to
cut away the anchors and get the cables overboard, to keep the
ship from sinking, as he had a large quantity of pig iron on
board. In doing this, the mate succeeded in relieving only one
anchor and cable clear, the other having been fastened around
the foremast. The ship was then sinking rapidly. The Captain
went to the cabin, where he found three feet of water ; he how
ever, succeeded in procuring a chronometer, sextant and chart.
Reaching the decks, he ordered the boats to be cleared away, and
to get water and provisions, as the ship was keeling over. He
again descended, to the cabin, but the water was rushing in so
rapidly that he could procure nothing. He came upon deck,
ordered all hands into the boats, and was the last himself to
leave the ship, which he did, by throwing himself into the sea
and swimming to the nearest boat ! The ship was on her beam-
ends, her top-gallant yards under water. They then pushed off
some distance from _ the ship, expecting her to sink in a very
short time. Upon an examination of the stores they had been
able to save, he discovered that they had only twelve quarts of
water, and not a mouthful of provisions of any kind ! The boats
contained eleven men each, were leaky, and night coming on ;
they were obliged to bail them all night to keep them from
sinking. "Next day, at daylight, they returned to the ship, no one dar-

76 WHALING ADVENTURES.

ing to venture on board but the captain, their intention being to
eut away the masts, and fearful that the moment that the masts
were cut away the ship would go down. With a single hatchet,
the Captain went cn board, cut away the mast, when the ship
righted. The boats then came up, and the men, by the sole aid
of spades, cut away the chain cable from around the foremast,
which got the ship nearly on her keel. The men then tied ropes
round their bodies, got into the sea, and cut a hole into the decks
to get out provisions. They could procure nothing but about
five gallons of vinegar and twenty pounds of wet bread. The ship
threatened to sink, and they deemed it imprudent to remain by
her longer, so they set sail in their boats and left her.
" On the 22nd of August, at about five o'clock, P. M., they had
the indescribable joy of discerning a ship in the distance. They
made signal and were soon answered, and in a short time they
were reached by the good ship Nantucket, Mass., Captain Gibbs,
who took them all on board, clothed and fed them, and extended
to them in every way the greatest possible hospitality.
" On the succeeding day Captain Gibbs went to the wreck of
the ill-fated Ann Alexander, for the purpose of trying to procure
something from her, but as the sea was rough, and the attempt
considered dangerous, he abandoned the project. The Nantucket
then set sail for Paita, where she arrived on the 15th of
September, and where she landed Captain Deblois and his men.
Captain Deblois was kindly and hospitably received, and enter
tained at Paita by Captain Bathurst, an English gentleman re
siding there, and subsequently took passage on board the schooner
Providence, Captain Starbuok, for this port, arriving here on
Sunday last, the 12th instant.
" At Paita, Captain Deblois entered his protest at the U. S.
Consulate, which was authenticated by the following officers and
seamen, on board at the time of the disaster ; the two officers and
the rest of the crew having shipped on board other vessels ': Jo
seph K. Green, first mate ; James Smith, third do. ; John Mor
gan, carpenter; James Riley, cooper; James McRoberts, John

WONDERFUL EXPLOIT OF BENJAMIN CLOUGH. 79

Smith, William Smith, Henry Reid, and Charles F. Booth,
seamen." " The whaling ship Sharon of Fairhaven, having been some time
cruising for whales in the vicinity of the Caroline Islands, put in
at Ascension, the 15th of October, 1842, for wood, water and
recruits. The requisite supplies being obtained, preparations
were made to proceed upon the voyage, when eleven of the crew
deserted, and being secreted and protected on shore, all efforts to
retake them were fruitless. The ship sailed again on the 27th
October, with a crew of seventeen men, all told, four of whom
were natives of King's Mill Groupe, and two of other islands in
the South Sea. The intention was to touch at Bay of Islands or
Port Jackson, to make up the complement of men.
" On Sunday, Nov. 6th, lat. 2° 20' N., lon. 162° E., whales
were raised, and both boats lowered in chase, leaving Captain
Norris, a Portuguese boy, named Manuel Jose des Reis, who
acted as steward, and three of the King's Mill Islanders, on
board. The boats soon succeeded in capturing a whale, which
the ship ran down to and took alongside — they' continuing in
pursuit of others. At 8 o'clock, P. M., the mate's boat being
about a mile and a half from the ship, her signal was discovered
at half mast, and he immediately pulled towards her. The sin
gular and unaccountable management of the ship for some time
previous had already been remarked by those in the boat, and
excited the liveliest apprehensions as they approached her.
Coming up upon her quarter within speaking distance, the boy
who was aloft, and had cut the main-top gallant halyards, told
Mr. Smith, the mate, that the Islanders had killed Captain Nor
ris, and were in possession of the ship. Just then, one of them,
armed, with a cutting spade and entirely naked, leaped upon the
taffrail, and, brandishing his weapon with most furious and
menacing gestures, dared the crew to come on board. The other
two were also naked, and stationed one at each side of the ship,
where they had collected all the whaling craft, billets of wood,
hammers, belaying-pins, in short, every thing that would serve
as a missile or offensive weapon, determined to repel any attempt

80 WHALING ADVENTURES.

to board. The fourth native of the same islands, was in the
boat, and one of the mutineers addressed him in his own lan
guage, telling him, it was supposed, what they had done, and
inviting him to join them. He made a gesture of disapproval,
upon which the other caught up the cook's axe and hurled it at
him with such precision of aim, though a ship's length distant,
that it cut through the back of his shirt as he stooped to avoid
the blow. A shower of missiles followed, thrown with such
force, that the bone belaying-pins were broken into several
pieces on striking the boat, but fortunately no one was seriously
injured by them. The mate then ordered Manuel to cut the main-
topgallant sheets and maintopsail halyards, and to go forward
on the stay and cut the halyards of the head sails and clear them
from the yards, which was done. The task of retaking the ship
was evidently one of extreme difficulty and danger, for the muti
neers had the advantages of position and a plentiful supply of
arms, with the resolution and skill to use them effectively, so
that the second mate and his crew, who had in the mean time come
up, were called to consult upon the best course to pur.sue.
" It was proposed that both boats should advance and board
the ship, one upon each side, at the same time ; but Mr. Smith,
upon whom by the melancholy catastrophe on board, the respon
sibility and duties of master had devolved, thought that a proper
regard for the interest of the owners, as well as for the safety of
the men under his command, required him to avoid all personal
risk, for which reason he proposed that both crews should take
the other boat and proceed to the ship, leaving him alone to
await the issue. This proposal met with no favor, the men de
claring a wish rather to start for the nearest land, -five or
six days sail distant, and the second mate relishing it so little
that he suffered his boat to drop astern out of talking distance.
Mr. Clough, the third mate, who acted as Mr. Smith's steersman
since the ship was short mannsd, had darted his lance several
times at the naked savage on the rail, but for want of sufficient
warp it fell short three or four feet at each trial ; he requested
therefore that the boat might be pulled within reach, as the fel-

WONDERFUL EXPLOIT OF BENJAMIN CLOUGH. 81

low kept his position without flinching, and insolently defied
him ; but the mate thought the danger too great, and refused to
gratify him. He then offered to go on board over the bows, if the
boy would cut the fore-royalstay and let the end fall overboard,
so that he could ascend by it to the jib-boom with a lance-warp
in his teeth : but Manuel had become so exhausted, by fright
and fatigue, that he was unable to get up to the royal mast-head
to execute his part of the task.
" His next plan, and the one he executed, was, that both boats
should pull ahead of the ship, and when it was quite dark, taking
every precaution to avoid exciting the suspicions of the mutineers,
he would jump into the sea, and passing close by the side of the
ship, enter her by the cabin windows. The ship and boats were
surrounded by sharks, attracted probably by the carcass of the
whale killed in the morning, to defend himself against which, he
took a boat-knife in his teeth, and let himself into the water as
silently as possible. At the same moment the ship took aback,
and it became necessary to swim — but to ' strike out ' and make
the best of his way, would cause a sparkling of the water, and
betray his approach to the look-out, so that he was obliged to
' walk water,' by which scarcely any agitation was made, and al
most as little progress. It was a tedious passage of more than
an hour and a half in duration, terminated at length by diving
under the ship, seizing the rudder at the heel, and ascending by
the after part of it to the starboard cabin window, through which
he made his entry. Two large sharks were close to the boat
when he left her, and kept him company the whole time without
offering to molest him, and the knife, whieh luckily had been
useless, he left upon the transom as he got in at the window. '
" He then divested himself of his clothing, that the enemy
might have no advantage over him on the score of nakedness
should they come to close quarters, and applied himself to listen
ing to the movements upon deck ; as these indicated that there
were yet no suspicions of his presence, he proceeded to search for
arms and ammunition. Two cutlasses were soon found, and
amongst all the muskets, two only were fit for service, so far as

82 WHALING ADVENTURES.

he could judge by careful handling — ^it was too dark to see.
Every locker and drawer in the cabin was ransacked for powder
and ball, which being found, the muskets were loaded and placed
with the cutlasses at the foot of the cabin stairs. While engaged
in loading a fowling piece, he heard a step on the gangway, and
some one descended the stairs, hitting the arms at the bottom
and knocking them down upon the floor. Mr. Clough ran to the
spot, but unable to see anything, groped about by the intruder's
feet, till he caught hold of a cutlass, with which he run him
through the body ; as he drew it out, a struggle ensued for the
weapon, and both fell on the floor — the officer, luckily, upper
most ; planting his knee upon his breast, he took out one of his
eyes, and with a good deal of trouble, brought the edge of
the sword to bear upon the back of his neck, and made an
attempt to cut off his head — ^he pulled it back and forth several
times ; but it was an awkward operation, for the other kept hold
of the sword and struggled violently, wounding Mr. C. severe
ly, by twisting the blade several times in his hand.
" After a while he became quiet, and supposing him to be
dead, Mr. C. got up ; but the other immediately rose and struck
about furiously with the cutlass, hitting him at almost every
pass, until exhausted probably by loss of blood, he uttered a
slight groan and fell upon the floor. Going again to the stairs
the officer saw another in the gang-way with a cutting spade
pointed towards him, when feeling for a loaded musket, he suc
ceeded, after snapping twice, in putting a ball through his heart.
At the same moment the spade dropped, or was thrown down,
taking effect in the thick part of Mr. Clough's arm, and the
blood gushed so violently from the wound, that he supposed the
artery to be severed, and began to give way to unpleasant reflec
tions, when the third came to the gangway, armed also with a
spade, and endeavored to look into the darkness below. Mr. C.
made several ineffectual attempts to gain another musket, but
his right hand and left arm were both disabled. The man stood
still a few minutes, then dropped his spade and walked forward.
Mr. Clough now hailed the boats, which were so near that he

WONDERFUL EXPLOIT OF BENJAMIN CLOUGH. 83

could hear the conversation going on amongst the men. He told
them that two of the mutineers were dead, himself dangerously
wounded, and urged them to hasten on board. They said they
did not believe that more than one had been killed, as they had
heard but one gun, and did not consider it prudent for them to
come near him ; so the wounded man had to sit down and suffer
his blood to flow, for his right hand had become so stiff and sore
that he could not use it to place a bandage on his arm. More
than half an hour having elapsed since the hail, and no further
news being heard, the boats ventured alongside.
A light being struck and brought into the cabin, the floor was
found covered with the blood of both combatants. The man
, who had first entered the cabin was reclining on the transom,
still grasping the cutlass, and with it the boat knife loft by Mr.
C. when he came on board; one of his eyes hung upon his
cheek, and his body was covered with gore ; he was still alive,
but did not move, and made no noise but a kind of suppressed
groan. One of the men stabbed him twice with a boat spade,
and Mr. Smith discharged a musket at him ; he was then caught
by the hair, dragged upon deck, and thrown into the sea. The
deck presented a shocking spectacle — all dabbled and tracked
with clotted blood ; the mangled and headless Body of the unfor
tunate captain was lying there, as was that of one of his
murderers, which was unceremoniously thrown over the side,
while the remains of Captain Norris were collected and reserved
for burial the next day. The surviving mutineer jumped over
board and swam some distance from the ship, but returned
during the night and hid himself in the forehold. When the
crew attempted to take him out, the next day, he made some
show of resistance, but at last came on deck and surrendered
himself. He was put in irons, and taken to Sydney, where he
was left in prison when the ship sailed.
" The Sharon completed her voyage, under the command of
Mr. Smith, more successfully than could have been expected
after such a melancholy and disheartening interruption — Mr.

84 A SPANISH BULL-FIGHT.

Clough remaining on board as second mate. To his daring and
almost unaided exertions are to be attributed the return of a
valuable ship and cargo, and what is far more important, the
preservation of the surviving crew from the miserable fate which
must have overtaken them, had they persisted in seeking the
nearest land in their boats."
A SPANISH BULL-FIGHT.
The most remarkable amusement of the Spaniards is the bull
fight. The following description will give an idea of this sport.
The bulls were confined in an area behind the amphitheatre.
Before they were admitted into the theatre, three combatants on
horseback placed themselves at some distance, one on each side
of, and another opposite the door, at which the bull was to enter.
A trumpet was then sounded, as a signal to let in the bull, and
the man who opened the door got behind it immediately. During
a quarter of an hour preceding this period, the bulls had been
teazed by persons placed on the ceilings of the stables, pricking
them on the backs. The bull made directly at the first horseman,
who received it on the point of the spear, held in the middle tight
to his side, and passing under his arm-pit — This weapon making a
wide gash in the bull's shoulder, occasioned it to draw back. A
fresh bull now entcrod, staring wildly about, and frightened by
the clapping and hallooing of the assembled multitude. It then
ran successively against the other two combatants, and from each
received a deep wound. A signal was now given with the trumpet
for the horseman to retire, when the men on foot began their at
tack, who struck barbed darts in every part of tho animal's body.
The trumpet again sounding, the matador appeared, carrying in
his left hand a cloak, extended on a short stick, and in his right
a two-edged .sword. At the moment when the bull made furiously
at him, he plunged Lis bwurd into its neck behind the horns, by
which it instantly fell down dead. If the matador miss his aim
he rarely escapes with his life. The dead bull was immediately
dragged out of the area by three horses on a full gallop, whose
traces were fastened to the horns.

ADVENTURE ON THE CORCOVADO.
The Corcovado mountain is situated near Rio Janeiro, the
chief city of Brazil and of South America. It rises from a range
which forms the wall separating the city from the interior. Its
summit is lofty, its sides precipitous, and covered with a dense
forest of a rich dark green. The following account of the
ascent of this well-known and much admired mountain, is given
by a recent rambler at Rio.
" Well, my companion and I ascended the path, and moved
up the country along the line of the aqueduct. We had not
walked half an hour ere we found ourselves winding through a
regular South American forest. I never in my life saw such
vegetation Were you to take a cart-load of leaves, and empty
them in a heap, I do not think they could hardly lie closer than
they did upon the branches of this wood ; and all green, of a
color most lovely, though monotonous ; for here the tree in no
season is unclad, nor does the summer which they have for a
winter ever sear the hue of any foliage. The water was conduct
ed downwards along the precipitous sides of different prongs of
the parent chain of highland, and often along the very narrow
edge of such steeps, where you had views of deep well-like valleys,
their nearly perpendicular sides all wood-clad, and green as a
garden arbor, that green being variegated by the snowy walls of
plantation houses, and the bright red cultivated soil at the bot
tom. The clear 'un-European' laugh of the negroes rose, refined
by height and distance, in tinkling reverberations from precipice
to precipice, emulating the shrillness and melody of the cicala
piping on every twig. It was an awe-striking sight, standing on
the edge of the narrow pathway, to part the clustering bushes,
and look down the wood-mantled precipices ; for the tree trunks
8 (85)

86 ADVENTURE ON THE CORCOVADO.

seemed to shoot clusteringly from out the all but perpendicular
steeps, and rising branchless to a great height, till, by loftiness
of stem, they had gained a small distance from the face of the
rocks, gave out a dense mass of foliage impervious to light as so
much solid stone. The trees rising to a height of fifty or sixty,
often of at least seventy feet, ere they had room to bear a leaf,
their foliage looked like a vast green mat hung up in the sun
upon the face of the hills, and supported in that position by in
numerable gigantic poles, stuck against rather than into rocks,
as a dirty kitchen wench would fix a candle against the wall.
And when you looked down among these naked stems, they and
the dense brushwood at their roots seemed steeped in a faint
greenish light, or rather dimness, that far away down towards
the valleys, became a dark verdant mistiness, through which ob
jects were no longer clearly distinguishable ; while everywhere
above and below, guanas, lizards, birds, and butterflies, all tinted
alike in this mystic light, flitted and flew from stem to stem in the
silent, cool, and fragrant greenness. And when we rolled stones,
and threw them down, and they went smashing now against the
rocks, now against the trunks, — anon crashing and tearing their
way through the thick topmost foliage of a lofty tree, which top
most foliage was not ten feet distant from the face of the rock that
held its root some sixty feet farther down ; and when these stones
went rolling and knocking, their sounds growing fainter in the
leafy green mists far below, till only a louder smash could reach
the ear, we experienced a feeling as closely approaching the sub
lime as I can well conceive ; and, considering that a slip of the
foot might precipitate ourselves after the stones, were glad .to
draw close to the wall of the aqueduct. But all overhead was
light, and beauty, and stirring life. Blossoms- of every descrip
tion sprang up by the path ; birds of all shapes and plumage,
fluttered and chirped among the branches ; and big butterflies,
of every gorgeous hue, and villanous looking dragon-flies, with
their scaly blue lustre and halo-like flutter of misty gauze wings,
continually crossed us, leading us often in fruitless chase. Far
above us might be seen the magnificent man-of-war bird, tha

ADVENTURE ON THE CORCOVADO. 87

most graceful in form and flight of all winged creatures, leisurely
sailing the air from his nest in the untrodden clefts of the moun
tain to seek his prey, pirate-like, upon the sea. From branches
over our heads hung suspended, by invisible thread, .the tree
spider, in his little silken nest, popping his head out and in, and
heaving in or paying out his cable as he desired to rise or fall.
Bees and all winged insects hummed through the air, while the
earth teemed with ants and every creeping insect ; a tiny stir
among the grass or leaves indicating the rapid dart of the lizard,
guana, or some other reptile. And over all glowed, in his full
majesty, th^ life-inspiring sun ; not, as in other climes, giving
coy and temporary glances of his glory from between the veils of
clouds, but rolling alone in the blue sky, the sole object in
heaven. " Up we went, rounding now one angle, anon another pre
cipice, and at each obtaining new views of the rich country below,
with its woods, fields, and lagoons ; of the bay, with its innume
rable islands and multitude of ships dotting its surface ; of the
battery, or church-crowned rocks that abound in the vicinity of
the town ; and of Rio itself, sleeping obscure beneath its cloud
of dusty haze.
" At length, when wo had marched about five miles, and were
now some fifteen hundred feet above the town, we came to the
immediate source of the lower aqueduct, where a Small mountain
stream rushing into the cistern in part supplied it ; a second
portion being brought round in a little artificial gutter from
another part of the mountain. This second source we followed ;
but soon left it, striking up a path alongside a wattle-built cot
tage, where resided a Brazilian soldier, a sort of perpetual sentry
upon the good repair of the water-works near this point. Short
ly after passing the cottage the path became exceedingly wild ;
on one side of it generally rose a precipice ; on the other an
abyss descended, where the mighty trees grew with their naked
stems shooting far aloft, one from almost every square yard of
surface, frequently shutting out from us all view of sun or sky;
the only thing we could see besides stems, rocks, and foliage.

88 ADVENTURE ON THE CORCOVADO.

being the winding path stretching a little in advance or behind,
as it were nnder an arcade of verdure, while a subdued, cool,
greenish light showed us the damp trodden soil of the pathway,
and the brushwood so luxuriantly dense as almost to appear of
massive solidity. Here we saw the coffee-bush growing wild,
with its cherry-red berries — there the cocoa-nut tree, bare, how
ever, of fruit, for the season was their winter. Guavas, mangos,
plantains, and bananas, and all tropical plants, were here ; for
their seeds wafted by the winds from the rich plains below, had
caught root and sprung into forest existence as trees or bushes.
" In this wild path we walked on about two miles more, till
we reached another portion — the highest of these waterworks.
A small rivulet of crystal water was brought round in hollow tiles
from far behind the shoulder of the mountain. After following
this a little, we came upon what you could hardly call a hamlet ;
it consisted of one house and two or three huts, while an open
shed, with a bench under it for working, stood in the midst.
The house was inhabited by a Brazilian and his family, the huts
by negroes. Thereafter there was about half a mile of ascent —
tremendous climbing ! — they were no ordinary lungs that could
serve a man up those dizzy steeps. Nevertheless we bent our
breasts forward to the task, and, panting and exhausted, even
after very frequent stoppages, at last found ourselves close to the
summit, which is two thousand three hundred and sixty feet
above the town's level. This summit is double; consisting of
two points of rock, with a gash about forty feet deep between
them. A small bridge of iron, placed by one of the emperors,
formerly connected them, and an iron chain-rail surrounded each
to prevent people from tumbling off and going sheer down the
precipices. There were also a flag-staff for signalizing, and a
small iron house or box for shelter. All is now gone, save the
slender iron posts that supported the chain, and a few steps cut
in the rock that formerly led to the bridge. Each of the sum
mits is a separate rock ; not flat, but rounded on the upper sur
face, so that a puff of wind would blow you off; indeed you have
hardly room to stand secure, for neither of the rocks is more

ADVENTURE ON THE CORCOVADO. 89

than twenty feet across, and hardly a square yard is level enough
to stand upon securely, it being gradually rounded off into the
stupendous bare precipices that form three sides of the Corcovado
or Humpback mountain."
Many stories are told of adventures met with on the Corcovado.
Persons, making a single misstep, have been precipitated hun
dreds of feet to certain destruction. Each lovely or extraordi
nary formation is covered with romance. For the Brazilians
have the active imagination of the Spaniards and Portuguese,
and where startling incidents do not occur, they take care to fill
the vacuum by invention. But the appended narrative of a
young European merchant, who settled in Rio, contains a thrill
ing adventure, the truth of which can scarcely be doubted.
" When I first came out to Brazil, I got a situation as clerk
in the counting house of Diaz, Brown, and Company, the exten
sive merchants at Rio Janeiro. The only other white clerk in
their place of business was one Lopez de Pereira, a Portuguese
by descent and birth, but educated in England. Of course we
became companions ; and although he was eccentric to absurdity,
I found him a very agreeable fellow on the whole ; his whims
being often irresistibly ridiculous, while he was not at all annoy
ed at laughter, but would laugh himself with his whole heart,
while he still persisted in the proceedings that caused it. These
were often, while very odd, both hurtful to himself and painful
to his friends ; as for instance : —
" The inhabitants of Madeira have a singular head-dress ; it
consists of a little blue scull-cap, lined with red, not sufficient to
cover the head of an infant, and having a small stiff pig-tail,
about four inches in length, projecting into the air from the mid
dle of it. This curious affair they perch on a bushy head of hair,
and certainly acquire thereby an aspect sufficiently remarkable
to a stranger. Now this cap Pereira had seen at that island, on
his voyage out from England, and once he took it into his head
to wear one, made under his direction, of a similar construction,
at Rio ; nor did he leave off his noticeable head-piece till an at
tack of brain fever made him adopt a more shady covering. He
8* ""

90 ADVENTURE ON THE CORCOVADO.

was of course a Roman Catholic, and devoutly believed in the
agency of the devil, upon whom, when his whims had left him,
he invariably laid the blame.
" One day, when we had been about a year together, the day
being a holiday, we resolved upon au expedition to the top of the
Corcovado. Accordingly, hiring horses, we rode up till horses'
could go no farther. As we rode I began to laugh and question
him with regard to his singular weakness. My thoughts were
directed to this subject by seeing him turn round on the horse's
back and ride with his face to the tail; and this though the ani
mal was very spirited, and the path was so narrow that one horse
only had room to go upon it; with the stone wall of the aqueduct
on one side, and a succession of wooded precipices on the other.
On my inquiring the cause of this remarkable manoeuvre, he re
plied, laughing loudly himself, that he thought it was a good
idea, as he could talk to me better face to face, for I was riding
in the rear. But I remarked that we could converse quite
well without seeing each other, and reminded him of the misers,
who talked in the dark to save candles. Upon this, he stated
that as all the view lay behind us and nothing in front but woods,
this was the most rational way of riding for an admirer of the
picturesque. I bantered him out of this argument also, when he
plainly confessed that he rode in that way from an internal im
pulse, no more to be resisted or controlled by him than the de
crees of fate — that there was a devil within him who prompted
him to make himself ridiculous, and that he could no more gain
say this mastering spirit than fly in the air. For the rest of the
ride he continued to practise this uncavalier-like style of horse
manship, to the vast entertainment of sundry blackies we encoun
tered, working at small repairs on the aqueduct, or bringing
down loads of sticks from the woods. Nevertheless he continued
to talk with infinite good humor of his own curious turn of mind.
He told me that this devil of his ceased its malicious promptings
at all times when heavy business occupied him — that cold bath
ing went far against it; and that once, when for a considerable

ADVENTURE ON THE CORCOVADO. 91

time under anti-inflammatory treatment for some complaint, it
entirely disappeared.
" At length we arrived at the last collection of houses on the
ascent, and here we left our horses, mounting the last steeps on
foot. " As soon as we stood upon the rocky ball, and looked around
us, overwhelmed by the grandeur and danger of the scene, I was
full of exclamations. From the brim of the rock we stood on,
the sight leaped down direct to fields and lagoons, two or three
thousand feet beneath us; and the precipices, from what
I could see of them, made my blood gold. The vastness of
the horizon, with the distance and diversity of the parts filling it
up — the silence, the solitude, the apparent eternal nature of the
mighty rocks — even of the forest — all these ideas, combined with
the precarious nature of our position on this airy and often cloud-
covered pinnacle, and the certain dreadful fate that awaited one
who should topple from such a stupendous height (for on three
sides were precipices of from one to two thousand feet,) raised
my mind to a very high state of excitement. But when I looked
at Pereira, expecting to see in him an equal enjoyment, I ob
served his dark Portuguese features pale with that tawny color
which constitutes the pallor of southern Europeans. His blood
less lips quivered, and there was a sort of convulsive starting of
different muscles of his body.
" 'What,' said I, ' you surely are not afraid of falling ? — come
near to the centre, and your head will not swim so much.'
" ' Afraid !' he replied, vaguely and incoherently. ' No ! —
Yes — afraid for you ; — save yourself, D  ! for God's sake,
save yourself !'
« I Why, man, there ia no fear — get you down first, you are
nearest the path.'
"'No! we shall never go down that path — the demon,
D  , the demon in m,y heart prompts me to ihrovi you from
this pinnade sheer to destruction, and he will not but be obeyed !•
O Mother of Deity ! Queen of Heaven ! look on roe in mercy 1'
"As he spoke, my heart smote my side violently; and I felt

92 ADVENTURE ON THE CORCOVADO.

for a moment sick to death, for the recollection of his character
and strange eccentricities arose before my mind.
" ' Gracious Heaven !' said I, ' you cannot mean what you
say ?' As I stood horror-stricken, he clasped his hands, and
wringing them slowly, but with his whole strength, raised them
above his head, looking upward at the same time with eyes
sparkling from unnatural fire, and grinding his teeth, as if with
anguish, a moment — and, with a wild howl of despair that rung
like the cry of a vulture, he sprang upon me !
A mercy it was that he gave me that warning ! I was pre
pared so far, that his onset drove me back but one step : another
step would have been death to me ! He grasped me with his
whole strength, and with the convulsive gripe of mortal fear I
closed upon him ; and thus, in dread embrace, we stood straining
with the whole power of every sinew. It could not be called
struggling, it was the slow and steady application of every force
and every art of two athletic young men striving, the one in the
frenzy of madness, the other in the dread of immediate dissolu
tion. Now he would bend me a little, now I him ! Oh what an
agony that minute was to me !
At length, in about two minutes, I knew that his strength
was giving way : we were equally matched in strength, but I had
the full chest, and long wind, produced by hard exercise through
all my youth in a far northern climate ; he was narrow-chested,
and soon began to pant. Perceiving this, I compressed his ribs
with my whole strength, and, bending in his back, gradually
brought him down on the rock. But the moment he was down he
commenced struggling violently, and rolled us both over towards
the awful brink. I thought I was gone, and clutched the rough
rock with my fingers till the nails were torn from them. Provi
dentially my hand came against one of the rusted iron supports
that had, of old, upheld the chain, and I grasped it with that
clutch commonly called the death-gripe. Holding on by this,
•and getting my legs about it so as to have a good purchase,
while he still struggled carelessly with hand and teeth to dis
lodge me, I caught hold of the hair of hia temples and dashed

ADVENTURE ON THE CORCOVADO. 93

his head violently against the rock. The blow affected his brain ;
the eyes which had just been glaring upon me in maniacal fury
now rolled obliquely in their sockets, and its motions were no
longer directed against me. With both hands I repeated the
blow, and he remained motionless ; still I was not sure of him,
for I had read and heard that the insane are very cunning, and
adopt many schemes to accomplish their ends ; so, putting one
hand to his heart, and being able to perceive only a very faint
and scarcely discernible beating, I got up and drew him to the
middle of the rock. Then, resting for a moment to breathe and
to thank Heaven that I had been saved alive from this fearful
encounter, I began to descend the rock, dragging him after me
till I got on a secure path, when I shouldered him and carried
him to where we had left our horses. Here I got some blacks
to carry him down to the city of Rio Janeiro, and conveyed him
to the house of our mutual employer, Mr. Brown.
" As we were quite by ourselves, I might have accounted for
his injuries by a supposed fall among the rocks, but I preferred
telling the truth as it is written here. An inquiry was made ac
cording to the law of Brazil, and I was declared free of all blame;
whilst Pereira, who was then recovering his bodily health, was
condemned to restraint in a madhouse for life.
" I never afterwards could look up to the pinnacles of Corco
vado without feelings of horror being called up in my mind; and
so painful was this to me, that I was ultimately led to transport
myself and my fortunes to Monte Video."

5^S^«v;=»fe

THE PERUVIAN INDIANS.

The traveller in the land of the Incas, upon his first entrance
into the country, is not very favourably impressed with its features.
But as he progresses towards the interior, scenes and persons
present themselves which win his attention. When he has passed
over the elevated plains of Bombon, and gains a glimpse of Cerro
de Pasco, he feels that he is again approaching the home of civi
lization. It is but a sordid civilization, however; the love of silver
has collected, in a dreary clime bordering on the eternal snow,
the men of various nations — Spaniards, Germans, Englishmen,
Swedes, Americans, and Italians. The first glimpse of a conside
rable town in such a region is a pleasure and surprise ; but little
is found on a nearer approach, to please the eye. The beauty of
the place is subterraneous — in its rich silver mines. Many a tale
of wild speculation belongs to this remarkable town. Gambling
is the favourite amusement. The Indians employed in the mines
of Cerro de Pasco are among the most degraded inhabitants of
Peru. Some stories are related of the faculty of secretiveness,
as developed among these natives, who have been made the slaves
of European rapacity. We cannot decide on the probability of
these tales ; but instances as striking are recorded of the Indians
of Mexico : —
(94)

THE PERUVIAN INDIANS. 95

"The Indians have discovered that their silver mines have
made their condition rather worse than better. They determine,
therefore, to keep secret their knowledge of some rich veins of
silver not yet explored by Europeans. Traditions of these mines
have been handed down, it is supposed, from father to son,
through centuries. Even brandy, whioh will open the Indian's
mouth on any other subject, fails in this case. A few years ago,
there lived, in the large village of Huancayo, the brothers Don
Jose and Don Pedro Irriarte — who were among the wealthiest
mine-proprietors of Peru. As they had reason to suspect the
existence of rich unexplored veins among the neighbouring hills,
they sent out a young man in their employ to examine the coun
try, and use the likeliest means of discovery. Accordingly, he
repaired to a village, where he found lodgings in the hut of an
Indian shepherd — from whom he concealed his object. In the
course of a few months, an attachment had grown up between
the young adventurer and the shepherd's daughter; and, at last,
the young man succeeded so far in his object as to win from the
girl a promise that she would point out to him the mouth of a
rich silver-mine. She directed him to follow her at some dis
tance, on a certain day when she should go out to tend her flock
on the hills; and to notice where she dropped her 'manta,' (a
woollen shawl.) There, she told him, he would find the entrance
of the mine. The young agent obeyed her directions; and,
after sorae digging, found his way into a moderately deep shaft,
which led to a rich vein of silver. He was busily engaged in
breaking off some specimens of the ore, when he was surprized
by the old shepherd, who congratulated him on the discovery,
and offered assistance. After working together for some hours,
they rested ; and the Indian offered to the young man a cup of
chicha, which he drank. Soon after drinking, he felt unwell;
and, as a suspicion of being poisoned flashed upon his mind, he
instantly packed the specimens of ore in his wallet, hastened back
to the village, and thence rode to Huancayo. He had only time
to explain his adventure to his employers, and point out as well
as he could, the locality of the mine ; for he died in the night.

96 THE PERUVIAN INDIANS.

Another exploring party was immediately sent in the neighbour
hood, but without success : the Indian and his family had van
ished from the place, and no trace of the mine could be dis
covered." Another story is the following : —
" A certain Franciscan monk, a passionate gambler, lived at
Huancayo. By his friendly offices, he had become a favourite
among the Indians, to whom he often appplied when in want of
money. One day, when he had suffered losses at the hazard-
table, he begged of an Indian, who was his relative, to help him
out of his poverty. The Indian promised assistance on the fol
lowing evening ; and arrived punctually at the appointed time,
with a bag full of silver-ore for the monk. This process was
repeated several times; until the still needy monk earnestly
prayed that he might be favoured with a view of the source from
which his wants had been so often supplied. This request also
was granted by the friendly relative; and, accordingly, on the
appointed night three Indians came to the house of the Francis
can — desired that he would allow them to bandage his eyes — and,
he assenting, carried him away, on their shoulders, some miles
among the mountains. There, they lifted him down — conducted
him down a shaft of little depth — and displayed to him a rich
and shining vein of silver. When he had amply feasted his
sight, and had taken ore enough for his present necessities, his
eyes were again bandaged and he was carried home on the shoul
ders of his guides. On the road, he slily untied his rosary ; and
dropped a bead here and there, that he might have a clue to the
mine. Arrived at home, he lay down to rest, in the comfortable
hope of exploring the path to wealth on the following day ; but,
in the course of about two hours, the Indian, his relative, came
to the door, with his hands full of beads — ' Father,' said he, as
he gave them to the monk, ' you lost your rosary on the road.' "

A HUANACA OR GUANACO.

ADVENTURE ON THE PUNA OF PERU.

The adventures of travellers among the mountains and moun
taineers of Peru are frequently of a wild and startling character.
The country and the natives are equally remarkable for their
savage peculiarities. The following adventure narrated by a
recent traveller, will illustrate what many have experienced : —
" I had now reached the high plain, 14,000 feet above the
level of the sea. On each side rose the peaks of the Cordil
leras clothed in eternal ice — gigantic pyramids towering into the
heavens. It seemed to me as if nature on these snowy plains of
the Cordilleras, breathed out her last breath. Here life and
death met together; and I seemed to be arrived at the boundary-
line between being and annihilation. On which side would my
lot fall ? I could not guess. How little life had the sun awak-
9 (97)

98 ADVENTURE ON THE PUNA OF PERU.

ened around me ; where the dull-green puna-grass, hardly the
height of a finger, mingled its hue with the mountain glaciers !
Yet here I saluted with pleasure, as old friends, the purple-blue
gentiana and the brown calceolaria. * * As I rode further,
life awakened in richer variety around me : animals and birds
appeared — few in species but rich in individuals. Herds of vicu
nas approached me — then fled away with the speed of the wind.
I saw in the distance, quiet troops of huanacas gazing suspiciously
at me, and passing along. * * j jj^d ridden on for several
hours, observing the varieties of life in this elevated plain, when
I came upon a dead mule which had been left here by its driver
to die of hunger and cold. As I approached the carcass, three
condors rose from their repast ; and hovered, for a while, in nar
rowing circles round my head, as if threatening punishment for
the interruption. It was now two o'clock in the afternoon, and
I had ridden on a gradual ascent since the break of day. My
panting mule slackened his pace, and seemed unwilling to toil up
an elevation which lay in my route. I dismounted : and to re
lieve the beast and exercise my limbs, began walking at a rapid
pace. But, in a short time the rarity of the air began to be felt;
and I experienced an oppressive sensation which I had never known
before. I stood still that I might breathe more freely; but there
was no support in the thin air. I tried to walk; but an inde
scribable distress compelled me to halt again. My heart throbbed
audibly against my side; my breathing was short and interrupted ;
a world's load seemed laid upon my chest ; my lips were blue
and parched, and the small vessels of my eyelids were bursting.
Then, my senses were leaving me ; I could neither see, hear, nor
feel distinctly; a grey mist was floating before my eyes — tinged,
at times with red, when the blood gathered on my eyelids. In
short, I felt myself involved in that strife between life and death,
which I had before imagined in surrounding nature. My head
became giddy, and I was compelled to lie down. If all the riches
of the world or the glories of heaven had been but a hundred
feet higher, I could not have stretched out my hand towards
them. I lay in this half-senseless condition for some time —

ADVENTURE ON THE PUNA OF PERU. 99

until rest had so far restored me that I could mount my mule.
One of the Puna storms now suddenly gathered, and the snow
began to fall heavily. The sun looked out at intervals — but only
for a moment. My mule could scarcely wade through the in
creasing snow. Night was coming on ; I had lost all feeling in
my feet, and could hardly hold the reins in my benumbed fin
gers. I was about to yield myself up for lost, when I observed
an overhanging rock sheltering a cave. I hastened to explore
the spot — and found there a shelter from the wind. I unsaddled
the mule, and made a bed of my cloak and trappings. After
tying the animal to a stone, I appeased my hunger with roasted
maize and cheese, and lay down to sleep. But scarcely had my
eyes closed, when an intolerable burning pain in my eyelids
awakened me. There was no more hope of sleep. The hours
of the night seemed endless. When I reckoned that day must be
breaking, I opened my eyes, and discovered all the misery of my
situation. A human corpse had served as my pillow. Shudder
ing, I hastened out of the cave, to saddle my mule and leave
this dismal place ; but the good beast was lying dead upon the
ground ;^in his hunger he had eaten, as it appeared, the poison
ous garbancillo. Poor beast ! he had shared some hard adven
tures with me. I turned again towards the cave. The sun had
risen upon this frozen world ; and encouraged by signs of light
and life around me, I ventured to inspect the body of my lifeless
companion. It was the corpse of a half-Indian ; and several
deadly wounds in the head explained that he had been murdered
by the slings of Indian robbers, who had taken away his clothes.
I seized my gun, and shot a mountain hare — which served for
breakfast ; then waited for help. It was near noon when I
heard a monotonous, short cry, now and then breaking the still
ness. Recognizing the tones, I mounted on the nearest point of
rock ; and, looking down, discovered the two Indian lama-drivers
whom I had met on the previous day. I hastened to them, and
persuaded them, by the gift of a little tobacco, to leave one of
their lamas with me, to carry my baggage."

ROSAS.

TREATMENT OF PRISONERS BY ROSAS.

The history of the civil war in the Argentine republic of South
America, presents many instances of atrocity which are almost
without parallel among civilized nations. The perpetrator of
most of these outrages, was General Rosas, the leader of the
Federalist faction — a man of decided ability, but selfish in his
aims, and unscrupulous in his means. The treatment of prisoners
by both parties was marked with savage zeal. Quarter was sel
dom given, each faction looking upon the other as composed of
traitors. The following illustration of the bloody policy pursued
by Rosas is well authenticated : —
" Near his encampment were two or three country mansions;
one of which, not more than three hundred yards from the scene,
was occupied by Don  , whose lady chanced to be on the as-
Boto when three prisoners were brought into the camp. The
(100)

TREATMENT OF PRISONERS BT ROSAS. 101

natural sympathies of a woman's heart were at once excited in
their behalf, and she watched with great anxiety the course pur
sued toward them. Each having been divested of his coat, vest,
and hat, was brought out upon the plain and placed in what is
called stac ; that is to say, they were placed upon their backs on
the ground, their arms extended and secured in that position by
thongs tied about the wrists, and fastened to stakes driven in the
ground for that purpose, with their feet in the same manner ;
and the poor fellows were thus left in the sun, with their faces
upward. When the lady saw this, she hastened to inform her
husband, and entreated of him to intercede for their liberation ;
but he answered, that to interfere with a decree of Rosas, would
be to endanger his own life without a possibility of saving the
victims. The lady's anxiety increased. Again and again, dur
ing the day would she go to the housetop in hopes of finding that
they had been removed ; but as often did she see them in their
helpless position broiling in the sun ! As the shades of night
came on and found them still there, she became almost frantic :
in vain had her husband urged and entreated her to remain be
low — there was a horrible infatuation that drew her, spite of her
will, to look upon the scene until it had unfitted her for every
other thought. At night she could not sleep : the vision of those
miserable men was constantly before her eyes, and at the earliest
dawn she was again at the housetop. They were still in view,
stretched out as she had last seen them, and where they had now
remained during the space of at least twenty hours.
"At last they were unbound; and the lady, clapping her
hands with joy exclaimed, ' they have taken them up ! they have
taken them up !' But her joy was of short duration; the poor
fellows, blinded and scarcely able to stand, were staggering about
on their feet as Rosas came from his tent ; and in a few minutes
after, a volley of six muskets brought them to the ground, and
put an end to their mortal agony."
The cruel Rosas was overthrown in a great battle fought Feb.
3rd, 1852, by General Urquiza, who succeeded to his power.
Rosas had been dictator for about twenty years.
9*

SCOTCH AND ENGLISH HUNTERS IN SOUTH
AFRICA.
The interior of South Africa has become famous for the abun
dance and noble character of its game, and the singular beauty
of its scenery.
" Everything upon which the eye rests has the appearance of
having been cast in a mould, nowhere else made use of in the
system of nature. Among the terrestial animals what bulk and
fantastic formations ! How numerous and strikingly contrasted are
the groups that present themselves ! In their character and habits
what extremes appear to meet ! How unspeakably lavish seems
to be the waste of vitality ! Yet who would dare to say, that in
this prodigious outpouring of animal life, there is a single crea
ture that does not enjoy and adorn the scene on which it moves ?
If there be anything we should be disposed to think out of place,
it is the stunted representatives of humanity, which, under the
name of Bushmen, roam in indescribable misery and degradation
over those sublime savannas. To a man of imagination, nothing
more inspiring can be conceived than climbing one of the breezy
peaks overlooking that strange wilderness, at the moment that
the dawn is busily unfolding all its varied features. From every
tree the heavy dew-drops pour like rain : streams of white mist,
smooth and glassy as a tranquil river, float slowly down the val
leys, reflecting from their surface the trees, and cliffs, and crags
on either hand. Here, through openings between feathery, mi
mosas, weeping willows, and tall trembling reeds, we catch a
'glimpse of some quiet lake, the haunt of the hippopotamus ;
while a herd of graceful purple antelopes are seen drinking on
its further margin. There, amidst thick clumps of camel-thorn,
we behold a drove of giraffes, with heads eighteen feet high,
, a02)

HUNTERS IN SOUTH AFRICA. 103

browsing on tho tops of trees. Elsewhere the rhinoceros pokes
forth his long ugly snout from a brake. While the lion, fearless
in the consciousness of his own strength, parades his tawny bulk
over the plain, or reclines in sphinx-like attitude beneath some
ancient tree."
Many Englishmen have visited this teeming country for the
sole purpose of enjoying the exhilarating sport. Mr. Gordon
Cumming, Sir Cornwallis Harris, and others, have published well
written narratives of their adventures and achievements, some of
which display much heroism on the part of these enthusiastic
Nimrods. Mr. Cumming was, perhaps, as daring, persevering,
and successful a hunter as ever lived. During five years, the
term of his residence in South Africa, he brought down more
than fifty elephants, upwards of twenty lions, and many other
animals, some of which were equally formidable. The following
relations will illustrate the character of the sport and the charac
ter of the sportsman.
" On the 23rd of September, although harassed in my mind,
and fearing to lose all my horses if I did not speedily forsake the
country, I yielded to my inclination, and the persuasions of Mtit-
chuisho, once more to take the field, and follow the spoor of two
bull elephants, reported to have visited a distant fountain. Be
fore starting I gave Johannus my phlegme, and a hasty lesson
in the art of bleeding, with instructions to bleed copiously any
of my stud evincing the slightest symptoms of distemper. We
held an easterly course, and at sundown on the second day I
bagged a, white rhinoceros and a fine old bull elephant, beside
whose carcase I bivouacked as usual. On the forenoon of the
25th I saddled up and held for camp, accompanied by only one
attendant. " It was a glorious day, with a cloudy sky, and the wind blew
fresh off the Southern Ocean. Having ridden some miles in a
northerly direction, we crossed the broad and gravelly bed of a
periodical river, in which were abundance of holes excavated by
the elephants, containing delicious water. Having passed the
river, we entered an extensive grove of picturesque cameel-dern

104 HUNTERS IN SOUTH AFRICA.

trees, clad in young foliage of the most delicious green. On
gaining a gentle eminence about a mile beyond this grove, I
looked forth upon an extensive hollow, where I beheld for the
first time for many days a fine old cock ostrich, which quickly
observed us and dashed away to our left. I had ceased to devote
my attention to the ostrich, and was straining my eyes in an
opposite direction, when Klienboy called out to me, ' Dar loup
de ould carle ;' and turning my eyes to the retreating ostrich, I
beheld two first-rate old bull elephants, charging along at their
utmost speed within a hundred yards of it. They seemed at first
to be in great alarm, but, quickly discovering what it was that
had caused their confusion, they at once reduced their pace to a
slow and stately walk. This was a fine look-out, the country
appeared to be favourable for an attack, and I was followed by
Wolf and Bonteberg, both tried and serviceable dogs with ele
phants. Owing to the pace at which I had been riding, both
dogs and horses were out of breath, so I resolved not to attack
the elephants immediately, but to follow slowly, holding them in
view. " The elephants were proceeding right up the wind, and the
distance betwixt us was about five hundred yards. I advanced
quietly towards them, and had proceeded about half way, when,
casting my eyes to my right, I beheld a whole herd of tearing
bull elephants standing thick together on a wooded eminence
within three hundred yards of me. These elephants were almost
to leeward. Now the correct thing to do was to slay the best in
each troop, which I accomplished in the following manner , — I
gave the large herd my wind, upon which they instantly tossed
their trunks aloft, 'a moment snuffed the tainted gale,' and
wheeling about, charged right down wind, crashing through the
jungle in dire alarm. My object now was to endeavour to select
the finest bull, and hunt him to a distance from the other troop,
before I should commence to play upon his hide. Stirring my
steed, I galloped forward. Right in my path stood two rhinoce
roses of the white variety, and to these the dogs instantly gave
chase. I followed in the wake of the retreating elephants, trao-

HUNTERS IN SOUTH AFRICA. 105

ing their course by the red dust which they raised and left in
clouds behind them.
" Presently emerging into an open glade, I came full in sight
of the mighty game ; it was a truly glorious sight ; there were
nine or ten of them, which were, with one exception, full-grown,
first-rate bulls, and all of them carried very long, heavy, and
perfect tusks. Their first panic being over, they had reduced
their pace to a free, majestic walk, and they followed one leader
in a long line, exhibiting jin appearance so grand and striking,
that any description, however brilliant, must fail to convey to
the mind of the reader an adequate idea of the reality. Increas
ing my pace, I shot alongside, at the same time riding well out
from the elephants, the better to obtain an inspection of their
tusks. It was a difficult matter to decide which of them I should
select, for every elephant seemed better than his neighbour ; but,
on account of the extraordinary size and beauty of his tusks, I
eventually pitched upon a patriarchal bull, which, as is usual
with the heaviest, brought up the rear. I presently separated
him from his comrades, and endeavoured to drive him in a north
erly direction. There is a peculiar art in driving an elephant in
the particular course which you may fancy, and, simple as it
may seem, it nevertheless requires the hunter to have a tolerable
idea of what he is about. It is widely different from driving in
eland, which also requires judicious riding : if you approach too
near your elephant or shout to him, a furious charge will certain
ly ensue; whilst, on the other hand, if you give him too wide a
berth, the chances are that you will lose him in the jungle,
which, notwithstanding his size, is a very simple matter, and if
once lost sight of, it is more than an even bet that the hunter will
never again obtain a glimpse of him. The ground being favourable,
Klienboy called to me to commence firing, remarking very pru
dently that he was probably making for some jungle of wait-a-bits,
where we might eventually lose him. I continued, however, to
reserve my fire until I had hunted him to what I considered to
be a safe distance from the two old fellows which we had first
discovered.

106 HUNTERS IN SOUTH AFRICA.

" At length closing with him, I dared him to charge, whioh
he instantly did in fine style, and as he pulled up in his career I
yelled to him a note of bold defiance, and cantering alongside, I
again defied him to the combat. It was thus the fight began, and,
the ground being still favourable, I opened a sharp fire upon him,
and in about a quarter of an hour twelve of my bullets were
lodged in his forequarters. He now evinced strong symptoms
of approaching dissolution, and stood catching np the dust with
the point of his trunk and throwing il^jn clouds above and around
him. At such a moment it is extremely dangerous to approach an
elephant on foot, for I have remarked that, although nearly dead,
he can muster strength to make a charge with great impetuosity.
Being anxious to finish him, I dismounted from my steed, and,
availing myself of the cover of a gigantic nwana-tree, whose
diameter was not less than ten feet, I ran up within twenty
yards, and gave it him sharp right and left behind the shoulder.
These two shots wound up the proceeding ; on receiving them
he backed stern foremost into the cover, and then walked slowly
away. I had loaded my rifle, and was putting on the caps, when
I heard him fall over heavily ; but, alas ! .the sound was accom
panied by a sharp crack, which I too well knew, denoted the de
struction of one of his lovely tusks; and on running forward, I
found him lying dead, with the tusk, whieh lay under, snapped
through the middle.
" I did not tarry long for an inspection of the elephant, but,
mounting my horse, I at once set off to follow on the spoor of
the two old fellows whieh the ostrich had alarmed. Fortunately
I fell in with a party of natives, who were on their way to the
waggons with the impedimenta, and assisted by these, I had san
guine hopes of shortly overtaking the noble quarry. We had
not gone far when two wild boars, with enormous tusks, stood
within thirty yards of me, but this was no time to fire, and a lit
tle after a pair of white rhinoceroses stood directly in our path.
Casting my eyes to the right, I beheld within a quarter of a mile
of me a herd of eight or ten cow elephants, with calves, peaceful
ly browsing on a sparely wooded knoll. The spoor we followed

: «,

¦^« . I
S5
J-<?ft*
*>¦
HUNTERS IN SOUTH AFRICA. 109

led due south, and the wind was as fair as it could blow. We
passed between two twin-looking abrupt pyramidal hills, com
posed of huge disjointed blocks of granite, which lay piled above
each other in grand confusion. To the summit of one of these I
ascended with a native, but the forest in advance was so impene
trable that we could see nothing of the game we sought. De
scending from the hillock we resumed the spoor, and were Enabled
to follow at a rapid pace ; the native who led the spooring party
being the best tracker in Bamangwato. I had presently very
great satisfaction to perceive that the elephants had not been
alarmed, their course being strewed with branches which they
had chewed as they slowly fed along. The trackers now became
extremely excited, and strained their eyes on every side in the
momentary expectation of beholding the elephants. At length
we emerged into an open glade, and clearing a grove of thorny
mimosas, we came full in sight of one of them. Cautiously ad
vancing, and looking to my right, I next discovered his comrade,
standing in a thicket of low wait-a-bits, within a hundred and
fifty yards of me ; they were both first-rate old bulls, with enor
mous tusks of great length. I dismounted, and warily approached
the second elephant for a closer inspection of his tusks. As I
drew near he slightly turned his head, and I then perceived that
his farther one was damaged towards the point, while at the same
instant his comrade, raising his head clear of the bush on which
he browsed displayed to my delighted eyes a pair of the most
beautiful and perfect tusks I had ever seen.
" Regaining my horse, I advanced toward this elephant, and
when within forty yards of him he walked slowly on before me
in an open space, his huge ears gently flapping, and entirely
concealing me from his view. Inclining to the left,. I slightly in
creased my pace, and walked past him, within sixty yards, upon
whioh he observed me for the first time; but probably mistaking
" Sunday" for a hartebeest, he continued his course with his eye
upon me, but showed no symptoms of alarm. The natives had
requested me to endeavour, if possible, to hunt him towards the
water, which lay in a northerly direction, and this I resolved to
10

110 HUNTERS IN SOUTH AFRICA.

do. Having advanced a little, I gave him my wind, when ha
waa instantly alarmed and backed into the bushes, holding his
head high and right to me. Thus he stood motionless as a statue,
under the impression probably, that owing to his Lilliputian di
mensions I had failed to observe him, and fancying that I
would pass on without detecting him. I rode slowly on, and
described a semicircle to obtain a shot at his shoulder, and, halt
ing my horse, I fired from the saddle ; he got it in the shoulder-
blade, and, as slowly and silently I continued my course, he still
stood gazing at me in utter astonishment. Bill and Flam were
now slipped by the natives, and in another moment they were
barking around him. I shouted loudly to encourage the dogs
and perplex the elephant, who seemed puzzled to know what to
think of us, and shrilly trumpeting, charged headlong after the
dogs. Retreating, he backed into the thicket, then charged once
more, and made clean away, holding the course I wanted. When I
tried to fire, 'Sunday' was very fidgety, and destroyed the correct
ness of my aim. Approaching the elephant I presently dismount
ed and running in, gave him two fine shots behind the shoulder ;
then the dogs, which were both indifferent ones, ran barking at
him. The consequence was a terrific charge, the dogs at once
making for their master, and bringing the elephant right upon
me. I had no time to gain my saddle, but ran for my life. The
dogs, fortunately, took after ' Sunday,' who, alarmed by the
trumpeting, dashed frantically away. Though in the midst of a
most dangerous affray, I could not help laughing to remark horse,
dogs, and elephant all charging along in a direct line.
" The dogs, having missed their master, held away for Klein-
boy, who had long disappeared I knew not whither. ' Sunday '
stood still, and commenced to graze, while the elephant slowly
passing within a few yards of him, assumed a position under a
tree beside him. Kleinboy presently making his appearance, I
called to him to ride in and bring me my steed, but he refused
and asked me if I wished him to go headlong to destruction
'Sunday' having fed slowly away from the elephant,. I wont up
and he allowed me to recapture him. I now plainly saw that the

HUNTERS IN SOUTH AFRICA. Ill

elephant was dying, but I continued firing to hasten his demise.
Towards the end he took up a position in a dense thorny thicket,
where for a long time he remained. Approaching within twelve
paces, I fired my two last shots, aiming at his left side, close be
hind the shoulder. On receiving these he backed slowly through
the thicket, and, clearing it, walked gently forward about twenty
yards, when he suddenly came down with tremendous violence
right on his broadside. To my intense mortification, the heavy
fall was accompanied by a loud sharp crack, and on going up
I found one of his matchless tusks broken short off by the lip.
This was a glorious day's sport : I had bagged in one afternoon
probably the two finest bull elephants in Bamangwato, and had
it not been for the destruction of their noble trophies, which
were the two finest pair of tusks I had obtained that season, my
triumph on the occasion had been great and unalloyed.
" I was now languid and faint from excessive thirst, and the
nearest water was still very remote. Being joined by the natives
we quickly proceeded to divest the side of the elephant of a large
sheet of the outer skin, when of the under one we constructed a
pair of water-bags, with which two of the natives set out, leading
along with them the dogs and horses; nor did they rejoin us till
after midnight, having lost their reckoning by the way. Their
comrades who were with me, conjecturing the cause of the delay,
requested me to fire signal-shots at intervals throughout the
night, which was the means of their eventually reaching their
destination. At an early hour on the following day, leaving
Kleinboy with the natives to look after the ivory, I set out with
two men to show them where the other elephant lay, and thence
to continue my way to camp.
" I continued hunting to the eastward of Bamangwato until
the 3rd of October, during which time I added four other noble
elephants, besides rhinoceroses and other animals, to my already
satisfactory list of game."
Sir Cornwallis Harris met with many adventures of a thrilling
nature, of which the following may serve as a specimen : —
" On the morning of the 9 th of October, when the wagons had

112 HUNTERS IN SOUTH AFRICA.

started on their way to the Meritsane river our next stage, 1
turned off the. road in pursuit of a group of brindled gnoos, and
presently came upon another which was joined by a third still
larger ; then by a vast herd of zebras, and again by more gnoos,
with sassabes and hartebeests pouring down from every quarter,
until the landscape literally presented the appearance of a moving
mass of game. Their incredible numbers so impeded their pro
gress, that I had no difficulty in closing in with them, dismount
ing as opportunity offered, firing both barrels of my rifle into the
retreating phalanx, and leaving the ground strewed with the
slain. Still unsatisfied, I could not resist the temptation of mix
ing with the fugitives, loading and firing, until my jaded horse
suddenly exhibited symptoms of distress, and shortly afterwards
was unable to move. At this moment I discovered that I had
dropped my pocket compass, and being unwilling to lose so valu
able an ally, I turned loose my steed to graze, and retraced my
steps several miles without success ; the prints of my horse's
hoofs being at length lost in those of the countless herds which
had crossed the plain. Completely absorbed in the chase, I had
retained but an imperfect idea of my locality, but returning to
my horse, I led him in what I believed to be a north-easterly di
rection, knowing from a sketch of the country which had been
given me by our excellent friend, Mr. Moffatt, and which together
with drawing materials, I carried about me, that that course
would eventually bring me to the Meritsane. After dragging
my weary horse nearly the whole of the day, under a burning
sun, my flagging spirits were at length revived by the appearance
of several villages. Under other circumstances I should have
avoided intercourse with their inhospitable inmates, but dyinw
with thirst, I eagerly entered each in succession, and to my inex
pressible astonishment found them deserted ; the same evidence
existing of their having been recently inhabited. I shot a harte
beest, in the hope that the smell of meat would as usual bring
some stragglers to the spot, but no : the keen-sighted vultures,
that were my only attendants, descended in multitudes, but no
woolly-headed negro appeared to dispute the prey. In many of

HUNTERS IN SOUTH AFRICA. 113

the trees I observed large thatched houses resembling hay-stacks,
and under the impression that these had been erected in so sin
gular a position by the natives as a measure of security against
the lions, whose recent tracks I distinguished in every direction,
I ascended more than one in the hope of at least finding some
vessel containing water ; alas ! they proved to be the habitations
of large communities of social grosbeaks, those winged republi
cans, of whose architecture and magnificent edifices, I had till
now entertained a very inadequate conception. Faint and bewil
dered, my prospects began to brighten as the shadows of evening
lengthened ; large troops of ostriches running in one direction
plainly indicated that I was approaching water, and immediately
afterwards I struck into a path impressed with the foot-marks of
women and children, soon arriving at a nearly dry river, whioh,
running east and west, I at once concluded to be that of which I
was in search.
" Those only who have suffered as I did during this day from
prolonged thirst, can form a competent idea of the delight, and,
I may say, energy, afforded me by the first draught of the putrid
waters of the Meritsane. They equally invigorated my exhausted
steed, which I mounted immediately, and cantered up the bank
of the river, in order, if possible, to reach the wagons before
dark. The banks are precipitous, the channels deep, broken,
and rooky, clusters of reeds and long grass indicating those spots
which retain the water during the hot months. It was with no
small difficulty, after crossing the river, that I forced my way
through the broad belt of tangled bushes which margined tho
edge. The moonless night was fast closing round, and my weary
horse again began to droop. The lions, commencing their nightly
prowl, were roaring in all directions, and no friendly fire or bea
con presenting itself to my view, the only alternative was to
bivouac where I was, and to renew my search in the morning.
Kindling a fire, I formed a thick bush into a pretty secure hut,
by cutting away the middle, and closing the entrance with thorns;
and having knee-haltered my horse, to prevent his straying, I
proceeded to dine upon a guinea-fowl that I had killed, comfort-
10*

114 HUNTERS IN SOUTH AFRICA.

iric myself with another draught of aqua pura. The monarcbs
of the forest roared incessantly, and so alarmed my horse that I
was obliged repeatedly to fire my rifle to give him confidence. It
was piercingly cold, and all my fuel being expended, I suffered
as much from the chill, as I had during the day from the scorch
ing heat. About three o'clock, completely overcome by fatigue,
I could keep my eyes open no longer, and commending myself to
the protecting care of Providence, fell into a profound sleep. On
opening my eyes, my first thought was of my horse. I started
from my heathy bed in the hope of finding him where I had last
seen him, but his place was empty. I roamed everywhere in
search of him, and ascended trees which offered a good look out;
but he was nowhere to be seen. It was more than probable that he
had been eaten by lions, and I had almost given up the search in
despair, when I at length found his footmark, and traced him to
a deep hollow near the river, where he was quietly grazing.
The night's rest, if so it could be called, had restored him to
strength, and I pursued my journey along the bank of the river,
which I now crossed opposite to the site of some former scene of
strife, marked by numerous human bones, bleached by exposure.
A little further on I disturbed a large lion, which walked slowly
off, occasionally stopping and looking over his shoulder, as he
deliberately ascended the opposite bank. In half an hour I
reached the end of the jungle, and discovered the wagon road ;
but, as I could detect no recent traces of it, I turned to tbe
southward, and, after riding eight miles in tbe direction of Sick-
lajole, had the satisfaction of perceiving the wagons drawn up
under a large tree in the middle of the plain."

DARING EXPLOIT OF BRITISH SAILORS.

Within the beautiful port of Genoa, lay at anchor a French
frigate of forty-two guns, dressed out in splendid array, with all the
ensigns of the maritime world, to commemorate the anniversary
of the Republic of France : the day was most auspicious — light
airs displayed the flags to the admiring gaze of the distingue ot
Genoa, many of whom crowded the variegated gondolas that
flocked round the frigate, whilst others traversed the Mole from
end to end, praising the equipment of this superb vessel, which
seemed equally adapted for defence and flight ; her tiers of guns,
raised high above the surface of the sea, frowned defiance to all,
whilst her exquisite construction stamped her the fastest sailer
out of France. In the distribution of her flags, it was observed
that a marked preference was given to those of the most favoured
nations of the new Republic ; the stars of the United American
States waved from the fore-royal-mast head, whilst those flags
belonging to Holland and the Italian States, had lofty positions
aim

116 DARING EXPLOIT OF BRITISH SAILORS.

assigned them. In vain did the eye look above her gunwale for
a flag belonging to England, none floated in the breeze ; but, oh,
horror to English eyes !. was seen extended and drooping from the
frigate's head-rails, the glorious ensign of St. George for England.
Here was a sight for Frenchmen to revel in, and here, also, was a
sight that flUed some hundreds of English hearts with indignation,
as they looked from the deck of a British line-of-battle ship rid
ing at anchor in the outer roads.
This ship, the Berwick, Capt. Littlejohn, had lately arrived,
to gain intelligenee of the route taken by the French fleet after
its departure from Toulon, with a considerable armament, under
General Bonaparte. The performance of this duty was soon cut
short by an unlooked-for event; for whilst the captain was pacing
the quarter-deck, his attention became directed to the advance of
a numerous body of his ship's compaiiy, who, in respectful terms
and manner, pointed towards the outrageous insult offered by the
French frigate before their eyes, and humbly asked his permis
sion to proceed in the boats, and tear down the British flag from
its disgraceful position. This application was accompanied by a
shrewd remark by one of the delegates, saying, that although the
French ship was protected by the neutrality of the port, yet that
protection became forfeited by the hostile breach so conspicuously
displayed before the Genoese, in face of a British man-of-war of
seventy-four guiis.
This harangue was, however, stopped by the captain, who,
whilst applauding their attachment to their king and country,
cautioned them to refrain from all violent acts, as measures would
be taken by himself and the English Consul for the immediate
removal of the cause of irritation, in a suitable and dignifled man
ner; he, therefore, on dismissing the delegates, proceeded towards
the shore for the completion of his object.
We will here pause for a moment, and endeavour to describe
the internal state of this ship. Soon after the captain's departure,
the principal officers retired from the quarter-deck, and as noon
was fast approaching, they assembled together in the ward-room,
agreeable to custom, offering up libations to ths rosy god in a

DARING EXPLOIT OF BRITISH SAILORS. 117

style not practised in these more refined times. Whilst thus re
freshing themselves, quietness seemed to reign throughout the
upper decks ; for although much feeling was exhibited by thu
officers on the occasion of the Frenchman's insult, yet no sooner
was the captain gone, than, drinking success to the war, they
became passive on the subject, owing to the reliance they placed
on the known energies of their commander. But far different
was the scene below ; a master spirit, in the person of George
Manson, a Scotch youth (foretop-man) was stirring up for volun
teers to avenge the dishonour cast upon the British navy. Already
fifty of the boldest were busily employed arming themselves with
weapons of every kind ; and all sorts of ammunition especially
twelve-pounder cartridges, and canister-shot, were divided
amongst them, fully determined to carry the French frigate
or perish in the attempt ; their leader also pointed out to each
their several parts, and great stress was laid upon that party
armed with tomahawks to cut away the tackle belonging to the
bow-chasers, on the forecastle on the instant of possession, and
point their muzzles towards the quarter-deck. These premises
being understood, they shook hands with all, and appeared as if
prepared for some chivalrous show instead of a deadly en
counter. At the hour of twelve, three boats floating astern were
hauled close under the fore-chains, thus enabling the undaunted
fifty to pass into them through the port-holes unobserved by the
officers ; and it was not till the desperadoes had reached several
hundred yards on their way, that the officers became aware of
their absence ; consequently, the few shot fired to compel their
return were found perfectly useless and thrown away. And now
all on board were on the lookout for the result ; every telescope
was put in requisition, but not a word escaped the lips of the
anxious crew during the dread interval of the boats passing from
the Berwick to the frigate's buoy; when the silence became
broken by the discharge of a musket from the French sentinel
on the gangway. " They will be cut to pieces," cried a veteran
marine officer. In a few seconds more the boats were alongside

118 DARING EXPLOIT OF BRITISH SAILORS.

under the fore-chains. "They are at it," exclaimed several
voices. Pistol reports, shouts, and loud cries were distinctly
heard from the frigate; whilst the gay multitude on the mole
were seen running about in evident distraction. Another minute
passed, when a loud boom from a great gun on board the frigate
announced to their anxious minds the progress ofthe enterprise;
and in ten minutes from that ominous sound, tho French frigate
was seen under a loosed fore-topsail, and staysail half hoisted,
slowly leaving the port exposed to the fire of the batteries on the
mole : but it was evident to all spectators that the master spirit,
George Manson, derided all their efforts to stop her; and to
crown his extraordinary success, St. George's ensign was seen
at the main towering over the tricolor of France !
" It must be noticed that when the commanding officer of H.
M. S. Berwick found all his efforts ineffectual to recall the fugi
tive boats, he instantly gave orders for hoisting out the launch ;
and as this operation usually takes several minutes, it was scarce
ly afloat when it became necessary to despatch her with a strong
division of officers and men, towards the approaching frigate,
which they soon anchored in safety under the protection of the
Berwick. Thus did the French frigate L' Unite in one short hour be
come a captive to an intrepid band of seamen belonging to the
nation they so wantonly contemned. Even her very flags, (the
cause of the strife,) so gaily waving in the air in regular order
and succession, now lay upon the yards and rigging in wisps and
folds, unseemly to the sight ; whilst her decks were covered with
the blood of dead warriors, who lay scattered about, marked with
ghastly wounds terrific to behold.
It is difficult to describe the ferment which arose in the city
of Genoa on seeing L' Unite in a state of confusion, leaving their
harbour under English' colours. At one period they insisted upon
the detention of Capt. Littlejohn until England had satisfied their
demands consequent upon the violation of the port, according to
the practice of civilized nations ; but that officer had wisely em
barked the moment the fracas was announced, and joined his

DARING EXPLOIT OF BRITISH SAILORS. 119

ship, to the great joy of the British Consul, who advised the de
tention of the French frigate till ho had reported the "catastrophe"
to the commander-in-chief (Earl St. Vincent;) so off sailed the
Berwick and L'Unite from tho Italian shore.s, shaping their
course, under a crowd of sail, for Gibraltar, a,s,slstGd by a fair
wind that not only gave them promise of a short voyage, but
enabled the captain to hold a council witli his officers on an ex
ploit unparalleled in the annals of warfare. The result of this
procedure showed th-dt fifty British seamen, in broad open day,
boarded and, took a French frigate of forty-two guns, and three
hundred and fifty men : all of whom were either killed or driven
overboard, at the sacrifice of thirty-five men killed, and the re
maining fifteen men wounded, who, notwithstanding their severe
hurts, managed to cut the frigate's cable, loose the foretopsail,
and with George Manson at the helm steered out of port, to the
astonishment of the natives.
The arrival of H. M. S. Berwick with L'Unite was hailed
with great joy and commendations by earl St. Vincent. The
frigate was now announced as a prize, and commissioned instanter ;
thus becoming one of the fleet belonging to the command of the
noble earl, who testified his approbation of the gallant deeds of
George Manson and his intrepid followers by giving direction for
their dispersion amongst bis fieet, and on their recovery, to be
brought forward as offioer.s, and cherished thoir hnpos with pro
mises of advancement when they had qualified for the rank of
lieutenant. Here we leave his brethren tars to their fortunes, and keep
only to those of George Mansnn ; accordingly, we find him
equipped in midshipman's uniform by the bounty of his benevo
lent superiors, and aided by the chaplain in acquiring tbe art of
navigation, soon became qualified to pass his examination for a
lieutenant. Thus having passed this ordeal, he received an act
ing order to do duty as lieutenant; whioh duty he faithfully per
formed till his ship was paid off, and then he became of course a
gentleman at large.
Several years had now passed since the affair of taking

120 DARING EXPLOIT OF BRITISH SAILORS.

L'Unite ; he naturally became surprised and uneasy at not receiv
ing his full commission as lieutenant in the navy ; but, having
reached London, he determined upon making application at the
fountain-head. So, entering the admiralty hall with a heart beat
ing high with hopes of preferment, he sent up his card, not doubt
ing but the hall would soon resound with the echoes of his name ;
but hour after hour passed without the least mention of George
Manson. In this state of suspense he stepped towards the
porter, asking him if he was sure he had delivered his card.
" Quite certain," replied Old Bluff; " and what's more, you
may dance attendance here many a day ere you see the Great
Man !"
This was sad news to the young hero, — and too true he
found it ; for not only days, but weeks and months passed away
without the smallest notice being taken of him. At length his
eyes were opened by a kind friend, who whispered the fatal truth
that, however the noble earl St. Vincent might view the affair of
L'Unite at Gibraltar, the principal ministers of government looked
upon it as an untoward act.
" What !" said George Manson, " have they not kept the
French frigate, and do they disavow the captor ? I have got
Lord St. Vincent's promise in my pocket, and am determined to
show it to his lordship, and would do 'so this moment if I could
get at him. However, I will try once more."
So the next day George Manson was seen in close confab
with the porter at the Admiralty; who, moved with compassion
at the recital of his sufferings, and yielding to a persuasive golden
argument practised in those venal times, took our hero's card for
the last time. But vain was the attempt — a positive refusal was
given. This was a thunderbolt to his hopes ! What was to be
done 1 Aye, there was the rub. Most men under similar cir
cumstances, would have done "a deed of dreadful note." Not so
our hero — he was made of sterner stuff — he set about finding out
the day his lordship was to have a party ; and having succeeded
in learning that Earl St. Vincent was to give a grand entertain-

DARING EXPLOIT OF BRITISH SAILORS. 121

ment and ball upon an appointed day, he therefore made prepa
rations for being there also.
Accordingly, he is seen stepping from a carriage, on the
evening in question, at his lordship's residence, dressed as a
lieutenant in full uniform. Up went Lieutenant Manson's name,
and up he wended his way along the crowded staircase, and with
firm step entered the suite of rooms filled by the elite of the town,
and, after some difficulty, which he declared was worse than
boarding the Frenchman, found himself in the presence of the
veteran earl.
"Have you brought despatches, sir?" said the earl.
" No : but I have brought your lordship a letter, which I
now have the honour to present."
" Why, it is from myself I"
" Yes, my lord ; and I am come to receive the fulfilment of
the promise contained therein."
His lordship looked again at the letter, and then, with a
fixed look, said to George Manson, " call sir, at the Admiralty
to-morrow, and there receive your lieutenant's commission !"
The promptness of his lordship's reply fixed George Manson
like a statue. A gush of tears came to his relief, and he was
soon restored to his senses by finding himself pressed on all sides
with congratulations on his well-merited promotion (for the earl
had whispered his history in a few words.) Thus he joined in
the festivities of the evening, and the next day George Manson
was seen, with elastic step and joyful countenance, leaving the
Admiralty with his commission in his pocket, as Lieutenant of
H. M. sloop Moselle, in January, 1805.

TIM.

LIFE IN IRELAND.

On a fine bright August morning, some ten j-ears .since, with
my trusty Manton in my hand, and accompanied by a favourite
setter, I strolled up the mountain, which ovcvbung a friend's
shooting lodge in Connemara. For some time, I w.is tolerably
successful iu mj sport; bird after bird sprang up frnm the heather,
only to find its way into my capacious pockets; and by twelve
o'clock I found I had secured more game than I could well sto^w
away. Cursing my want of forethought, vvhieh had prevented
me from aeceptius the services uf at kujt ono of the dozen lazy
(122)

LIFE IN IRELAND. 128

hangers-on at the lodge, I determined on retracing my footsteps,
with what feelings I leave it to my brother sportsmen to
decide. Fortune, however, had better luck in store for me. I had
not moved ten yards from the spot where I had been
standing, when a thin blue wreath of smoke, curling over the
shoulder of a mountain far away to the right, attracted my atten
tion. Certain, now, of discovering some house where I might
deposit my spoil, and obtain shelter from the heat which was be
coming intense, I drew my .shot-belt tighter around me, and
shouldering my gun, pushed briskly forward — now plunging to
the hips in the tall heather, now threading my way through a
morass — till, after half-an-hour's hard work, I reached a small
low caWn at the top of a narrow glen, and out of the chimney of
which the smoke was pouring in considerable volumes.
I had been long enough in Connemara to more than half
suspect I had come unawares on an illicit still ; indeed the day "
before, I had heard there was one in full operation somewhere in
these mountains, so without farther ceremony than the usual Irish
benediction of ' God save all here' (to which the over-scrupulous
add, 'except the cat,') I pushed open the door and entered the
cabin. A tall, fine-looking girl, whom I immediately recognized as
an old acquaintance, having frequently seen her at the l(^ge, was
seated on a low stool in the centre of the apartment, while a
stout, middle-aged countryman, dressed in a long frieze coat and
knee breeches, but without shoes or stockings, was on his knees
in a comer blowing away with a pair of old bellows at a turf fire,
on which hung what appeared to my uninitiated eyes an immense
pot. My sudden entrance evidently startled him not a little, for,
springing to his feet, he grasped a stout blackthorn stick that lay
beside him, and stared at me for a moment with a countenance
in which fear and rage were curiously blended. Not so the girl.
She rose from her seat and welcomed me to the cabin, with that
gay, frank, and peculiarly Irish hospitality, which, I'll be sworn,

124 LIFE IN IRELAND.

has" gladdened the heart of many a weary sportsman like
myself. " A, thin, bud yer honour's welcome. It's happy and proud
we are to see you. Tim, you unmannerly thief, what are you
starin' for, as if ye seen the ganger ? Don't ye see the master's
frind staudin' foreninst you ? and yer caubeen on your head, ye
amathaun !"
Tim doffed his hat with much reverence. He " axed my
honour's pardon ; but the thievin' gaugera wor gettin' so plenty,
that a poor boy could hardly get done a hand's turn without
havin' them on his tracks."
I looked at the fellow as he spoke. There was none of that bru
tal, debauched look about him which distinguisheB tio Slnglish
law-breaker. On the contrary, he was a very fair specimen of an
Irish peasant ; and, as I examined his honest, manly countenance,
I could not help feeling strong misgi'vings as to the righteousness
of the excise laws. Whether this feeling was caused by the de
licious smell of the 'potheen' that pervaded the room, I leave to
the charitably disposed reader to decide.
Meantime, a bottle filled .[with the aforesaid potheen waa
placed on the table by the girl, and consigning my Manton to a
corner and emptying my pockets on the dresser, I speedily came
to the conclusion that there are worse places than an Irish still-
house for a tired sportsman to rest in.
I had hardly drained the first glass to the health of my fair
hostess, when a little ragged, sunburnt gossoon rushed into the
cabin, and, clasping his hands above his head, broke out into the
most unearthly yell I ever heard.
" Och ! wirr-as-thrue, murder ! — och hone ! och hone ! Save
yourselves for the sake of the blessed Vargin ! We're sowld ! —
the peelers are an us !"
Tim jumped from his seat as he spoke, and, seizing him by
the collar, shook him -violently, — " Who ? what ? — How many is
in it ? Spake, you young reprobate, or, by Jabers, I'll make short
¦work of you !"
" There's two ! — ^bad luck to them I" sobbed out the poor boy.

LIFE IN IRELAND. 125

"They kem round the priest's pass, and were an me afore I could
bless myself."
" Then the devil resave the drop of sparits they '11 seize there
to-day !" said Tim, as his eye fell on my double-barrel that was
leaning against the wall beside me.
" Come, my fine fellow," I cried, " that won't do. I'll do what
I can for you. But you had better not try that."
We had no time for further parley, for the next moment the
heavy tramp of footsteps was heard without, and two revenue
policemen, with fixed bayonets, entered the cabin.
" A purty mornin's work you havo made of it, Misther Con
nolly," said the foremost of the pair, " but a mighty expensive
one, I'm thinkin.' Long threatnin' comes at last. I towld you
I'd be on your thrack afore long, and I've kept my word. Guard
the door Jim, and let no one pass out."
" An' I towld you," said Tim, his face darkening as he spoke
— " I towld you I'd be even wid you for what ye did to poor
Hugh Connor. So pass on your way, and lave me and mine alone,
or it '11 be the worst job ever you put a hand in."
" I must first see what you have on the fire, my good lad," said
the man : " so make way there, in the queen's name."
"It ill becomes the like of ye to have the queen's name in
yer mouth, ye dirty informer," said Tim. " So pass on yer way
— ^I say again — or the divil a bit of this world's bread ever
you '11 eat."
"We'll try that presently," said the policeman, coolly: "Jim,
keep an eye on the girl that she doesn't bolt on ye — she's as
cunnin' as a fox."
So saying, and lowering his carbine, he attempted to pass Tim,
but in doing so, he evidently reckoned without his host, for, with
a shout like a Delaware Indian, Tim sprang within his guard and
seizing him by the collar, in a second both men were rolling over
on the ground, grappling^one another like two bull-dogs.
My hostess, like myself, had hitherto remained an inactive
spectator; but she now evidently determined not to let them
have, all the fun to themselves, for, taking up a pair of heavy
II*

126 LIFE IN IRELAND.

iron tongs, she would soon, no doubt, have made a considerable
diversion in Tim's favour, bad not the other policeman jumped
forward and caught her by the wrist.
" So that's yer game, is it, my lady ? then I'll take the liberty
of fittin' you wid a pair of bracelets," producing at the same
time a pair of hand-cuffs which he attempted to force on
her wrists; but the girl struggled desperately, and, in doing
so, must have irritated him greatly, for the ruffian struck her a
heavy blow with his closed fist.
My blood was now fairly up, and grasping my gun I inserted
the butt-end under the fellow's ribs, and dashed him into the
corner; where his head striking heavily against the sharp edge
of a table, he lay apparently insensible.
" Run for it. Master Harry — never mind Tim — run or you '11
be cotched 1" shouted Mary, as she vanished out of the back
door, while I bolted at the front. The ringing sound of a stick
against the policeman's shako, telling me, as I went, that Tim's
blackthorn was doing its office.
I had got about fifty yards up the mountain, when I turned and
witnessed a sight I shall not easily forget. I have mentioned
before that the cabin was built at the top of a glen, between
two mountains. Down this glen bounded Tim with the speed of
a hunted stag, his long frieze coat streaming in the wind behind
him, while the worm (the only valuable part of the apparatus)
was bobbing up and down over his shoulder, keeping time to the
motion of his bare legs, which were taking the ground along with
them at an awful pace. In front of the cabin was his antagonist
ramming a cartridge down his carbine, with unmistakeable energy,
which the moment he had accomplished, he fired slap after the
caubeen, but the ball only tore up the ground some yards to his
right, and with a yell of triumph I saw Tim disappear round the
corner of the glen.
It was late in the evening, when tired and travel-stained, I
entered the dining-room at the lodge, where I found a large
party assembled.
" Harry, my boy," said my friend, " we had given you up in

LIFE IN IRELAND.

127

despair. Ellen insisted you had fallen over a precipice, or were
drowned in a bog-hole, or something of the kind. You look
tired too," filling me a tumbler of claret as he spoke ; " there,
now, take off that."
I never was remarkable for setting the table in a roar ; but,
on this occasion, if Theodore Hook himself had been relating my
adventure I doubt whether he could have succeeded better than
I did myself, and the old oak ceiling rang again, as my friend
starting up and pointing to a short, punchy, red-faced little man,
said : —
" Let me introduce you to Lieutenant Cassidy, late of H. M's.
88th regiment, and now commander of the Clifden revenue
police "
"And an officer," said the lieutenant, bowing, "who would be
sorry to interfere with any gentleman's diversions, even if he
chose to break the heads of every scoundrel in the squad. The
only thing I would recommend," he added, lowering his voice as
he spoke, " is change of air; after your praiseworthy exertions
this morning, I am sure it would be of service."

AN IRISH PEASANT GIKt.

bVf^

HIGHLWB ^PORT
It Tvas a Soptomlier morning that
wc rode nur pony ( liitiht Glcncli;
from tlie cnuntiv fif his breeding)
to the higlio-^t farm-hou^e in .\hpr-
netli_y, wh'rc wc li ft bim to wait
our re'urn. Two active Lads, ,s(nis
of tho tenant, were delighted to ,'ie-
company us, and we were on our march when the day was still
parly. In th'^sc davs, tbe lower part of the glen of Nethy was
too rank heather for grouse ; and for miles we passed over,
scarcely letting our dogs hunt it. Towards evening we fell
among several guud cuVLys, and had abundance of sport, and
more than the gillies liked to carry, before we struck the waters
(128)

HIGHLANDERS.

P. 128.

HIGHLAND SPORT. 129

that run to the Awn. But our object was other game, and we
were glad to find ourselves getting among the ptarmigan as
night fell. A council was held to deliberate where we should
sleep. We ourselves inclined for the Clach-ean, the shelter-stone
on the rocky bank of Loch Awn. But it was easy to see our
proposal was most distasteful to the natives. It is well enough
known that the shelter-stone is under the peculiar charge of the
fairy people of Glen Awn, who are pretty hospitable when a
shepherd or deer-stalker is driven there by stress of weather, but
will not tolerate any wanton attempt to encroach upon their pro
tection. We have since that time, passed a night there. But
then, the cautious councils prevailed, and our party turned a lit
tle eastward, and made, as it got quite dark, a shealing which
the shepherds of Glen Awn use for a few months in summer,
situated almost at the highest "forking" of Awn, and, so far as we
know, the highest inhabited house that night in Britain. It was
a hut of green sod, with a roof of thin black turf. The walls were
not above three feet high, and one required to enter as you do into
the galleries of the pyramids. Having crept in, we were heartily
welcomed by the shepherds, and after eating our supper together,
(to which they contributed a piece of "mutton" marvellously
like venison,) and when we had reconciled their thin active dogs
to our tired pointers, having a share of the heather in the corner,
we lay down in our plaids round the fire of bog-fir and heather-
roots, which smouldered in the midst of the hovel. The weather
had changed in the course of the night, and one of our party
awoke with a feeling of intense cold. He trimmed the fire, and
threw upon it a bundle of wet heather, which produced at first only
smoke. He had thrust his feet towards the fire, and was again
asleep, when we were aroused by a shout of " fire," and found
on springing up, the roof of the bothy in a light blaze, caught
from the heather thrown on the fire blazing up as it dried. To
rush out was the first impulse. It was snowing, and the roof
was covered with a thin coat of snow, which had no effect in
checking the fire. The burn ran close by, and with our bonnets
we laved up water on the low roof, and soon got the fire extin-

130 HIGHLAND SPORT.

guished, but at the expense of leaving a little lake to fill the
place so lately occupied by our beds. This was uncomfortable
enough, and as we sat under the roof, which still sheltered us
from the snow, longing for daylight, we formed certain vows
against being caught bivouacking again on the " burn of the
Carouries." The night had an end, and we sallied out prepared
to yield to fate and the weather, and to make for the low country,
when the snow suddenly ceased falling. The sun, not yet risen
a,bove our horizon, began to tinge with rose the white cairn of
Cairngorm. Then top after top caught the glow, till the whole
niounta,ins round shone in glorious light. Coming from that
dark smoky cabin, the change was magical. It was perfectly
still : even on the highest cliffs there was not a breath. As we
walked forward, the ptarmigan crowed and rose at our feet.
Taking up our dogs, we began shooting, and had several hours
of very fine sport. The birds when found were generally down
on the white moss beside the little streams that intersect it; but
on being flushed, they took short flights and lighted on the steep
carries, often within sight, so that " mnrking " was of as much
importance as in a day of Norfolk partridge-shooting. In that our
" henchman " excelled, and also in directing our approaches to
the game when marked. It would be a nervous sort of climbing
in other circumstances, but with the game before him, a man
thinks little of the danger, and really incurs less from not think
ing. Before the weather changed, which it did at mid-day, our
bag was well filled. We have seen many a fine day round the
black rocks of Loch Awn and on the side of Cairngorm ; but
that morning rests the brightest in our memory;
It is to the varied sports afforded by this wide region of moor
and mountain, lake and river, that we would now introduce such
of our readers as do not scorn our guidance.
In truth, the superiority of deer-stalking over other sports lies
in its calling forth and putting to the test the highest qualifica
tions of a sportsman. To hope to succeed in it, a man must be
of good constitution, patient of toil, cold, hunger, and all hard
ship, and not to be discouraged by ill-success. He must be ac-

HIGHLAND SPORT. 131

tive and quick of foot ; he must have a keen eye and steady
hand, and unshaken nerves ; but, bringing all these preliminary
qualifications, the young deer-stalker must still further learn to
know the nature of the ground and the habits of the animal ; he
is to contend against the lord of the mountain. The red-deer is
unmatched in strength, and speed, and endurance ; he is very
watchful ; his sight is perfect ; his hearing perfect ; his sense
of smell so acute that it detects the taint of a human enemy on
the wind at the distance of miles. It is against these qualities
and instincts, in a region best suited for their display, the deer
stalker has to match himself; and it is no inglorious triumph
for human reason if he has the superiority. We think the indi
vidual exertion, the perseverance and sagacity, necessary for suc
cess when the devotee goes forth, single-handed, are well shown
in a few pages from a journal of a sportsman to which we have
had access. We have used the liberty of abridging it, but have
neither added nor altered any thing of the sense, and can vouch
for its being literally and wholly true. At the time of the
adventures described, the writer was a very young man, fresh
from a London life ; but he was " come of a good kind," and
took to the rough doings of the mountain life with that hearty
enthusiasm and resolution not to be beat, which we think charac
teristic of Englishmen : —
" Sunday, — This evening, Malcolm, the shepherd of the
shealing at the foot of Benmore, returning from church, reported
his having crossed in the hill a track of a hart of extraordinary
size. He guessed it must be ' the mucklc stag of Benmore,' an
animal that was seldom seen, but had long been the talk and
marvel of the shepherds for its wonderful size and cunning.
They love the marvellous, and in their report ' the muckle stag '
bore a charmed life ; he was unapproachable and invulnerable.
I had heard of him too; and having taken my information,
resolved to adventure to break the charm, though it should cost
me a day or two.
" Monday, — This morning's sunrise saw me with my rifle,
Donald carrying my double barrel, and Bran, on our way up the

132 HIGHLAND SPORT.

glen to the shealing at the foot of Benmore. Donald is a small
wiry old Highlander, somewhat sleepy in appearance, except
when game is in sight, but whose whole figure changes when
a deer comes in view. I must confess, however, he had no heart
for this expedition. He is not addicted to superfluous conversa
tion, but I heard him mutter something of a ' feckless errand —
as good deer nearer hame.' Bran is a favourite ; he is a sort of
lurcher — a cross between a high-bred highland staghound and a
bloodhound ; not extremely fast, but untiring, and of courage to
face any thing on four legs — already the victor in many a bloody
tussle with hart and fox. We held generally up the glen, but
turning and crossing to seek every likely corrie and burn on both
sides. I shot a wild eat, stealing home to its cairn in the early
morning ; and we several times through the day came on deer,
but they were hinds with their calves, and I was bent on higher
game. As night fell, we turned down to the shealing rather
disheartened ; but the shepherd cheered me by assuring me the
hart was still in that district, and describing his track, which he
said was like that of a good heifer. Our spirits were quite
restored by a meal of fresh caught trout, oat-cake and milk, with
a modicum of whiskey, which certainly was of unusual flavoui
and potency.
" Tuesday. — We were off again at daybreak. I must pass
several minor adventures, but one cannot be neglected. Malcolm
went with us to show where he had last seen the track. As we
crossed a long reach of black and broken ground, the flrst ascent
from the valley, two golden eagles rose out of a hollow at some
distance. Their flight was lazy and heavy, as if gorged with
food, and on examining the place we found the carcass of a sheep
half-eaten, one of Malcolm's flock. He vowed vengeance; and,
merely giving us our route, returned for a spade to dig a place
of hiding near enough the carcass to enable him to have a shot
if the eagles should return. We held on our way and the greater
part of the day without any luck to cheer us, my resolution ' not
to be beat' a good deal strengthened by the occasional grumbling
of Donald. Towards afternoon, when we had tired ourselves

HIGHLAND SPORT. 133

with looking at every corrie in that side of the hill with our glasses,
at length, in crossing a bare and boggy piece of ground, Donald
suddenly stopped, with a Gaelic exclamation, and pointed — and
there to be sure, was a full fresh foot-print, the largest mark of
a deer either of us had ever seen. There was no more grumbling.
Both of us were instantly as much on the alert as when we
started on our adventure. We traced the track as long as the
ground would allow. Where we lost it, it seemed to point down
the little burn which soon lost itself to our view in a gorge of
bare rocks. We proceeded now very cautiously, and taking up
our station on a concealed ledge of one of the rocks, began to
search tEF vaUey DeiowTVTOirDtnr-i7dk,eM«.j«»o — JJjsas_^a_large^^.
strewed with huge slabs of stone, and surrounded on all sides but
one with dark damp rocks. At the farther end were two black
lochs, connected by a sluggish stream ; — beside the larger loch,
a bit of coarse grass and rushes, where we could distinguish a
brood of wild ducks swimming in and out. It was difficult
ground to see a deer, if lying ; and I had almost given up seeking,
when Donald's glass became motionless, and he gave a sort of
grunt as he hitched on his belly, without taking the glass from
his eye. ' Ugh ! I'm thinking yen's him, sir : I'm seeing his
horns.' I was at flrst incredulous. " What he showed me close
to the long grass I have mentioned, looked for all the world like
some withered sticks; but the doubt was short. While we gazed,
he rose and commenced feeding; and at last I saw the great hart
of Benmore ! He was a long way off, perhaps a mile and a half,
but in excellent ground for getting at him. Our plan was soon
made. I was to stalk him with the rifle, while Donald, with my
gun and Bran, was to get round out of sight, to the pass by
which the deer was likely to leave the valley. My task was
apparently very easy. After getting down behind the rock, I had
scarcely to stoop my head, but to walk up within shot, so favour
able was the ground and the wind. I walked cautiously, how
ever, and slow, to give Donald time to reach the pass. I was
now within three hundred yards of him, when, as I leant against
a slab of stone, all hid below my eyes, I saw him give a sudden
12

134 HIGHLAND SPORT.

start, stop feeding, and look round suspiciously. What a noble
beast ! what a stretch of antler ! with a mane like a lion ! He
stood for a minute or two snuffing every breath. I could not
guess the cause of his alarm; it was not myself; the light wind
blew fair down from him upon me. I knew Donald would give
him no inkling of his whereabouts. He presently began to
move, and came at a slow trot directly towards me. My pulse
beat high. Another hundred yards forward, and he is mine !
But it was not to be so. He took the top of a steep bank which
commanded my position, and he saw me in an instant, and was
off, at the speed of twenty miles an hour, to a, pa-aa wld^ &«>«•
iiat rrk^«r i>uiia,id was hid. While clattering up the hill, scat
tering the loose stones behind him, two other stags joined him,
who had evidently been put up by Donald, and had given the
alarm to my quarry. It was then that his great size was con
spicuous. I could see with my glass they were full-grown stags,
and with good heads, but they looked like fallow-deer as they
followed him up the crag. I sat down disappointed for the
moment ; and Donald soon joined me, much crest-faUen, and
cursing the stag in a curious variety of Gaelic oaths. Still it
was something to have seen ^the muckle stag,' and nil desperan-
dum was my motto. We had a long and weary walk to Mal
colm's shealing ; and I was glad to get to my heather bed, after
arranging that I should occupy the hut Malcolm had prepared
near the dead sheep next morning.
" Wednesday. — We were up an hour before daylight — and in
a very dark morning I sallied out with Malcolm to take my sta
tion for a shot at the eagles. Many a stumble and slip I made
during our walk, but at last I was left alone fairly ensconced,
and hidden in the hut, which gave me hardly rooin to stand, sit,
or lie. My position was not very comfortable, and the air was
nipping cold just before the break of day. It was still scarcely
grey dawn when a bird, with a slow, flapping flight, passed the
opening of my hut, and lighted out of sight, but near, for I heard
him strike the ground ; and my heart beat faster. What was
my disappointment when his low crowing' croak announced the

HIGHLAND SPORT. 135

raven ! and presently he came in sight, hopping and walking
suspiciously round the sheep, till supposing the coast clear, and
Httle wotting of the double-barrel, he hopped upon the carcass,
and began, with his square cut-and-thrust beak, to dig at the
meat. Another raven soon joined him, and then two more, who,
after a kind of parley, quite intelligible, though in an unknown
tongue, were admitted to their share of the banquet. I was
watching their voracious meal with some interest, when suddenly
they set up a croak of alarm, stopped feeding, and all turned
their knowing-looking eyes in one direction. At that moment I
heard a sharp scream, but very distant. The black party heard
it too, and instantly darted off, alighting again at a little distance..
Next moment, a rushing noise, and a large body passed close to
me ; and the monarch of the clouds lighted at once on the sheep,
with his broad breast not flfteen yards from me. He quietly
folded up his wings, and throwing back his magnificent head,
looked round at the ravens, as if wondering at their impudence
in approaching his#breakfast table. They kept a respectful
silence, and hopped a little further off. The royal bird then
turned his head in my direction, attracted by the change of the
ground which he had just noticed in the dim morning light.
His bright eye that instant caught mine as it glanced along the
barrel. He rose ; as he rose I drew the trigger, and he fell quite
dead half a dozen yards from the sheep. I followed Malcolm's
directions, who had predicted that one eagle would be followed
by a second, and remained quiet, in hopes that his mate was not
within hearing of my shot. The morning was brightening, and
I had not waited many minutes when I saw the other eagle
skimming low over the brow of the hill towards me. She did
not light at once. Her eye caught the change in the ground or
the dead body of her mate, and she wheeled up into the air. I
thought her lost to me, when presently I heard her wings brush
close over my head, and then she went wheeling round and round
above the dead bird, and turning her head downwards to make
out what had happened. At times she stooped so low, I saw the
sparkle of her eye and heard her low complaining cry. I watched

186 HIGHLAND SPORT.

the time when she turned up her wing towards me, and fired,
and dropped her actually on the body of the other. I now rushed
out. The last bird immediately rose to her feet, and stood gaz
ing at me with a reproachful half-threatening look. She would
have done battle, but death was busy with her, and, as I was
loading in haste, she reeled and fell perfectly dead. Eager as I
had been to do the deed, I could not look on the royal birds
without a pang. But such regrets were now too late. Passing
over the Shepherd's rejoicing, and my incredible breakfast, we
must get forward in our own great adventure. Our line of march
to-day was over ground so high that we came repeatedly in the
midst of ptarmigan. On the very summit Bran had a rencontre
Willi ttu uld-na-oTtptoin- fov, ff^nflilogg^ .y&i^ very j£EL±,jn7}ljQm h.o madfi
to bite the dust. We struck at one place the tracks of the three
deer, but of themselves we saw nothing. We kept exploring
corrie after corrie, till night fell ; and as it was in vain to think
of returning to the shealing, which yet was the nearest roof, we
were content to find a sort of niche in the rock, tolerably screened
from all winds ; and having almost filled it with long heather,
flower up, we wrapped our plaids around us, and slept pretty
comfortably. " Thursday. — A dip in the burn below our bivouac renovated
me. I did not observe that Donald followed my example in
that ; but he joined me in a hearty attack on the viands that
still remained in our bag; and we started with renewed courage.
About mid-day we came on a shealing beside a long narrow loch,
fringed with beautiful weeping birches, and there we found means
to cook some grouse I had shot to supply our exhausted larder.
The shepherd, who had ' no Sassenach,' cheered us by his report
of ' the deer ' being lately seen, and describing his usual haunts.
Donald was plainly getting disgusted and home-sick. For my-
^If, I looked upon it as my fate that I must have that hart ; so
on we trudged. Repeatedly that afternoon, -we came on the
fresh tracks of our chase, but again he remained invisible. As
it got dark, the weather suddenly changed, and I was glad
enough to let Donald seek for the bearings of a 'whisky bothie,'

HIGHLAND SPORT. 137

which he had heard of at our last stop. While he was seeking
for it, the rain began to fall heavily, and through the darkness
we were just able to distinguish a dark object, which turned out
to be a horse. ' The lads with the still will not be far off,' said
Donald. And so it turned out. But the rain had increased the
darkness so much, that we should have searched in vain if I had not
distinguished at intervals, between the pelting of the rain and the
heavy rushing of a black burn that ran beside us, what appeared
to me to be the shrill treble of a fiddle. I could scarcely believe
my ears. But when I told my ideas to Donald, whose ears were
less acute, he jumped with joy. 'It's all right enough; just
follow the sound ; it's that drunken deevil, Sandy Ross ; ye'U
never baud a fiddle frae him, nor him frae a whisky-still.' It
was clear the sound came from across the black stream, and it
looked formidable in the dark. However, there was no remedy.
So grasping each the other's collar, and holding the guns high
over head, we dashed in, and staggered through in safety,
though the water was up to my waist, running like a mill-race,
and the bottom was of round slippery stones. Scrambling up
the bank, and following the merry sound, we came to what
seemed a mere hole in the bank, from which it proceeded. The
hole was partially closed hy a door woven of heather ; and look
ing through it, we saw a sight worthy of Teniers. On a barrel
in the midst of the apartment — half hut, half cavern — stood
aloft fiddling with all his might, the identical Sandy Ross, while
round him danced three unkempt savages ; and another figure
was stooping employed over a fire in the corner, where the whisky-
pot was in full operation. The fire, and a stiver or two of lighted
bog-fir, gave light enough to see the whole, for the place was not
above ten feet square. We made our approaches with becoming
caution, and were, it is needless to say, hospitably received ; for
who ever heard of Highland smugglers refusing a welcome to
sportsmen ? We got rest, food, and fire — all that we required —
and something more ; for long after I had betaken me to the dry
heather in the corner, I had disturbed visions of strange orgies
in the bothy, and of my sober Donald exhibiting curious antics
12*

138 HIGHLAND SPORT.

on the top of a tub. These were perhaps productions of a dis
turbed brain ; but there is no doubt that when daylight awoke
me, the smugglers and Donald were all quiet and asleep, far past
my efforts to arouse them, with the exception of one who was
still able to tend the fire under the large black pot.
"Friday. — From the state in which my trusty companion
was, with his head in a heap of ashes, I saw it would serve no
purpose if I were able to wake him. He could be good for no
thing all day. I therefore secured some breakfast and provisions
for the day, (part of them oat-cake, which I baked for myself,)
tied up Bran to wait Donald's restoration, and departed with my
rifle alone. The morning was bright and beautiful, the moun
tain streams overfiowing with last night's rain. I was now
thrown on my own resources, and my own knowledge of the
country, which, to say the truth, was far from minute or exact.
' Benna-skiach ' was my object to day, and the corries which lay
beyond it, where at this season the large harts were said to re
sort. My way at first was dreary enough, over a long slope of
boggy ground, enlivened, however, by a few traces of deer hav
ing crossed, though none of my ' chase.' I at length passed the
slope, and soon topped the ridge, and was repaid for my labour
by a view so beautiful, I sat down to gaze, and I must even now
present it to you, though anxious to get forward. Looking down
into the valley before me, the foreground was a confusion of
rocks of most fantastic shape, shelving rapidly to the edge of a
small blue lake, the opposite shore of which was a beach of
white pebbles, and beyond a stretch of the greenest pasture,
dotted with dropping white-stemmed birches. This little level
was hemmed in on all sides by mountains, ridge above ridge, first
closely covered with purple heath, then more green and broken
by ravines, and ending in sharp serrated peaks tipped with snow.
Nothing moved within range of my vision, and nothing was to be
seen that bespoke life but a solitary heron standing on one leg in
the shallow water at the upper end of the lake. From hence I
took in a good range, but could see no deer. While I lay above
the lake, the day suddenly changed, and heavy wreaths of mist

HIGHLAND SPORT. 139

came down the mountain sides in rapid succession. They reached
me soon, and I was enclosed in an atmosphere through which
I could not see twenty yards. It was very cold too, and I was
obliged to move, though scarcely well knowing whither. I fol
lowed the course of the lake, and afterwards of the stream which
flowed from it, for some time. Now and then a grouse would
rise close to me, and flying a few yards, light again on a hillock,
crowing and croaking at the intruder. The heron, in the dark
ness, came flapping his great wings close past me ; I almost fan
cied I could feel their air. Nothing could be done in such
weather, and I was not sure I might not be going away from my
object. It was getting late too, and I made up my mind that
my most prudent plan was to arrange a bivouac before it became
quite dark. My wallet was empty, except a few crumbs, the
remains of my morning's baking. It was necessary to provide
food; and just as the necessity occurred to me, I heard through
the mist the call of a cock grouse as he lighted close to me. I
contrived to get his head between me and the sky as he was
strutting and croaking on a hillock close at hand ; and aiming at
where his body ought to be, I fired my rifle. On going up to
the place, I found I had not only killed him, but also his mate,
whom I had not seen. It was a commencement of good luck.
Sitting down, I speedily skinned my birds, and took them down
to the burn to wash them before cooking. In crossing a sandy
spot beside the burn, I came upon — could I believe my eyes ?
— ' the Track.' Like Robinson Crusoe in the same circumstances,
I started back, but was speedily at work taking my infor
mations. There were prints enough to show the hart had crossed
at a'walk leisurely. It must have been lately, for it was since
the burn had returned to its natural size, after the last night's
flood. But nothing could be done till morning, so I set about
my cooking ; and having after some time succeeded in lighting a
fire, while njy grouse were slowly broiling, I pulled a quantity
of heather, which I spread in a corner a little protected by an
overhanging rock : I spread my plaid upon it, and over the plaid
built another layer of heather. My supper ended, which was

140 HIGHLAND SPORT.

not epicurean, I crawled into my nest under my plaid, .and was
soon sound asleep. I cannot say my slumbers were unbroken,
Visions of the great stag thundering up the hills with preterna
tural speed, and noises like cannon, (which I have since learnt
to attribute to their true cause — the splitting of fragments of
rock under a sudden change from wet to sharp frost,) and above
all, the constant recurrence of weary struggles through fields of
snow and ice — kept me restless, and at length awoke me to the
consciousness of a brilliant skylight and keen frost — a change
that rejoiced me in spite of the cold.
" Saturday. — Need I say my first object was to go down and
examine the track anew. There was no mistake. It was impossi
ble to doubt that ' the muckle hart of Benmore ' had actually
walked through that burn a few hours before me, and in the
same direction. I followed the direction of the track, and
breasted the opposite hill. Looking round from its summit, it
appeared to me a familiar scene, and on considering a moment, I
found I overlooked from a different quarter the very rocky plain
and two black lochs where I had seen my chase three days before.
I had not gazed many minutes when I made sure I distinguished
a deer lying on a black hillock quite open. I was down imme
diately, and with my glass made out at once the object of all my
wanderings. My joy was soniewhat abated by his position,
which was not easily approachable. My first object, however,
was to withdraw myself out of his sight, which I did by crawling
backwards down a little bank till only the tops of his horns were
visible, which served to show me he continued still. As he lay
Ipoking towards me, he commanded with his eye three-fourths
of the circle, and the other quarter, where one might have got in
upon him under cover of the little hillock, was unsafe from the
wind blowing in that direction. A burn ran between him and
me, one turn of which seemed to come within two hundred yards
of him. It was my only chance, so, retreating about half a mile,
I got into the burn in hidden ground, and then crept up its chan
nel with such caution that I never allowed myself a sight of more
than the tips of his horns, till I had reached the nearest bend to

HIGHLAND SPORT. 141

him. There, looking through a tuft of rushes, I had a perfect
view of the noble animal, lying on the open hillock, lazily
stretched out at length, and only moving now and then to scratch
his flank with his horn. I watched him fully an hour, the water
up to my knees all the time. At length he stirred, gathered his
legs together, and arose; and arching his back, he stretched
himself just as a bullock does, rising from his night's lair. My
heart throbbed, as turning all round he seemed to try the wind
for his security, and then walked straight to the burn at a point
about one hundred and fifty yards from me. I was much tempted,
but had resolution to reserve my fire, reflecting I had but one
barrel. He went into the burn at a deep pool, and standing in
it up to his knees, took a long drink. I stooped to put on a new
copper cap and prick the nipple of my rifle, and — on looking up
again he was gone ! I was in despair, and was even about mov
ing rashly, when I saw his horns again appear a little farther off,
but not more than fifty yards from the burn. By-and-by they
lowered, and I judged he was lying down. " You are mine at
last," I said, and I crept cautiously up the bed of the burn till I
was opposite where he had lain down. I carefully and inch by
inch placed my rifle over the bank of the burn, and then ventured
to look along it. I could see only his horns, but within an easy
shot. I was afraid to move higher up the bed of the burn,
where I could have seen his body ; the direction of the ^ind
made that dangerous. I took breath for a moment and screwed
up my nerves, and then with my cocked rifle at my shoulder and
my finger on the trigger, I kicked a stone which splashed into
the water. He started up instantly, but exposed only his front
towards me. Still he was very near, scarcely fifty yards, and I
fired at his throat just where it joins the bead. He dropped <m
his knees to my shot, but was up again in a moment and went
staggering up the hill. Oh, for one hour of Bran ! Although
the deer kept a mad pace, I saw he was soon too weak for the
hill, and he swerved and turned back to the burn, and came
headlong down within ten yards of me, tumbling into it appa
rently dead. Feeling confident, from the place where my ball

142 HIGHLAND SPORT.

had taken effect, that he was dead, I threw down my rifle and
went up to the deer with my hunting-knife. I found him
stretched out, and as I thought dying, and I laid hold of his
horns to raise his head to bleed him. I had scarcely touched him
when he sprang up, fiinging me backwards on the stones. It
was an awkward position. I was stunned by ihe violent fall;
behind me was a steep bank of seven or eight feet high ; before
me the bleeding stag with his horns levelled at me, and cutting
me off from my rifie. In desperation I moved, when he instantly
charged, but fortunately tumbled ere he quite reached me. Ha
drew back again like a ram about to butt, and then stood still
with his head lowered, and his eyes bloody and swelled, glaring
upon me. His mane and all his coat were dripping with blood
and water, and as he now and then tossed his head with an angry
snort he looked like some savage beast of prey. We stood mutu
ally at bay for some time, till I, recovering myself, jumped out
of the burn so suddenly, that he had not time to run at me, and
from the bank above, I dashed my plaid over his head and eyes,
and threw myself upon him. I cannot account for my folly, and
it had nearly cost me dear. The poor beast struggled despe
rately, and his remaining strength foiled me in every attempt to
stab him forwards, and he at length made off, tumbling me down,
but carrying with him a stab in the leg that lamed him. I ran
ana picked up my rifle, and then kept him in view as he rushed
down the burn on three legs towards the loch. He took the water
and stood at bay up to his chest in it. When he halted, I com
menced loading my rifle, when to my dismay I found that all the
remaining balls I had were for my double-barrel, and were ^ size
too large for my rifle. I sat down and commenced scraping one
to the right size, an operation that seemed interminable. At
last I succeeded ; and having loaded, the poor stag remaining
perfectly still, I went up within twenty yards of him, and shot
him through the head. He turned over and floated, perfectly
dead. I waded in and floated him ashore, and then had leisure
to look at my wounds and bruises of the fight, which were not
serious, except my shinbone, scraped from ankle to knee with

HIGHLAND SPORT.

143

the horn. I soon cleaned my quarry and stowed him as safely as
I could, and then turned down the glen at a gay pace. I found
Donald with Bran reposing at Malcolm's shealing ; and for all
reproaches on his misconduct, I was satisfied with sending him
in person to bring home the ' Muckle hart of Benmore,' a duty
which he successfully performed before night-falL"

HIGHLAND COSTUME.

THE WILD BOAR AND THE WELSHMAN.
Evan ap Hugh,* an ancient Briton, from North Wales, had a
mind to travel for edification ; and willing to see the politest part
of the world, he bent his mind for France. Now, we should
observe, that- there is a place in that kingdom called Brittany,
which, in some parts of it, as historians do affirm, is to this day
inhabited by no other kind of people but ancient Britons, as the
Welsh do always term themselves ; and that it was a place of
refuge given them in former ages, when they were put to flight
by their too powerful enemies, the English ; and, therefore, it is
said, the place takes its name from them.
When our traveller was landed upon the French shore, though
I know not at what part of it, he inquired, in the best manner he
could, (for he knew not a word of French,) '' which was bur way
to Brittany ?" And at last, whether he was directed that way
by any that understood him, or whether chance had brought him
there, is of no great consequence either to the reader or to the
story ; but so it was, by some means or other, that he got into a
great forest, belonging to the French King, where he often took
the diversion and exercise of hunting the wild boars. And there
they were bred and kept for that purpose.
Now it happened, that, as the Welshman was wandering
through this forest, he all of a sudden was surprised with a terri
ble noise and mighty rustling among the leaves, when, looking
round to see from whence it came, he saw a monstrous wild boar
come running towards him, and foaming at the mouth like a mad
thing. Seeing the fierce boar thus suddenly, the poor Welshman, in
some despair, began to look out sharply for some place, if possi
ble, to shelter him in ; and as Providence was pleased to order
it, there happened just by him to be a hermit's cave, void of and in-
(144)

THE WILD BOAR AND THE WELSHMAN. 145

habitants; and the Welshman to his great joy, seeing the door
half open, runs directly therein, and gets behind it, thinking
himself perfectly secure : but he was no sooner got into the cave
than the foaming boar rushed in after him. The Welshman
finding the boar pursued him into the cave, instantly turned short
out of it, and with a presence of mind and motion as quick as
lightning, pulled the door as hard as he could after him ; and the
enraged boar, turning about also to follow him, ran full butt
against the door, and which, sticking a little before, he made it
now quite fast, for the more he pushed against it, the faster it
was. But the poor Welshman, having as yet not recovered from
his fright, he had not the power to leave the place ; but there he
stood, all over in a trembling sweat. In two or three minutes,
or less, up came the French king and his attendants ; for the
boar that was now shut up in the cave was one which the king
and his nobles had pursued in a chase, and which had a littlo
outrun them. The dogs, directed by their noses, immediately
made up to the door where he was enclosed, but it stuck so fast,
that their weight could not open it ; so one of the king's attend-
ants came up to the Welshman, and demanded in French, if he
had not seen a wild boar run that way ; but the Welshman
answered in broken English, that he did not understand him.
One of the nobles, who understood English very well, asked him
in that language if he had not seen a wild boar pass by him a few
minutes before. " I do not know what is a wild poar," replied
the Welshman, " not I; put, indeed, here was a little shaky pig
come up to me in a great passion and fury, look you, and it was
going to pite me ; put I was take bur by bur tail, and throw bur
into that house, look you, and I believe bur was there now."
The king,. who understood but little English, demanded an expla
nation of what the Welshman said ; and the nobleman told his
majesty, that he said he did not know what a wild boar was, but
that there was a jack-pig came up to him, and was going to bile
him, but he took him by the tail, and put him into that house.
" Now, please your majesty, what they call a jack-pig in some
^arts of England, is a little sucking pig ; so that I should think
13

146 THE WILD BOAR AND THE WELSHMAN.

it could never be the wild boar he has put in there." " No,
no," replied the king, "to be sure it cannot; but, however,
whatever it- is that he has put in there, order him to fetch it out
immediately." So the aforesaid nobleman told the Welshman,
that it was his majesty's pleasure that he should fetch this little
jack-pig out of the house, that he might see it. But the Welsh
man not caring for the task, answered him again, "Not I; if bur
was want bur out, bur may fetch bur out again hurself, if bur
will; for I was not like to meddle with bur any more, look you."
Here the nobleman told his majesty what the Welshman said,
and at the same time insinuated to his majesty, that he was but
a poor ignorant fellow, and that he had very little faith in what
he related. So the king ordered the spearman who attended him
in the chase, to force the door open ; which they did immediately,
and out came the boar with the utmost fury, when the dogs fell
instantly upon him, and the sport was renewed ; but the king was
so amazed at what had happened about the Welshman's putting
the wild boar into the cave by the tail, that he could not quit
the place for some time. Said he, to his attendants, " we thought
it impossible for this stranger to put such a creature into that
cave, and shut the door upon him, as he said he had done, but
you find it so. How came he in and the door shut, else ? It
was not five minutes before that we saw the creature before us ;
and this man, you all saw, was there by himself. How it could
be otherwise, I own to me is amazing ! I desire my lord," con
tinued he to the nobleman who was their interpreter, " that you
take care that I see this wonder of a man to-morrow." So the
king rode in pursuit of his sport ; and the nobleman, according
to his majesty's command, staid with the Welshman to give him
directions where he should come to him the next day, in order to
his being introduced to the king and court. Accordingly, the
Welshman came, and the nobleman carried him immediately to
his majesty, who, when he demanded a farther account from him
concerning the wild boar, the Welshman told him the very same
story, without variation. Then his majesty asked him what re
ligion he was of, but the Welshman could give him very little

MtlWo> w
¦a !z!H3

THE WILD BOAR AND THE WELSHMAN. 149

account of that. He was very much pleased at the fine appear
ance of the gens d'armes, or life guards, and told his majesty,
that " if he would give him a horse, and make him one of
those fine folks, he should be obliged to bur." At this the king
was a little surprised, that he asked for nothing better; but,
however, he gave orders that he should be immediately equipped.
And he was no sooner initiated into the corps, but all the French
men therein wished him any where else, and contracted a mighty
mixture of fear and hatred for him ; for not a man in the troop
dared to contradict him.
The story of his putting the wild boar into the cave, was suffi
cient to intimidate the boldest of them. At length, the Welsh
man having been a kind of lawgiver amongst them a great while
without the least interruption, they now began to scheme and
form a plot against him, in order, if possible, to lower his mettle.
So they went privately through the corps and raised by subscrip
tion, a purse of a thousand livres for any man that would chal
lenge and fight him at any weapon ; and five hundred more he
was to have if he conquered. But none would undertake to do
it for a great while ; at last, a very good swordsman, and one
who kept a fencing school, undertook to challenge him ; and, in
order to give him a public correction, they got leave from
their commander, who was obliged to ask it of the king (for the
Welshman was a great favourite of his majesty) for the honour
of France, to make a pitched and public battle of it. When the
Welshman received the challenge, and found that his honour,
his place, and every thing of value, lay at stake, and every thing
depended upon his success in this disagreeble engagement, he
began to scheme all the ways he could think on to accomplish
his safety and escape, and at last he resolves as follows : —
The day for this bloody battle being fixed for the morrow, at
eight o'clock in the morning, the Welshman determined not to
stir from home till a full quarter after, and until several messen
gers had come in quest of him, for the good natured Frenchmen
were in great eagerness to have him despatched. But Taffy hav
ing staid in his apartment as long as he thought proper, (either
13*

150 THE WILD BOAR AND THE WELSHMAN.

plotting or praying,) he bundled up a rusty old sword and a
pick-axe, and away he trudges to the place appointed. There he
found his antagonist ready stript, and exercising with another
master, to put his hand in against he engaged; and whole multi
tudes of people were assembled to see this bloody encounter,
which was expected to be the most worthy of observation of any
single combat that ever had been fought in that kingdom. As
soon as the Welshman came to the place appointed, they all began
to reproach him with a general voice for overstaying his time ;
and his antagonist, whose spirits were supported and kept up by
the encouragement of his friends, brandished his sword, and with
great eagerness challenged him to the combat. At which the
Welshman carelessly replied, " Don't put yourself into passions;
you shall find, look you, that I am come time enough for you
presently." So, throwing down his bundle, and after pulling
off his clothes very deliberately, instead of his sword he takes his
spade in his hand, and looking several times very earnestly at his
antagonist, he makes a mark upon the turf like a grave, and then
began to dig and throw the earth out of it, and to pick with his
pick-axe, and to work as hard as he was able. At length, the
Frenchman, who stood vapouring and ready to engage with him,
demanded with some contempt, what he was about and why he
did not come and answer his challenge. " Ay, ay," quoth the
Welshman, " you are in a plaguy hurry, look you ; but, I pray
you, don't trouble yourself any more about it; I shall be time
enough for you presently. But I will not come till I have done
what I am about ; for, as I am a shentleman and a Christian
man, and every thing else in the worlt, I have never kilt a man
in my whole life, but I have bury him." " Ha ! vat is dat he
say ?" quoth the Frenchman ; " I varrant he has killed ten
thousand men in his life ; else, he would never take de trouble to
make dis grave for me ! But I vill not stay to be killed !" As
soon as the Frenchman saw the Welshman's eyes turned another
way, he set out full drive, and ran with all the force and speed
he was master of. And as soon as he was got far enough off, the
Welshman, who with great joy saw him set out, now holding up

THE WILD BOAR AND THE WELSHMAN.

151

his head, and seeing him, as if by accident, running away, catches
up his sword, and starting after him, calls out as loud as he could,
" Plood and oons ! does bur run away at last, like a fillian ? I
pray you, stop bur 1 stop bur ! and pring bur pack again to bur
crave, look you I" But all attempts were used in vain ; he never
stopt till he was got off, nor was he heard of till some time after.
And thus the Welshman saved both his life and credit ; for no
Frenchman in the whole kingdom, from that hour, dared to chal
lenge him ever after.
This Welshman was worthy to have been descended from
those brave old w«rthies, the ancient bards of Wales, who fell a
sacrifice to the cruel policy of the English Edward.

ANCIENT BAED OP WALES.

THE LAST OF THE CONTRABANDIERI
It was Saturday afternoon, the hour of vespers at Bedonia, in
the Val di Taro. The service had already commenced, and not
a soul was to be seen out of church. A stream of female voices
gushed out of the open windows of the choir. Outside, not a
sound, not a living object astir. It was a scene of ineffable calm
ness and silence. Only near the portals an instrument of destruc
tion was leaning against the wall, — it was the redoubted carbine
of Paul Moro, the last of the bandits of the Appenines.
The bandit himself, as we have seen, with a reward on his
head, does not believe himself exempt from attending church
service, and the carbine of Paul Moro, clearly announced the
presence of its owner among the pious flock of the parish of
Bedonia. The mountaineers of the upper districts of the Val di Taro, no
matter what may otherwise be the condition of Italy — are an in
dependent race. They are the same stubborn people against whom
the rage of the victorious French armies, under the guidance of
the bloody Junot, had for many years to struggle with dubious
success ; and although brought to allegiance after the Restoration,
they are still virtually at war against all governments; and gend
armes, gangers, or excisemen, seldom venture with impunity with
in the stronghold of their mountain fastnesses. Too poor for tax
ation, too testy and stubborn for military service, the government
of Parma would hardly deem it worth while to interfere with them
in any manner, and would gladly leave them to tbe rule of their
priests, and their traditional, clan-like, social compact, were it
not for the alarming extent to which they carry on their contra
band trade.
Placed on the confine between the Tuscan, Sardinian, Mode-
(152)

JUNOT.

THE LAST OF THE CONTRABANDIERI. 155

nese, Parmesan, and Lucchese states, every highlander of that
district is at heart a smuggler. Naturally a people of the most
peaceable disposition, frank, patriarchal, hospitable, as the Arabs
of the desert, they are only induced to take arms for the vindica
tion of what they consider their inalienable right of free trade.
The Italian governments have, in their improvidence, laid the
heaviest duties on salt, tobacco, gunpowder, and other articles of
the same description, and raised toll-gates and custom-offices, at
every corner of their Lilliputian states. To evade the exactions,
and to baffle the vigilance of the officers, to convey the forbidden
articles from one state to another, to counteract the mean spirit
of monopoly on the part of the governments, and establish a kind
of unlawful Zollverein throughout the country, is the main occu
pation, the dearest object, the pride of the Val-tarese. Whoever
defrauds the revenue by clandestine smuggling is held a clever
man and a worthy one ; but whoever carries on the contraband
in full daylight, by main force, in the very teeth of an armed
authority, is looked upon as a hero.
Of this latter description, there never had been, from time im
memorial, a more daring pattern than the one who was now at
tending vespers in the parish church at Bedonia.
Paul Moro was notorious throughout central Italy. He owned
a score of mules of the best Genoese breed. A hundred moun
taineers were ever ready at his beck to join his band for any
desperate enterprise. He entertained a wide correspondence
with masters of smuggling vessels in Corsica and Port Mahon.
At the head of his trusty outlaws, he would ride on a flue moon
light night to some desert spot on the Riviera of Genoa. Bales
from Havana or Virginia would pass from the hold of a tempest-
tossed schooner to the backs of his sure-footed cattle. Then
making straight for La Cisa, or Mount Cento Croci, the mighty
caravan travelled day and night, without intermission, on the
main road, announced at a considerable distance by the hundred
bells jingling at the necks of its gaily caparisoned mules ; till on
its arrival at the toll-house on the borders, the reckless chieftain
would march forward alone, and knocking lustily at the bolted

156 THE LAST OF THE CONTRABANDIERI.

door with the butt-end of his rifle, tauntingly call out to the
trembling ganger within to come out and smoke one of his best
Havanas with him.
Strong bodies of gendarmes and even detachments of regu
lar soldiery had been posted at those often violated stations.
Ambush and military stratagem had been resorted to. Combined
manoeuvres had been planned by the officers of different govern
ments to circumvent and surprise the lawless band in its roving
expeditions. The consequences had been bloody affrays, from
which the contrabandist had invariably come off with signal suc
cess. His perfect knowledge of every inch of ground, his cool
intrepidity, the consummate discipline in which men and beasts
in his suite were trained, and the unerring aim of his rifles
enabled him to withstand the attack of widely superior forces.
Entrenched behind their heavy loaded mules, the smugglers could
at any time improvise a :fi)rtified camp, even where the bare rocks
or the level heath offered no better shelter, and there was no in
stance on record of any of the band, dead or alive, or of any part
of the cargo, being suffered to fall into the hands of the enemy.
By degrees, the suddenness of his movements, the impetuosity
of his onset, and the ruthlessness of his executions, (for no quar
ter was given on the battle-field,) had completely demoralized all
his opponents, and the name alone of Paul Moro had power to
disband a whole regiment in sheer panic consternation.
It must not, however, be supposed that personal bravery or
strategic abilities could alone have raised him to such a formida
ble extent of power. The secret of this long career of success
lay in the popularity of his character and pursuits. In a land of
smugglers he was the king of smugglers. He was a personifica
tion of the spirit of the wild population among whom lay the
scene of his exploits. He was the life and soul of that " free
trade," by which alone Val-di-Taro could flourish and thrive. No
one had ever carried it on with such open defiance, with such en
larged views, with such systematic perseverance, with such con
stant prosperity. Every man felt that contraband had been

THE LAST OF THE CONTRABANDIERI. 157

nothing before hira, and no one could say what it might become
without him.
Every inhabitant of the district, therefore, watched the life of
Paul Moro with all the zeal and activity of self-preservation.
Every herdsman on the hills, every fisher in the streams, would
have walked a hundred miles to convey him timely information
of the presence of an enemy ; every labourer in the field, every
charcoal-burner in the woods, would have forsworn himself a
thousand times to mislead and bewilder his pursuers. A party
of Red Indians on their war-path do not display half the inven
tive powers employed by those mountaineers to secure their
champion against any chance of surprise. Flags by day, fires by
night, broken twigs in the forest, signals and sounds without
number, constituted the language by which those volunteering
spies and auxiliaries communicated with the band on every stage
of its march. The whole region, indeed, seemed organized into
a kind of Providence hovering with paternal solicitude on the
progress of its venturous children, so readily and so seasonably
every crag and thicket seemed to produce a bare-footed messen
ger, breathless with the momentous tidings it was his good fortune
to bear.
It was then rather as an ornament than for any expectation of its
being pressed into service, that Paul Moro's carbine was left in
waiting at the church door of Bedonia. Indeed, were even an
assault meditated in any other part of the country,, against any
malefactor, the sacredness of the house of worship would, in any
instance, screen him from danger ; the women and children, and
the very parish priest himself would, under such circumstances,
turn out and fight for his defence.
The carbine, however, was there. That weapon had its ample
share of its owner's reputation. It was a long-barrelled, silver-
mounted rifle, the like of whioh is not easily to be met with in
the civilized world. Tbe moors of Abd-El-Kader and the guer-
rilleros of Cabrera might be so equipped for war ; but in any
other country, old-fashioned instruments like that are laid down
as mere curiosities of ancient armoury. Paul Moro would not
14

158 THE LAST OF THE CONTRABANDIERI.

have exchanged his rifle against the best of Manton's master
pieces. The barrel bore the name of its maker, Lazzarino Comi-
nazzo, an armourer who flourished in Italy long before the
renowned Spanish foundries attained their ascendency. It was
soft and smooth as velvet, and it seemed as if time and rust
could never impair its rich brown, or affect the rings of its snake
like damaskeening. The stock, or at least its curious inlayings,
were of more recent workmanship — most probably renewed accord
ing to the taste of its successive owners, the names of several of
which were engraven on silver plates near the lock. The fame of
all those owners lived in the wildest traditions of the country,
and in the hands of each of them, as well as in those of
its present possessor, " La Lazzarina," as the rifle was called,
had performed such prodigies, as could hardly be expected of
a barrel merely cast in mortal forges, and tempered by human
contrivance. Meanwhile, the elevation of the Host had closed the ceremo
nies of the evening service. As the last tinkling of the bell died
off, a faint rush was heard, announcing the rising of the congre
gation from their kneeling posture. Presently, bareheaded,
silent, and with downcast eyes, they began to issue from tJie
church, and after crossing the little church-yard they all heaved
a sigh, as they found tiiemselves in the open air, as if glad to be
relieved from tbe long constraint of overwrought devotion. The
old people tarried awhile on the threshold to escort their beloved
pastor to his dwelling, but the more impatient members of the
new generation filed off in a bustle, and paired off in different
directions, engaged in genial conversation.
Paul Moro was among the first to leave the church ; he shoul
dered his piece with unaffected carelcssnesfi, and a few steps
brought hira by the side of the loveliest creature in Val-di-Taro.
Theywere .i reniaikahlr! pair, and formed rather a pleasing
contrast. The contrabandist was tall, dark, athletic. He was in
hig thirtieth year ; the hue of exuberant health glowed on his
bronzed cheek. No trace was on his look of the violent life he
led. He had a manly, open, and cheerful countenance, expres-

THE LAST OF THE CONTRABANDIERI. 159

sive of all that gentleness and benevolence which is inseparable
from genuine valour.
His companion had the complexion of an angel ; somewhat
pale, perhaps, but dazzlingly fair. Her eyes were deep blue,
and locks of the purest gold fell on a neck and shoulders of un
blemished whiteness. She had an exquisite cast of features,
animated by an expression of consummate archness. Her eyes
beamed with an intelligence and energy which might appear
somewhat premature and unfeminine. She was aged eighteen,
and her name was Maria Stella.
There was an awful story connected with the birth of that an
gular girl. Her mother, a milk-maid of the neighbourhood of
Borgotaro, had fallen in with a party of marauders from some
of the invading armies of the allies in 1814 ; whether Cossacks
or Croats, it was never satisfactorily ascertained. She remained
with them three days, after whioh she succeeded in effecting hier
escape. She repaired to her mother's home, haggard, dishevelled,
in a state of raving insanity ; and continued a helpless maniac
for nine months, at the end of which period she was delivwed of a
daughter, and died in giving her birth. The child was christened
Maria Stella.
The miserable orphan was brought up by her grandmother, an
indigent widow, who was her nearest relative. In her infancy,
Maria Stella was removed to Bedonia, where she had grown up
unconscious of her origin. Her aged relative and guardian had
done all in her power to spoil her. Indulged in all her childi^
whims, and early made aware of the charms of her person, she
had become as arrant a coquette as those innocent mountains
had ever beheld. Paul Moro, to whose liberalities her grand
mother was indebted for her subsistence, had centred all his
thoughts on that blooming girl. He was not, indeed, blind to
the waywardness and wantonness of her disposition; but he attri
buted it to the natural buoyancy of her age. In his native
honesty and singlemindedness the good contrabandist was far
from penetrating to the depth, and estimating to its full extent a
character whioh seemed, in fact, as yet hardly developed, and

160 THE LAST OF THE CONTRABANDIERI.

which was too easily concealed under the appearances of girlish
petulance and self-will.
" It is a lovely evening," observed Maria Stella, as she drew
down her veletta on her brow,* and spread her rustic fan to screen
her face from the rays of the setting sun, well-knowing at what
a high premium her snow-white complexion was in that southern
climate ; " we will have a stroll on tbe Pelpi, and come back by
moonlight." "And what," asked Paul, "is to become of your grandma' all
the while?"
" Oh, Nonna knows very well how to take care of herself,"
said the girl pettishly. " She will be telling her beads till bed
time. Amusing, is it not ? I wish you would go and keep her
company. I can find my way very well without you — and, by
the by, you are not going to take that rusty old scare-crow with
you," she said, tapping contemptuously with bor fan on the bar
rel of the rifle, till it rang again like a silver bell.
" Why," said Paul, " I never knew you object to Lazzarina
before." "But I tell you I won't have it:" insisted the spoiled beauty;
then pointing to a countryman that met them on the road —
"there comes Bonagiunta, the cowherd, in good time," she said,
"Trust it with him. Now then make up your mind : you part
with your gun, or you part with me."
"Be on your guard, Paul Moro," whispered the rustic, walk
ing up to the contrabandist. "I have just come from Compiano.
The garrison has received a reinforcement of dragoons from
Borgotaro. Captain Scotti is with them. Be on the look out, I
tell ye. Mark my words, they are after no good."
" The dragoons are loth to cross my path, Bonagiunta," said
Paul, coolly. ' " As for Captain Scotti, there are old scores to
settle between us. I have spared him twice. It is for him to

* A picturesque head-gear used by the peasant gu:ls in several mountainous
districts in Italy, and consisting of a square top laid obliquely on the crown
of the head, with wide folds falling gracefully on both sides and behind.

THE LAST OF THE CONTRABANDIERI. 161

beware. But what ails thee, wench !" he said, turning suddenly
to Maria Stella. " You look pale ; fear not, my child ; they will
•not interfere with us, and if they do, why Lazzarina is a friend
in need. Now, you see, we can't very well dispense with it."
The girl bit her lips. The two betrothed continued their walk,
the smuggler glancing occasionally at the road before him, the
girl with her eyes on the ground ; both silent. The path wound
athwart the Pelpi, a vast extent of meagre pasture ground, slop
ing boldly to the river, all bare and bleak, without one bush to
break its monotonous nudity. After an extent of above three
miles the coast broke into a narrow glen, beyond which there
arose a lofty forest of old chestnut trees, spreading on a wide ex
tent of land as far as the ancient fortress of Compiano. Here
was the foremost station of civilized life. That castle, which. was
also a prison of state, was tenanted by a thin garrison, occasion
ally strengthened by a body of gendarmes, or as they are there
named, dragoons. Further down the broad valley is situated
the town of Borgotaro, the little metropolis of the whole district.
In the centre of the above-mentioned glen, and about half-way
between Compiano and the village of Bedonia, embosomed in a
cluster of luxuriant trees, was a chapel dedicated to St. Mary.
The shrine stood still and solitary, venerable with age, awful
with its unbroken silence and gloom.
By the time the two lovers had arrived in sight of the chapel,
the girl had rallied her spirits, damped, as her lover thought, by
the announcement of danger, however remote ; she walked by
the side of her protector, skipping and bounding like a very child,
railing and teazing him in her desultory conversation.
" But, my dear child — " remonstrated Paul.
" But, dear papa, this evening I am in the humour for a very,
very long walk ; we will go at least, as far as St. Mary's."
"But child," insisted the contrabandist, "you'll hardly be
back at midnight."
"Well, and what of it? Are you afraid of being with me
alone in the dark, or — on my word, I believe you are afraid of
ghosts : they do say, indeed, the old chapel is haunted."
14*

162 THE LAST OF THE CONTRABANDIERI.

" Afraid ?" said Paul, without swaggering; " I should be
sorry to believe that I am afraid of any man, alive or dead."
" You do believe in ghosts, though ?"
" And why should I not?" replied the brave man in the sim
plicity of his heart. "Am I not a man and a Christian ? Is
not the soul immortal and God omnipotent ? But I fear them
not ; an uneasy conscience needs alone fear them. I never
harmed any living being. I am a quiet man, and follow a peace
ful trade. If an evil-minded ganger chooses to act the part of
the highway robber, and cross an honest muleteer on his path,
why his blood be on his head. It grieves me, though, to hear
you trifling with matters connected with another world. The
books they gave you at Borgotaro — ^I never looked into them — I
am a poor ignorant mountaineer — ^but I fear they can do you no
good. There are men who study till they learn to fear neither
God nor the devil, and — "
" There now," interrupted Stella, " what a good parson you'd
make." "I do not like your books," continued Paul Moro, with rising
warmth, " and I do not like the company you frequent at Borgo
taro. It was ill-advised of your grandmother to allow you to go
alone to that idle town; had I been in the way, this should never
have been. We have heard of your fine doings there. You have
no regard for me, Stella, or you would not forget yourself so far
as to be seen dancing and flirting with Captain Scotti, or any
other thief-taker with epaulettes like him."
" Hush, hush; see there !" exclaimed the girl, with her usual
levity, pointing with her fan to a mountain hawk which was sail
ing loftily over their heads.
" You see, yonder, that kite, or buzzard, or whatever it is ?"
said the girl.
" It is a noble hawk," said the contrabandist, with a venera
tion for that bird peculiar to the mountaineers. " Its pinions are
as broad as an eagle's."
" Make haste with your rifle and bear him down !"
" The bold falcon does us no harm," remonstrated Paul Moro

THK LAST OF THE CONTRABANDIERI. 163

who himself a rover, had a fellow-feeling for the daring pirate of
the air.
" It's a flue shot," insisted the wilful girl, " and I long to see
a trial of your skill. Do you hear, sir ! Down with your rifle
and fire."
The good-natured lover complied reluctantly with the girl's
caprice. He raised the muzzle of his gun to a level with the
bird, and followed for a second its rotary soaring in the air.
Suddenly bis heart seemed to smite him. He lowered his piece,
and turning to his impatient mistress, "Grace," he said, "grace,
for the harmless creature !"
"Harmless plunderer of dove-cots and poultry-yards forsooth.
I have no patience with you."
" Every living being follows the instinct with which God Al
mighty has gifted him," returned the bandit, solemnly ; " we
have no right to sit in judgment against him."
"None of your nonsense," urged the girl, snappishly, "fire
forthwith, or I'll dispense with your company on my way
back." The contrabandist again took his unerring aim. The hawk
was by this time right over his head, at a very great height. He
wheeled round and round, lingeringly and almost imperceptibly,
courting as it were the fate that awaited him, unfolding his
mighty wings to their utmost extent, and offering thus as wide a
target as the marksman could desire. Paul fired. The report
of the rifle awakened the distant echoes on both sides of the
wide stream. The hawk made an upward start, then suddenly
sinking heavily, helplessly, he bounded down, turning over and
over through the air, until he plunged with a dead splash into
the roaring torrent, many hundred feet beneath the ground on
which his destroyer stood.
While Paul with a melancholy eye followed the downfall of
the bird, Stella cast a hurried glance towards the forest.
" The brave soaring falcon will never go back ^to his eyrie,"
said Paul, turning away bis head. " His race is run, and the
messenger of death reached him just, perhaps, as he exulted in

164 THE LAST OP THE CONTRABANDIERI.

the full consciousness of his powers. So much for those who put
their trust in mortal strength."
" I am only sorry we can have none of his feathers," observed
the girl, with -great coolness. "I wanted a plume for the cap of
my own champion. But come," she added, taking hold of his arm,
and hurrying him away, just as he prepared to reload his piece.
" We are not a hundred yards from the chapel, and we must not
go back without kneeling to the image of our Lady."
The mountaineer followed her without a reply, but in a state
of unusual depression. Stella, aware of the gloominess of his
disposition, endeavoured to dispel it, by her incessant volu
bility. " There is the enchanted forest," said she, " the nest of
sprites and goblins, the haunt of ghosts and ghouls, and all evil
spirits that roam by night." Then raising her merry voice
amidst peals of laughter, she sung : —
" Day or night, no man should rove
Through the dismal chestnut grove."
" Prithee, Stella, not that silly song," interrupted Paul Moro.
" Sing me rather some staves out of the Lay of San Pelle-
grino." But the heedless girl continued, raising her voice to the
highest pitch.
" Peace, Stella !" interrupted the smuggler, drawing her back
hastily. " Mercy, what is the matter ?" faltered the girl, ready to faint
with terror.
Every trace of colour had fled from the cheeks of Paul Moro.
His first movement had been to lower the muzzle of his gun in
the direction of the chapel ; his hand next ran to the hilt of his
dagger, but his self-possession instantly returned, and ashamed
of the moment of weakness he had evinced,
" Pah !" he exclaimed, " I am growing chicken-hearted, I be
lieve, as I am getting old. Didn't I fancy I saw a bayonet
gleaming through the branches of that old chestnut-tree ?"

THE LAST OF THE CONTRABANDIERI. 165

" I told you so," retorted the girl, who had rallied her spirits
as soon as ber companion, " The grove, the dismal grove ! that
is the place for strange sounds and queer sights."
They had reached the outskirts of the forest, and stood in front
of the chapel. The sun had set behind a huge mass of summer
clouds, and the moon was yet struggling through a dense haze
down in the east. It was the first and yet the darkest hour of
night. The last peals of the Ave Maria from many a parish
church on the hills, died languidly away mellowed by distance,
and the soft sigh of eve seemed to spread over the silent land
scape. Obeying the influence of the ineffable calmness around
him, the contrabandist laid his carbine against the wall, and
threw his cap on the rude stone bench which ran all along the
front of the shrine. He sat down, drew the pale-faced girl on
his knees, and rested his head on her shoulder, musing.
' Come, Paul," said the girl, in a voice which appeared sub
dued by the solemnity of the hour and of the place. " Let us
go in. Three Ave Marias, and then we'll see what Nonna has got
for our supper."
The man rose. He lifted up the latch, and pushed the gate
open. The girl followed on his footsteps and yet, even yet, as
she set her foot on the sill, she stopped for a few seconds to take
a survey of the surrounding trees.
They knelt side by side on the bare pavement in the centre of
the chapel ; they bowed their heads before the rudely-carved and
gaudily-dressed image on the altar-piece. — The clear, silver voice
of Maria Stella could be heard responding to the deep tones of
the pious contrabandist. The girl was many shades paler than
usual as they emerged from the shrine. Paul was about to re
sume his cap and his rifle when his mistress laid her hand on his
arm. " Stop dear Paul," she stammered, " I have left my fan in the
chapel." The contrabandist hastened back to the spot they had just left.
As he was stooping to raise the fan from the ground he heard

166 THE LAST OF THE CONTRABANDIERI.

the iron door violently slammed behind him. Maria Stella stood
laughing outside.
." Come, child, none of your pranks," cried the mountaineer
his eye flashing with sudden anger. " This is neither the place
nor the time for trifling. You know I cannot brook confinement,
not even in jest."
As he said this he laid his powerful grasp on the iron rails,
and gave them a hearty pull but in vain.
' There now, you are my pnsoner," shouted the wild girl,
clapping her hands in all the enjoyment of her mad frolic. " I
have half a mind to leave you there to spend the night with the
ghosts." The countenance of the contrabandist became now terrific.
" Lift up the latch, giddy girl, or by Heaven — "
Maria Stella was appalled by that menacing scowl ; she has
tened to comply with his desire, and fumbled for some time at
the latch, but after a few ineffectual efforts she drew back impa
tiently. "The devil is in the lock, I do believe," she exclaimed, "lend
me your knife, Paul ; my fingers are all-a-bleeding."
Paul thrust the handle of his dagger through the bars of the
door. The girl clutched it eagerly. In that instant the grove
became alive with armed men.
" There he is !" said Maria Stella, addressing her words to
their leader. " He can't help himself now. Don't hurt him at
least. Remember you promised !"

Seven years had elapsed since that new Dalilah had delivered
her lover fast and bound (for Paul was too much stunned by her
treason to offer even a show of resistance) into the hands of his
enemies. Matters bore now a different aspect in the upper re
gions of Val-di-Taro. There was an end of " free trade " since
the last of the contrabandists had disappeared from the scene of
his daring achievements. The fate of Paul Moro had daunted
the most valiant of his band. A sneaking smuggler would yet
occasionally steal through a wolf-path over the border with his

THE LAST OF THE CONTRABANDIERI. 167

pack of prohibited goods on his shoulder ; but the fair, gentle
manly practice of highway contraband had been gradually dis
continued, and seemed now to have become utterly imprac
ticable. By what fatal stratagem Paul's capture had been brought
about remained yet, in a great measure, a mystery. But how
ever artfully Maria Stella might contrive to avert from herself
the odium of that dark transaction — however loudly she bewailed
her lover's fate, and her own bereavement, she was soon made
aware that the tide of public opinion was setting hard against
her, and, as if apprehending that the air of Bedonia had all at
once become too keen for her constitution, she prevailed on her
grandmother to repair to Borgotaro.
The strong suspicions that were current to her discredit,
received ample confirmation by the heartless and almost riotous
life into which she plunged as soon as she saw herself safely re
established in her native place. Captain Scotti, he, it was sur
mised, who commanded the expedition against Paul Moro at St.
Mary's chapel, became now her constant attendant. The flatte
ries of that gay admirer induced her to a course of dissipation
which could not fail to give great offence to the sober community
that witnessed it. Whatever may be, or rather may have been
the manners of the idle nobility in town, licentiousness is very
rare in Italy among the middle and lowest classes. Maria Stella
found that she had no longer a right to raise her face before her
equals, and in vain urged her gallant swain to restore her good
name by the only means in his power. In a moment of despair,
advised also as it seems by the captain himself, she yielded to
the repeated solicitations of her ancient suitor, Dr. Bisturi, an
old miser, aged three score, who had buried three wives, and did
not shrink from the contingencies of a fourth connubial experi
ment. The wedding took place about three months after the arrest
of the contrabandist. Tidings of his trial and sentence at Parma,
had recently reached Borgotaro, and the announcement of hia
execution was hourly expected.

168 THE LAST OP THE CONTRABANDIERI.

Merrily rang every bell from the crazy old steeple, as the
doctor and his youthful bride, now made one flesh for life, issued
from the main door of the church ; the old country town of Bor
gotaro had put on its best holiday look, glad of its share in a
festive ceremony, no matter how unpopular the parties it was
called upon to congratulate. And the boys shouted, and the
mortars thundered, and the flags waved from the balconies, and
the roads were strewn with flowers. The whole bridal company
got on their mountain nags, and a long stream of people followed
in disorderly procession. Captain Scotti as bridesman, bestrid
ing the proudest of his chargers, pranced gallantly on the left of
Maria Stella; his radiant countenance and martial bearing afford
ing no common contrast to the shrivelled face and vaulted figure
of the old bridegroom, as he sat crouching on his ambling mule.
The gay cavalcade had well-nigh reached the doctor's residence,
near the half-tottering gate of the town, when it was met, and
owing to the narrowness of the street, momentarily checked by
another party, coming from an opposite direction, and presenting
quite a different aspect.
It was a large convoy of grim-visaged malefactors, tied together
on a long string, bound for the bagnios of Genoa. They were es
corted by a band of alguazils, armed to the teeth, and their limbs
were loaded with several coils of clanking chains. Each of
these felons muttered his coarse joke as he brushed by the white
palfrey of the gaily-attired bride. Only the last — he came alone,
and held his eyes on the ground, as if unconscious of the inter
ruption, — only the last would have walked silently on, had not
his attention been suddenly roused by a faint exclamation of the
bride h«rself — it was Paul Moro !
On the morning of his execution at Parma, the cart on which
he was conveyed to the scaffold, had happened to meet the car
riage of the reigning duchess, and that gracious encounter, in
accordance with a long established custom was interpreted as a
signification of reprieve. His sentence was commuted into hard
imprisonment for life, and he had received order to join a band

THE LAST OF THE CONTRABANDIERI. 169

of criminals, who were then on the eve of their transportation to
the galleys of Genoa.
At that cry of surprise, which the sight of her victira elicited
from Stella's heart, Paul raised his head, and seemed to awake
from a lethargic sleep. He gazed at his late betrothed, he gazed
at the sparkling cavalier, who, on the first symptoms of alarm,
had thrown his right arm round the lady's, waist, as if to steady
ber on her saddle ; and as he gazed, be turned quickly round to
address them, by that sudden start communicating a backward
movement to the whole gang of his fellow-captives. His guar
dians, however, pressed on his heels, and drove him onward with
oaths and blows.
Then the fiend of impotent rage was roused in the heart of
Paul Moro. He cast a savage look on all surrounding objects,
as if anxious to include the whole of creation in one sweeping
malediction. Then, with the fury of the wolf of the Appenine,
when wounded by the huntsman's lead, he drives his fangs
through his smarting flesh, the miserable convict snapped at his
left arm with his teeth with such rabid ferocity, that the blood
flowed copiously from the arteries of his lacerated limb. Faint
with the loss of blood, and the exhaustion of his passion, he was
conveyed to the gaol of Borgotaro, where a month elapsed before
he was so far recovered as to reach bis ultimate destination.
The best part of seven years had now gone by since Stella's
wedding had been saddened by that ominous meeting. She was
now seated by her bedside, in her chamber, watching the slum
bers of her only child, a blooming girl, born within the first
twelvemonth of her wedlock. The doctor, her husband, was
from home. It was late at night, and her attendant had retired.
Unrest and anxiety stood on the face of that solitary watcher.
And yet, her uneasiness could hardly arise from any maternal
concern for the health or well-being of her daughter, for the dewy
roses of thriving freshness, and the seraph smile of happy inno
cence, were on the face of the sleeping girl. Moreover, her eye
wandered often from the cradle to the half-closed door of her
15

170 THE LAST OF THE CONTRABANDIERI.

apartment. She rose also, not unfrequently, and paced tho
room with the agitated step of fretful expectation.
Her countenance had lost much of its native liveliness, and
the incessant worming of latent care seemed even to have under
mined her gracile constitution. The advantages of the compara
tive affluence and ease of her present situation had fallen misera
bly short of her sanguine anticipations. The dulness of her
husband's home was but a sad refuge against the withering scorn
which awaited her, whenever she ventured out into a society, for
which her origin as well as her conduct unfitted her. The very
man for whose sake she had sunk so low in her own and the
world's estimation. Captain Scotti himself, had but coldly requited
her boundless, though guilty devotion. Not many months after
her wedding, that officer had been removed to a distant part of
the province. He had left her letters unanswered, and all inter
course had, for a long lapse of years, ceased between them.
But he had come back, at last; suddenly, unexpectedly; an
interchange of biUets had taken plaee, and the doctor's absence
offering a rare opportunity, that very evening had been appointed
for a reconciliatory meeting.
Trembling with anxiety, sat the guilty -wife by her daughter's
cradle. That girl, she knew, had more than her ample share in
that cold and selfish man's affections. Since his last clandestine
visit, years ago, the helpless infant had grown into a lively and
rational being. Stella looked on her own girl, who, she hoped,
was to become a pledge of renovated tenderness. To the mother,
she thought, he might show himself overbearing and tyrannical ;
but that child's smiles, the very sight of its sleeping loveliness
could not fail to subdue him, to win him back to his wonted
allegiance. Outside, the night was dark and squally. The moaning gusts
of the autumn wind shook the old mansion with incessant fury.
A solitary star would glimmer, for an instant, through a
breach opened between the dnfting clouds, but huge black
masses, as if of Stygian vapours, immediately thronged upon tha

THE LAST OF THE CONTRABANDIERI. 171

vacaat space, and all again became more compact and deeper
gloom. Maria Stella, now at her window, contemplated the revel of the
raging elements. A shiver ran through her veins, the cold
blast howled through the crannies of the shattered shutters, in
the sound of a hungry wolf, prowling at the dead of night round
the palings of a lonely sheep-fold.
On a sudden her countenance beamed, her hands were clasped
with ecstatic joy ; for the form of a man was descried advancing
rapidly down the silent street. Stella recognized that lofty
figure, that martial step, that proud bearing of his head. Her
eyes had not deceived her. Yet a few moments, and the stately
officer stopped on the threshold of her house. It was an old
seignorial mansion, almost a castle in appearance, but sadly out
of repair, which the griping physician had bought out of the
wreck of a ruined family. The main door in the street remained
open day and night, the doctor's household being only protected
by the doors at the entrance of the habitable apartments. The
captain entered. There was a short interval of trembling expec
tation, and presently a light foot-tread stole rapidly up the mar
ble staircase. Maria Stella hurried to the door with outstretched
arms. The door flew open, yielding to a hasty impulse from
without. In stalked the nocturnal visitor — and Maria Stella fell
back, uttering a shriek — a piercing, rending, unearthly shriek, as
if her heart-strings had snapped asunder.
Paul Moro stood before her !
During six years and nine months Maria Stella never had once
heard of, never alluded to the transported contrabandist. Thought
of him, however, she had ; and his sudden appearance, in that
guilty moment, called back, by an instantaneous rush, a whole
age of secret terror and stifled remorse. Great Heaven ! was it
the phantom ofthe dead rising before her an avenger? or if it was,
indeed, Paul living and breathing, how had he broken his chains
and travelled safely back to his mountains ? And Paul had met
him ! for her eyes had not deceived her, and the captain stood
but one minute since on her threshold. They had met. Her
.over had fallen by the hand of his rival.

172 THE LAST OF THE CONTRABANDIERI.

Maria Stella staggered back. Thrice did she press both her
hands on her heart — thrice did she grasp convulsively, as she
reeled backwards towards her daughter's cradle. Her marble
pale countenance in an instant became overspread with flaming
scarlet. But that sanguine hue immediately gave place to a dark
purple. There was a spasmodic throbbing at her temples : a
gurgling and rattling at her throat ; she tottered backwards and
backwards, with her glaring eyes rivetted on the blasting appari
tion — fascinated as if Medusa's head had suddenly offered itself
before her gaze ; thrice she faltered in a smothered voice, " Paul !
Paul Moro!" and sank overpowered across the couch of her
child. That which caused that misguided woman such a trance of
cruel perplexity is, however, for us, a problem of easy solution.
Only three days before, the port of Genoa had been thrown into
an uproar by the announcement of the escape of six galley slaves
from the Darsena. They had been seen prowling along the sea
shore towards La Spezia. They were all bandits and smugglers
from Parma; Paul Moro was their leader, he had projected and
promoted their bold scheme of escape. They had seized on a
flshing tartana, and flve of them sailed for the opposite coast of
Barbary. But the leader remained behind. He resisted the
warm entreaties, the tears and threats of his comrades. He had
a vow to fulfil, he urged. He stood long gazing after their re
ceding sail, as wind and wave were rapidly wafting them to a
land of freedom and security. He wished them speed and suc
cess in their voyage. But he envied them not; he did not
mourn over their unavoidable separation ; his fate awaited him on
shore. Then he moved homewards. He trod on his native hills; he
plunged into the depths of his forests ; from an overhanging
cliff he hailed the broad valley which had so often witnessed his
triumphs. He stood on the ruins of his dismantled dwelling, hs
toiled through the thorns and nettles luxuriating on his deserted
homefield. The desolation of his own heart seemed equally spread
over the scenery around.

THE LAST OP THE CONTRABANDIERI. 173

But he had not come to mourn over ruins, or to wail over the
devastation of inclement seasons. He had a sacred duty, a
solemn vow of revenge to accomplish. Three days and three
nights he wandered, biding his time, and watching the move
ments of his victim. The doctor's absence, the captain's return,
the secret messages between the two lovers, their appointed
meeting — he knew all — he guessed all, as if gifted with a mira
culous power of divination.
At the appointed hour he hid himself behind the portals of
Stella's house. Behind a pillar in the dark hall Paul Moro
awaited the arrival of the expected guest. He heard, he recog
nized his tread, he perceived his tall figure, he fancied he could
discern his features as the captain passed him in the dark, grop
ing up to the staircase. The contrabandist laid hand on his dag
ger, and followed close on his footsteps.
But passion is hasty and inconsiderate, guilt is suspicious and
cowardly. The captain heard the footfall of his pursuer. He
stopped short, he held his breath. He was far indeed from
dreaming of the real nature of his danger ; but he was assailed
by a thousand vague terrors. He apprehended the doctor might
have detected his clandestine connexion with his wife, and way
laid him; he even dreaded the vengeance of Maria Stella herself,
whom he felt he had wronged, and whom he knew by experience
capable of the most dangerous extremes. A sudden faint-heart
edness stole over the frame of the gallant captain. He resolved
to give up the interview. This change in his disposition was
but tbe work of a moment ; he stole through a back staircase
into the yard, and through a coach-door glided out of the
house. Paul Moro knew nothing of this retreating movement. He
felt sure he was following on the track of his mortal enemy. He
held him safe. Thirst for revenge blinded and deafened him.
Thoroughly acquainted with every turning in the house, he
rushed to the door of Stella's chamber, into which his rival must
in that very instant have preceded him. He pushed open the
15*

174 THE LAST OP THE CONTRABANDIERI.

door, and was scarcely less surprised than Stella herself when he
found her alone.
He could scarcely believe his own eyes. He cast a hasty
glance round the room, and that rapid survey satisfied bim that
his victim had vanished. He stood amazed on the spot.
His dress was torn, soiled, and squalid, the consequence of his
rambling days and nights in tbe woods. His face was hollow
and haggard, the result of long hours of fast and sleeplessness,
and his features had been hardened, the expression of his coun
tenance had grown wild with years of weary toil, with the con
stant intercourse with degraded beings. He was a miserable no
less than a formidable object to look upon; and even indepen
dently of the fatal circumstances under which he presented him
self before Maria Stella, he might easily have suggested to any
other beholder the idea that he was only the spectre of his for
mer self.
Paul Moro recovered from the astonishment in which the in
conceivable disappearance of the captain had thrown him, only
to be paralyzed by the effect that his presence seemed to have on
the former object of his affections. He flew to her assistance, he
caught her up in his arms. He called out her name loudly, fran
tically. He roused the house by his alarming cries.
In his moments of maddening despair in the condemned cell —
in his hours of gloomy loneliness in the bagnio — in his first en-
trancement of emancipation — ^in his deeply meditated scheme of
revenge, the name of Stella had never been associated in his
mind with feelings of rancour and animosity. He came not to
harm her. Her unnatural defection grieved bim to the very
core of his heart. He mourned over the abyss into which an
angel had fallen. Her treachery had called forth unutterable
anguish, irrecoverable misery, but he could not hate her. He
could never have the heart to hurt her.
His long cherished revenge had a far higher aim ; his wrath
ran in a far different channel. He came to strike her seducer
dead at her feet. Him who had poisoned the atmosphere in
which innocence breathed, by the foul breath of his base fiattery

THE LAST OF THE CONTRABANDIERI. 175

— who had whispered treason into the incautious ear of an unso
phisticated country maiden, and made love an instrument of the
darkest perfidy — who had darkened the sun in his firmament,
and shaken his belief in God's own justice and wrath — him he
came- to stab to the heart !
And meanwhile his designed victim seemed to have sunk
underground, and Stella was fainting — dying before him. Dy
ing ! for all his endeavours, and those of the servants who had
been startled from their sleep and ran to her assistance, were
equally vain. Stella's eyes were still wide open, and seemed to
follow every movement of the contrabandist, as with violent
gestures, with bursting sobs, he solicited every person in the
room to lend a helping baud. But the chill of death was on her
darkened face, in her stiffened limbs ; still forever was the
heaving of her breast. The conflict of violent emotions had
produced instant suffocation.
A fortnight after that disastrous night, Paul landed at Bastia,
in Corsica. Notwithstanding his cropped ears, the runaway
galley-slave was enlisted in the foreign legion, which the French
government was then fltting out for Africa. At the head of the for
lorn hope, Paul Moro distinguished himself for a few months
against the Moors of Algiers. The violence of his onset, the
weight of his prodigious strength, and his recklessness of all
dangers, enabled him to come off, single-handed, from many a
desperate engagement. He was heard of as promoted to the
rank of a serjeant, and decorated with the Legion d'Honneur,
by the hand of the commanding marshal. These honours, and
more perhaps, the activity of that desultory campaign, seemed
, to have effaced from his heart all painful reminiscences, and re
conciled him to existence. One morning as he was sent to
reconnoitre at the head of a small detachment of light infantry,
he was struck on the head, and carried away into captivity by
the Arabs. He must either have died in consequence of his
wounds, or been deliberately put to death by his barbarous
enemy, as for many years he has never been heard of. Captain
Scotti has risen to the rank of a colonel in the service of the
Duchess of Parma.

DON CIRO, OR THE PRIEST-ROBBER.
This extraordinary man, whose atrocities far exceeded those of
his contemporaries (and sometimes his friends) tbe Vardarelli, was
born in the little Neapolitan town of Grottaglie. His parents, who
were in easy circumstances, destined him for the ecclesiastical
profession, which he entered very young. Having gone through
the routine of a priest's education at the seminario and CoUegio,
he was in due course of time ordained by the Bishop of the
diocese, and received the mass. The brothers of Don Ciro,
most respectable farmers, and his uncle the Canon Patitero
neither of whom ever took any part in his crimes, were alive and
in the enjoyment of unblemished reputation a very few years
ago, and are probably still living.
Don Ciro, even at an early period of life, showed very great
talents — qualities indeed that might almost claim the high
epithet of genius ; but unfortunately he possessed also what so
frequently accompanies genius, a most ardent and passionate
temperament. With a disposition — a resistless impulse to love
ever working within him, he was forbidden the indulgence of
that most natural and potent of all passions by his sacred pro
fession and his vows. Ciro Anacchiarico unfortunately became
enamoured of a lady, his own townswoman. This was the key
to all his crimes. His passion was too impetuous to be con
cealed, and his townsfolk talked lightly of him : a young man
of the place, a schoolfellow, and once a friend, met with more
favour in the eyes of the lady, than the priest could hope for
Ciro saw evidences of this one day. He rushed out of the
house, and providing himself with a gun, lurked behind a wall
until his rival should approach. The young man came, but
never went from the fatal spot. Ciro, who was even then a good
(176)

THE PRIEST-ROBBER. 177

marksman, shot him dead, and slunk away fancying to escape
discovery. Some rumours, however, were soon raised by tho
Motolesi, the family of the priest's victim. Giro's thirst for
vengeance was not satisfied with one murder ; he had vowed to
exterminate the whole family of the Motolesi. Their murmured
suspicions perhaps hastened their fate ; and one after the other
every individual of that house, save one, had disappeared from
the little town of Grottaglie. (The individual who escaped
lived shut up in his house for several years, without ever daring
to go out, and the unhappy being, even fifteen years after the
murder of his kindred, thought that a snare was laid for him
when people came to tell him of the imprisonment, and shortly
after, of the death of his remorseless enemy; and it was with
great difficulty that he was induced to quit his retreat.)
When he had gratified his revenge, and found that the tardy
justice of his country was about to proceed against him, he fled
from his native town. Whether he became a brigand then, does
not appear ; but he shortly after played his part of a hero,
for on learning that the government, ever injudicious and tyran
nical, had thrown his innocent brothers into prison, " he flew,"
he said, " on the wings of fraternal love" to effect their release,
and presented himself to the extraordinary judiciary commission
of Apulia sitting at Trani. The innocence of his brothers was
made evident, and they were released, but all the ingenuity and
eloquence of the Abbe (for he had attained that sacerdotal grade)
could not save himself. Capital punishment, however, was then
rare in the kingdom of Naples, and convicted and manifold mur
derer as he was, he was only sentenced to the galley for fifteen
years. For four years he was confined in the most horrid dun
geons, never being sent to the place appointed for his transporta
tion, though he several times petitioned for that removal, which
would have enabled him to breathe fresh air at least for a certain
number of hours each day. It would be too horrible to reflect
on the workings of a mind like his, in darkness and utter soli-;
tude — in a very hell ! from which, as might be expected he
came out a flend indeed !

178 THE PRIEST-ROBBER.

At the expiration of the fourth year of his dreadful confine
ment, he contrived to escape. But whither could he go without
friends or money ? The government of his country had now
passed into the hands of the French, who exercised it with more
energy than the old Bourbons. But the provinces, as I have
already explained, were overrun by desperate men, in whom, for
a long time, were confounded the characters of brigands and po
litical partizans. The Abate Ciro, therefore, went and joined
one of the most notorious of these bands, which soon acknowl
edged him as their chief, and grew in numbers and prospered
under his guidance and fostering talents. Under other cir
cumstances he might have been an excellent soldier — he turned
out a most accomplished bandit. Not one of the band could fire
his rifle with so sure an aim, or mount his horse like the priest
Don Ciro. In the course of his vagabond and hard life, being
obliged to hide for seasons in the most horrible holes of the
rocks or depths of the forest, and not unfrequently suffering the
want of the. merest necessaries for human sustenance, he ac
quired a strength of constitution, a resoluteness of purpose, and
an adroitness and cunning the most remarkable, even among
men whose modes of life, of necessity, confirmed and strength
ened the same qualities.
One of his first exploits after escaping from the dungeons of
Lecce, was to penetrate with his satellites into one of the first
houses of the little town of Martano, where after having offered
violence to the person of its mistress, he murdered her, and all
her people, and decamped with a large sum of ready money.
This deed was followed up by numerous crimes of the like
nature, until what with truth, and a little natural exaggeration,
the amount of delinquencies was most fearful, and nothing was
heard of but Ciro Anacchiarico. This was so much the case, that
some years after, when he thought it expedient to send in a justi
fication of hig conduct, he said that, " whatever robbery, what
ever murder, whatever assassination was committed on the face
of the earth, was instantly attributed to the Abate Anacchiarico."
The extent of this reputation could not but be dangerous tc

THE PRIEST-ROBBER. 179

him — yet he continued, year after year, to elude every pursuit,
and to baffle the many hundreds of soldiers that were occasion
ally sent against him. He was always well mounted. A retreat
of thirty or forty miles in a day was as nothing to him — and
even when confidential spies had revealed the place of his con
cealment but a few hours before, and his pursuers came upon
him with the full confidence that they should take him at last,
his skill and activity always served him at need, and he escaped.
This singular good fortune, or rather talent, of being able to
extricate himself from the most imminent dangers, acquired for
him, among the people, the valuable reputation of a necroman
cer, upon whom ordinary means of attack had no power ; and
Ciro, becoming aware of this, neglected nothing which could
confirm the idea, and increase the sort of spell it produced upon
the ignorant superstitious peasants. The country people, indeed,
soon carried their fears so far, that they dared not execrate or
even blame Don Ciro in his absence, so firmly were they per
suaded that his demon would immediately inform him of it and
render them obnoxious to his bloody revenge.
Meanwhile, a robber by profession — an unholy wizard in the
imaginations of other men — a devU in reality, Don Ciro never
wholly relinquished his sacerdotal character ; on the contrary he
would frequently perform its functions, celebrating the mass and
other solemn rites to the banditti — who are generally found in
Italy to have a strong relish for religion, such as it is, and who
will send a knife into your bosom while a crucifix and a reliquary
repose upon their own. Further to strengthen the anomaly of
his position as a priest, he was accustomed to declare the whole
Catholic priesthood rogues without faith ; and he affected him
self a very libertine character, addicting himself in a particular
manner to the perusal of indecent French songs, a whole collec
tion of which was once found in bis portfolio. Moreover, his
passion for one woman generalised itself; and besides its acci
dental gratification, he had, at the period of his power, mis
tresses in all the towns of the province.
The other bands of banditti, compared with the priest's rob-

180 THE PRIEST-ROBBER.

bers, were angels of mercy. Yet in the course of perpetrating
the most ruthless crimes, Don Ciro would sometimes indulge in
whims to which he tried to give an air of generosity. General
D'Ottavio, a Corsican in the service of Murat, had long been
pursuing him with a thousand men. One day Ciro, whose auda
city was frequently quite romantic, armed at all points, sur
prised the general, unarmed, and alone, walking in his own gar
den. He discovered himself — ^pronounced his dreaded name,
and remarked, that the life of the general, who sought his life,
was in his hands. " But," said he, " I will pardon you this
time, although I shall cease to be so indulgent if you continue
to hunt me about with such fury !" Thus saying he leaped over
the garden wall and disappeared
When King Ferdinand was restored to his States on the Con
tinental side of the Faro by the great political game of Europe,
in which he had been about as neutral as a marker in whist, he
recalled as I have already mentioned, such as had heen fuoruscitt
for political opinions. There were many robbers in this number,
but Ciro Anacchiarico's crimes were of too deep a dye. Yet
this bold villain did not fear to present himself to the public
authorities at Lecce, claiming his majesty's amnesty. The magis
trates gave him a safe conduct to the city of Bari, where he was
to reside, under the eye of the police for the present. He pre
tended afterwards that he felt remorse and repentance at this
time, and even entertained a serious idea of shutting himself up
in the college of the Missionaries, and passing the rest of his
days in fasting and prayers. " I was on the point," says he in
his justification, " of foUo-wing up my noble resolution, when the
thunderbolt burst upon my head (allorche intesi lo scroscio da
violentissimo fulmine, che se scagliova sul mio capo.) Ah! Id
it be permitted me, most respectable seignors, to exclaim thia
moment with .^neas) call' Enea di Yirgilio — the robber had
not quite forgotten his classics !)
'Infandum — jubete vos — renovate dolorem.'
" I have not force enough to express to you, how my heart
was rent, or the deplorable state which I miserably sank into

THE PRIEST-ROBBER. 181

when I was secretly informed by a faithful friend, that my arrest
was ordered on the cruel accusation of having infringed the
royal mandate. I vanished like lightning from Bari ; I went to
the capital to obtain redress, and to discover once more the black
conspiracy against me. All was vain. The hopes I had che
rished disappeared ; and while perplexed as to the steps I ought
to take, the power of my relentless persecutors prevailed. At
last I left the capital, and guided only by that fortitude and con
sistency so necessary in my misfortunes, I betook myself to my
old haunts in the solitude of the forests, and recommenced a
savage and wretched life."
It was at the end of 1815 ; towards the termination of the
following year, Don Ciro, having well employed the intervening
time, and now taking the alarm at the adoption of vigorous mea
sures by the government to put down the brigands, conceived the
bold idea of uniting the various bands of robbers and outlaws,
of whatever faction or denomination, to oppose the march of the
king's troops with all the forces they could muster, and other
wise to assert henceforward one common cause.
The Vardarelli, the most conspicuous of the robbers, were
then enjoying the honours of their royal capitulation and were
in the king's pay; but Ciro knew there were grounds of fear
and dissatisfaction existing among them, and hoped to induce
them to "turn out" again. He therefore invited them, with the
chiefs of other bands to a personal conference, in order, in the
first place to treat of the measures to be pursued against General
Church, who was coming into their provinces at the head of the
king's troops; and these worthies had, accordingly, two different
interviews, the first at the end of 1816, in a little deserted
chapel where Don Ciro celebrated mass before he began the con
ference, and the second in the month of March or April 1817,
in a farm between S. Ermo and Gioja. Gaetano Vardarelli dif
fered as to the propriety of a junction. He represented that it
would be well to act in concert, but still separately, and that
they ought by all means to avoid a general insurrection, of
which they might easily become the victims. " As long," said
10

182 THE PRIEST-ROBBER.

he, "as our bands are not numerous, Government will be de
ceived, and make war upon us feebly, as it does now ; but as
soon as we form ourselves into a more important body, it will be
forced to send an army against us." It appeared that the Var
darelli, though dissatisfied, were inclined to wait events ; and
their advice, or non-adhesion overset Don Giro's grand plan.
But still bolder and more comprehensive was the next project
of this extraordinary man. Seeing the country overrun by sects
and secret societies, which under the names of Carbonari, &c,
aimed at political changes, differing in quality, but all equal in
absurdity, and some of which exercised vengeance too horrible
and rites too disgusting or ridiculous to mention, — he fancied
that, by placing himself at the head of one of these, he could
not only gratify his passion for plunder and revenge, but ulti
mately erect himself into the chief of a wonderful republic,
whose influences were to be felt, not over Naples or Italy alone,
but over the whole extent of Europe, whose monarcbs, whether
constitutional or absolute, were all to sink under the dagger of his
votaries. Ciro Anacchiarico does not appear to have created
either, but to have united two of these mysterious societies of
cut-throats, who had assumed the names, the one of " I Patrioti
Europei," (The European Patriots,) the other of " I Decisi,"
(The Decided or Resolute.) If the affiliation I have heard
traced be correct, these sects both rose out of the Carbonari; and
the moderate and respectable men — and there were many and
many thousands such — of that secret society, ought to have
paused and shuddered when they saw how easily their conduct
might be imitated and perverted, and to what horrors secret so
cieties might be turned. These associations of the " patriots"
and the " Decided" increased rapidly, from the weakness of the
Government in neglecting, at first, to punish the guilty, and
from the notorious corruption of the inferior Government officers
and lower clergy. It was found that priests were attached to all
their camps or ramifications. Besides our robber-priest, Don
Ciro, whose superior talent and remorseless mode of proceeding
soon put him at the head of the whole, the arch-priest Cirino

THE PRIEST-ROBBER. 183

Cicillo, of Cacamola, Vergine, of Corogliano, and Leggeri, filled
important situations in the sect. The arch-priest Zurlo, of Val-
sano, particularly distinguished himself, and in his native town,
and on Christmas eve, he renewed a scene of the middle ages, —
he celebrated the midnight mass armed from head to foot !
As soon as the bands (compared to whom the avowed brigands
had hitherto been moderate and decorous associations) had ac
quired some strength, they sent detachments into nearly every
town and village in Apulia. Supported by a larger troop in the
neighbourhood, they soon became the despotic masters of solitary
or insulated places. A horde of twenty or thirty of these ruf
fians, who pretended a more peculiar inspiration of republicanism
and secret-societyship, overran the country, disguised and masked
as Punchinellos, committing atrocities, in more ways than one,
too unnatural and loathsome to bear repeating.
The most horrid crime perpetrated by the priest Don Ciro was
nnder the disguise of the national buffoon. There was a beauti
ful woman in a remote village, of whom he had become passion
ately enamoured (after his fashion) but whom neither his pre
sents, his promises, nor his threats, could seduce. It was carni
val time, and on a certain evening, she and her relations and
friends were enjoying the pleasures of a dance and a feast. Don
Ciro and several of his more desperate adherents, came to the
house, disguised as Punchinellos. At that season of madness,
every house, where an entertainment is going on, is open, and as
all the neighbourhood are masking and mumming, it is of course
not easy, nor is it attempted, to distinguish who the thronging
guests may be. Don Ciro proved himself an acceptable one by
bringing a plentiful supply of excellent wine, in which he and
his comrades pledged the company, and drank hrindisis, or
rhymed toasts, of admirable facetlousness.
They then joined the dance, the disguised priest selecting the
happy and unsuspecting object of bis passion for his partner. -
After numerous tarantellas, which, of all the dances I have
seen, are the most calculated to irritate voluptuousness, the party
sat down to an abundant supper, the punch-robber-priest still

184 THE PRIEST-ROBBER.

occupying the ear of the beautiful paesana, and only detaching
his attention from her to make the party drink. As for himself,
he merely touched the wine with his lips, and so remained per
fectly sober, whilst all the rest of the men were fast approaching
intoxication. At what he considered an opportune moment, he quitted his
Punchinello squeak, resumed his natural voice, made himself
known to the woman, and again pleaded his passion. The poor
creature was as averse as ever. He then rose, beckoned to his
companions, and wishing the festive party good night, left the
house, — which in half an hour, was wrapped in flames. And
so well laid were the robber's matches, and so drunk and stupi-
fied were the revelling peasants, whose wine had been drugged,
that they all perished in the confiagration. Don Ciro himself,
when in prison, and in the power of General Church, from
which he knew there was no escape, related this atrocious exploit
nor did the near prospect of death induce him to make a single
expression of remorse. He dwelt on the beauty of his victim,
and his still existing mortification at his not having obtained her
love, boasting that he had not often been so disappointed.
In places where open force could not be employed, the most
daring disciples were sent in secrecy to watch the moment to
execute the sentences of death pronounced in the mysterious
society. In this manner, the sectary Perone plunged his knife
into the bowels of an old man of seventy — the respectable Del'
Aglio, of Francavilla, and afterwards massacred his wife and
servant, having introduced himself into their house, under the
pretence of delivering a letter ; and in this manner, the justice
of peace of Luogo Rotondo and his wife were assassinated in
their own garden.
These bloody sectaries would not suffer neutrality : it was ab
solutely necessary to join them, or to live exposed to their ven
geance which appeared to be inevitable. The society would pass
a secret sentence of death, and proceed at once to its execution,
or, if necessary, an individual would take the office upon himself
and wait days and nights, until he could strike the hlow. The

THE PRIEST-ROBBER. 185

Old man of the Mountains seemed risen from the grave — the
Apulian sectaries were as sanguinary and unerring as his tre
mendous satellites had been.
They did not invite the support of the rich proprietors and
persons of distinction, against whom their hostilities were to be
directed ; but they unhappily found partizans among the less
wealthy ; and some few of the inferior gentry, who were jealous
of the high nobility, also joined them. These men would pro
bably have blushed at the idea of becoming brigands, yet could
there be a more detestable species of brigandage, than what was
revealed to them by Don Ciro and his associates ? Even allow
ing that parts of his plan were not divulged to the more respect
able of his sectaries, (who, in the long run, must have been the
victims of the more villanous,) yet what sympathy can be in
spired by the political aspirations of men who could ally them
selves with known robbers and murderers,- like Anacchiaro and
hip gang ? The Government, instead of summoning the opulent
proprietors to its assistance, offended and. disgusted them by dis
trust. A meeting at the fair of Galantina, to deliberate on the
means of checking the disorders, was cried down, and treated at
Naples as a revolutionary proceeding. In extenuation, however,
of this seeming imprudence of Government it must be men
tioned, that many of these gentlemen or noblemep, resident on
their estates in the provinces, were themselves members of secret
societies, which had all a political scope ; they were not Patrioti
Europei, or Decisi, but they were Carbonari : — this I, being in
the country, both before and after the events under discussion,
know very well — the Neapolitan government also knew it, and
they could hardly draw a line between the sects, the objects of
all of which, as already mentioned, were revolutionary, and they
feared all the secret societies alike. In the winter of 1816 — 17,
I saw, partly accidentally, and partly through circumstances,
whioh I did not seek, but which it would be dishonourable
to disclose, a re-union of these gentlemen. Some were pro
vincial nobility, some noblemen from Naples, who only oc
casionally resided on their estates, some were substantial far-
16*

186 THE PBIEST-ROBBEK.

mers. The hour of rendezvous was midnight — the house se
lected a solitary one, and the members of the club came singly
or in parties of two or three each, on horseback, and without any
attendants. This appearance of mystery and night-plotting,
though sufficiently romantic, did not captivate me much, and
young as I was, I could not help feeling that the outward and
visible showing of these regenerators or reformers, was against
them. As one of the uninitiated, I was not admitted to their de
liberations ; but I was informed that they all tended to the esta-
Mkhment of a constitutional government in the kingdom of the
Two Sicilies.
When the Decisi became so formidable, these gentlemen,
however, showed the purity of their intentions, by aiding tbe
Government to their utmost, as soon as more energy was shown,
and by co-operating with General Church, with whom many indi
viduals of this class served both as officers and private volunteers.
But at the same time. General Pastore, Commandant of these
provinces, and the Marquis Predicatella, Intendant of Lecce, in
flamed party spirit by imitating the system of Canosain and
setting up private societies to work against private societies : the
national guard, under their orders, suffered itself to be partly
seduced by the Patrioti and Decisi sectaries, and a number of
soldiers and sqjne officers of the Crown battalion of reserve, were
similarly corrupted.
The number of these daring sectaries had arrived at its
greatest height in the month of December 1817, or of January
1818. At this period they were estimated at 20,000 men ! The
mass of them lived at home, in apparent tranquillity, on the pro
duce of their professions ; but they were not the less active in
committing unheard-of crimes, as their detection was the more
difficult. Persons have been known, when in the power, and
under the daggers of these ruffians, to sign contracts for the sale
of their houses and lands, the objects of the cupidity of these
desperadoes ; the contracts were executed in all the forms of the
law, and acknowledgments were given by tbe unfortunate
owners for sums which they had never received.

THE PRIEST-ROBBER. 187

The sittings of these societies were, at first, in the night, like
the more respectable re-union I have mentioned, and were care
fully guarded by sentinels ; their military exercises took place in
solitary houses, or suppressed and deserted convents ; but taking
courage by degrees, they were afterwards seen performing their
evolutions by day, and in the open air. Most of them had fire
arms ; all had poniards. They also began to organize a corps of
cavaby. The patent of this society sufficiently explained its objects.
It was an oblong, square paper, or parchment. Two of the.
angles were ornamented with a skull, over one of which was in
scribed "Sadness," and the word "Death" over the other. The
opposite angles had cross-bones, with the inscriptions " Terror"
and " Mourning." On the top of the patent were the fasces and
the cap of liberty, planted upon a death's head, and supported
by two axes. At the bottom was a thunderbolt darting from a
cloud, and shivering the royal crowns and the papal tiara.
Stripes of yellow, red, and blue, the tri-eolour of the society,
surrounded the patent. The words of the patent were these :
" The Salentine Decision.
Health.
No.  Grand Masons. •
" The Decision of Jupiter the Thunderer hopes to make war
against the tyrants of the Universe," &c. {These words oj
which only the initials were given, were written in blood, as were
several other parts of the document.)
" The mortal  is a Brother Decided. No. — , belonging to
the Decision of Jupiter the Thunderer, spread over the face of
the earth, by his decision, has had the pleasure of belonging
to this Salentine Republican Decision. We invite, therefore, all
Philanthropio Societies to lend their strong arm to the same, and
to assist him in his wants, he having come to the Decision, that
he will obtain Liberty or Death. Dated this day, the  of
 ," &c.

188 THE PRIEST-ROBBER.

Here followed three signatures written in blood.
1st. Of the Grand Master, with four points after it, whii'h
indicated bis power of passing sentence of death.*
2d. Of the Second Decided.
3d, Of the Register of the Dead, whose functions did not re
late to the deceased members of the society, but to the victims
they immolated, and of whom the^kept a register apart, on the
margin of which were found blasphemies and most infernal
projects. The excesses of such a society, directed by such a man or
monster, as Ciro Anacchiaro, may be easily conceived. But
they were now drawing to their close. General Church, armed
with the Royal Alter-Ego, or with full and unlimited power, was
sent into these distracted provinces, where his energetic and pru
dent conduct cannot be too much praised. He crossed the river
Ofanto in the Apulian plain with 1200 men, chiefly of the
foreign regiments in the Neapolitan service, formed by himself :
among them some companies of cavalry. He could depend upon
this force, which was for the greater part composed of Germans,
Swiss, Moreotes, and Albanians. The soldiery already in the
country were only to be depended upon, after they had witnessed
the firm determination with which the General set about his duty,
and after the factious individuals, contaminated by the sectaries,
had been weeded out. T he same was the case with the militia.
Encouraged by the example set them by the Dukes of San
Cesareo and Monte Jasi, and others of the nobility and wealthy
proprietors, several individuals even of the lowest class, fur
nished information concerning Don Ciro and his sectaries, and
joined heart and hand in the measures for their extermination.
The fear of not being supported had hitherto prevented these
honest men from acting; but still the greater part of the inferior
order were shy and silent, maintaining a line of conduct which
indicated that they would not hesitate to declare for the sectaries,
if the latter should succeed against General Church. This was
particularly observed in the neighbourhood of Taranto, at Grot-

THE PRIEST-ROBBER. 189

taglie, San Marzano, Martina, and Francavilla, the usual haunts
of Don Ciro Anacchiarico and his friends. When General
Church first visited these places, the inhabitants looked on in
gloomy silence, and no person saluted him ; a poor old monk
was the only person who bowed to him.
The bandits and the banished were summoned for the last time
before the Royal Commission at Lecce. Don Ciro sent in his
justification, (a most remarkable composition, with considerable
eloquence and ingenuity, and more impudence than can enter our
conceptions;) but knowing his pardon to be hopeless, instead of
presenting himself in person, he prepared to defend himself
by his sectaries and arms.
General Church then made his military dispositions. He di
vided his troops into moveable columns, and placed garrisons
upon some points where they were absolutely required either
from their commanding the vast plains of the country, or
because they were strong enough to serve as places of retreat
for the brigands The moveable columns all operated towards
a common centre, by gradually contracting the circle which
embraced the towns of Grottaglie, San Marzano, and Franca
villa. Other columns of reserve accompanied the General,
who proceeded, with the rapidity of lightning, wherever the
spies had traces of Ciro Anacchiarico.
At first, confident in his resources, material and moral, the
brigand-priest set a price on the head of the bold Englishman,
but the General's proceedings soon undeceived him, and he was
heard to murmur, while biting his thumb in token of rage and
disappointment, " This is a different sort of man from those they
have hitherto sent against me 1 I have fooled many a General —
French, Italian, and Neapolitan, but this one will end by making
a fool of me !"
He began to perceive that his resources became day by day
weaker and weaker ; his credit with the people of the country
was no longer what it had been ; his prestige was eclipsed to
their eyes, and he had to dread that those who were still faithful
to him, would soon fall from his side. If he could, he would

190 THE PRIEST-ROBBER.

then have escaped from the country which had so long trembled
at his name. He privately reached the port of Brindisi, where
he attempted to embark; but the captain of the vessel i recog
nized him, and demanded 2000 ducats as the price of his safety;
not having them about him to give, he wrote to his friends, who
refused to advance the sum.
Pressed and surrounded more and more closely, pent in the
arena, tied to the stake, Don Ciro resolved to risk a general rising
of such of his allies as continued desperate, and a pitched battle
with the Royal troops. He fixed the 27th of February 1818
for this purpose, and appointed the place of rendezvous under the
walls of San Marzano, but his final catastrophe preceded that
date! Ciro Anacchiarico set out from Grottaglie on the 25th of Jan
uary 1818, with forty horsemen and ten foot. At two o'clock
in the afternoon he fell in with a detachment of General
Church's cavalry, commanded by Captain Montorj, who charged
him, and drove him as far as Neviera, a farm at the foot of the
hill of San Marzano. Ciro there made a short stand, and then
retreated up to the town itself in tolerably good order.
Captain Montorj followed and attempted to enter by the steep
and narrow path which wound up to the town ; but Ciro and
his adherents of San Marzano repulsed him. The officer then
turned the hill in order to scale it on the side of Manduria, but
there too he was received by a shower of balls. He observed, how
ever, that these were the same men who had repulsed him in
the former attempt and had followed his movements, and hence
concluded that they were not sufficiently numerous to defend all
the points at once, and that he should gain his object by de
ceiving them. Concealing himself behind one of the garden
walls, he drew the robbers' attention by firing a carbine or two
ill that direction, and then he suddenly appeared in the opposite
direction followed by most of his men. The stratagem suc
ceeded : Montorj entered San Marzano, and the panic-struck
followers of Giro dispersed. The great object was to secure
Ciro ; but he was not to be found : he had made another (per

DON CIRO.

P. 190.

THE PRIEST-ROBBER. 191

haps the hundredth) of his wonderful escapes, and was safe in
the open country before the infantry of a moveable column
arrived, which it did immediately after his flight from the town.
An instant census was taken of San Marzano, the mayor of
which suggested to Major Bianchi, the commander of the column,
a method of discovering the delinquents. Every house was
searched, and the guilty were recognized by the smell or the
blackness of their hands, a proof of their having recently
handled fire-arms and powder. Vito Serio, the brothers Fran
cesco and Angelo Vito Lecce, Raffaelle Zaccharia, and Pietro
Barbuzzi were arrested, and all executed on the 3d of February,
at Francavilla. (Their heads were placed in front of the church
ot San Marzano. This church was blown down by a hurricane
Bome months after, and the heads were buried beneath its ruins.)
Major Bianchi also took the Black Standard, and the insignia
and decorations of Don Ciro, which General Church forwarded
to Naples, where they were presented to the King by Prince
Nugent, the Captain-General.
Major Bianchi, following up his advantages, proceeded the
next day to Francavilla. Here he found the inhabitants in the
greatest fermentation, determined to break open the prisons and
release those confined in them. Having ascertained who were
the ringleaders, he lost not a moment in causing them to be
seized in their houses. His gens-d'armes patrolled the streets
with orders to lay hands on every individual they might meet
bearing arms. He thus terrified the towns-people and quelled
the tumult.
General Church then arrived in person : the troops concen
trated on Francavilla, where a military commission was established
to try the outlaws. Don Giro had now been missing for
six or seven days ; not a word had been heard of him since his
escape from San Marzano, but the General fancying he could not
be far off, and that he was still in intimate correspondence with
some individuals in that town, threatened it with plunder and
destruction, unless its inhabitants enabled him to secure the per-

192 THE PRIEST-BOBBER.

son of the robber-priest within eight days. Trembling for their
houses and property, the militia of San Marzano then undertook
to pursue Don Ciro, and on the sixth of February they beset
him in the masseria (or farmhouse) of Scaserba, not above ten
miles from General Church's quarters at Francavilla.
The masserie in Apulia and the provinces of Bari, Otranto,
and Taranto, are all built on the same plan, and are very capable
of defence. The word is not rendered by " farm-house," which
gives but an inadequate idea of the masseria. They date from
the period when the incursions of the Turks and pirates were
apprehended, and when the country people shut themselves up
in their strongholds with their cattle and most valuable effects,
in order to secure themselves from attack. A square wall of
enclosure, sufficiently high and solid, generally surrounds the
dwelling-house, built against one side, and containing three or
four large habitable rooms, and sometimes a small chapel. The
vast stables, granaries, and out-houses, within the walls, form a
right angle with this dwelling-house, but without touching it. In
the midst of the enclosure, at some distance from the surround
ing walls, rises a round or .square tower of two stories, standing
quite alone. The ascent to the upper story is either by stone
steps, inserted in the tower, by a drawbridge, or by a ladder
easily drawn up into the tower. This description will enable the
reader to understand how Don Ciro could make so long a resist
ance in the masseria of Scaserba.
He had arrived at this lonely place with some of his com
rades worn out with fatigue, and had thought he could" venture
to repose himself there for a few hours. It was said that he
had previously provided Scaserba and many other lonely masseria
of the district with arms, ammunition, and some provisions.
He was surprised at the sudden and hostile apparition of the militia
of San Marzano, but not at all alarmed, making sure he could cut
his way through them whenever he chose. Had he rushed out
at once, he might have done so. He coolly stayed where he was,
and let them form before the gate of the masseria. So strong
was his spell on the minds of these men that for a long time

THE PRIEST-ROBBER. 193

they hesitated to approach within range of his never-erring
musket — ^the first that did so, he shot dead from the outer walls.
This delay, however, cost him dear. The militia of San
Marzano, though not brave, were this time in earnest, and
having sent information to Lieutenant Fonsmort, stationed
at the " Castelli," a position between Grottaglie and Francavilla,
that officer hastened to the spot, with forty men of regular
troops. As this force came in sight on the edge of the plain,
Don Ciro bit his thumb until it bled, for he understood that a
vigorous attack was to be made, and retreat was now hopeless.
He soon, however, recovered his presence of mind, and locking up
the poor people of the masseria in the straw magazine, and putting
the key in his pocket, he retired with his desperate followers to
the tower. Having ascended to the upper story, they drew
in the ladder after them, and proceeded to load all their guns,
of which they had a good number.
It was now evening; the darkness of night soon succeeded
the brief twilight of the south. That night must have been a
sleepless one for Don Ciro, though no attempt was made at
storming his stronghold. The morning dawn, however, af
forded him no comfort, for Captain Corsi had arrived from
Francavilla with a detachment of gens-d'armes, and after Major
Bianchi came to him with other reinforcements !
The siege of Scaserba was now formed by 132 soldiers ; the
militia, on whom little dependance was placed, being stationed
in the second line, and at some distance.
Don Ciro vigorously defended the outer walls and the ap
proaches to his tower from sunrise to sunset. In the night he
attempted to escape, but the neighing of horses made him sus
pect that some cavalry had arrived, whose pursuit it would be
impossible to elude, and he saw piquets all round the masseria.
He therefore retired, after having killed, with a pistol-shot, a
voltigeur stationed under the wall he "had attempted to scale.
He again shut himself up in his tower, and employed himself all
night in making cartridges. An afternoon, two nights, and a whole
day had been spent, and Don Ciro was still master of the whole en-
17

194 THE PRIEST-ROBBER.

closure, and the outer walls of the masseria ! At day-break, the
besiegers tried to burst open the strong wooden gate of the outer
wall ; Ciro and his men creeping from the tower and under the wall
by the gate, repulsed the assailants, killing five and wounding
fourteen of the soldiers. A barrel, of oil was then rolled to the
gate, in order to burn it. The first man who set fire to it was
shot through the heart. But. its flames communicated to the
door, which was soon accessible, and Don Ciro was obliged to re
treat to his tower. How long he might have kept Major Bianchi
at bay, had not a piece of artillery arrived, and had he not for
gotten an important part of provision for a siege, is uncertain ;
but as the day advanced a four-pounder was brought to the spot,
and pointed against the roof of the tower. This little piece pro
duced great effect. The tiles and bricks whieh fell, drove Don
Ciro from the upper to the lower story of the tower. The as
sailants, satisfied with the effects produced by the four-pounder,
would not approach the tower ; he had nothing to do in the way
of firing at them, to keep up his spirits ; — at the same time, and
in this horrid state of inactivity or passiveness, he was tor
mented with a burning thirst, for he had forgotten to provide
himself with water — and he never could drink wine.
At length, after some deliberation with his companions, he
demanded to speak with General Church, who he believed was
in the neighbourhood ; then to the Duke of Monte Jasi — (he
seems to have had the ancient Knight's anxiety, to surrender to
none save people of distinction ;) — but that nobleman being also
absent, he condescended to capitulate with Major Bianchi. On
their approach, he addressed the besiegers, and threw them some
bread. Major Bianchi assured him that he should not be mal
treated by the soldiery, of whom he had killed and wounded so
many. He then lowered the ladder, descended from the tower,
and presented himself to the Major and his troops, with the
words " Eccommi, Don Ciro," — " Here am I, Don Ciro !"
His comrades then followed him. iind how many were these
desperate men, who had so long defended themselves against

THS PRIEST-ROBBER. 195

such a foiice ? They were only three — Vito di Cesare, Giovanni
Palmieri, and Michele Cupoli.
Their hands, their faces, their dress, were horribly begrimed
by gunpowder and smoke, but there was no appearance of wounds
on their persons, and their countenances, particularly that of
their daring leader, were firm and resolute in the extreme. The
first thing Don Ciro did after surrendering himself to the
soldiers was, to beg them to give him water to quench his con
suming thirst. He then delivered the key and desired them to
liberate the people of the masseria, who had been locked up all
this while in the straw-magazine. He declared that they were
innocent, and as they came out of their place of confinement he
distributed money among them. He patiently suffered himself
to be searched and bound. Some poison was found upon him,
which he said he would have taken in the tower had not his
companions prevented him.
The besiegers and their captives now marched off for Franca
villa. Don Ciro conversed quietly enough all the way with
Major Bianohi, to whom he related the principal circumstances
of his most extraordinary life.
In prison he was equally calm. He only appeared to be inte
rested for the fate of some of his partizans, or Decisi : he de
clared that they had been compelled by his threats and their own
fears to do whatever they had done, and be entreated that they
might not be persecuted.
On being placed before the 'council of War, presided by Lieute
nant-Colonel Guarini, be addressed a speech to that officer, mis
taking him for General Church. Among other arguments he
used, was this : —
" On the day that you. General, with the Duke of San Cesa
reo and only a few horsemen, reconnoitred Grottaglie, I was
there, with several of mine, concealed behind a ruined wall,
cloMkby the gate where you entered. I covered you with my
rifle, and I never missed my aim ten times that distance ! Had
not the feelings of mercy prevailed in my bosom, General,
instead of being here to judge me, you would have been in your

196 THE PRIEST-ROBBER.

grave. Think of this, Signor General, and let me meet with
the mercy I have shown !"
On being informed of his mistake, he insisted on seeing
General Church ; when this was refused him, he quietly resigned
himself to his fate, dryly saying, " Ho capito." (I understand.)
He did not pronounce another word.
After sentence of death, was passed, a Missionary introduced
himself, and offered him the consolations of religion. Don Ciro
answered him -with a smile, " Let us leave alone all this stuff and
prating ! we are of the same trade — don't let us laugh at one
another !"
On being asked by Captain Montorj, reporter of the Military
Commission which condemned him, how many persons he had
killed with his own hand, he carelessly answered, " Who can
tell ? — they may be between sixty and seventy."
As he was led to execution, he recognised Lieutenant Fons-
morte, the officer who had been the first to arrive at the masseria
of Scaserba with his regular troops. Don Ciro had admired his
readiness and courage, and said to him, " If I were a king, I
would make you a captain."
The streets of Francavilla, through whieh he passed, were
filled with people ; even the house-tops were crowded with specta
tors. They all preserved a gloomy silence.
On his arrival at the place of execution, Don Ciro walked with
a firm step to his fatal post. He wished to be ^shot stand
ing — ^but they ordered him to kneel. He did so, presenting his
breast to the soldiers. He was then told that malefactors, like
himself, were always shot with their backs to the soldiers ; " It
is all the same," he replied -with a smile, and then he turned his
back. As he did so, he advised a priest, who persisted in remain
ing near him, to withdraw, " for," said he, " these fellows are
not all such good shots as I have been — they may hit you!"
He spoke no more — ^the signal was given— the soldiers #ed
at the kneeling Priest-robber. Twenty-one balls took effect — four
in the head ! Yet he still breathed and muttered in his throat;
it required a twenty-second shot to put an end to him ! This

THE PRIEST-ROBBER.

197

fact was confirmed by all tbe officers and soldiers present at his
execution. The people who had always attributed supernatural
powers to him, were confirmed in their belief by this tenacious-
ness of life, which was, indeed, little short of miraculous. " As
soon as we perceived," said one of the soldiers very seriously,
" that Don Ciro was enchanted, we loaded his own musket with
a silver ball, and this destroyed the spell."
Thus fell in 1818, after fifteen years of a most lawless life,
dating from bis jealousy and first murder, Don Ciro Anacchiarico,
of whom little else remains to be said, save that his countenance
had nothing at all repulsive about it, but was, on the contrary,
rather mild and agreeable ; that he was master of a verbose but
most persuasive eloquence, though pedantic in his style and
over-addicted to classical allusions and inflated phrases — the
general defects of his countrymen, the Neapolitans.

-¦/*•>.

DON CIRO'S BAND BESIEGED.
17*

0 1^ 'i)^i ,'iifi

4 "

STORY OF SPANISH BRIGANDS.
A BAND of Spanish brigands, composed of men who had
served in the army of Don Carlos, were brought to. trial on the
19th of March 1845, at Perpignan. The number included in the
indictment is twenty-two, of whom seventeen were arraigned at
the bar ; the five others, including a woman, named Catherine
Gattel, or Lacoste, having evaded capture. The prosecution was
conducted by M. Renard, procureur-general of the Cour Royale
of Montpelier, assisted by M. Aragon, the procureur du roi. The
prisoners were defended by four counsel. The indictment stated
that on the 27th of February, 1845, at ten in the evening, the
diligence going from Girona to Barcelona was stopped at a place
called Lo Sora de la Palla, near the village of La Thadere. The
traces were cut, the doors of the coach violently opened, and all
the passengers ordered, on pain of instant death, to alight
and lay themselves on the ground. The robbers then lighted
torches and searched the passengers, taking from their persons all
they could find, treating the women in the most indecent manner.
This done, they spread a cloak on the ground, and commanded
every one, with the most horrible threats, to cast upon it what-
(198)

SPANISH BRIGANDS. 199

ever money, jewels and other valuables they had about them,
and which might have escaped discovery. At the same time
the diligence was completely plundered. This, however, was
but a prelude to future outrages. Three of the passengers, M.
Bailber, M. Roger, of Piguieras, and M. Massot, Darams, whose
passports indicated them to be of greater consideration, were
seized and bound, to be carried off for the sake of their ransom.
The mother of M. Massot, who was travelling with him, cast
herself at the feet of the bandits, and entreated of them for
mercy to her son ; but they repelled her coarsely, saying that
if she did not cease to annoy them with cries, she should see her
son stabbed to death before her eyes. The sound of a shrill
whistle was then heard, upon which the brigands gathered up
thoir booty, cut the straps of the pantaloons of their three cap
tives, in order that they might be able to move more freely, and
led them away across the mountains, recommending those left
not to report what had occurred to them, or they would repent it.
On May 3d M. Massot wrote a letter to his mother, desiring
ber to send him 800 quadruples (rather more than 60,000f ,)
for his ransom, saying, " I am worn out by misery. The cold
distresses me, and these men torment me. A fever is killing
me, and yet I am obliged to march day and night, with pain and
grief, through the snow. All I know is that I am traversing
mountains. Embrace my brothers in the name of God, and
beg them not to fall into despair from my death, for I am already
resigned to it." Bailber who was of an advanced age, could
not long resist his great suffering, and in a very few days finding
himself sinking and unable to write, dictated his last will to
Roger, which, when finished, the brigands took into their hands,
judging they might derive some advantage from its possession.
The unhappy man was left alone in his agonies on the snow, and,
with a refinement of barbarity, the savages took from his shoul
ders the cloak he needed only for a few moments more. Three
days after that, the Spanish armed force came up with the band,
and an engagement ensued in which two of the soldiers were
killed, and several of the brigands wounded. Some days after the

^00 SPANISH BRIGfANDS.

attack on the diligence, Mme. Massot received a letter by the
Girona mail, signed with the name of Jacques Torquabus, telling
her that if she did not send the 800 quadruples to a place indi
cated, she should receive her son's ears, and if that did not re
duce her to compliance, they would send her his eyes, and if
those did not succeed she would at last have his mutilated head,
at the same time increasing their demand. On the 25th of
March the brigands and their two prisoners, when in a house
called Perrasole de Terrasole, near Tazadell, were attacked by
some armed police, and a conflict ensued, in which two of the
gendarmes were killed, and M. Roger received a ball in the back
of the neck, which laid him dead instantaneously. The band
then divided into two parties — ^five of them going to a place
called Manners, and eight with M. Massot, their sole remaining
captive, in search of the grotto of Bassagnda, where they might
conceal and secure him. After wandering for several days, lost
in fogs, they reached and crossed the Mouga, a river which di
vides the two kingdoms, and, finding the cave, were supplied
for two days with food, by two peasants of the country, who were
included in the indictment as accomplices. Hence four of the
eight bandits went to Les Salines to receive the one thousand
quadruples demanded of Mme. Massot for the release of her son,
taking up their abode at the inn of one of their associates, Parot
del Battle; but one of the four, named Pujade, taking some
offence, deserted the rest, returned to his master, and became the
principal means of discovering and arresting the whole band of
these brutal murderers. In consequence of the measures taken
by his information, all the brigands named in the indictment,
were pursued, found, and arrested. In the end, on reaching the
cave or grotto of Bassagnda, was discovered the lifeless body of
M. Massot, with the ears cut off, the throat divided, and eleven
poniard wounds in the region of the heart. In the loft of a farm
called Del Aloy, was afterwards found, wrapped in a paper, a pair
of human ears, with some of the hair of the head still sticking to
them by the clotted blood. TbBse were afterwards proved to be
the ears of the unfortunate Massot, which the eight brigands

SPANISH BRIGANDS. 201

who had excised them carelessly left there, little thinking how
clear a proof it would be of their having been the perpetrators of
this act of cruelty. As an evidence of their insensibility to all feel
ing of pity, when the ears were exhibited to them on their being
examined before the magistrate, they pretended not to know
what they were, calling them, with the most audacious levity,
dried mushrooms. It is also stated that after the death of their
two other captives, M. Bailber and M. Roger, the bandits sent
letters to their families, stipulating for large sums for their ran
som, which was to be sent to certain spots indicated, but which,
if they had been paid, would have been in pure loss, for those
sought to be redeemed were no longer in existence. The above
are the material facts disclosed by the accomplice Pujade, and
which were confirmed by the evidence that was produced. In
support of the prosecution, no fewer than one hundred and four
teen witnesses were summoned, all of whom attended the trial
except two or three. One having been declared not guilty was
ordered to be discharged. Pujade was condemned to imprison
ment for three years, and another for five years ; one to eight
years and another to ten years' close confinement and the pillory ;
one to ten years, and one to twenty years' hard labour at the
hulks with the pillory ; six to hard labour at the hulks for life,
on account of the jury having found that there were extenuating
circumstances in their favour, and four, among whom were Simon,
Sagals, and Icazes, to death. The court ordered that Simon
and Sagals should be executed at Ceret, and the other two at
Perpignan.

THE SMUGGLER'S LEAP— A PASSAGE IN THE
PYRENEES.
" Oh ! there's not in this wide world," I exclaimed, quite un
intentionally quoting Tom Moore ; " there never has been, nor
can ever be again so charming a creature. No nymph, or sylph,
or winged Ariel, or syren with song and mirror, was ever so
fascinating — no daughter of Eve so pretty and provoking !"
This apostrophe, which certainly appears, now that in cooler
.moments I recall it, rather rhapsodical, was not uttered viva voce
nor evensoWo voce, seeing that its object, Miss Dora M'Dermot,
was riding along only three paces in front of me, whilst her
brother walked by my side. It was a mere mental ejaculation,
elicited by the surpassing affections of the aforesaid Dora, who
assuredly was the most charming girl I had ever beheld. But
for the Pyrenean scenery around us, and the rough ill-condi
tioned mule, with its clumsy side saddle of discoloured leather
on which she was mounted, instead of the Spanish-jennet or
well-bred English palfrey that would best have suited so fair an
equestrian, I could, without any great exertion of fancy, have-
dreamed myself back to the days of the M'Gregor, and fancied
(202^

THE smuggler's leap. 203

that it was Die Vernon riding up the mountain side, gaily chat
ting as she went with the handsome cavalier who walked by her
stirrup, and who might have been Frank Osbaldistone, only that
be was too manly looking for Scott's somewhat effeminate hero.
Upon the second day of my arrival at the baths of St. Sau-
veur, in the Pyrenees, I had fallen in with my old friend and
college chum. Jack M'Dermot, who was taking his sister the
round of the French watering-places. Dora's health had been
delicate, the faculty had recommended the excursion ; and Jack,
who doated upon his only sister, had dragged her away from the
gaieties of London and brought her off to the Pyrenees. M'Der
mot was an excellent fellow, neither a wit nor a Solomon ; but
a good-hearted dog, who had been much liked at Trin. Coll.,
Dublin, where he had thought very little of his studies, and a
good deal of his horses and dogs. An Irishman, to be sure, oc
casionally a slight touch of the brogue was perceptible in his
talk ; but from this his sister, who had been brought up in
England, was entirely free. Jack had a snug estate of three
thousand a year ; Miss Dora had twenty thousand pounds from
her mother. She had passed two seasons in London ; and if she
was not already married, it was because not one of the fifty aspi
rants to her hand had found favour in her bright eyes. Lively
and high-spirited, with a slight turn for the satirical, she loved
her independence, and was difficult to please. I had been absent
from England nearly two years, on a continental tour , and al
though I had heard much of Miss M'Dermot, I had never seen
her till her brother introduced me to her at St. Sauveur. I had
not known her an hour, before I found myself to be in a fair
way to add another to the list of the poor moths who had singed
their wings at the perilous light of her beauty. When M'Dermot,
learning that, like themselves, I was on a desultory sort of a
ramble, and had not marked out any particular route, offered me
a seat in their carriage, and urged me to accompany them, instead
of prudently flying from the danger, I foolishly exposed myself
to it, and lo ! what might have been anticipated came to pass.
Before I had been two days in Dora's society, my doom was

204 THE smuggler's leap.

sealed; I had ceased to belong to myself; I was her slave, thi
slave of her sunny smile and bright eyes — talisman more
potent than any lamp or ring that djinn or fairy ever obeyed.
A fortnight had passed, and we were at B  . During that
time, the spell that bound me had been each day gaining strength.
As an intimate friend of her brother, I was already with Dora on
the footing of an old acquaintance ; she seemed well enough
pleased with my society, and chatted with me willingly and fami
liarly ; but in vain did I watch for some slight indication, a
glance or an intonation whence to derive hope. None such were
perceptible ; nor could the most egregious coxcomb have fancied
that they were. We once or twice fell in with other acquaintances
of hers and her brother's, and with them she had just the same
frank, friendly manner, as with me. I had not sufficient vanity,
however, to expect a woman, especially one so much admired as
Miss M'Dermot to fall in love at first sight with my humble per
sonality, and I patiently waited, trusting to time and assiduity
to advance my cause.
Things were in this state, when one morning, whilst taking an
early walk to the springs, I ran up against an English friend, by
name Walter Ashley. He was the son of a country gentleman
of moderate fortune, at whose house I had more than once
passed a week in the shooting season. Walter was an excellent
fellow, and a perfect model of the class to which he belonged.
By no means unpolished in his manners, he had yet a sort
of plain frankness and honhommie, which was peculiarly agree
able and prepossessing. He was not a university man, nor had he
received an education of the highest order ; spoke no language
but his own with any degree of correctness ; neither played the
fiddle, painted pictures, nor wrote poetry. On the other hand in
all manly exercises he was a proficient ; shot, rode, walked, and
danced to perfection; and the fresh originality, and pleasant
tone of his conversation, redeemed any deficiency of reading or
accomplishment. In personal appearance he was a splendid fel
low, nearly six feet in his boots, strongly, but at the same time,
symmetrically built ; although his size of limb and width of

THE smuggler's LEAP. 205

shoulder rendered him, at six-and-twenty, rather what is called a
fine man, than a slender or elegant ono. He had the true Anglo-
Saxon physiognomy, blue eyes, and light brown hair that waved,
rather than curled, round his broad handsome forehead. And,
then, what a mustache the fellow had ! (He was an officer in a
crack yeomanry corps.) Delighted to meet Ashley, I dragged
him off to the hotel, to introduce him to M'Dermot and his sis
ter. As a friend of mine they gave him a cordial welcome, and
we passed that day and the following ones together. I soon,
however, I must confess, began to repent a little having brought
my handsome friend into the society of Dora. She seemed
better pleased with him than I altogether liked, nor could I won
der at it. Walter Ashley was exactly tbe man to please a
woman of Dora's character. She was of rather a romantic turn,
and about him there was a dash of the chivalrous, well calculated
to captivate her imagination. Although perfectly feminine, she
was an excellent horsewoman, and an ardent admirer of feats of
address and courage, and she had heard me tell her brother of
Ashley's perfection in such matters. On his part, Ashley, like
every one else who saw her, was evidently greatly struck with
her beauty and fascination of manner. I cannot say that I was
jealous : I had no right to be so, for Dora had never given me
encouragement ; but I certainly more than once regretted having
introduced a third person into what — honest Jack M'Dermot
counting of coarse, for nothing — had previously been a sort of
tete-a-tete society. I began to fear that, thanks to myself, my
occupation was gone, and Ashley had got it.
It was the fifth day after our meeting with Walter, and we had
started early in the morning upon an excursion to a neighbour
ing lake, the scenery around which, we were told, was particularly
wild and beautiful. It was situated on a piece of table-land on
the top of a mountain, which we could see from the hotel window.
The distance was barely ten miles, and the road being rough and
precipitous, M'Dermot, Ashley, and myself, had chosen to walk
rather than to risk our necks by riding the broken-knee'd ponies
^t were offered to us. A sure-footed mule, and indifferent
13

206 THE smuggler's leap.

side-saddle, had been procured for Miss M'Dermot, and was at
tended by a wild-looking Bearnese boy, or gossoon, as her brother
called him, a creature like a grasshopper, all legs and arms, with
a scarred countenance, and long lank black hair hanging in irre
gular shreds about his face.
There is no season more agreealile in the Pyrenees than the
month of September. People are very apt to expatiate on the
delights of autumn, its mellow beauty, pensive charms and such
like. I confess that in a general way I like the youth of the
year better than its decline, and prefer the bright green tints of
spring, with the summer in prospective, to the melancholy
autumn, its russet hues and falling leaves ; its regrets for fine
weather past, and anticipations of bad to come. But if there
be any place where I should be tempted to reverse my judgment,
it would be in Southern France, and especially its western and
central portion. The clear cloudless sky, the moderate heat suc
ceeding to the sultriness, often overpowering, of the summer
months, the magnificent vineyards and merry vintage time, the
noble groves of chesnut, clothing the lower slopes of the moun
tains, the bright streams and flower-spangled meadows of Beam
and Languedoc, render no part of the year more delightful in
those countries than the months of September and October.
As before mentioned, Dora rode a little in front, with Ashley
beside her, pointing out the beauties of the wild scenery through
which we passed, and occasionally laying her hand upon her
bridle to guide the mule over some unusually rugged portion of
the almost trackless mountain. M'Dermot and I were walking
behind, a little puffed by the steepness of the ascent ; our guide,
whose name was Cadet, a name answered to by every second man
one meets in that part of France, strode along beside us, like a
pair of compasses with leathern lungs. Presently, the last-
named individual turned to me —
" Ces messieurs veulent-ils voir le Saut delou Contrahandiste?"
said he, in the barbarous dialect of the district, half French,
half patois, with a small dash of Spanish.
" Le Saut du Contrebandier, the Smuggler's Leap— what ig

the smuggler's leap. 207

that?" asked Dora, who had overheard the question, turning
round her graceful head, and dazzling us — me at least — ^by a
sudden view of her lovely faee, now glowing with exercise and
the mountain air.
The smuggler's leap, so Cadet informed us, was a narrow cleft
in the rock, of vast depth, and extending for a considerable dis
tance across a flank of the mountain. It owed its name to the
following incident: — Some five years previously, a smuggler,
known by the name of Juan le Negre, or Black Juan, had for a
considerable period, set the custom-house officers at defiance,
and brought great discredit on them by his success in passing
contraband goods from Spain. In vain did they lie in ambush
and set snares for him ; they could never come near him, or if
they did it was when he was backed by such a force of the hardy
desperadoes carrying on the same lawless traffic, that the douan-
iers were either forced to beat a retreat or get fearfully mauled
in the contest that ensued. One day, however, three of these
green-coated guardians of the French revenue caught a sight of
Juan alone and unarmed. They pursued him, and a rare race
he led them, over cliff and crag, across rock and ravine,
until at last they saw with exultation that- he made right
for the chasm in question, and there they made sure of se
curing him. It seemed as if he had forgotten the position of the
cleft, and only remembered it when he got within a hundred
yards or thereabouts, for then he slackened his pace. The
douaniers gained on him, and expected him to desist from
his flight and surrender. What was their surprise and conster
nation when they saw him, on reaching the edge of the chasm,
spring from the ground with izard-like agility, and by one
bold leap clear the yawning abyss. The douaniers uttered a
shout of rage and disappointment, and two of them ceased run
ning ; but the third, a man of great activity and courage, and
who had frequently sworn to earn the reward set on the head of
Juan, dared the perilous jump. He fell short ; his head was
dashed against the opposite rock, and his horror-struck compa
nions, gazing down into the dark depth beneath, saw hia body

208 THE smuggler's leap.

strike against the crags on its way to the bottom of the abyss
The smuggler escaped, and the spot where the tragical incident
occurred was thenceforward known as " Le Saut du Gontrehan-
dier." Before our guide had finished his narrative, we were unanimous
in our wish to visit its scene, which we reached by the time he
had brought the tale to a conclusion. It was certainly a most
remarkable chasm, whose existence was only to be accounted for
by reference to the volcanic agency of which abundant traces
exist in Southern France. The whole side of the mountain was
cracked and rent asunder, forming a narrow ravine of vast depth,
in the manner of the famous Mexican barrancas. In some
places might be traced a sort of correspondence on the opposite
sides ; a recess on one side into which a projection on the other
would have nearly fitted, could some Antaeus have closed the fis
sure. This, however, was only here and there ; generally speaking,
the rocky brink was worn by the action of time and water, and the
rock composing it sloped slightly downwards. The chasm was
of various width, but ¦ was narrowest at the spot at which we
reached it, and really did not appear so very terrible a leap
as Cadet made it out to be. On looking down, a confusion of
bush-covered crags was visible ; and now that the sun was high,
a narrow stream was to be seen, flowing, like a line of silver at
the bottom ; the ripple and rush of the water, repeated by the
echoes of the ravine, ascending to our ears with a noise like that
of a cataract. On a large fragment of rock, a few yards from
the brink, was rudely carved a date, and below it two letters.
They were the initials, so our guide informed us, of the unfortu
nate douanier who had there met his death.
We had remained for half a minute or so gazing down into
the ravine, when Ashley, who was on the right of the party,
broke silence.
" Pshaw !" said he, stepping back from the edge, " that's no
leap. Why, I '11 jump across it myself"
" For Heaven's sake !" cried Dora.
" Ashley," I exclaimed, " don't be a fool!"

THE smuggler's LEAP. 209

Bwt ii wan too late. What mad impulse possessed him I can
not say, but certain I am, from my knowledge of his character,
that it was no foolish bravado or school boy desire to show off,
that seduced him to so wild a freak. The fact was, but for the
depth below, the leap did not look at all formidable ; not above
four or five feet, but in realitj it was a deal wider. It was pro
bably this deceitful appearanee, and perhaps the feeling whioh
Englishmen are apt to entertain, thtit for feats of strength and
agility no men surpass them, that convinced Walter of the ease
with which he could jump across. Before we could stop him he
took a short run and jumped.
A scream from Dora was echoed by an exclamation of horror
from M'Dermot and myself. Ashley had cleared the chasm and
alighted on the opposite edge, but it was shelving and slippery,
and his feet slid from under him. For one moment it appeared
as if he would instantly be dashed to pieces, but in falling ho
managed to catch the edge of the rock which at that place
formed an angle. There he hung by his hands, his whole body
in the air, without a possibility of raising himself ; far below
the edge the rock was smooth and receding, and even could he
have reached it, he would have found no foot-hold. One despe
rate effort he made to grasp a stunted and leafiess sapling that
grew in a crevice at not more than a foot from the edge, but it
failed, and nearly caused his instant destruction. Desisting from
further effort he hung motionless, his hands convulsively cramped
to the ledge of rock, which afforded so slippery and difficult a
hold, that his sustaining himself by it at all seemed a miracle,
and could only be the result of uncommon muscular power. It
was evident that no human strength could possibly maintain him
for more than a minute or two in that position ; below was an
abyss, a hundred or more feet deep — to all appearance his last
hour was come.
M'Dermot and I stood aghast and helpless, gazing with open
mouths and strained eyeballs at our unhappy friend. What
could we do ? Were we to dare the leap, which one far more
active and vigorous than ourselves had unsuccessfully attempted ?
18*

210 THE smuggler's LEAP.

It would have been courting destruction, without a chance of
saving Ashley. But Dora put us to shame. One scream, and
only one, she uttered, and then, gathering up her habit, she
sprang unaided from her mule. Her cheek was pale as the
whitest marble, but her presence of mind was unimpaired, and
she seemed to gain courage and decision in the moment of peril.
" Your cravats, your handkerchiefs !" cried she, unfastening,
as she spoke, her long cashmere scarf. Mechanically M'Dermot
and myself obeyed. With the speed of light and a woman's
dexterity she knotted together her scarf, a long silk cravat which
I gave her, M'Dermot's handkerchief and mine, and securing
— how I know not — a stone at either extremity of the rope thus
formed, she threw one end of it, with sure aim and steady hand,
across the ravine and round the sapling already referred to. Then
leaning forward till I feared she would fall into the chasm, and
sprang forward to hold her back, she let go of the other end.
Ashley's hold was already growing feeble, his fingers were torn
by the rock, the blood started from under his nails, and he
turned his face towards us with a mute prayer for succour. At
that moment the two ends of the shawl fell against him, and
he instinctively grasped them. It was a moment of fearful
suspense. Would the knots so hastily made resist the tension
of his weight ? They did so ; he raised himself by strength
of wrist. The sapling bent and bowed, but his hand was now
close to it. He grasped it; another powerful effort, the last
effort of despair, and he lay exhausted and almost senseless upon
the rocky brink. At the same moment, with a cry of joy, Dora
fell fainting into her brother's arms.

BUSSONE.

-PHE CARMAGNOLE.
The Carmagnole was the name of a song and dance which be
came popular during the terrible days of the French Revolution.
Expressive of a quick step, lively and animating, the air was a
prodigious favourite with the Parisian mobs at that time, who used
to call for it from military bands and the orchestras of theatres,
and join in dancing to it, singing at the same time the doggrel
verses which had been composed for it: — some of which are
here translated. They evidently bear reference to the first
triumphs over the royal family and their friends in August
and September, 1792, (Monsieur Veto was a nickname for
Louis XVI.)— Madame Veto declared that she
Would slaughter send through all Paris ;
She lost, as it appears,
Thanks to our canoneers,
Let us dance the Carmagnole, &o.

Monsieur Veto did vow that he
Would to his country faithful be :
How has he kept his word ?
No quarter — now the sword !
Let us dance, &c.

(211)

212 THE CARMAGNOLE.

Antoinette resolved, good lack ;
To make us faJl upon our back ;
She missed ; and a« we rose,
She got a broken nose.
Let us dance, &e.
Pm a sans-culotte, and sing,
Spite the council and the king ;
Hurra Marseilles — the cause,
The Bretons, and the laws.
Let us dance, &c.
We '11 remember long and sure,
The Sana- Culottes of Gie faubourg:
Drink we merrily,
Dogs of Liberty.
Let us dance, &c.
The singing and dancing of the Carmagnole became the signal
of ferocious assaults on authority, and the expression of savage
rejoicings over it. On any occasion of excitement on the streets,
round the scaffold, even within the walls of the convention,
troops of sans-culottes would be seen circling round with beating
feet to this tune, with faces full of dreadful meaning. The very
prisoners whom suspicion condemned to the risk of a horrible
death, no one could say how soon, would cheer themselves with
the Carmagnole. " Dansons le Carmagnole !" were amongst the
most familiar words known in Paris during at least a couple of
years. Fashion appropriated the word, and applied it to a pecu
liar form of blouse, with wide sleeves, worn bythe revolutionists,
and all those who wished to make a show of their patriotism.
Barrere, and some other members of the convention, also gave the
name of Carmagnoles to the measures passed by that body, and to
some of the orations delivered from the parliamentary tribune in
fanatical phraseology having reference to the veto or opposition of
the government or to the victories of the army. The song and the
new-fashioned garment both disappeared with the reign of terror.
Our readers may be curious to learn the history of a word so
celebrated. Not far from the right bank of the Po, near the

THE CARMAGNOLE. 213

city of Turin, there lived, in the year 1405, a youth, aged fif
teen, who had earned agood character as keeper of sheep on the
farm where he was employed. No prowling wolf, driven by
hunger from the hills, or roving man-at-arms, whose trade was
war and rapine, had ever been able to elude his watchfulness.
They had sometimes it is true, set his courage at defiance, but
with a result that made them repent of their temerity, until at
last he was known throughout the country as " the bold shep
herd, Francesco Bartolomeo Bussone."
During the time that Francesco was thus tending sheep, war
broke out in Italy ; a war of parties ; and so eager was the
struggle for supremacy, that the highways were infested by bands
of- condottieri, troops who hired themselves to the best pay
master, or to the chieftain most ready to accord them sack and
pillage in the cities taken by storm. Facino Cane was one ot
those partizan leaders, who fought indifferently for Venice or
Genoa, Milan or Turin, careless whether their banner bore the
evangelical lion of St. Mark, or the silver cross of Sardinia. At
that time no person-below the rank of a noble could rise to the
command of regular troops ; but to be a leader in the companies
of Facino Cane, the only qualifications required were a whole
some contempt of danger, and such skill in strategy as might de
ceive an enemy or decide a victory.
Francesco was sleeping by the roadside on one of those eve
nings when, in Italy, the declining sun paints the sky in golden
splendor, and the fieecy clouds glow with hues as of some far-off
conflagration. A man passing by stopped, and commanded the
young shepherd to rise ; whereupon Francesco opened his eyes
and rose to his feet. The stranger regarded him with a scruti
nizing eye, and said musingly, "There is a man's stature."
" And a man's heart," rejoined Francesco, raising his arm to
strike the intruder, who had aroused him so unceremoniously.
" I am Facino Cane," replied the connoiseur of bone and muscle ;
on hearing which the arm of the shepherd remained suspended
for an instant, and then fell unnerved to his side. " Yes, Facino
Cane, who bas risen from the ranks in the troops of Viaconti,

214 THE CARMAGNOLE.

and made himself Prince of Tortone and Vercelli, because the
world belongs to men of heart." " In that case," answered Fran
cesco, " I have to demand my portion of inheritance from Italy."
" Here is the key of your ducal castle," added Facino, buckling
a heavy sword to the young man's side, whose eyes sparkled as
he followed the soldier-prince in his journeys over the country,
recruiting his army with all those who, to the stature of a man,
added the desire for military honours.
In 1424, the marriage of the Count of Castel Nuovo with
Antoinette Visconti, niece of Philippe Marie, Duke of Milan,
was celebrated in the capital of the duchy. The palace del Bro-
letto, built for the newly wedded pair, resounded with festive
songs; while the blazonry of escutcheons, hanging on the wain-
scotted walls of the hall of state, showed with what proud titles
the sovereign duke honoured a subject in his royal alliance. One
commemorated the taking of Plaoenza, another the surrender of
Brescia, a third the siege of Bergami; on the other side the
guests might read, Milan reconquered, and the reunion of
Genoa to the ducal crown ; while in the centre of a trophy rose,
straight and glittering, the great sword given by Facino Cane
to the shepherd Francesco Bartolomeo Bussone, become success
ively captain and general, under the name of Carmagnole ; and
afterwards, by the marriage now spoken of, count, and nephew
of the duke of Milan.
Not long after, a man accused of having excited the enthusiasm
of his soldiers, of having won the love of conquered people by
his moderation in the hour of victory, and of having, in short,
injured his master by his high position in the esteem and admi
ration of foreigners, was seen slowly following the road to Venice.
He left behind him the immense wealth he had won, confiscated
by the unjust avarice of his sovereign ; and without knowing
where to find a shelter, he carried nothing but the great sword
of Facino Cane, and the ineffaceable glory associated with his
name. It is said that one evening, overcome with fatigue, he
knocked at the door of a mean cottage, and being without the
means of paying for a lodging, he ventured to mention a name

THE CARMAGNOLE. 215

proscribed by the law in support of his request for a shelter be
neath the humble roof. The whole family fell at the feet of the
great general. The women offered their tenderest cares, the
men volunteered unlimited services, and a little child was named
Felix Glorioso (Happy and glorious) on the spot, from having
touched, in his play, the hilt of the sword of Carmagnole.
In 1430, there was at Venice a general of fortune, whom
princes even, in the service of the republic, considered it an
honour to obey. Having escaped tbe dagger of an assassin, sent
by Duke Philippe Marie of Milan, to acquit a debt of gratitude by
a murder, the new Venetian general received from the hands of the
doge, before the altar of St. Mark, the standard and baton of
commander, which assured to him the supreme authority over
the armies and territory of Venice. This man, loaded with
honours and riches, who extended every day the limits of the re
public, and consolidated her power, was again Carmagnole.
The 5th of June, 1432, the ministers of justice led a man bound
and gagged between the two columns of the Piazetta of Venice.
An assistant forced his head down upon the block which stood
prepared, and the executioner, with one blow, struck off the head
of the sufferer, already half dead with grief and torture. The
crime publicly brought against him, was that of having per
mitted four hundred prisoners of war to return to the cultivation
of their fields. The secret accusation was, however, having
merited the confidence of the senate, without leaving any room
to suspect his fidelity to the republic; and as his infiuenee over
the army could not be diminished without failing in the recom
pense due to him, he was made the victim of an unjust trial,
under the impression that there was less of ingratitude in taking
his life, than in the exhibition of distrust after all the services
he had rendered.
Is it necessary to add that this man, whom tyranny doomed to
a traitor's death, but whose whole life had been that of a hero,
was the Sardinian shepherd boy, the companion of Facino Cane,
the saviour of Duke Philippe Marie of Milan, the protector of

216

THE CARMAGNOLE.

Venice; in one word, Francesco Bartolomeo Bussone, surnamed
Carmagnole ?
It was orignally to celebrate this popular hero that the song
and dance of the Carmagnole took their rise in Piedmont in the
fifteenth century. Strange with what different associaticais the
name was to be afterwards invested.

CARMAGNOLE THE SHEPHERD AT HIS MORNINO DEVOTIONS.

CHARLES AND SUSANNE.— A REAL INCIDENT.
Some months after the battle of Waterloo, Captain Thierry,
at eight o clock in the evening, was standing in the court of the
great post-house, one arm in a scarf, and the other loaded with a
small trunk, which contained nearly all the fortune of the offi
cer on half-pay ; (for such was the condition of the captain, who
departed in '89 from Candebec, with a few crowns in his pocket,
to enrol himself at Paris,) returned to his country in 1812, no
richer than he was about twenty-six years before, but the bearer of
most honourable badges of service, covered with glorious wounds,
decorated with the cross of tbe legion of honour, and with the
rank of captain. He was forty-five years old. The captain
gave his little trunk to the post-boy, and awaited Ihe moment of
departure. The conductor gave the signal, placed every body,
then, opening the door of the interior —
" Captain Thierry," said he, " Madame the Marquise of Belle-
Chasse, and her waiting-maid."
The captain moved courteously, to let the ladies . get in, and
then took his seat. He braced himself in a comer ; and, having
placed his wounded arm in such a manner as to. suffer as little as
possible, he tried to sleep. The Marquise de Belle-Chasse was
quite as silent on her part, and the timid voice of the maid was
only heard from time to time, when she asked, " Is Madame la
Marquise well ? Is Madame la Marquise cold ? Does she wish me
to put a shawl around her feet ? Does she wish her flask of ether ?"
" No, Lise," replied the marquise ; " I wish for nothing ; I
am perfectly comfortable."
While trying to fall asleep, the captain actually did so; and
for some hours he had forgotten the marquise and her msiid, when
the diligence suddenly stopped, and he awoke.
19 (217)

218 CHARLES AND SUSANNE.

" Monsieur officer," exclaimed the marquise, " save us !"
" Very willingly, madame," replied the captain, throwing off
bis cloak. " What's the matter ?"
"Robbers, monsieur!" said the marquise: "robbers! They
say we are in the Black Forest."
The captain put his head out of the door, and saw that the
diligence was surrounded by fifteen or twenty gallants, well
mounted and well armed. The postillion was off his horse, the
conductor had left his seat, and both were tied in such a manner
that they could make no further resistance. Three or four of
these audacious robbers were already in the imperial, and rifiing
every packet of its contents : others had cut the horses' traces
and broken one of the wheels of the diligence, which at any
moment, might lose its equilibrium, and upset.
" Madame," said the captain, " it is impossible for me to serve
you ; we are attacked in such a fashion that we must surrender
without a blow, unless we die like heroes on the field of battle;
and I confess to you that it would be very painful to me, who all
my life have fronted the fire of the enemy's soldiers, to perish
on the highway, and that, too, by the hand of a robber. Be
sides I am unarmed, and wounded in the right arm."
He was still speaking, when the chief of the troop opened the
door and begged the captain and his companions to have the good
ness to alight.
" Gentlemen," said the captain, placing himself before the mar
quise and her maid, " there are two things which, living, I will
never allow: one is, insult to ladies; the other, this cross of
honour to be taken from my breast, which I have gained with tha
price of my blood."
" You may keep your cross, monsieur," said one of the rob
bers politely, " but you will give us your watch."
" Certainly," replied the captain, drawing from his .fob a
beautiful gold watch.
" As for the ladies," continued the robber, " they have nothing
to fear, if they are only reasonable ; if they will give us their
purses, their gold chains, and especially," added the robber, ap-

CHARLES AND SUSANNE. 219

proaching the marquise, " if madame will confide to me that
little jewel whioh ornaments her pretty hand."
It was a large diamond, a solitaire, which glided from the mar
quise's slender fingers into the callous hand of the robber. All
was done in an instant ; the booty placed on their horses, which,
mounted by the bold horsemen, started off at a full gallop.
It was nearly midnight. The travellers assembled on the
highway ; they first untied the postillion and conductor, who
were fastened back to back, and then consulted on the means of
continuing their journey, or, at least, of finding a shelter for
the night. Fortunately they had not far to go to reach the
town of Vernon ; the captain gave his arm to the marquise, and
at the end of half an hour Madame de Belle-Chasse was seated
by a good fire, opposite the captain, and both of them relished
an excellent cup of tea, concealed by the maid from the investi
gation of the robbers. *¦
" Indeed," said Madame de Belle-Chasse, speaking to herself,
" it was only from the marquise."
" And I," said the captain, in his turn, perfectly comprehend
ing her, " I only had it from the watch-maker, and it was not as
good as he warranted it."
There was a moment's silence, and the captain, who had lost
a little of his dislike for marquises, or perhaps the events of the
night had made him forget his political prejudices, drew nearer
to Madame de Belle-Chasse, whose veil half hid her face, and
said familiarly —
" Parbleu ! madame, this route is favourable — fatal, I mean, to
me. It is not the first time that I have been stopped on it."
" Indeed, monsieur !"
" Yes, madame ; and I confess that souvenir is one of the
sweetest of my life. Imagine that in '90 — I was twenty then,
and had left Caudebec to go to Paris, republican as all were then.
Pardon, madam — "
" Not at all, monsieur, not at all ; opinions are free."
" This marquise is very liberal," thought the captain.
He wanted to see the face of the marquise, but a green veil

220 CHARLES AND SUSANNE.

nearly covered it ; yet, from a smile on her lips he ventured to
proceed. " I was then a republican," said he, " and I was going to Paris
to demand arms and a passport to the frontier. At Rouen I
took a bad carriage into which about fifteen passengers were
stowed in the most uncomfortable manner, and which took two
days to go thirty leagues. In those times there were robbers — "
"As well as now, monsieur."
" Oh ! madame, many more, and far more dangerous ; the
chouans, forgers, and companies of Jesuits, terrible frequenters
of the highways, who, under political pretexts, infested the roads,
and killed peasants even in their cottages. We were assailed,
as we were to-night, by ferocious men, plunderers and assassins ;
they were quite numerous, and, as at this time, all resistance was
useless. They made us leave the carriage, forced us to sit down
on the roadsi(ie, and brutally searched us. What should we do ?
Let ourselves be killed by the brigands ? It would be to die a
useless and almost shameful death. The two or three men who
were with me in the carriage submitted ; I did the same. I had
a young citoyenne near me. Pardon, madame ; they were called
citizens then."
"Proceed, monsieur," said the marquise.
" A young woman. Ah ! madame, I have travelled over all
Europe, Italy, Spain, Germany, Poland, and never saw one so
beautiful, so graceful, so perfect. The poor child was from
Rouen ; she was going to Paris to be married to a jockey, to
whom she had been betrothed, and carried her dowrie in her
bodice." " In her bodice, monsieur?" exclaimed the marquise.
" Yes, madame," replied the captain. " Susanne, (that was
her name,) needed no fortune ; had I been king, I would have
shared uiy crown with her, only for her beautiful eyes ; she had,
nevertheless, stitched sixty louis in her bodice, which she was
carrying with her to her betrothed."
" Do you believe," asked the marquise, " that she loved the
jockey ?"

CHARLES AND SUSANNE. 221

*' He was from Rouen as well as she ; their parents had ar
ranged the marriage, and she asked nothing but to love him.
But you are going to see. The chouans began with me ; I had
no watch then, nor captain's epaulettes ; but they robbed me of
a few crowns in my little purse, then went to Susanne ; they
searched her. One Chouan, very skilful in his profession, dis
covered without difficulty the young girl's treasure ; and in a
wink the lace which confined her bodice was cut, and Susanne's
dower passed into the bands of those gentlemen. The young
girl was near me, sitting close by the fence, weeping and half
clad. I began by giving her an old cloak, which had not tempted
the robbers' cupidity. Then, on seeing her so beautiful, I com
prehended there was something more precious than her doWer.
I said to her, ' Citoyenne, we are in bad hands ; trust me, and let
us get away from this place.' She thought as I did, and decided
to follow me. We crouched along the road in ..^hc dark, and
when we thought we had got far enough, we arose, took each
other's hand, and ran without knowing where.
" At length daylight appeared. We were in a little village,
whose name I have forgotten, but which was not far from the
road to Paris, and both of us were without a sous; she without
a bodice, I without a cloak ; we took the road to the capital ;
that unites a great deal madame."
" I believe so," said the marquise.
" At Paris, the business was to find Susanne's jockey. I
might have injured her in seeking for him ; she undertook it all
alone. I saw her depart with tears in her eyes.''
" May heaven conduct you, citoyenne Susanne," said I, " and
make you as happy as you deserve to be."
"Had I made the campaign of Italy before that time, I should
have found something else to have said to her. She appeared,
on her part, sorry to leave me ; I was then a handsome youth,
ruddy and well-built, such as I still was five years ago in my
regiment, where they called me the handsome captain. I gave
her my address, told her to count on me, if she had need of as
sistance or protection, and at last we separated. Two hours
19*

222 CHARLES AND SUSANNE.

afterwards, she returned to me. Would you believe^that her
jockey did not want her ? He was a coarse young man, avari
cious, more tempted with the dower than the young girl ; he
would have refused Venus herself, if she had not sixty louis ;
he proved it, for Susanne was as beautiful as Venus. She . was
then -with me, who loved her, and whom she loved; refiised by
Jean Crochart, (that was the jockey's name,) and not daring to
return to her parents, because her fortune had been stolen from
her. She had not a sous ; I was a little richer than she, for I
had found a relation who had lent me fifty crowns. I put my
little fortune into her hands, and soon afterwards they called me
into the army.
" I left her, and with her I left my heart. For fifteen years
I wrote from Italy, Egypt and Spain. It is now ten years since
I have written to her, but I had always hoped. Since Waterloo,
I have hoped no longer. The old soldier has lost all, his
emperor, rank in the world, his eagles, and her whom he
loved. Pardon, madame ! perhaps you do not understand such
things." " Charles ! Charles !" exclaimed the marquise, " do you not
recognise me ?"
The captain sprang upon his chair ; his movement was so
violent that he upset his cup of tea. He lifted the green veil
which covered the marquise's face.
"You Susanne?" said he; "you Susanne, Madame la
Marquise ?"
And he looked at the black eyes, still beautiful, although she
was as much as forty-three ; the forehead white, and the lips still
rosy ; a tranquil life had prolonged her youth.
" Yes, 'tis I !" said the marquise ; " and although I am
a widow, I have been almost as faithful as you, for I have always
loved you. If I did not answer your letters, it was because I
only received the first ones, and not knowing at that time how
to read or write, the idea of taking a third into our confidence
was repugnant to me. You advised me to return to Rouen — it
was impracticable ; you do not know how. sensible a Norman

CHARLES AND SUSANNE. 223

family are to the loss of sixty louis. They would not have re
ceived me at home ; I remained in Paris ; still I must live. A
young marquis, who wished neither to serve the republic nor go
to foreign countries fell in love with me. I loved you ; I had
no difficulty in remaining wise. Then the Marquis of Belle-
Chasse proposed to marry me at the altar of reason. I saw
through his intentions, and I told him he would not lead me be
fore the altar of reason, until we had been married by a priest.
He consented. As I have already told you, I did not love him ; and
I soon saw that he was a feeble being, whom it was necessary to
govern, to avoid being unhappy with him — for there is nothing
worse than being governed by weak people. I easily escaped
this danger, and for twenty years he was my humble servitor.
He knew nothing. more than to regret his lost nobility, and died,
very mal apropos, two or three years before the return of those
whom he called masters, and his death has left me a rich dowa
ger. I have, my good Charles, houses in Paris ; I have claims
on the estate ; I have, in fine, at two leagues from Rouen, the
superb estate of Belle-Chasse."
At this moment, whieh was about day-break, Lise entered the
room where the marquise and the captain were sitting, to tell
them that a diligence was going that very instant from Vernon,
and that it had places to accommodate both the marquise and
the captain.
" Captain," said the marquise, "it is impossible for you to go
as far as Caudebec without suffering a great deal ; you are
wounded, and you have no orders for the hospital; you must go
to Belle-Chasse."
This proposition was accepted, and the souvenirs of love were
so sweet and so powerful — the captain was still a handsome man
— that M. Thierry left Belle-Chasse only to go and visit his old
father, and get indispensable papers. He afterwards returned,
and married the marquise. Thus the poor officer on half-pay be
came a rich proprietor.
Some days after the wedding, a fat individual, in a blue

224 CHARLES AND SUSANNE.

jacket and cap d'astracan, presented himself in the saloon, just
after breakfast.
" Pardon, excuse monsieur and madame," said he, with a cant
ing smile ; " you do not recognize me !"
" Ah !" said the marquise, " you were conductor when we
were stopped on the high-way. Very well, there was no harm
in it."
"Indeed, madame! There's a reasonable person! They do
not at all resemble you in the post-house. They want even to
make me pay for the wheel which the robbers broke, and I come
to ask for a certificate — "
" Very willingly, my friend," said the captain, without giving
him time to finish his sentence. " What is your name ?"
"Jean Crochart!" said the captain.
" Jean Crochart !" repeated Madame Thierry, with that dis-
dainftil air which women always have to men who have proved
themselves unworthy. " Jean Crochart, formerly a jockey ?"
" Yes, madam, at your service."
"Very well, sirrah! Go down to the office; my husband
will send you the certificate you want ; and if the administration
of the post make you pay for the broken wheel, write to me, and
I will reimburse you."
Jean Crochart obeyed, and left the chateau de Belle-Chasse
without ever suspecting that he had refused the hand of Madame
Thierry, or by what strange chance Susanne and Charles had
been reunited, after one had acquired glory, and the other a
fortune.

THE WALCHEREN EXPEDITION.
After the disastrous retreat to Corunna, the Rifles were re
duced to a sickly skeleton, if I may so term it. Out of perhaps
nine hundred of as active and fine fellows as ever held a weapon
in the field of an enemy's country, we paraded some three
hundred weak and crest-fallen invalids.
I myself stood the third man in my own company, which was
reduced from near a hundred men to but three. Indeed, I think
we had scarce a company on parade stronger than ten or twelve
men, at the first' parade. After a few parades, however, our
companies gradually were augmented, (by those of the sick who
recovered,) but many of those who did not sink in hospital,
were never more of much service as soldiers.
After a while, some of the strongest and smartest of our men
wore picked out to go on the recruiting service, and gather men
from the militia regiment to fill up our ranks. I myself started
off with Lieut. Pratt, Serjeant-Major Adams, and William Bro-
therwood, the latter of whom was afterwards killed at Vittoria
by a cannon-ball, which at the same moment ended Patrick
Mahon and Lieut. Hopwood.
I was a shoemaker in the corps, and had twenty pounds in my
pocket, which I had saved up. With this money I hired a gig,
and the serjeant-major and myself cut a very smart figure. The
only difficulty was, that neither of us knew how to drive very
well, consequently we overturned the gig on the first day, before
we got half-way on our journey, and the shafts being broken we
were obliged to leave it behind us in a small village, midway
Hythe and Rye, and take to our legs, as was more soldier-like
and seemly. We reached Rye the first night, and I recollect
that I succeeded in getting the first recruit there, a strong, able-
(225)

226 THE WALCHEREN EXPEDITION.

bodied chimney-sweep, named John Lee. This fellow (whose
appearance I was struck with as he sat in the taproom of the
Red Lion on that night, together with a little boy as black and
sooty as himself) offered to enlist the moment I entered the room,
and I took him at his word ; and immediately called for the ser-
jeant-major for approval.
" There's nothing against my being a soldier," said the sweep,
"but my black face; I'm strong, active, and healthy, and able
to lick the best man in this room."
"Damn your blackface," said the serjeant-major; " the Ri
fles can't be too dark ; you're a strong rascal, and if you mean
it, we'll take you to the doctor to-morrow and make a giniril of
you the next day." So we had the sweep that night into
a large tub of water, and scoured him outside, and filled him with
punch inside, and made a rifleman of him.
The serjeant-major, however, on this night, suspected from his
countenance, what afterwards turned out to be the case, that Lee
was rather a slippery fellow, and might repent. So after filling
him drunk, he said to me — " Harris, you have caught this bird,
and you must keep him fast. You must both sleep to-night
handcuffed together in the same bed, or he will escape us ;"
which I actually did, and the next morning retraced my steps
with him to Hythe, to be passed by the doctor of our regiment.
After rejoining Sergeant-Major Adams at Rye, we started off
for Hastings to Sussex, and on our way we heard of the East
Kent militia at Lydd ; so we stopped there about an hour to
display ourselves before them, and try if we could coax a few
of them into the Rifles. We strutted up and down before their
ranks arm and arm, and made no small sensation amongst them.
When on the recruiting service in those days, men were ac
customed to make as gallant a show as they could, and accord
ingly we had both smartened ourselves up a trifle. The serjeaut-
major was quite a beau, in his way; he had a sling belt to his
sword like a field officer, a tremendous green feather in his cap,
a flaring sash, hii whistle and powder-flask displayed, an officer's
pelisse over one shoulder, and a double allowance of ribbons in

THE -WALCHEREN EXPEDITION. 227

his cap ; whilst I myself was also as smart as I dared appear,
with my rifle slung at my shoulder.
In this guise we made as much of ourselves as if we had both
been generals, and, as I said, created quite a sensation, the mili
tia-men cheering us as we passed up and down, till they were
called to order by the officers.
The permission to volunteer was not then given to the East
Kent, although it came out a few days afterwards, and we per
suaded many men, during the hour we flgured before them,
that the rifles were the only boys fit for tJiem to join.
After looking up the East Kent, we reached Hastings that
same night, where we found that the volunteering of the Leices
ter militia, (who were quartered there) had commenced, and that
one hundred and twenty-five men and two officers had given their
names to the 7th Fusileers, and these Adams and I determined
to make change their mind in our favour if we could.
The appearance of our rifle uniform, and a little of serjeant
Adams' blarney, so took the fancies of the volunteers, that we
got every one of them into the rifle corps, and both officers into
the bargain. We worked bard in this business. I may say that
for three days and nights we kept up the dance and the drunken
riot. Every volunteer got ten guineas bounty, which except the
two kept back for necessaries, they spent in every sort of
excess, till all was gone. Then came the reaction. The droop
ing spirits, the grief at parting with old comrades, sweet-hearts,
and wives, for the uncertain fate of war. And then came on
the jeers of the old soldier ; the laughter of Adams and myself,
and comrades, and our attempts to give a fillip to their spirits as
we marched them off from the friends they were never to look
upon again ; and, as we termed it, " shove them on to glory" —
a glory they were not long in achieving, as out of the hundred
and fifty Leicestershire, which we enlisted in Hastings, scarce
one man, I should say, who served, but could have shown at
the year's end some token of the fields he had fought in ; very
many found a grave, aud some returned to Hythe with the loss
of their limbs.

228 THE WALCHEREN EXPEDITION.

I remember the story of many of these men's lives ; one in
particular named Demon, who, I myself enlisted from the Lei
cestershire militia, is not a little curious. Demon was a smart and
very active man, and serving as corporal in the light company of
the Leicestershire when I persuaded him to join our corps, where
he was immediately made a serjeant in the 3d battalion, then
just forming ; and from which he eventually rose to be a com
missioned officer in one of our line regiments, but whose number
I cannot now remember. The cause which led to Demon's
merits being first noticed was not a little curious, being neither
more nor less than a race.
It happened that at Shoreham Cliff, (soon after he joined,)
a race was got up among some Kentish men, who were noted for
their swiftness, and one of them who had beaten his companions,
challenged any soldier in the Rifles to run against him for two
hundred pounds. The sum was large, and the runner was of so
much celebrity, that although we had some active young fellows
amongst us, not one seemed inclined to take the chance, either
officers or men, till at length Demon stept forth and said be would
run against this Kentish boaster, or any man on the face of the
earth, and flght him afterwards into the bargain, if any one
could be found to make up the money. Upon this an officer
subscribed the money, and the race was arranged.
The affair made quite a sensation, and the inhabitants of the
different villages for miles around flocked to see the sport; be
sides which the men from difiisrent regiments in the neighbour
hood, infantry, cavalry, and artillery also were much interested,
and managed to be present, which caused the scene to be a very
gay one. In short, the race commenced, and the odds were
much against the soldier at starting, as he was a much less
man than the other, and did not at all look like the winner.
He, however, kept well up with his antagonist, and the affair
seemed likely to end in a dead heat, which would undoubtedly
have been the case, but Demon, when close upon the winning-
post, gave one tremendous spring forward, and won it by his
body's length.

THE WALCHEREN EXPEDITION. 229

This race, in short, led on to notice and promotion. General
Mackenzie was in command of the garrison at Hythe. He was
present, and was highly delighted at' the rifleman beating the
bumpkin, and saw that the winner was the very cut of a
soldier, and in short, that Demon was a very smart fellow,
so that eventually the news of tbe race reached the first battalion
then fighting in Spain. Sir Andrew Barnard as far as I can
recollect from hearsay, at the time, was in command of the Rifies
in Spain at that moment; and, as I now remember the story,
either he or some other officer of high rank, upon being told of
the circumstance, remarked that, as Demon was such a smart
runner in England, there was very good ground for a Rifieman
to use his legs on out there. He was accordingly ordered out
with the next draft to that country, where he so much distin
guished himself that he obtained his commission, as I have before
mentioned. I could give many more anecdotes connected with the recruit
ing at this time for the three battalions of rifles, but the above
will suffice ; and soon after the incident I have narrated above,
(our companies being full of young and active men,) we started
off with the expedition, then just formed for Walcheren. I could
not help feeling, when we paraded, that I stood enranked for this
first expedition, comparatively amongst strangers, since in the
company I belonged to, not a single man, except James Brooks,
whom I have before named, then paraded with me, who had
been a fellow comrade in the fields of Portugal and Spain. I
felt also the loss of my old captain, (Leech,) whom I much loved
and respected, and who left the second battalion at that time to
be promoted to the first. When I heard of this change, I
stepped from the ranks and offered to exchange into the first,
but Lieut. Hill, who was present hinted to Captain Hart (my
new commanding officer) not to let me go, as if he did, he would
perhaps repent it. I will not say here what the lieutenant then
said of me, but he persuaded Captain Hart to keep me, as my
character had been so good in the former campaign ; and accord-
20

230 THE WALCHEREN EXPEDITION.

ingly I remained in the second battalion, and started on the Wal
cheren expedition.
From Hythe to Deal was one day's march ; and I remember
looking along the road at the fine appearance the different regi
ments made as we marched along. It was as fine an expedition
as ever I looked at, and the army seemed to stretch, as I regarded
them, the whole distance before us to Dover.
At Deal, the Rifles embarked in the Superb, a 74, and a terri
ble outcry there was among the women upon the beach on the
embarkation ; for the ill consequences of having too many
women amongst us had been so apparent in our former cam
paign and retreat, that the allowance of wives was considerably
curtailed on this occasion, and the distraction of the poor crea
tures parting with their husbands was quite heart-rending : some
of them clinging to the men so resolutely, that the officers were
obliged to give orders to have them separated by force. In fact,
even after we were in the boats and fairly pushed off, the scream
ing and howling of their farewells rang in our ears far out
at sea.
The weather being fair, and the fleet having a grand and im
posing appearance, many spectators (even from London) came to
look at us as we lay in the Downs, and we set sail, (I think on
the third day from our embarkation) in three divisions.
A fair wind soon carried us off Flushing, where one part of
the expedition disembarked; the other made for South Beveland,
among whieh latter I myself was. The five companies of Rifies
immediately occupied a very pretty village, with rows of trees on
either side of its principal street, where we had plenty of
leisure to listen to the sound of the cannonading going on
amongst the companies we bad left at Flushing.
The appearance of the country (such as it was) was extremely
pleasant, and for a few days the men enjoyed themselves much.
But at the expiration of (I think) less time than a week, an
awful visitation suddenly came upon us. The first I observed
of it was one day as I sat in my billet, when I beheld whole par
ties of our riflemen in the street shaking with a sort of ague, to

THE WALCHEREN EXPEDITION. 231

such a degree that they could hardly walk ; strong and flne
young men, who had been but a short time in the service,
seemed suddenly reduced in strength to infants, unable to stand
upright — so great a shaking had seized upon their whole bodies
from head to heel. The company I belonged to was quartered in
a barn, and I quickly perceived that hardly a man there had
stomach for the bread that was served out to them, or even to
taste their grog, although each man had an allowance of half-a-
pint of gin per day. In fact, I should say, about three weeks
from the day we landed, I and two other men were the only in
dividuals who could stand upon our legs. They lay groaning in
rows in the barn, amongst the heaps of lumpy black bread they
were imable to eat.
This awful spectacle considerably alarmed the officers, who
were also many of them attacked. The naval doctors came on
shore to assist the regimental surgeons, who, indeed, had more
upon their hands than they could manage ; Dr. Ridgeway, of the
Rifles, and his assistant, having nearly five hundred patients pros
trate at the same moment. In short, except myself and three or
four others, the whole concern was completely fioored.
Under these circumstances, and which considerably con
founded the doctors, orders were issued (since all hopes of
getting the men upon their legs seemed gone) to embark them
as fast as possible, which was accordingly done with some little
difficulty. The poor fellows made every effort to get on board.
Those who were a trifle better than others crawled to the boats ;
many supported each other ; and many were carried helpless as
infants. At Flushing matters were not much better, except that there
the soldiers had a smart skirmish with their enemies before the
fever and ague attacked them. On shipboard the aspect of affairs
did not mend ; the men beginning to die so fast that they com
mitted ten or twelve to the deep in one day.
It was rather extraordinary that myself, and Brooks, and a
man named Bowley, who had all three been at Corunna, were at
this moment unattacked by the disease, aud notwithstanding the

232 THE WALCHEREN EXPEDITION.

awful appearance of tbe pest-ship we were in, I myself had
little fear of the disease. I thought myself so hardened that it
could not touch me. It happened, however, that I stood senti
nel (men being scarce) over the hatch-yay, and Brooks, who was
always a jolly and jeering companion (even in the very jaws of
death) came past me, and offered me a lump of pudding, it being
pudding day on board. At that moment I felt struck with a
deadly faintness, shook all over like an aspen, and my teeth
chattered in my head, so that I could hardly hold my rifle.
Brooks looked at me a moment, with the pudding in his hand,
which he saw I could not take. " Hallo," he said, "why
Harris, old boy, you are not going to begin, are you ?"
I felt unable to answer him, but only muttered out as I trem
bled, " For God's sake get me relieved. Brooks !"
"Damme," said Brooks, "it's all up with Harris! You're
catched hold of at last, old chap."
In feet I was soon sprawling upon the forecastle, amongst
many others, in a miserable state, our heads upon our knapsacks,
and our great coats over us. In this state the doctors, during
our short voyage, were fully employed ; pails of bark were carried
amongst us and given to the men in horn tumblers, and thus we
arrived at Dover.
As I lay on the deck, I looked up at that splendid castle in
the distance. It was identified with old England, and many a
languid eye was cheered by its sight. Men naturally love to die
upon their native land, and I felt I could now do so contentedly !
Nay, I have that frowning English fortress in my eye, at this
moment, as I then beheld it. The Warwickshire militia were at
that time quartered at Dover. They came to assist in disem
barking us, and were obliged to lift many of us out of the boats
like sacks of flour. If any of those militiamen remain alive
they will not easily forget that piece of duty; for I never beheld
men more moved than they were at our helpless state. Many
died at Dover and numbers in Deal ; whilst those who had some
what rallied on getting from the land of pestilence, were paraded
in order to get them on to then: old quarters at Hythe.

THE WALCHEREN EXPEDITION. 233

I remember that the 43d and 52d regiments (all that were able)
marched with us this day to Hythe ; but I am afraid we did not
(any of us) cut much of a figure on the road. In fact, such was
the shaking fever we felt that we were left pretty much to our
own discretion to get to our journey's end in the best manner
we could. Many, indeed, would never have got into barracks
without assistance. In short, when I sat down exhausted
by the road-side several times during the march, and looked at
the men, I thought it bore in some degree a similitude to the
Corunna retreat ; so awfully had disease floored the strength of
the whole turn-out.
The hospital at Hythe being filled with the sick, the barracks
became a hospital, and as deaths ensued, and thinned the wards,
the men were continually removed, making progress from barrack
to hospital, and from hospital to the grave. The ward of the
hospital, in which I myself was, accommodated eleven men, and
I saw, from my bed in the corner where I lay, this ward refilled
ten times, the former patients being all carried out to the grave. I
had been gradually removed as the men died, until I was shoved
np into a corner of the ward, where I lay and had plenty of lei
sure to observe my comrades in misfortune, and witness their
end. Some I beheld die quietly, and others were seized in vari
ous ways. Many got out of bed in a shivering delirium, and
died upon the fioor in the night-time.
Having been a shoemaker in the Rifles, I had saved during
my service near two hundred pounds, which I had in the bank at
Hythe at this time, so that I was enabled to procure extra wine
and other nourishing things, and often gave my companions in
misfortune a treat also ; and this I think enabled my iron con
stitution to keep death so long at bay.
I saw one or two of my old peninsular comrades, and whom I
had often seen fighting bravely in the field, die in this hospital
in a miserable condition, their bodies being swollen up like
barrels. Every thing was done for us that skill could devise, andnothing
could exceed the kindness of Doctor Ridgeway toward us. Hot
20*

234 THE WALCHEREN EXPEDITION.

baths were brought into the hospital, and many a man died
whilst in the bath, and was taken out dead.
I remember hearing, as I lay sick, that the firing over the
graves of our comrades was dispensed with, the men died so fast ;
and when I got out, and went to the churchyard to look upon
the graves of my comrades, I saw them lying in two lines there.
As they in life had been enranked, so they lay also ranked
in death.
The medical men made every effort to try and trace the im
mediate cause of this mortality amongst us, and almost all the
men were examined after death; but it was of no avail, as
nothing could arrest the progress of the malady after it had
reached a certain height. The doctor, I heard, generally attri
buted the deaths in most cases, to enlargement of the spleen,
as almost all were swollen and diseased in that part. I myself
was dreadfully enlarged in the side, and for many years after
wards carried "an extra paunch."
As soon as the prospect began to brighten, and the men to re
cover a little, we managed to muster outside the hospital, some
three hundred of us parading there morning and evening, for
the benefit of fresh air; and medicine was served out to us
as we stood enranked, the hospital orderlies passing along the
ranks, and giving each man his dose from large jugs which they
carried. As we got better an order arrived to furnish two companies
of the second battalion, and two companies of the third battalion,
of Rifles, for Spain, as they were much wanted there. Accordingly
an inspection took place, and two hundred men were picked out,
all of whom were most anxious to go. I myself was rejected at
that time, as unfit, which I much regretted. However, on
making application, after a few days, I was accepted, principally
on the recommendation of Lieut. Cochrane, who much wished
for me; and I accordingly once more started for foreign service.
From Hythe to Portsmouth, where we were to embark, was
eight days' march ; but the very first day found out some of tha
Walcheren lads. I myself was assisted that night to my billet,

THE WALCHEREN EXPEDITION. 235

the ague having again seized me, and on the third day wagons
were obliged to be hired to get us along the road. As we pro
ceeded some of those men who had relapsed died on the road,
and were buried in different places we passed through. At Chi
chester, I recollect, a man was taken out of the wagon in which
I myself lay, who had died beside me ; and at that place he was
buried. At Portsmouth I remained one night, billeted with my
fellow travellers at the Dolphin. .Here I was visited by an
uncle who resided in the town ; and who was much shocked at
seeing me so much reduced, concluding it was impossible I could
survive many days. Such was the shocking state we were again
reduced to. The next morning spring-wagons were procured
for us, and we were sent back to Hilsea barracks for the benefit
of medical advice : and I took a farewell of my uncle, expecting
never to see him again. Such, however, was not to be the case,
as, out of the thirty-nine riflemen who went into Hilsea Hospital,
I alone survived.
It may seem to my readers extraordinary that I should twice
be the survivor of so many of my comrades. I can only, there
fore, refer them to the medical men who attended us, if they yet
live, and whose names were, Dr. Ridgeway of the Rifles, and Dr.
Frazer, who at that time was the surgeon at Hilsea.
Whilst we lay sick at Hilsea Hospital I must not forget
to mention an act of great kindness and humanity which was
performed towards the soldiery. Lady Grey, who, I believe, was
the wife of the Commissioner of Portsmouth Dockyard at this
time, was so much struck with the state of the sufferers, that she
sent one morning two carts loaded with warm clothing for them ;
giving to each man, of whatsoever regiment, who had been at
Walcheren, two pairs of flannel drawers and two flannel waist
coats. This circumstance was greatly appreciated by the men ;
and many, like myself, have never forgotten it.
After this, being the only rifleman left at Hilsea, Lieut. Bar-
dell made application to the general for leave for me to go into
Dorsetshire to see my friends, which was granted ; but the doc
tor shook his head, doubting I should ever be able to under-

236 THE WALCHEREN EXPEDITION.

take the journey. In about a week, however, I considered my
self fit to undertake the journey; and, accordingly, a non
commissioned officer of one of the line regiments put me into a
Salisbury coach. A lady and gentleman were my fellow-passen
gers inside, and we started about four o'clock. They seemed not
much to relish the look of a sick soldier in such close quarters ;
and, accordingly, we had hardly cleared the town of Gosport
before I gave them a dreadful fright. In short, I was attacked
all at once with one of the periodical ague-fit's, and shook to so
desperate a degree that they were both horror-struck, and almost
inclined to keep me company. The lady thought that both her
self and husband were cold, and would certainly catch the com
plaint ; expressing herself as most unhappy in having begun
their journey on that day. These fits generally lasted an hour
and a quarter, and then came on a burning fever, during which I
called for water at every place where the coach stopped. In
fact, coachman, guard, and passengers, outside and in, by no
means liked it, and expected every minute that I should die in
the coach.
" Here's a nice go," said the coachman, as he stopped at a
place called Whit-church, " catch me ever taking up a sick sol
dier again if I can help it. This here poor devil's going to
make a die of it in my coach."
It seemed, indeed, as if I had personally offended the burly
coachman, for he made an oration at every place he stopped at,
and sent all the helpers and idlers to look at me, as I sat in his
coach, till I was obliged to beg of him not to do so.
I had two attacks of this sort during the night, and was so bad
that I myself thought, with the coachman, that I should never get
out of the vehicle alive ; and never, I should think, had passengers
so unpleasant a journey as the lady and gentleman I travelled
with. At length, early in the morning, the coach stopped at a village
one mile from my father's residence, which was on the estate of
the present Marquis of Anglesey. I had left my father's cot-

THE WALCHEREN EXPEDITION. 237

tage quite a boy, and although I knew the landlord of the
little inn where the coach stopped, and several other persons
I saw there, none knew me ; so I made myself known aa well as
I could, for I was terribly exhausted, and the landlord imme
diately got four men to carry me home.
My father was much moved at beholding me return in so mise
rable a plight, as was also my step-mother and my brother. I
remained with them eight months, siiPot which I lay in a hope
less state in bed, certificates being sent every month to Hythe,
stating my inability to move ; and during which time Captam
Hart sent four letters to the commanding officer, desiring I
might be drafted out, if possible, to Spain, as, being a handi
craft, I was much wanted there.
The medical men round the neighbourhood hearing of my
state, many of them came to see me, in order to observe the
nature of a complaint that had proved so deadly to our soldiers.
At the end of the eighth month, (being once more somewhat
recovered, and able to crawl about, with the aid of a stick, a
few yards from our cottage door,) as my mother-in-law had once
or twice expressed herself burthened by this long illness, I re
solved to attempt to return to my regiment. I was therefore
transported in a cart to the King's Arms Inn, at Dorchester, my
body being swollen up hard as a barrel, and my limbs covered
with ulcers. Here the surgeons of the 9th and llth dragoons
made an examination of me, and ordered me into Dorchester
hospital, where I remained seven weeks ; and here my case com
pletely puzzled the doctors.
At lengtji Dr. Burroughs, on making his rounds, caught sight
of me as I sat on my bed, dressed in my green uniform.
" Hallo ! rifleman," he said, " how came you here ?"
Being told, he looked very sharply at me, and seemed to
consider. " Walcheren," he inquired, " eh ?"
" Yes, sir," I said, " and it has not done with me yet."
" Strip, my man," he said, " and lay on your back. What
have you done for him ?" he asked sharply of the doctor.

238 THE WALCHEREN EXPEDITION.

The doctor told him.
" Then try him with mercury, sir," he said, " both externally
and internally."
After saying which in a rapid manner, he turned as quickly
and proceeded in his rounds among the rest of the patients.
I was now salivated most desperately, after which I got a little
better, and resolved at all hazards, to try and rejoin my regi
ment, for I was utterly tTred of the hospital life I had altogether
so long led. " For God's sake," I said, " let • me go and die
with my own regiment !"
With some little difficulty I got leave to go, and once again
started at my own expense, for Hythe, in Kent, by the coach.
Before doing so, however, to my surprise, the medical man, who
had attended me under my father's roof, brought me in his bill,
which was a pretty good one, amounting to sixty pounds. I
thought this was pretty well for a poor soldier to be charged.
Having still, however, enough left of my savings, I paid it ; but I
kept that bill, and afterwards showed it to Dr. Scott of the Rifles,
who remarked upon it in these words : " It could not have been
higher, Harris, if you had been a man possessing a thousand a
year." When I made my appearance in the barrack-square at Hythe,
I was like one risen from the dead ; for I had been so long miss
ing from amongst the few I knew there, that I was almost for
gotten. A hardy Scot, named McPherson, was one of the first
who recognized me.
"Eh," he said, "but here's Harris come back. Why I
thought, man, ye was gane amongst tbe lave o' them, but the
divil will na kill ye, I think !"
The day after .my arrival I was once more in hospital, and
here I remained under Dr. Scott for twenty-eight weeks ; such
was the Walcheren fever, and which to this day I sometimes
feel the remains of in damp weather. From Hythe I was sent
amongst some other invalids, to Chelsea. Sixty of us marched
together on this occasion, without arms. Many had lost their
limbs, which, from wounds, as well as disease, had been.ampu

THE WALCHEREN EXPEDITION. 239

tated ; and alto^ther we did not make a very formidable ap
pearance, being frequently obliged to be halted in the road to
repair our strength, when the whole turn-out would be seen
sitting or sprawling at full length by the roadside.
The march took us ten days to accomplish, and when we halted
at Pimlico, we were pretty well done up. We were billeted in
the different public houses in Chelsea. Amongst others, I lodged
at the Three Crowns, close beside the Bun House.
I remember we paraded in the Five Fields, then an open space,
but now covered with elegant mansions, and become a part of
London. Three thousand inva^ds mustered here every morning
— a motley group, presenting a good picture of the toils of war.
There was the lame, the halt, and the blind, the sick, and the
sorry, all in a lump. With those who had lost their limbs,
there was not much trouble, as they became pensioners ; but
others were, some of them, closely examined from day to day as
to their eligibility for service. Amongst others I was examined
by Dr. Lephan.
" What age are you, rifleman ?" he said.
" Thirty-two, sir," I replied.
"What trade have you been of?" he inquired.
' A shoemaker," I replied.
" Where have you been ?" he said.
" In Denniark, Spain, Portugal, and Walcheren," I said ;
" in which latter place I met the worst enemy of all."
"Never mind that," he said, "you'll do yet; and we will
have you to a veteran battalion."
Accordingly I was appointed to the 8th veteran battalion, with
others, and sent to Fort Cumberland. Here I was appointed to
Captain Creswell's company, who had lost one eye, whilst in the
36th regiment in Spain.
I was again the only green jacket of the lot, and the officers
assembled round me during the first muster, and asked me nu
merous questions about my service amongst the Rifles, for we
had a great reputation amongst the army at this time. Major
Caldwell commanded the battalion ; he had been in the fifth,

240 THE WALCHEREN EXPEDITION.

(the fighting 5th,) and had received a grie-wpus wound in tha
head. He was a kind and soldier-like man, but if you put him
out of temper, you would soon find out that he felt his wound.
Capt. Picard wSs there, too, and Captain Flaherty, and Lieut.
Moorhead ; all of them were more or less shattered, whilst their
men, although most of them were young, were very good speci
mens of war's alarms. One, perhaps, had a tale to tell of Sala
manca, where he lost an eye; another spoke of Badajoz, where
he got six balls (in the breach) at once in his body. Many
paraded with sticks in their hands, and altogether it was some
thing of a different sort of force to the active chaps I had been
in the habit of serving amongst. In fact, I much regretted my
green jacket, and grieved at being obliged to part with it for
the red coat of the Veterans.
I remained in the Veterans only four months, as at the expi
ration of that time Napoleon was sent to Elba. We were then
marched to Chelsea, to be disbanded, where we met thousands of
soldiers lining the streets, and lounging about before the differ
ent public houses, with every description of wound and casualty
incident to modern warfare. There hobbled the dilapidated light
infantry man, the heavy dragoon, the fusileer, and specimens from
every regiment in the service. The Irishman, shouting and brand
ishing his crutch ; the English soldier, reeling with drink ; and the
Scot, with grave and melancholy visage, sitting on the steps of
the public house amongst the crowd, listening to the skirl of his
comrades' pipes, and thinking of the blue hills of his native
land. Such was Chelsea and Pimlico in 1814.
In about a week's time I was discharged, and received a pen
sion of sixpence per day ; and for the first time since I had been
a shepherd lad on Blandford Downs, I saw myself in plain
clothes, and with my liberty to go and come where I liked. Be
fore, however, my pension became due, I was again called upon
to attend, together with others, in consequence of the escape
of Bonaparte from Elba; but I was then in so miserable a
plight with the remains of the fever and ague, which still at
tacked me «very other day, that I did not answer the call by

THE WALCHEREN EXPEDITION. 241

which I lost my pension. And here I may perhaps as well mention
a slight anecdote of the great duke, as I heard it related, more
especially as, slight as it is, it shows the rapidity with which,
even in small matters, that great man always came to a right
conclusion. The duke, I was told, observed in Spain that several men who
had come out from England after Walcheren were unable to
keep up on the march, and afterwards completely failed. He
inquired the reason of this, and was told they were men who
had been on the Walcheren expedition.
"Then, never," said the duke, "let another man be sent here
who has been at Walcheren."
At Fort Cumberland I remember another curious circum
stance, which may perhaps, in these times, be thought worthy
of narration.
Many of ihe French prisoners had volunteered into the En
glish service, and were formed into four companies, called the
Independent Companies. These men were smart-looking fellows,
and wore a green uniform, something like the Rifles. Whilst I
was with the Veterans one of these men deserted, and was re
taken at Portsmouth, and tried by court-martial at Fort Cum
berland. Besides his crime of desertion he had aggravated it
by gross insubordination, and he was accordingly sentenced to
be flogged. We all, French and English, paraded to see the
sentence carried into effect, and in case of any thing happening,
and our opposite neighbours, the green-jackets, showing fight,
tbe Veterans were all ordered to load with ball.
When tbe culprit heard the sentence read out to him, he was
a good deal annoyed, and begged that he might be shot, as would
have happened to him in his own Country. Such, however, it
was explained to him, could not be allowed, and he was accord
ingly punished. The Duke of York, who was then commander-
in-chief, had thought it necessary to make this example, although
all of us would have been glad to have seen him forgiven.
Shortly after this, on Napoleon's being sent to Elba, these
men were all liberated, and sent home to their own country, with
21

242

THE WALCHEREN EXPEDITION

four pounds given to each man ; and gloriously drunk they all
were at Portsmouth the night they embarked.
The Veterans were very intimate and friendly with these
Frenchmen, as they were quartered together ; and we were all
sorry to hear (whether true or false I cannot say) that every
man of them, on their uniforms betraying their having served
us, were massacred by their fellow-countrymen.

DUFAVEL'S ADVENTURE IN THE WELL.
One morning, early in September 1836, as Dufavcl, one of
the laborers employed in sinking a well at a place near Lyons,
in France, was about to descend, in order to begin his work, one
of his companions called out to him not to go down, as the ground
was giving way, and threatened to fall in. Dufavel, however,
did not profit by the warning, but, exclaiming, " I shall have
plenty of time to go down for my basket first," he entered the
well, which was sixty-two feet in depth. When about half way
down, he heard some large stones falling; but he nevertheless
continued his descent, and reached the bottom in safety. After
placing two pieces of plank in his basket, he was preparing to
reascend, when he suddenly heard a crashing sound above his
head, and, looking up, he saw five of the side supports of the
well breaking at once. Greatly alarmed, he shouted for assist
ance as loudly as he was able ; but the next moment a large mass
of the sandy soil fell upon him, precluding the possibility of his
escape. By a singular good fortune, the broken supports fell to
gether in such a manner, that they formed a species of arch
over his head, and prevented the sand from pouring down, which
must have smothered him at once. To all appearance, however,
he was separated from the rest of the world, and doomed to
perish by suffocation or famine. He had a wife and child, who
now came into bis mind, and the thought of them now made him
feel still more bitterly his imprudent obstinacy in descending
into the well, after being warned of the danger to which he was
exposing himself.
But although Dufavel regretted the past and feared for the
future, he did not give way to despair. Calm and self-possessed,
he raised his heart in prayer to God, and adopted every precau-
(243)

244 dufavel's adventure in the well.

tion in his power to prolong his life. His basket was fastened to the
cord by which he had descended; and when his comrades above
began to pull the rope, in the hope of drawing him up to the
surface, he observed that, in their vain efforts, they were causing his
basket to strike against the broken planks above bim in such a
manner, as to bring down stones and other things. He therefore
cut the rope with his knife, which he had no sooner done, than it
was drawn up by those at the top of the well ; and, when his
friends saw the rope so cut, they knew that he must be alive,
and determined to make every exertion to save him.
The hole made by tbe passage of this rope through the sand
that had fallen in, was of the greatest use to Dufavel ; through
it he received a supply of fresh air, and, after a whUe, his
friends contrived to convey food to him, and even to speak to
him. Of course he was in utter darkness ; but he was enabled
in a curious manner, to keep a reckoning of time. A large fly
was shut up with him, and kept him company all the time that
he remained there. When he heard it buzzing about, he knew
that it was day, and when the fly was silent, he knew that it
was night. The fly boarded as well as lodged with him ; he was
as careful as he could not to interrupt it while taking its share of
his meal ; when he touched it, it would fly away, buzzing as if
offended, but soon return again. He often said afterwards, that
the company of this fly had been a great consolation to him.
More skilful persons than the poor laborers of the village of
Champvert were soon engaged in the attempt to liberate Dufavel.
The municipal authorities of Lyons procured the assistance of a
band of military miners, who, under the direction of experienced
officers began to form a subterranean passage for the purpose of
relieving him. Prayers for his safety were daily offered up in
the churches of Lyons, and the most intense interest prevailed ;
it was found necessary to erect a barricade, and station a guard
of soldiers round the scene of the accident, to keep off the flock
ing crowd from the neighbourhood, all eager to obtain news, and
see what was being done.
The cavity at the bottom of tha well, over whioh the wooden

dufavel's adventure in the well. 245

rafters had so providentially formed a sort of a roof, was at first
about seven feet in height ; but owing to the sand constantly
running through, and pressing down the roof from above, by the
third day the space became so small, that the poor man could no
longer stand, or even sit upright, but was crushed upon the
ground in a peculiarly painful manner, his legs doubled under
him, and his head pressed on one side against his left shoulder.
His arms, however, were free, and he used his knife to cut
away such parts of the wood work as particularly incommoded
bim, and to widen the hole the passage of the rope had made.
Through this hole, by means of a small bottle, soup and wine
were let down to him, and after a few days, what was quite as
important, a narrow bag to receive and bring to the surface the
constantly accumulating sand, which must soon have smothered
him, if this means of removing it had not been devised, and he
had not had strength and energy for such painful labor as tbe
constantly filling and refilling the bag soon became. Of course,
a,uy pressure from above would have forced in the temporary
roof, so that nothing could be attempted in the way of removing
the mass of sand, &c., that had fallen in. They dared not to
touch the surface above ; but they contrived, by means of a
tube, to speak to him. A cousin of his, himself a well-digger,
was let down for this purpose. This man spoke to Dufavel, and
assured him the miners were making progress, and would soon
reach him ; he inquired after his wife and child, and charged his
cousin to tell her from him to be of good cheer, and not to lose
heart ; at this time he had been a week in the well.
Day succeeded day, and still the expectations of the migers
were deceived. They worked night and day, but such was the
treacherous nature of the soil, that neither pickaxe nor shovel
could be used; the foremost miner worked upon his knees, in
serting cautiously a flat piece of wood into the ground, and after
wards gathering up with his hands, and passing to those behind
him, the sand which he thus disturbed. On the twelfth day of
his imprisonment, they calculated that they were twelve inches
from him, and yet it took them two days longer before they were.
21*

246 dufavel's adventure in the well.

able to reach him. Every minute the ground was giving way ;
and it sometimes took them many hours to repair the damage
that a single moment had produced. Besides, they felt it neces
sary to proceed with the utmost caution, when they approached
Dufavel ; for there was great reason to fear, whenever an opening
was made, the mass of sand above his head would fall down and
suffocate him. At length, about two o'clock in the morning of
Friday, 16th of September, they made a small opening into the
well, just above his shoulders. The poor man shouted for joy,
and was able with his knife to assist in extricating himself. He
was carefully conveyed along the horizontal gallery, and wrapped
in blankets before he was drawn up into the open air. Several
medical men were in attendance, and one of them had him con
veyed to his house, and put into bed.
We will not attempt to describe.Dufavel's happy meeting with
his wife, nor the tears of joy which he shed over his infant boy,
who did not at flrst recognize him, muffled up as he was obliged
to be to protect him from the cold, and his chin covered by a
beard of more than a fortnight's growth. In the evening, he was
so well, that Doctor Bienvenu consented to his being conveyed to
his own home ; and he was accordingly transported thither on a
litter, attended by a great concourse of happy and thankful
spectators.

THE WOLVES OF RUSSIA.
In traversing the vast plains of Northern Russia, the traveller
encounters much danger and difficulty. The severity of the
climate i.s extreme, and to those who have not been bred in
Northern countries almost intolerable. Wild beasts are numerous.
The most formidable are bears and wolves. The latter go in
large flocks, and when suffering for want of food are daring and
persevering in their attacks, upon man as well as upon beasts.
The Russian.s are aware of this danger, and generally carry arms
in the sleighs in which they travel. Besides, the sides of the
sleigh are armed with long aud sharp iron spikes, which keep
the wolves at bay. In spite of all precautions, however, dread
ful disasters have happened to travellers in the dreary wilds, far
from the abode of man. Such is the appearance of the wolf
when supported by a flock of its fellows, that master and horse
have been forced to yield, and have been devoured. Those who
are obliged to travel and are yet unable to provide themselves
against attack, escape but seldom. The story of the woman who
sacrificed several of her children to save herself is well known to
all readers. To such perils many have been exposed.
It was the middle of January, 18 — . Tbe cold was intense,
and the snow several feet in depth, was frozen hard. Along the
road which led across the plains, or steppes in the northern part
of Russia, a sleigh, drawn by two horses, and containing four
men, proceeded at a rapid pace. The sleigh was of substantial,
rather than elegant construction, and was armed upon the
(247)

248 THE WOLVES OF RUSSIA.

sides in the usual manner. The travellers were closely wrapped
in fur, but it was evident that they belonged to the more re
spectable class of peasantry from the peculiar manner in which
their hats were decorated. The same might have been surmised
from the character of the vehicle in which they were pursuing
their journey. One of them was an old man, with a long grey
beard, and withered features. The other three were young, and
had a hearty vigourous look. As the horses galloped over the
frozen snow, occasionally touched with the whip of the driver,
the travellers conversed upon various subjects. It was growing
towards night, a large and gloomy forest was near, and our
travellers had many miles to go before reaching an inn. Under
these circumstances there was reason for alarm
" Whip, whip, Ivan !" said the old man to the driver.
" We've much snow to cross before we find a bed."
"It isn't everybody who would like to be here at this time of
the day," said one of the young men, sitting in the back part of
ihe sleigh.
" Phsaw ! there's no danger on- this road if you know how to
conduct yourselves," said Ivan, the driver. " To be sure, there
are pineh-bellied wolves and ugly bears about, and it's true that
old Jovanoff came this way and was no more heard of; but four
men ought to be able to keep back all the wolves in creation."
" Keep the horses to their present work, nevertheless," said
the old man. " If we all had guns and plenty of ammunition,
it would be very well to say as you do, but one gun, a pitch-fork,
and a couple of canes are poor arms for any such fight, a fool
might know."
" I wonder if old Jovanoff went down the throats of the
wolves," said one of the young men.
"Where else could he go?" enquired another.
' Yes, we may set it down, the wolves ate the old man," said
Ivan. " What a foolish thing it was for a person of his age to
dare to come this way, with no companion but his gun."
" He was intoxicated when he started," said the old man.

THE WOLVES OF RUSRIA. 249

*' That comes of our good lord being too generous in distribu
ting liquor among his workmen," said Ivan.
" Not so ; why must a man get intoxicated because he has
plenty of liquor ? It was the fault of old Jovanoff himself,"
said the old man.
" There, those eternal wolves have commenced their choruses,
and twilight will soon give place to night. Stir the horses,
Ivan," said one of the young men.
" I have them at full speed, now," replied the driver.
The road now ran through the forest, and the dismal howling
of the wolves echoed around. It seemed as if they were spread
ing their war-cry and rallying their forces. Occasionally one or
two would come out into the road far ahead, stand and look
eagerly at the swiftly advancing horses, and then scamper into
the ghostly-looking forest. The travellers grasped such arms as
they possessed, and seemed prepared for desperate resistance to
any attack. As they proceeded further into the forest, the dark
ness increased, and the dreadful chorus of the wolves became
louder. Several large parties of the hungry animals were seen
to follow the sleigh for a short distance, and then halt, as if con
scious of the danger of the attempt against four men. But as
their- forces grew more numerous, their confidence increased,
and they swarmed to the vicinity of the sleigh. The horses
were put to their utmost speed. But tliey bad exerted them
selves for many hours, aud began to break. The wolves had
very little difficulty in keeping up with them. The whip was
applied with fearful force, as- the driver was occasionally stimu
lated by his companions. One or two shots from the gun of the
old man, which slew one of the fierce pursuers, had the effect of
daunting them for a time. But their hunger maddened them,
and they could not give up the prospect of such a feast. Two
horses and four men ! How they smacked their terrible jaws,
and howled, and flew over the snow ! The travellers were alert,
but calm and firm. The Russians are noted for their iron resolu
tion, and the men of our party possessed their full share of the
national peculiarity.

250 THE WOLVES OF RUSSIA..

" Down with that miscreant, Buloff !" said the old man to one
»f the young men, as a wolf leaped on the back of th.e sleigh.
3uloff caught the wolf by the back of the neck, lifted him with
•ease and dashed him to the earth. About the same time, the old
man shot among the howling pack, and Ivan struck a wolf dead,
that iad leaped at the neck of one of the horses. The sleigh at
length emerged from the forest. Yet the battle continued.
Some of the wolves, attempting to spring into the sleigh, were
mortally wounded by the spikes upon its sides. While Ivan,
with a pitchfork in one hand, and the whip in the other, struck
the furious beasts, and stimulated the harassed horses ; the other
three men fought with resolution and success on all sides. , Each
one seemed to feel that it was a struggle for life, and nerved
himself for the utmost exertion. Yet the odds were fearful,
and aid was distant. The horses were severely bitten and torn,
and, it was cloar, could, not stand stuch tremendous work much
longer. Suddenly, while striking a furions blow at a wolf with
his fork, Ivan was precipitated from the sleigh, which drove
swiftly on. The young, man shrieked for aid, as he strove man
fully among the .thronging wolves. But the maddened horses
could not be stopped, and his companions beheld him thrown
down and torn to pieces, without having it in their power to lend
him a helpin;^ iiaud. On .they went, pursued by a host of perse^-
vering foes. Another young man had taken Ivan's place, and
he endeavored to protect the horses. Eut his weapon, a thick
stick, was scarcely sufficient. Tbe whole party were nearly ex
hausted, when a faint glimmer, was seen in the distance.
" Praised be I3od !" exclaimed the old man " there is the inn at
last. Courage ; and strive manfillly my frionus, aud we ma.y
yet bo saved.. Now, shout, and aid may enma." The three then
shouted !it the 'top of .their voices, and struck more vigorously
on every sico. An a;is\-,-."ring shout wjis soon hoard in th'e
direction of the light, and the wolves began to drop off from the
long pursuit. The lights come nearer, and the shouts are louder.
Then ! one of the horses falls and drags the other down. The
wolves are upon them, and the men can but protect th«iinselves.

WOLVES ATTACKING THE TRAVELLERS.

THE WOLVES OF RUSSIA.

253

But the light and its bearers are at hand. A volley sends tho
wolves flying in every direction ; many are killed, and the ex
hausted travellers are saved.
One of the horses was too much mutilated to be of any ser
vice, and the poor beast was shot and left upon the ground.
The other was taken with the sleigh and the three travellers to
the inn, a short distance ahead. Copious draughts of spirits
were given to the exhausted men, and they soon recovered suffi
cient strength to recount the horrors of their journey. Their
escape had been almost miraculous. The bones of poor Ivan
were found by another party near the spot where he perished,
and a decent burial was given to them. The events of the
journey, "enlarged and improved," served the innkeeper for a
story, with which he startled his guests for several years^ after
wards; so that a wholesome dread of wolves was instilled into
travellers by that road.

THE RETREAT FROM MOSCOW.

The burning of Moscow by the resolute Russians left Napo
leon without winter-quarters for his mighty army. After many
attempts at negotiation, he resolved to give the fatal order to
retreat — the first step down the hill of fortune. Of the horrors
of that retreat, . no words can give an adequate idea. All that
the most of mankind have felt or imagined of misery is but a
lake to a sea in comparison with that progress of blood and
death." An eye-witness of some of its scenes speaks thus : —
Now began to open upon us the ghastly spectacle of war, the
most murderous because the most vindictive, and also war combined
with agencies of nature, that ever can have been exhibited. This
I say thoughtfully ; for in hot climates, through whieh lay the
whole of the great military campaigns or retreats in ancient his
tory — such as those of Cambyses, Crassus, Julian — there never
could have been that direct and silent agency of nature put forth
which occurs under higher latitudes. A snow storm, it is true,
has sometimes interrupted a march near Jerusalem, but not for
any continuance, and not except in winter, when the ancients
rarely undertook warlike expeditions. Here only, from the vast
extent of the fighting and the retreat, nature had time allowed
her to develope her resources — full seven weeks of time after the
snow commenced in good earnest over full seven hundred miles
English of ground ; for an army encumbered as the French was,
cannot, in the most favourable circumstances, clear more than
(254)

THE RETREAT FROM MOSCOW.

THE RETREAT FROM MOSCOW. 257

fourteen and a half English miles a day. I affirm therefore,
peremptorily, that such a case, when the sword was aided through
seven long weeks by the fiercest artillery from the heavens, and
also from the rage of famine — never was exhibited before, nor
probably will be again for a millenium, unless it should be in
American wars. So true is the summing up in a modern
English poet — that God, in the anger of retribution, speaking
by his " still small voice,"
 " said to Famine, Frost and Snow,
Finish the strife Iby deadliest victory."
It is false and basely unjust to the Russians, if we submit to the
representations of some historians, that the sword had no share
in this tremendous catastrophe ! on the contrary, it was the
sword that reaped the earliest harvest ; and to the mute agency
of heaven was assigned only the final task —
" Finish the strife by deadliest victory.''
From Pleskow we passed to Druja, thence over the frozen river
Duena ; and from that point we directed our course by way of
Widzky andSvenziany upon Wilna. The reader must remember
that, all along this route, there had been desperate fighting, as
well as upon the Smolensko roads towards Wilna, and the ravages
of frost upon the bands of prisoners had been almost equally for
midable all the way up to Pleskow, as it had upon the Moscow
road; for, after the road on this quarter was cleared of combatants,
the prisoners were transferred by wholesale to Pleskow, within
twenty-four hours' distance by sledge travelling from St. Peters
burg. Means of transport there could not be disposable for the
French wounded, seeing that too often even the Russian wounded
bad no proper accommodation ; food, medicines, lint, dressing,
all fell short to the most pitiable extent, upon a summons so
sudden. Poor, sandy, uncultivated, was the land, and miserably
barren of people, all the way from Pleskow until we reached the
neighbourhood of Wilna. Through the whole extent of this
wide region, the eye beheld but few signs of life; every where
roofless houses, with not so much as a cat mewing amongst the
ruins; shapeless wrecks where there had been villages or
22«

258 THE RETREAT FROM MOSCOW.

churches; heaps of forlorn chimneys, stone window-frames or
muUions, rafters scorched and blackened; oftentimes piles of
nondescript rubbish, from which rose up through melting snow,
smouldering flames, vapours and a hideous odour, that too often
bespoke the secret crimes lurking below — bodies rotting and
slowly burning, probably those of unoffending peasants. We
had full time for meditation, and for gathering at the post
houses the anecdotes of this dreadful war, in which so often the
murderer was confounded in one common ruin with his victim,
or so often a speedy retribution overtook him ; for the poor Lith
uanian horses, which had been saved from the enemy by driving
them inland to remote stations, were so enfeebled by the want of
food, that they could scarcely creep along the road; all forage
whatsoever had long disappeared, (as being too heavy to remove,
and in such earnest demand for the cavalry on both sides.) I
cannot better express the exhaustion of the horses than by men
tioning, that the minister's travelling-carriage, placed upon a
sledge, and not heavily laden, (since all his baggage, except di
plomatic credentials, &c., came after him amongst the Emperor's,)
never moved between the Duena and Widzky at more than
three and a half miles an hour ; and that we were obliged to
halt at every little pincushion of a rising ground, notwithstand
ing we always had six horses in the traces ; very frequently eight.
Life seemed on the brink of general extinction in this region,
equally amongst men and amongst brute animals.
On the second, third, and fourth days of our journey, already
we began to meet the long flies of prisoners. What a spectacle !
Literally a succession of lazar-houses and hospitals turned out into
the open air. Meagre wretches, crawling along with difficulty,
not always in a human posture, but on their knees, blood-soaked
rags banging about them, their faces blue, or even livid purple, and
endeavouring to draw warmth as well as nutriment from pieces
of loathsome raw horse-flesh. Many died before our eyes, as we
slowly moved along, and in crowds at the posting-stations. That
part of the sick, for whom sledges had at last been found, were
packed in layers, one over tbe other, with straw between them.

THE RETREAT FROM MOSCOW. 259

Which would die first, it had been impossible to judge in these
hurried packings of human creatures. Which had died first, it
became difficult to know ; the straw perhaps, or the man above
him, preventing any clear examination of the face; and the
dreadful effect from decomposition being now slow to express
themselves decisively under this iron rigour of frost. And thus
at the posting-houses, where piles of these victims were accumu
lated for want of horses, the groans of suffering, shrieks of an
guish from festering wounds, the parting spasm or farewell sigh
of the departing, might all be heard (sometimes all at one mo
ment) from the same sledge; whilst from others, the silence,
total or comparative, would announce that the last struggle is
past. As often as this event was discovered — an event desirable
to all eyes, when so many were waiting for any protection from
tbe icy wind or the exposure of the road — the corpse or corpses
would be hastily removed; in doing which, as the death or
deaths might have occurred indifferently in any layer, upper or
lower, a disturbance more agonizing than their wounds was
often given to such as might remain alive. But what was done
with the corpses extracted from these freights of misery ? Were
they buried ? Not at all. That would have been a work of toil
in the frozen state of the ground. But, at least, they might
have been decently withdrawn from exposure by a few inches of
snow. This, however, so slight a tribute of respect to our com
mon humanity was not attempted. In many places there was a
reasonable plea for the neglect ; viz. that the famished wolves
Would soon detect the corpse. But I am afraid that a strength
wan given to this argument, which otherwise it would not have
had, in circumstances, where the enemy had been less hated, or
his tyranny less insulting. I do not complain that such feelings
should exist. They are too natural and wholesome in their
action to be wrong ; but I feel that there is a sanctity in death,
and an atonement to human justice in the payment of this final
penalty, which should cause our enmity to cease at that point.
But here, so far from any such revolution of feeling having
tak-^-n place, on the contrary, through the whole route to Wilna,

THE RETREAT FROM MOSCOW. 260

dead men had been hung up on the branches of trees, with
marks of ignominy on their persons — brands impressed on theii
ghastly foreheads — stakes driven through their hearts.
Sometimes where the snow lay too heavily on these boughs, or
the furious north-easter with the weight of the dead man had
weakened them too much, the whole mass, broken boughs and
corpse, would all come down together, and lie across the narrow
road. Oftentimes in the middle of the night, when all was dark
in the wild " tormented" air, and only the ground was illumina
ted by the snow, suddenly our eight horses would all fall back
upon their haunches, snort, rear, plunge ; and when we alighted
with our torches to examine the cause of this tumult, we gene
rally found a litter of wood disbranched from some tree that
overshadowed the road, but in the centre a human body, and
perhaps a face half-withered by frost, half-eaten by a wolf, yet
still, amongst mouldering and ruins, not improbably presenting
a faded expression of horrid human passions. After we had passed
Widzky, these interruptions grew more frequent ; . and much
more troublesome, from the greatly increasing speed of the
horses, who could with difficulty be persuaded by the postilions
to clear the corpses by flying leaps. The difficulty of these sus
pensions had naturally made them far less frequent, until we
came into the more populous regions leading towards Wilna.
But this memento, of the roads and their condition, I can leave
for all future estimators of this unparalleled war — that from the
river Duena to Wilna, however many were the cross roads, or
however expansive might be the heath or the forest through
whioh the traveller was left to choose a track, no stranger could
ever have needed a guide, but might, through these hundreds of
miles, have guided himself by the unburied corpses.

LIFE IN SIBERIA.
On the 23d of March, 1820, Lieutenant Von Wrangel left St.
Petersburgh, with the design of exploring the north-eastern
coast of Siberia. This bold and intelligent officer traversed that
bleak and wild country which forms a large and interesting portion
of the Russian empire, and made close observation of life through
its whole extent. From his report, we quote the following : —
In the valley of Mioro we are introduced to a Yakoot who
passes for a Croesus in that part of the world. His lands and
herds are valued at upwards of half^ a million of rubles, yet he
retains almost all the habits of his r£ce. One of the distin
guishing characteristics of this pastoral nation, as of the Hin
doos, appears to be an extravagant fondness for litigation, to
gratify which they will often undertake fatiguing and costly
journeys, when the matter in dispute does not perhaps exceed
half a ruble. M. Von Wrangel hints that the Russian func
tionaries are not slow in encouraging a propensity from which
they derive a material part of their income.
An American groom would find some difficulty in picturing to
himself the habits of the Yakoot horses : —
" They will often," says M. Von Wrangel, " make the most
fatiguing journeys of more than three months duration, and
though during the whole of this time they receive no nourish
ment but the shrunk and half decayed grass, which they are
obliged to scrape with their hoofs from under the snow and
ice, nevertheless they continue strong and in good condition, and
manifest the most astonishing powers of endurance. It is re
markable, also that the Yakoot horses preserve their teeth un
injured to a very advanced age, whereas those of European
horses are worn away as they grow old. This may possibly be
(261)

262 LIFE IN SIBERIA.

ocoasionc(l by the hard corn on whioh ours are fed, while those
of Siberia never receive oats, nor indeed any thing but the soft
grass. The Siberian horses also continue young much longer
than ours do ; one of them will do good service to his master
for thirty years."
We cannot refuse ourselves the pleasure of pausing for a mo
ment to make our readers acquainted with Father Michael, the
Russian priest of Susohiversk, a small town on the banks of the
Indigirka ; so small indeed, that it consists only of a church and
four or tive huts, the whole population being composed of the
priest, his brother, a Yakoot postmaster, and two Russian fami
lies. Consigned as Father Michael was to what must have ap
peared so insignificant a station, he has found means, by the
zealous di,scharge of his pastoral duties, to make his name known
and respected throughout a large portion of his sovereign's do
minions. Father Michael, when M. Von Wrangel visited him
in 1820, was eighty-seven years of age, sixty of which had been
passed in his humble living. During this period he had not
merely baptized, but had really initiated into the first principles
of the Christian religion, more than 15,000 Yakoots, Tungu-
sians, and Yukahoers ; and by his preaching and friendly coun
sel, and more perhaps by his example, he had found means to
operate an evident improvement in their moral and social condi
tion. Age had in no way cooled the zeal of this Siberian
apostle, \7ho, regardless alike of peril and of the rigours of the
climate, was still in the habit of travelling 2000 versts,
(equal to about two-thirds of an English mile) every year to
baptize the new-born children of his widely scattered flock, to
whom ho not only afforded spiritual consolation and temporal
advice, but was ready, on an emergency, to assume the office of
physician, a character to which he may have been indebted for
no small part of his influence over his rude parishioners. Father
Tilicliael, however, wr.s not wholly absorbed by his clerical duties.
Old as he was, he still went up a fur-hunting to the neighbour
ing mountains, and relied upon his rifle for no small addition to
his little income ; and he had succeeded in planting a little

RUSSIANS DRIVEN INTO EXILE.

LIFE IN SIBERIA. 265

kitchen garden, in which he reared potatoes, turnips, cabbages, and
other European vegetables, exotics usually known only by name
in these remote northern regions. Among other dainties, the old
man placed before his guest a cake made of fish flour, an article
of his own invention. The fish, having been completely dried,
is rubbed into fine powder, and, if kept from the damp, may be
preserved for a long time. M. Von Wrangel assures us, that,
with the addition of a little wheaten flour, very savoury pastry
may be made of it.
The cold became more severe as our author advanced further
towards the north, and before reaching Sredne-Kolymsk, though
yet in the middle of October, the thermometer had already
marked 29° below Zero. He thought it high time, therefore,
to make his winter toilette, the particulars of which may be in
teresting to those of our readers who are desirous of studying
foreign fashions.
" Over my customary travelling uniform I had first to pull a
camisole with sleeves and breast-piece, both lined with the fur of
the silver fox. Over my feet I drew double socks of soft young
reindeer skin ; and, over these, high boots or turbassy of similar
material. When riding, I put on, in addition, my nakolenniki
or knee-pieces. Lastly came the Kukhlanka, or over-all, a sort
of wide sack with sleeves, made of double reindeer skin, with
fur inside and out, and a hood of fur hanging down the back.
There were also a number of small pieces to protect the face ;
the nanossknik for the nose, naborodnik for the chin, the'naus-
niki for the ears, the nahbnik for the forehead, &c. ; and to com
plete my costume came an immense fox-skin cap with long ears.
I was so embarrassed by this cumbersome, and to me unaccus
tomed dress, that it was only with the assistance of my attendant
I was able to mount my horse. Fortunately, the skin of the
reindeer is exceedingly light, considering its warmth and close
ness ; otherwise it would be impossible to bear the weight of so
many pieces of fur."
Nishney-Kolymsk is a wretched fishing village, consisting of a
church and forty-two houses or huts, into which the inmates
23

266 LIFE IN SIBERIA.

creep for shelter during their nine months' winter, but which are
left to take care of themselves during what are called the summer
months, when the whole population wander away to catch fish
and reindeer, of which the meat, when frozen, is laid by as a stock
for the winter. Completely exposed to the piercing winds that
come sweeping from the north pole, the climate of the place is
even more severe than its latitude would imply. On the 3d of
November, when M. Von Wrangel arrived, the thermometer
stood at 32° (36° below zero of Fahrenheit;) and though in
summer the temperature sometimes rises to 18° (7° of Fahren
heit,) yet the average for the year is not above 8° below the
freezing point of Reaumur. During the first week in September
the Kolyma is usually frozen over, and in January the cold
reaches 43° (59° below Fahrenheit's zero,) when the very act
of breathing becomes painful, and the snow itself throws off a
vapour ! This intense cold is usually accompanied by a thick
mist, a clear day being of rare occurrence through the whole
winter. For eight and thirty days the sun never rises, and for
fifty-two it never sets. The summer itself brings little enjoy
ment with it, for in the early part of July the gnats or mosqui
toes appear in such countless swarms, that they fairly darken
the atmosphere, when large fires are lighted of dried moss and
leaves, under the smoke of which not only the inhabitants but
even the cattle seek shelter from the persecution of their dimi
nutive tormentors. These insects, however, perform one most
important office for the good people of Nishney Kolymsk, by
driving the wild reindeer fi-om the forest to the open heath or
tundro. The herds wander by thousands during the gnat season
towards the sea-coast, when more particularly while crossing the
rivers, large numbers of them are easily killed by the hunters.
Vegetation is almost extinct in this northern region. A few
berries are in favourable seasons collected by the women ; but
with this exception no plant grows that can be used for food
The soil never thaws ; and of the few stunted trees that still
linger about the lower Kolyma, the roots seldom strike into the
ground, but lie for the most part stretched along the surface, as

LIFE IN SIBERIA. 267

though they shrunk from the thick strata of ice below. A few
wild fiowers adorn the heaths in summer ; the rose and the for
get-me-not then invite the sentimental lover to expatiate on
their beauty, if love and sentiment can indeed exist where all
Nature is covered with an almost perpetual shroud — a north
wind, even in summer, scarcely ever failing to bring with it a
snow-storm. The dwellings of the Russians along the Lower Kolyma
vary but little from those of the Yakoots and other Siberian
aborigines. The trees in this part of the country being too
stunted to afford any materials for building, the inhabitants de
pend for their supply of timber wholly upon the drift wood
brought down the river by the annual inundations which seldom
fail to accompany the breaking up of the ice. As soon as a
sufficient number of trees has been collected, a kind of log hut
is constructed, the interstices of which are filled up with moss
and clay, and for the sake of warmth a moUnd of earth is raised
aU round to a level with the window. These huts measure
usually from two to three fathoms square, and one and a half
fathom in height. In one corner stands the tshuval or fire-
hearth, the smoke of which escapes by a small hole to the roof :
but, in a few houses, luxury has extended already to the adop
tion of regular Russian stoves with chimneys. Low and incom
plete partitions divide the sleeping-places of the several members
of the family, and the rest of the dwelling is made to serve all
the multifarious offices of kitchen, workshop, sitting and recep
tion room, broad benches being placed around, on which reindeer
skins are spread as a ready couch for an occasional guest. Such
a hut is usually provided with two small windows of ten or twelve
inches square, through which, if glazed, a scanty light would
find its way, but, as a substitute for glass, fish-bladders are used
in summer, and in winter plates of ice, seldom less than six
inches in thickness, through which only a very feeble portion of
daylight is able to pierce. A small store-house usually stands
by the side of the dwelling, and the roofs of both are fitted up
with a scaffolding for the drying of fish.

268 LIFE IN SIBERIA.

Little value appears to be set on cleanliness of any kind.
Public baths are maintained by the order of government, though
rarely visited by the inhabitants. Linen or calico is worn only by
the more wealthy, and among them the use of it is chiefiy confined
to the women. A shirt of soft reindeer skin with the fur in
side, is generally worn next the skin. The outer side of this
garment is dyed with a red colour obtained from a decoction of
alder bark, and round tbe edges and the sleeves it is ornamented
with narrow stripes of beaver and other skin, which are obtained
at high prices from the Tshuktshi. The trousers, likewise of
reindeer skin, descend half-way down the leg, and over the whole
comes the kamleya of thick tanned reindeer skin, without the
fur. The kamleya soon receives a dark yellow tint, from the
smoky atmosphere by which the wearer is almost surrounded.
The above constitutes the home costume ; but when th#Kolym-
skite dandy ventures abroad he takes care to array himself in
various other descriptions of fur.
The best friend of man in almost every clime is the dog, but
in northern Siberia existence would scarcely be possible without
the aid of this invaluable animal. All along the Arctic Ocean
the dog is almost the only beast of burden. He is harnessed to
the light sledge, or narte, which will carry no inconsiderable
load, and in which during winter, the natives perform jour-
nies of incredible length. The Siberian dog bears 'a strong
resemblance to the wolf. He has a long pointed snout, sharp
upright ears, and a long bushy tail. Some of them have short
hair, others a tolerably thick fur, and they are met with of all
imaginable colours. Their size also differs very much, but a dog
is not thought fit for the sledge if less than one arshin and two
wershok high, and one arshin and five wershok long. Their
barking resembles the howling of a wolf. They always remain
in the open air. In summer they dig holes in the frozen earth
to cool themselves, and sometimes they will spend the whole day
in the water to escape from the persecution of the gnats.
Against the intense cold of winter they seek shelter by burying
themselves under the show, where they lie rolled up with the

LIFE IN SIBERIA. 271

snout covered by the bushy tail. Of the cubs, the males only
are usually kept, the females are mostly drowned, only one or
two being entertained by each father of a family to preserve the
breed. The rearing of these dogs forms an important occupa
tion, and requires no little skill and judgment. A dog may be
put to the sledge when a year old, but cannot be subjected to
hard work before his third winter. The team of a sledge seldom
consists of less than twelve of these dogs, of whom one is used
as a leader, upon whose breeding and docility the safety of the
whole party depends. No dog must be used as a leader unless
he be perfectly .obedient to the voice of his master, nor unless
the latter be certain that the animal will not be diverted one
moment from his course by the scent of any kind of game.
This last point is one of the highest importance, and if the dog
has not been well broken in, but turns to the right or left, the
rest of the dogs will immediately join in the pursuit, when the
sledge is of course overturned, and the whole pack continue the
chase until some natural obstacle intervene to arrest their course.
A well-taught leader, on the other hand, not only will not allow
himself to be seduced from his duty, but will often display the
most astonishing tact in preventing the rest of the team from
yielding to their natural instinct. On the boundless tundra
during a dark night, while the surrounding atmosphere is ob
scured by the falling snow, it is to the intelligence of his leading
dog that the traveller is constantly indebted for his preservation.
If the animal has once been the same road before, he never fails
to discover the customary halting-place, though the hut may
have been completely buried under tbe drifting snow. Suddenly
tbe dog will remain motionless upon the trackless and unbroken
surface, and by tbe friendly wagging of his tail announce to his
master that he need only fall to work with his snow-shovel to
find the door of the hut that offers him a warm lodging for the
night. The snow-shovel on these winter excursions appears to be
an appendage without which no traveller ventures upon a
journey. In summer the dog is no less serviceable than in winter. Aa

272 LIFE IN SIBERIA.

in the one season he is yoked to the sledge, so in the other he is
employed to draw the canoe up against the stream, and here they
display their sagacity in an equally surprising manner. At a
word, they halt, or where an opposing rock bars their progress on
the one side, they will plunge into the water, swim across the
river, and resume their course along the opposite bank. In
short, the dog is as indispensable to the Siberian settler, as
the tame reindeer to the Laplander. The mutual attachment
between the Siberian and his dog is in proportion to their mutual
dependance on each other. M. Von Wrangel relates remarkable
instances of the extent to which he has seen some of the people
carry their fondness for dogs. In 1821 an epidemic disease
broke out among the dogs in Siberia, and carried off many thou
sands of them.
" A Yukaheer family had lost the whole of the twenty dogs
of which they had recently been possessed, and two newly-born
cubs were all that remained. As these animals were still blind,
and without a mother's care, it scarcely appeared possible to pre
serve them. The Yukaheer's wife, to save the last remnant of
the wealth of her house, resolved that the two dogs should share
the milk of her breast with her own child. She was rewarded.
The two adopted sucklings throve wonderfully, and became the
ancestors of a new and vigorous race of dogs."
The sufferings of the poor inhabitants, in consequence of the
loss of the dogs, through the epidemic malady that raged in
1821 and 1822, were dreadful iu the extreme. Yet will it be
believed, that an order was once actually issued by the govern
ment at St. Petersburg, to destroy all the dogs throughout the
north of Siberia, "on account of their consuming such quantities
of provisions, and thereby occasioning such frequent famines."
The order was not .executed, because it would have required the
whole Russian army to enforce the command, and after a while
means were found to enlighten the rulers upon the absurd ty
ranny of their proposed "reform." Yet many underwent the
punishment of the knout for non-compliance.

^^^^M 'sl^4il?" '.'¦iifjx---'"''-'^' ';'¦ ¦ "'-''^1

THB AVALANCHE.
A SMAiiL cluster of houses, at a place called Bergemoletto,
near Demonte, in the upper valley of Stura, in Switzerland, was
on the 19th of March, 1755, entirely overwhelmed by two vast
bodies of snow, that tumbled down from a neighbouring moun
tain. All the inhabitants were then within doors except one
Joseph Rochia, and his son, a lad of fifteen, who were on the roof
of their house clearing away the snow, which had fallen for
three days incessantly. A priest going by to mass, advised
them to come down, having just before observed a body of snow
tumbling from the mountain towards them. The man descended
with great preciptation, and fled with his son, he knew not
whither ; but scarce had he gone thirty or forty steps, before
his son, who followed him, fell down ; on which looking back,
he saw his own and his neighbours' houses, in which were
twenty-two persons in all, covered with a high mountain of
snow. He lifted up his son, and reflecting that his wife,
his sister, two children, and all his effects were thus buried, he
fainted away ; but, soon reviving, got safe into a friend's house
at some distance.
Five days after, Joseph being perfectly recovered, got upon
the snow with his son, and two of his wife's brothers, to try if
he could find the exact place where his house stood ; but after
many openings made in the snow, they could not discover it.
The month of April proving hot, and the snow beginning to
soften, he again used his utmost endeavours to recover his effects,
and to bury, as he thought, the remains of his family. He made
new openings, and threw in earth, to melt the snow, which on the
?4th of April was greatly diminished. He broke through ice
(275)

276 THE AVALANCHE.

six English feet thick, with iron bars, thrust down a long pole,
and touched the ground, but evening coming on, he desisted.
His -wife's mother, who lived at Demonte, dreamed that night
that his sister was still alive, and begged him to help her ; the
man, affected by his dream, rose early in the morning and went
to Bergemolette, where Joseph was ; and after resting himself a
little, went with him to work upon the snow, where they made
another opening, which led them to the house they searched for;
but finding no dead bodies in its- ruins, they sought for the
stable, which was about two hundred and forty English feet dis
tant, which, having found, they heard a cry of " Help, my dear
brother." Being greatly surprised, as well as encouraged by
these words, they laboured with all diligence till they had made
a large opening, through which the brother who had the dream
immediately went down, where the sister with agonizing and
feeble voice told him, " I have always trusted to God and you,
that you would not forsake me." The other brother and the
husband then went down, and found still alive the wife about
forty-five, the sister about thirty-five, and a daughter about
thirteen years old. These they raised on their shoulders to men
above, who pulled them up as if from the grave, and carried
them to a neighbouring house : they were unable to walk, and
so wasted that they appeared like mere skeletons. They were
immediately put to bed, and gruel of rye flour and a little butter
was given to recover them. Some days after, the intendant came
to see them, and found the wife still unable to rise from bed or
use her feet, from the intense cold she had endured, and the
uneasy posture she had been in. The sister, whose legs had
been bathed with hot wine, could walk with difficulty, and the
daughter needed no further remedies.
On the intendant's interrogating the women, they told him,
that on the morning of tho 19th of March, they were in the
stable -with a boy of six years old, and a girl about thirteen ; in
the same stable were six goats, one of which having brought
forth two dead kids the night before, they went to carry her a
small vessel of rye-flour gruel ; there was also an ass and five

,THE AVALANCHE. 277

or six fowls. They were sheltering themselves in a warm corner
of the stable till the church-bell should ring, intending to attend
the service. The wife related, that wanting to go out to the stable
to kindle a fire in the house for her husband, who was clearing
away the snow from the top of it, she perceived a mass of snow
breaking down towards the east, upon which she went back into
the stable, shut the door, and told her sister of it. In less than
three minutes they heard the roof break over their heads, and
also part of the ceiling. The^sister advised to get into the rack
and manger, which they did. The ass was tied to the manger,
but got loose by kicking and struggling, and threw down the
little vessel, which they found, and afterwards used to hold the
melted snow, which served them for drink.
Very fortunately the manger was under the main prop of the
stable, and so resisted the weight of the snow. Their first care
was to know what they had to eat. The sister said she had fif
teen chestnuts in her pocket ; the children said they had break
fasted, and should want no more that day. They remembered
that there were thirty-six or forty cakes in a place near the
stable, and endeavoured to get at them, but were not able for
the snow. They called often for help, but were heard by none.
The sister gave two chestnuts to the wife, and ate two herself,
and they drank some snow water. The ass was restless, and the
goats kept bleating for some days ; after which they heard no
more of them. Two of the goats, however, being left alive, and
near the manger, they felt them, and found that one of them
was big, and would kid, as they recollected, about the middle of
AprU; the other gave milk, wherewith they preserved their
lives. During all this time they saw not one ray of light, yet
for about twenty days they had some notice of night and day
from the crowing of the fowls, till they died.
The second day, being very hungry, they ate all the chestnuts,
and drank what milk the goat yielded, being very near two
pounds a-day at first, but it soon, decreased. The third day they
attempted again, but in vain, to get at the cakes ; so resolved to
take all possible care to feed the goats ; but just above the man
24

278 THE AVALANCHE.

ger, was a hay-loft, whence through a hole, the sister pulled
down hay into the rack, and gave it to the goats as long as she
could reach it, and then, when it was beyond her reach, the goats
climbed upon her shoulders, and reached it themselves. On the
sixth day the boy sickened, and six days after desired his mother,
who all this time had held him in her lap, to lay him at his
length in the manger. She did so, and taking him by the hand,
felt it was very cold ; she then put her hand to his mouth, and
finding that cold likewise, she gave him a little milk : the boy
then cried, " Oh, my father is in the snow ! Oh father, father !"
and then expired.
In the mean while, the goat's railk diminished daily, and the
fowls soon after dying, they could not longer distinguish night
from day ; but according to their reckoning, the time was near
when the other goat should kid, which at length they knew was
come, by its cries ; the sister held it, and they killed the kid, to
save the milk for their own subsistence : so they found that the
middle of April was come. Whenever they called the goat it
would come and lick their faces and hands, and gave them evei-y
day two pounds of milk, on which account they long afterwards
bore the poor creature a great affection.
They said that during all this time hunger gave them but
little uneasiness, except for the first five or six days ; and their
greatest pain was from the extreme coldness of the melted snow
water, which fell on them ; from the smell of the dead ass, goats,
fowls, &c. ; but more than all, from the very uneasy posture they
were confined to, the manger in which they sat squatting against
the wall, being no more than three feet four inches broad.
This interesting case of overwhelming by an avalanche, which
bas been frequently printed, is not solitary in the annals of
Switzerland. Instances of a similar nature, though more disastrous
in causing loss of life, are of frequent occurrence. A case of
overwhelming, attended with circumstances very closely re
sembling those in the above narrative, happened as lately as
the spring of 1818. The village of La CoUe, in the lower Alps,
was covered by an avalanche, which buried one of the houses

SWISS HUNTING THE CHAMOIS

^^^^^

P. 279.

THE AVALANCHE. 279

for a period of twenty-three days. At the end of that period,
the villagers gained access to the house by digging away the
snow, when a man and a young girl were found in it alive. By
a most fortunate circumstance, these two persons, at the time of
the fall, were together in a part of the dwelling in which were all
their provisions, with a cow and a goat ; and the milk of these
animals, which they fed with potatoes and bread, distributed with
the most careful economy, had sufficed for their sustenance
during their long and dismal captivity.
It sometimes happens that the Swiss hunters engaged in
the pursuit of the chamois, their favourite game, fall into
chasms and crevices of the rooks, and are buried by the snow,
whioh is loosened by their fall. In this way many perish ; but
there are instances" on record of hunters rescued after several
days of confinement in a horrid prison of this kind.

THE THREE FRIENDS OF BRUSSELS.
Some years ago there resided at Brussels three young men,
named Charles Darancourt, Theodore de Valmont, and Ernest
de St. Maure, whose friendship for each other was of so ardent a
nature, that they were generally known by the title of the In
separables, The first link which bound these youths together waa
the remarkable circumstance of their having been all three born
on one day, and being all of good families, they had been constant
playfellows in childhood, had studied at the same academy as
schoolboys, ahd had become members of the same university in
their more advanced years. Through all these stages of their
existence, they had exhibited the same unvarying affection for
one another, and bad displayed great similarity in their tastes,
feelings and pursuits. On reaching manhood, however, circum
stances led them, as might be expected, to adopt different
courses of life. Darancourt, the son of an eminent physician,
selected the profession of the law as the road to eminence and
respectability in the world. St. Maure, whose father was a
nobleman of decayed fortunes, chose the army as most suitable
to his birth and pretensions. De Valmont, on the other hand,
preferred the captivating study of letters and the fine arts to the
pursuit of any positive profession : and the circumstances of his
father, a retired colonel of engineers, enabled the young man, for
the time at least, to indulge his tastes in this respect.
Ernest de St. Maure, at the period when this narrative takes its
date, had not yet joined the army, but the imperial mandate (for
Brussels was then within the dominions of Napoleon) was looked
for daily, and Count de St. Maure and his lady were sadly prepar
ing their minds for parting with their only and beloved son . At this
time it was, that Charles Darancourt, who had been recently ad-
(280)

THE THREE FRIENDS OF BRUSSELS. 281

mitted a member of the masonic fraternity, took an opportunity
of suggesting to young St. Maure the propriety of entering the
same society. Darancourt's counsel was founded on certain
stories told of soldiers having fallen into the hands of the enemy,
and having been saved by discovering a brother mason in some
of the captors. " Now who knows," cried the young barrister,
with the ardour of friendship, " but you, St. Maure, may be
thrown into a similar situation, and may escape by the like
means !" Though disposed to look upon the mystery of masonry as
a useless mummery, St. Maure allowed himself to be persuaded
by his friend, and promised to undergo initiation at an early day.
At the same time he would consent only on condition of Daran
court himself acting as sole initiator, which the barrister, however
irregular the proceedings might be, professed his willingness to
undertake. During the Sunday immediately following the day on which
this conversation took place. Count de St. Maure's house was ob
served to be shut up by the neighbours. None of the inmates,
at least, were seen to issue from it, though they had ever been
remarkable for their punctuality in attendance on the services of
the church. The neighbours, however, merely concluded some of
them to be ill. But about eight o'clock in the evening, Charles
Darancourt andTheodore de Valmont called, in order to spend a
social hour with the family. Their repeated knockings at the door
remaining unanswered, they at length alarmed the neighbourhood.
The door was burst open, and to the horror of the spectators, four
murdered bodies were found in the various bedrooms. The
corpses, whose throats were shockingly cut, were those of the
Count de St. Maure, his lady, aud their two servants. It was
also found that a desk ,had been broken open, and plundered of
valuable jewels, known to have been there. On this appalling
discovery, Darancourt, whose friendship for the family was well
known, appeared at first paralyzed with grief. When he re
covered from his trance-like stupor, he rushed from the house,
exclaiming, " My friend ! my dear Ernest ! Where is my poor
&iend ?" This exclamation called the minds of the spectators
24*

282 THE THREE FRIENDS OF BRUSSELS.

for the first time, to the circumstance of young St. Maure's ab
sence. The authorities were speedily called to the spot, and,
among other steps taken, a search was instituted for Ernest de
St. Maure. De Valmont, who retained much more presence of
mind than Darancourt exhibited, conducted in person the search
for Ernest. But the whole of Brussels was examined in vain.
The young man was to be seen nowhere.
At the solemn investigation which tookplace into tbe whole of
this tragic affair, circumstances came out which tended strongly to
fix the guilt of parricide on the missing youth. A pen-knife marked
with his initials, was found near the scene of slaughter, covered
with blood. This to all appearance was the instrument with
which the murders had been committed. Rewards were offered
for the apprehension of young St. Maure, and in the estimation
of all men he was accounted a parricide, until on the sixth
morning after the murders, a new turn was given to the affair
by the discovery of the youth's body in a stagnant well, in the
outskirts of the city. At first, indeed, as no wound was seen
on the body, it was only thought that he had added self-destruc
tion to his other crimes, but on a more minute examination, a
small puncture was detected on the breast, immediately over the .
heart. This had well nigh been passed over as a trifling and
accidental .scratch. At the urgent entreaty of one surgeon,
however, the chest wa^ thoroughly laid open, when it was found
that the heart had been pierced to its centre by a sharp instru
ment of exceeding minuteness, in a direct line with the external
puncture. This obviously had been the cause of death. As
the young man could not have thus slain himself, and then have
conveyed his body to the well, it became apparent to all that
Ernest de St. Maure also had fallen a victim to the same conspi
racy whioh had overwhelmed his parents. This, at all events,
¦was the slrnng pi-e,=Mmp:inn ; and so satisfactory did the disco
very appear to the authorities, that they laid the son in the same
grave with his parents, thus clearing his memory, as far as they
could, from the dreadful charge of being a parricide. The argu
ments of Charles Darancourt were chiefly instrumental in pro-

THE THREE FfelENDS OF BRUSSELS. 283

curing this justice for his departed friend. The young advocate
displayed in this cause all the warmth of sorrowing affection,
and all the po-vrer of forensic genius. No further light was thrown
on the fate of the St. Maures, until some weeks after the tra^o
event. Several papers were then discovered in an escritoire, by
the late count's brother, which threw a dark suspicion on one of
the most intimate friends of the deceased — Theodore de Valmont I
It appeared by these documents that de Valmont had fixed his
affections on Emily Duplessis, a beautiful young lady, who re
turned his passion, in spite of a long standing quarrel between
their families. Ernest de St. Maure and Charles Darancourt had
been de Valmont's only confidants, and had assisted him in procur
ing interviews with the object of his affections. Being thus oc
casionally brought into contact with the young lady, Ernest de
St. Maure had himself been inspired with a deep and unhappy
passion for Emi^ Duplessis. He had confessed this to Darancourt,
and had at the same time declared his resolution to root it out of
his mind, and to die rather than injure de Valmont. But the
passion had not been so easily overcome, and de Valmont had at
length become aware of the truth. This led to a series of letters
between him and St. Maure, which letters were now discovered.
In some passages of these, de Valmont reasoned with Ernest as
with a brother on the subject of his misplaced passion, while in
others Theodore used language that now bore a most unfortunate
aspect. "You know me too well," said de Valmont, in one
letter, " not to feel convinced, that independently of all other mo
tives, an innate sense of what is due to my own honour would
urge me to inflict the most ample vengeance on the head of him
who could avail himself of my unbounded confidence to estrange
from me the affections of my adored Emily." These and other
passages of the discovered correspondence admitted of an infer
ence so unfavourable to Theodore de Valmont, that the authori
ties, on having the letters laid before them, immediately took
him into custody.
Charles Darancourt was unremitting in his attempts to sustain
his imprisoned friend under the heavy infliction of such a charge

284 THE THREE FRIENDS OP BRUSSELS,

as this. To Darancourt, Theodore confided the task of commu
nicating the intelligence of this accusation to Emily Duplessis.
The young lady was so dreadfully affected as to sink into a vio
lent fever, during the ravings of which she revealed to her
parents the fact of her having not only loved de Valmont, but
of her having been recently united to him by a private marriage.
This information, which she did not gainsay on recovering par
tially from her illness, had the effect of widening the circle im
plicated in these dark transactions, since the parents of Emily
had the grief of seeing her fate bound up with that of one on whom
a charge rested of the most atrocious kind. Their previous hos
tility to the de Valmonts, the parents might perhaps have readily
got over; but there was now deep disgrace attending any
connection with the very name of de Valmont. The discovery
of the marriage was therefore concealed.
The morning allotted for de Valmont's trial arrived. The offi
cers went to his cell to remove him, but lo ! the place was empty !
The prisoner had undermined the cell, and escaped by scaling
the prison walls. On the table lay a letter addressed to Made
moiselle Duplessis, which was opened by the authorities, and was
found to contain an animated and solemn assertion of the writer's
innocence. But, seeing circumstances to bear against him, he
had resolved (the letter said) to take the only visible mode of
saving his life, in the hope of one day proving his innocence ;
and until this was established, he would never return (he said)
to Brussels. An energetic search was made for Theodore de
Valmont, but it proved fruitless.
Thus was justice again baffled, at a time when it had fixed, in
its own belief, on the true criminal. But Theodore's letter,
which was long and most eloquently pathetic, made a deep im
pression in his favour on many persons, and, among others, on
the parents of his wife, Emily Duplessis, or rather de Valmont.
On conversing with their daughter, they moreover learnt that
Theodore had been visiting Emily on the night of the murders,
and had hurt his right arm in crossing the garden wall of her
father's house. Not knowing that Emily in her illness had re-

THE THREE FRIENDS OF BRUSSELS. 285

Tealed the marriage, de Valmont would not betray the secret and
hence his confused answers when questioned, as already men
tioned. Knowing these things, Emily's parents longed for Theo
dore's return, which might now have been comparatively safe.
But he could not be heard of any where. The parents now con
sented to the open acknowledgment of their daughter's marriage
with the absent Theodore, which consent Emily had strong reasons
for entreating from them. When Theodore had been absent seven
months, his wife gave birth to a son, for whom Charles Daran
court stood sponsor at the font. Darancourt, on thia occasion,
after pledging to the mother and child, called on the guests pre
sent to join him in drinking, " To the happy return of the absent
father, and may his innocence soon be established !" Strange to
say, this wish seemed in some measure fulfilled, not many days
after its utterance, in a manner that deeply affected him who
uttered it. A cart was stopped one night at the city barrier by
one of the collectors of tbe imposts. No contraband goods were
found in the cart, but, in the act of search, a small box fell off,
and was crushed by one of the wheels. The collector assisted in
gathering up its contents, and while doing so, picked up a bril
liant diamond brooch. The collector had been once in the ser
vice of the Count de St. Maure, and instantly recognized the
brooch, which was of great value, as having belonged to that
nobleman. The carter was taken into custody, and, on examina
tion, stated that he had been employed by a gentleman to carry
trunks and various articles of furniture to a country-house about
a mile distant from Brussels. Being asked the gentleman's
name, the man readily gave it as " Monsieur Darancourt, the
younger, residing in the Grand Square."
Charles Darancourt was ere long, as his friend de Valmont had
been before him, consigned to a prison on the charge of murder
ing the St. Maures. The strange fate which had thus caused suspi
cion to fall on the very dearest friend of the deceased, made tho
case most remarkable in the eyes of all men. Charles Daran
court was brought fairly to trial. He defended himself with
equal calmness and ability, declaring the brooch to have been

286 THE THREE FRIENDS OF BRUSSELS.

given to him in a present by the Count de St. Maure. On the other
hand the collector proved that the count had ever seemed to re
gard the brooch as the most valuable of his family jewels, and
had once refused it, in the witness's hearing, to his own son.
There was, on the very face of it, an improbability in the notion
that a man of small fortune, like the count, should give away a
jewel of such value as a mere friendly present. It was further
proved that Earnest de St. Maure had been last seen entering the
prisoner's house, on the night before his disappearance ; and on
being called forward to tell what they knew, Charles Darancourt's
three servants were found to have been all sent out of the way,
on various errands, on the night in question. A chain of pre
sumptive evidence of this nature was established against Daran
court, and in despite of the talent with whioh he defended
himself, he was condemned to die for the murder of the St.
Maures. Charles Darancourt solemnly protested his innocence, and con
tinued to repeat the assertion during the interval spent in await
ing the fulfilment of his sentence.
The fatal day at length came, and the prisoner was led out to
the scaffold, to die an ignominious death in presence of assembled
thousands, who looked on with strangely mingled feelings of pity
and satisfaction, caused by the ambiguous and mysterious nature
of the case. The majority of the spectators could not bring their
minds to believe in the commission of such wholesale murders by
one man, and that man an ingenuous youth and dear friend of
the sufferers. But the decision of the law, though it could not
remove doubts, was not to be opposed. When all was ready on
the scaffold, and eternity immediately before him, Charles Daran
court pulled from his bosom a sealed packet, and handed it to
the priest in attendance, with directions that it should be given
after his death to his father. The fatal cord was about to be
fixed, when a loud shout arose from the populace, and the crowd
was seen opening up to permit the passage of a horseman, accom
panied by several soldiers. ^' A respite !" was the cry. The popu
lace already excited by this event, were still more so, when they

THE THREE FRIENDS OF BRUSSELS. 287

beheld the horseman spring to the scaffold, embrace the prisoner,
and then advance to address themselves. It was Theodore de
Valmont ! He spoke at some length to the multitude, telling
them that on hearing of Darancourt's condenination, he had fiown
to Paris, and had detailed the whole circumstances to the empe
ror, who had been thus moved to grant a respite. " I knew my
own innocence," continued Theodore, " and I could not doubt
that my beloved friend was equally innocent with myself. Our
intimacy with the unfortunate deceased has well nigh brought
death on both of us, for that intimacy is our sole crime. The
mystery which hangs over this sad story, heaven will clear up in
its own good time !" The shouts of the people rose joyfully on
the air, for the words of de Valmont carried conviction with
them. What were the feelings of Charles Darancourt on being thus
.natched from the grave ? He retained all his calmness, and
Merely uttered a few broken sentences, expressive of gratitude to
heaven for his liberation from the charge of being a murderer
and a robber. He then turned mildly to the priest, and requested
the restoration of the packet. The priest was about to comply,
when one of the attendant officers snatched it from the holy
father's hands, declaring it to be his duty to retain and show it
to his superiors. The prisoner quietly remonstrated against this
seizure of papers relating only to private family affairs. But the of
ficer was obstinate. Darancourt and de Valmont were then conveyed
to prison, as the respite ordered, till the emperor's will should be
further known. On reaching prison, Charles Darancourt imme
diately communicated with his friends, and protested anew against
tbe seizure of his papers. The authorities did not listen to his
request. Well might Darancourt struggle for the repossession of that
fatal packet ! Believing death inevitable, Darancourt had there
made a confession — and what a confession ! A confession of five
cool and deliberate murders effected by him without an accom
plice !
The following is an abstract of that paper's contents : —

288 THE THREE FRIENDS OF BRUSSELS.

" Having formed a deep attachment to Emily Duplessis, Daran
court had resolved to cut off both de Valmont and Ernest de St
Maure, as obstacles in his way. Ernest fell first into his power.
This victim came to the house of Darancourt to be initiated
into the mysteries of masonry. Under pretence of performing
these, Darancourt had contrived to bind the young man so that
he could stir neither hand nor foot, and had then opened the vic
tim's dress, and thrust a knitting-needle between the ribs and the
centre of the heart ! Ernest de St. Maure died instantly, almost
without a groan. Taking a key, by which the deceased let him
self into his own house at nights, from Ernest's pocket, and also
a pen-knife, Darancourt then carried the body by a back road to
a neighbouring well, and threw it in. He then hurried to the
Count de St. Maure's house, let hiiftelf in, and murdered the
master of the house, his wife, and his two domestics, while sleep
ing in their beds. The principal motive for Darancourt's enter
ing the house was the desire to gain possession of a bond for
5000 francs, which, out of his slender means, the count had lent
the young lawyer to prosecute his studies. The murder of the
servants, and, indeed, of the other victims also, was committed
lest they should disturb him in the robbery of the house, which
proved a temptation too strong to be overcome when the murderer
found the chance in his power. Family jewels and cash to a
considerable amount were the price of his guilt. By leaving the
pen-knife, Darancourt hoped to throw suspicion on the son of the
count, and this really turned out as he had anticipated, though
the unexpected opening of the old well had subverted that part
of the expected issue.
This fearful revelation — from the murderer's own hand — filled
the minds of the people of Brussels with the deepest horror.
When he was again taken to the scaffold, it was amid tbe execra
tions of the multitude, and no man's pity followed the wretch
into eternity. His crimes had been committed with as little re
morse, and under as unnatural circumstances as any that ever
disgraced the annals of mankind.

THE WILD BOAR OF THE HARTZ.
Upon the sides, and in the vicinity, of the Hartz mountains,
in Hanover, Germany, are extensive forests, which from the
earliest time have been the haunts of the boar, the bear and the
wolf. The chase of the former has always been preferred.
Though much more dangerous, it is far more exciting and enno
bling. Princes, nobles anApeasants have been enthusiastic in
this pursuit, and even at this day, the forest resounds with the
hunter's horn and the shouts of the conqueror. The full grown
boar is ferocious and formidable. His strength is great, and
his terrible tusks threaten the dogs with certain death. The
lion, in the Indian jungle is scarcely more to be dreaded than
the boar at bay.
Upon a bright morning in the month of October, 17 — , the
bustle of preparation, was heard in the court-yard of the castle
of Stolberg. The young count, Einrich, had given orders to
get every thing ready for a hunting expedition, in the forests of
the Hartz. An old friend, the young count Ernest of Mans-
feldt had arrived at the castle, and knowing his affection for
wood sports, and especially, for boar- hunting, his host had re
solved to gratify bim with one of the old-time, rousing bunts,
with dog and spear. Upwards of thirty of the tenants of the
Stolberg estate were collected by Einrich' s steward, Hans
Wasser. Rusty bugles were produced and cleaned; spears
which had lain by for a hundred years, were brightened and sharp
ened, and a fine pack of dogs bayed impatient for the sport. A
glorious time was anticipated by the young noblemen. We have
said that they were old friends, whioh implies that it was a deep
gratification to be in each other's company. Rumour said that the
25 (289)

290 THE WILD BOAR OF THE HARTZ.

Countess of Stolberg, Einrich's young and beautiful wife, added
much to the attractions which the plan possessed in the eyes of
Count Ernest. But Rumour catches the burden of every breeze,
and, without stopping to test its truth, swallows it voraciously.
Ernest of Mansfeldt possessed a very striking personal appear
ance. He was tall, — ^full six feet in height — and well-propor
tioned. His features were strongly and decidedly marked. His
hair was black and curled, his complexion rather dark, and his
eyes gray, and beaming with intelligence. The general expres
sion of his face was a union of dignity and earnestness, such as
ensures obedience from the mass. But in conversation his fea
tures were lighted with a language, which anticipated words in
conveying meaning. One might gather from his usual carriage
that he was a man to be loved as welPas respected.
Einrich of Stolberg was a different looking personage. He
was about the middle height, and rather burly. His features
were without animation, though it might be said that daring
courage was in his firm-set jaw and compressed lips, and that his
deep blue eyes had much of feeling in them. His hair was
light and straight. Conscious of being the chief member of an
ancient and illustrious house, he bore himself haughtily, and
moved among his retainers with such dignity as rebuked fami
liarity. The particular links of thought and feeling which
united Einrich to Ernest, it would be difficult to trace. Friend
ship very often springs up between persons of diametrically op
posite dispositions, probably because each feels the advantage of
some check upon his actions, or contradiction of his opinions.
Such may have been the case with our two young nobleman.
They agreed, however, in love of the chase, and all kinds of manly
exercise. Ernest had been but a few days at Stolberg castle before the
time of the proposed hunt. In that period his attentions to the
young countess had been of a character that might have
awakened suspicion in the breast of a less trustful friend
than Einrich. The countess was enchanted with his constant
and brilliant conversation, so much superior to that of her hus-

THE WILD BOAR OF THE HARTZ. 291

band. She seemed to forget Einrich's existence while^Ernest
was near. On several occasions she manifested her anxiety for
the visitor, and her recklessness of her husband's comfort.'
Ernest had repeatedly spoken to Einrich in enthusiastic praise
of the beauty and wit of the Countess. Yet the young husband
showed no signs of suspicion.
The horn sounded and the drawbridge was lowered to allow
the well-equipped hunting party to pass out. Einrich was already
mounted, but Ernest lingered to receive tbe anxious injunctions of
the Countess to be careful of himself in the wilds of the Hartz.
At length, when Einrich had become impatient, Ernest appeared,
sprang into the saddle, and rode by the side of the lord of the
castle, as the party set forward for the forest.
A boar was soon started^nd men and dogs broke away in hot
pursuit. The game happened to be young, and at that age when
it is most difficult to capture. A long chase ensued, and all en
gaged in it were nearly blown, when the dogs brought the boar
to bay in a marsh. He fought nobly and well. One dog bit the
dust, and another was severely wounded. But Ernest and Einrich
were soon upon the beast with their long spears, and by the time
the whole party arrived at the scene of action, the victory was
achieved, and the boar lay dead. The retainers carried the
animal to a dry place in the forest, which was clear of under
wood, and all were soon collected around a glorious fire. The
flesh of the young boar is sweet and delicate. Every part
of it can be eaten. While the head alone of an old one is fit for
the stomach of man. Our hunters had brought plenty of edi
bles and drinkables with them. These were spread upon the
table-cloth of withered leaves. Slices of the boar were broiled
and added to the woodland repast, while the head was preserved
for a feast at the castle. Ernest was merry, and joined the re
tainers of Stolberg in their song and toasts. But Einrich was
gloomy, and spoke seldom. To the raillery of his guest he re
turned short and bad-humoured replies. What can be the reason ?
Passing through the court-yard just before startingupon the hunt.

292 THE WILD BOAR OF THE HARTZ.

he had caught the whisperings of two of his retainers, which
went thus; —
" Hey-day ! I shouldn't die with surprise if Count Ernest
should become chief man within these walls before long," said
one. " I think Count Einrich might stay upon the hunt altogether,
and not grieve his lady much," said the other.
These words had fallen upon Einrich's ears like the knell of
earthly bliss. Friendship paled, and suspicion and revenge began
to shed their baleful light within him. His eyes seemed to be
opened to a view of crime of which he had not before dreamed.
After a severe conflict, he resolved to observe further before en
tertaining any bad opinion of his beautiful wife and his much
respected friend. But he continue gloomy during the day.
After the repast was flnished, the party set out for the castle,
from which they had wandered many miles. A fine black bear
was killed on the way through the woods, but no other incident
occurred until the hunters reached the castle, which was about
sunset. Upon the whole, the day's sport had been satisfactory,
but Einrich did not rejoice at his success. Sleepless suspicion
had seized his soul, and there was no more joy for him. Pro
fessing to be unwell, he retired to his chamber. The Countess
did not seem very anxious concerning him, though she said she
was sorry. Nor did she inquire in regard to his ailment in the
course of the evening. This indifference, Einrich noted and
magnified. The next day Einrich kept his chamber. Ernest went up
early to see him, but did not remain long. Einrich had no heart
for conversation with him, and was best satisfied when alone.
Soon after Ernest had retired, the Countess came with a brow
of anxiety, to ascertain if her lord was very "ill." A short
conversation satisfied her that he was not, and she descended to
be " company for Ernest." But alas ! she left a fatal piece of
evidence behind. A letter had dropped from her bosom upon
the floor of Einrich's chamber. Her husband picked it up, and
without consideration of impropriety read it. It was signed by

BEAR HUNTING.

THE WILD BOAR OF THE HARTZ. 293

the Count of Mansfeldt, and besides being full of expressions of
devoted affection and of regrets that fate had assigned her to an
other, and to one who was too dull to appreciate such a jewel,
proposed an elopement. And this had fallen from the bosom
of the Countess — the young, beautiful and almost worshipped wife
of the lord of Stolberg. Einrich read and was calm. Not a sin
gle expression of indignation or rage passed his lips. They were
pressed together like clasps of steel, while over his face spread a
paleness like that on the face of death. Such calmness is more
dreadful than the fiercest storm of anger. For then, passion in
stead of being asleep, is keenly at work, contriving his most ter
rible plans, and there is no power on earth to daunt or divert him
from his deadly purpose. Einrich stood with eyes fixed upon
the floor, for full fifteen minutes. Then he stamped his foot, and
almost hissed, " It shall be so !" He then descended to his wife
and Count Ernest, expressed himself fully recovered, and as
sumed the smile and cheerful tone of gaiety.
The Countess had not missed the letter she had lost, and had
no thought of a discovery. How transparent to the eyes of her
husband was her conduct and that of Ernest now. Little atten
tions, nothing in themselves, but valuable, like certain weeds,
for indicating the kind of soil from which they sprung, were
given and received, and could not be mistaken. Once or twice,
a gloomy shade passed over the face of Einrich, and he bit his
lips till the blood came. But the storm was checked and laid.
In the midst of the conversation, Einrich proposed another hunt
for the next day. Ernest wished to repose, but knew not how,
without exciting suspicion. After some opposition from the
Countess, it was settled that on the next morning, the two young
noblemen and the chief retainers of the castle should start upon
another boar -hunt in the forests of the Hartz.
The morning came, and nearly the same party as before, col
lected in the court yard of the castle. The Count of Mansfeldt
lingered to converse with the lovely Countess, and Einrich
awaited his coming without giving any signs of impatience. The
party at length set forth. The day was cloudy, and a storm was

294 THE WILD BOAR OF THE HARTZ.

even threatened. But this could not deter the lovers of sport
from the chase. They entered the forest, and the search for game
was keen. At length the dogs started an old boar, and all were
soon after him, in full cry. Einrich knew the furious beast
would not run far, and also knew a by-path, by pursuing which
he might be headed. Ernest and he followed this path, while
the others followed the dogs. They reached the end of it, and
had the satisfaction of seeing that the boar had not yet passed
that point. Presently he was seen rushing through the forest
towards the two young noblemen. " Traitor ! receive your
reward !" escaped from the lips of Einrich, as his dagger
pierced the back of Ernest of Mansfeldt, and the wounded man
fell from his horse directly in the path of the wild boar. The
furious animal, mistaking Ernest's death struggles for manifesta
tions of hostility, rushed upon his prostrate form, and gored him
horribly in the breast and face. The dogs were soon upon the
beast, and after a fierce struggle, he was slain. Einrich engaged in
the battle, and seemed making desperate efforts to save the fallen
count. When the boar was slain, a mournful group stood round
the body of the dead nobleman. Many conjectures as to the
manner in which the boar had gained access to Ernest, were
made, and all eyes were turned to Einrich for reply. But he
stood, intently gazing upon his victim and said nothing. His
silence was attributed to the extreme grief at the sudden and ter
rible character of the disaster, and inquiry was relinquished. A
litter was made of boughs, and the body of the Count of Mans
feldt placed upon it, and borne towards the castle. The boar was
carried in the rear of the mournful procession. Few words were
spoken. As the party neared the castle, Einrich, leaving direc
tions concerning the disposition of the body in a certain chamber,
rode ahead to break the disaster to his wife ; so he said.
The Countess was in the hall when her husband entered His
paleness and hurried manner alarmed her, and she inquired the
reason of his hasty return, not forgetting to interpolate the ques
tion, where is the Count of Mansfeldt ? Einrich immediately
informed her that their guest had been killed by a boar, and that

THE WILD BOAR OF THE HARTZ. 295

his body was about to be carried into the castle. There was no
preface and no comment. The Countess shrieked, and swooned
in her husband's arms. Who can find the terms to convey an
idea of Einrich's thoughts and feelings at that moment. He was
revenged ; his traitor guest was cold in death ; and his false wife
had begun to suffer for her dishonourable conduct. Yet murder
is a dreadful image to all right minds ; extenuating reasons for
the course pursued by Ernest and the Countess were easily
found in their respective attractions and passionate natures, as
well as in the fatal difference in the dispositions of Einrich and
his wife ; and suffering loveliness is enough to melt the stony
heart of a tyrant. Before the Countess recovered, the body of
the Count of Mansfeldt was laid in the chamber he had occupied,
and messengers had been sent to announce the disaster to his
family, and to inquire when the body should be conveyed to his
castle. The Countess revived, but was so weak that Einrich had
her conveyed at once to her chamber. Having given orders for
washing and dressing the corpse, Einrich retired, and was seen
no more that day.
The next morning, the messengers returned with the Count of
Mansfeldt's younger brother, Theodore. The body was to be
immediately sent to the bereaved family, under Theodore's
charge. Before it was removed, Einrich led his wife to the
chamber to take a final look at the remains of him she had
loved. Such had been the care and skill of the attendants that the
corpse presented but few marks of the mutilation which it had
suffered. No suspicion of the real cause of the Count's death
seemed to exist. The wound in the back had been perceived,
but was thought to have been caused by a thrust from the spear
of one of the hunters, while striving to get at the boar. The
wounds made by the tusks of the furjous beast, were deemed
sufficient to cause death. The lip of pride, and bold brow, where
thought had worked its magic, and on which the flush of passion
oft had stood, were presented to the eyes of the Countess, in the
form but not the hue of life. Long and painfully she wept.

296 THE WILD BOAR OF THE HARTZ.

while Einrich gazed without a tear upon his victim. Occasion
ally, he shook his head, and sank it on his breast, which those
around interpreted as signs of woe too overwhelming for tears or
words. At length, Einrich and his wife retired from the cham
ber. The body was carried below to the hall, in its coffin, a
melancholy procession was formed, and with Einrich and Theo
dore at its head, it started for Mansfeldt castle.
We will not describe the funeral. Ernest was laid among his
ancestors, amid the tears and lamentations of his friends and
relatives, and Theodore succeeded to his title and estate. Ein
rich of Stolberg returned to his castle. The Countess was weak,
and daily grew weaker. She had loved deeply and devotedly,
and when death took Ernest, she shut her heart against the en
trance of any new life. Einrich did all in his power to revive
her spirit, and forced himself into a gaiety of which he had never
before tasted. She was afraid to meet his eye, and shrank from
his close question. All seemed a blank to her now. Music,
flowers, and feasts were so many mockers, who held out to her
the ashen apples, with the fair-hued rind. It could not last.
Her shadowy frame gave way, and she was stretched upon her
death-bed. Einrich was at her side, striving to strike a spark
of hope. She drew him closer and whispered —
" Einrich — my husband — ^I die — but there is a weight upon
my heart I would remove. I have done wrong, and doubt if Hea
ven can forgive me. But you — ^you — I know — are good. I was
your wife — yet loved — yes, loved another — so as to forget I was
your wife. I loved the Count of Mansfeldt — Now can you for
give me ?"
" Yes, yes," said Einrich, " I can forgive you any thing."
"Then I have done with earth" — were the last words of
the Countess, and with her arms clasped about her husband's
neck, she died. Einrich wept long. He had hoped to con
fess his dreadful secret to his wife, but she was forever deaf
to his words, and he could but weep for the loss of so much
loveliness. The Countess was laid in the vaults beneath the castle of Stol-

THE WILD BOAR OF THE HAKTZ. 297

berg, and Einrich was alone. He wandered about the castle and
its vicinity, with a hurried step and a red and restless eye, as if
some dreadful phantom possessed his mind. His attendants
whispered and surmised. Most dropped a tear for him; for they
attributed his conduct to the loss of his young and beautiful wife.
But they were ignorant of the true state of the case. Wherever
Einrich went in tbe castle or in the wood, the image of Ernest
of Mansfeldt, prostrate and gored by the wild boar, was present
to his mind. He dreaded company, thinking others might also
see this terrible sight ; and he trembled while alone, for fear
vengeance in some shape would overtake him. He would have
kiUed himself ; but what then? AU earthly terrors might sink
in the face of what might then surround him. This is the mur
derer's hell ! a burning cosscience, without an hour of rest in
life — without a hope in death. The eternal sleep of tbe atheist
is a paradise in comparison. One gloomy day when his imagina
tion was most active, Einrich wandered into the forest, with no
companion but a boar spear and a dog. He sought to find relief
in the excitement of the chase. An old boar was started by the
dog, and away went Einrich in pursuit. The animal saw the
weakness of his enemies and turned upon the dog. Einrich came
to the aid of his pet, and a fierce struggle ensued. The dog was
gored severely, but the boar received several thrusts from Ein
rich's spear. Suddenly the dog in striving to get away from his
powerful enemy, got between his master's legs and threw him
down. Einrich struggled to regain his feet, but the boar rushed
upon him, and in spite of the noble efforts of the dog, so wounded
him about the head with his tusks, that he died. The boar fell
dead soon after, and thus the wounded dog was left to watoh by
the body of his master. There he faithfully remained until the
next morning, when a party from the castle discovered the corpse
of Einrich and conveyed it home. He was laid by the side of his
wife amid the mouldering relics of an illustrious line. A nephew
succeeded to his title and estate. Not long afterwards, a full confes
sion of the murder of the Count of Mansfeldt, and of the reasons

'298

THE WILD BOAR OF THE HARTZ.

' for the crime, wag found in Einrich's cabinet, among other papers.
The story spread; growing wonderfully during transmission; and
for many years afterwards, it was religiously believed among the
peasantry that the shades of Ernest and Einrich, together with
that of a monstrous wild boar, were seen in the forests of the
Hartz. " Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord."

BEAR HUNT IN THB PYRENEES.
At the distance of a league from Bagneres of Luchon, on the
declivity of the hill, stands a small building, called the hospital
which serves as a halt or station for travellers journeying to
Spain. In October 18 — , a little higher up than the hospital, a
small, temporary looking hut was to be seen, supported and
sheltered by a huge rock. It was covered by branches and dry
leaves, and built with loose rough stones, constituting a rude but
welcome refuge for the highland hunters. It was but the ha
bitation of a day, being regularly destroyed and carried off by
every winter's storm. The approaches of autumn are terrible in
the Pyrenees : and at the time mentioned, a fearful storm was
bursting over the mountain. It was evening; every object was
buried in darkness ; but through the chinks of the door of the
hut, darted at times a few glimpses of light. This door was
also occasionally opened; a man's head would then appear
through the lightened aperture, and be immediately withdrawn.
The appearance of the inside was rather picturesque. In tbe
middle of the hut, on a roughly made table, were promiscuously
placed a large basin of milk, some smoked bacon, a piece of
goat's cheese, and some maize bread ; on the right was an open
ing made in the rock, which served as a chimney. In this
chimney lay, almost in one blaze of flre, the best part of a tree,
with its branches and leaves, which brightly illuminated the
centre of the hut, and glittered on the long polished barrels of
the rifles placed upright against the wall. Before the flre, a
deer's haunch was comfortably roasting; and around were
stretched five highland hunters, with their caps of brown worsted,
thf'i knee-breeches of coarse brown cloth, and their long grey
st* kings. They had fled to the hut to save themselves from
(299)

300 A BEAR HUNT IN THE PYRENEES.

the storm, and were now awaiting the supper which was prepar
ing. At the farthest extremity sat, reading attentively, by the
light of a wick saturated with resin, a man who appeared
not to be dressed like the rest of the hunters; his occu
pation, the expression of his countenance, and the respectful
distance preserved towards him by the highlanders, sufficiently
testified his superiority over them. At the other side was sus
pended the open and reeking carcass of a deer recently killed.
The crackling of the roasting meat, the hissing of the snow
as it fell on the inflamed wood, the loud rumbling sound of the
frequent thunder-claps, repeated and increased by the echoes of
the mountain, alone interrupted the silence which prevailed in
the hut. There seemed some weight on the minds of the men ;
but at length one of them spoke aloud. " So, Janote, it was by
the same bear that killed one of our friends before, that Baptiste
was worried yesterday ?" " Yes." " I shall kill him, Janote,
or die; where was he seen yesterday ?" " Near the glacier of
La Maladetta." " I will go to-morrow morning, and encounter
him ; it sball not be said that this black skin has frightened us
all, like a herd of chamois." " Peter," said Janote, " the snow
has fallen for these two days, the hill is very dangerous, and
Baptiste was surprised by the bear merely in consequence of his
being caught by the cold ; you had better not go to-morrow."
" I shall go !" was the answer.
A gloomy pause now took place, after which the man seated
at the extremity of the hut rose and came close to Peter.
"Peter," said he, "how many children have you?" "Five."
"You shall not go to-morrow!" "But"  "You shall not
go !" These words were pronounced with so much authority,
that Peter held down his head and remained silent. " Well
then," said another, " I shall have the shot, for I have neither
wife nor children." " Friend," replied the man, " who lives at
the village in the smith's house ?" " My mother." " You shall
not go." " But," rejoined Peter, " now that we have found out
the villain's den, we ought to take advantage of the discovery."
" He shall be killed !" " And by whom ? by whom ?" " By

A BEAR HUNT IN THE PYRENEES. 301

myself, my friends." " You, reverend sir ?" they all exclaimed.
" Yes, my friends ; by myself I am but a peasant, a high
lander, like yourselves. I spent twenty years among the rocks
of Catalonia before becoming a minister of God ; and the man
you now name in the village the Reverend Curate Riego, was
once called Riego the Bear-hunter."
As he pronounced these words, the clergyman's countenance
was animated by a singular expression of courage and energy.
" I had come to tbe hill," continued he, " to admire the storm ;
Heaven, no doubt, has directed me to this hut to hear your regrets ;
and although I have not touched a rifle for fifteen years" 
"Fifteen years?" said Peter. "Yes, my friends; for blood,
even an insect's blood, should never stain the hands of a minister
of God ; but what I intend to do to-morrow is merely to destroy
what is hurtful and dangerous ; and as I have neither children,
wife, nor mother, I shall go, and fear not but I shall kill the
beast." " Be careful, M. Riego," said Janote. " Fear not my
friend, I shall remember the days of my youth."
A young man, about twenty-two years of age, called Stephano,
then approached the priest, and said to him, " But I, brother,
shall I not go with you ?" "You, Stephano !" replied the
curate, " my mother's son! — no; you shall not come." "We
shall all follow you together !" cried the hunters. " I do not want
you, my friends ; and. as the night is advancing, you had better
take your supper and go to rest."
Young Stephano did not repeat his request to his brother. The
hunters instantly began their meal; for there was in M. Riego's
voice an irresistible accent of command.
Half an hour afterwards, each man began to settle himself in
some corner of the hut, wrapped up in a sheep or goat's skin;
Stephano stretched himself nearest to the door ; and very soon
all was silence.
At the first dawn of day, Riego, fearing the hunters would
insist on accompanying him, gently got up, and, choosing one of
the rifles, stept out without being heard. He had put on a dress
borrowed from one of the highlanders. On his head he wore
26

302 A BEAR HUNT IN THE PYRENEES.

the small, flat, blue bivet; over his legs, the long leathern
gaiters usually worn by these hardy mountaineers ; round his
waist, a strong scarlet belt, in which he placed a knife, the thick
sharp blade of which was eight or nine inches long. He was
not the same man. His step was at all times flrm and erect,
but slow ; on this day, however, his energy amounted even to
impatience. As soon as he was out of the hut, he examined the
rifle with all the scrupulous attention of an experienced hunter :
tried the lock, burnt some of the powder to ascertain its quality
and dryness, loaded carefully with three balls, and was just
starting, when, at ten yards before him, he perceived his young
brother Stephano, ready equipped as a hunter. " What are you
doing there?" said he. "I am waiting for you, brother."
"Why?" "Because I want to go with you; and I must go."
The curate answered not till after a moment's reflection — " Well,
let it be so. Is your rifle loaded ?" "Yes, brother." "Here
are twelve balls, then ; take them, and let us go."
The brothers started on their perilous adventure. After an
hour's march, they passed the short rocky defile which separates
France from Spain ; and while threading its recesses, Riego
would ever and anon raise his rifie to his shoulder, following
steadily the course of some eagle, which was already abroad in
the keen, clear morning air. But he fired not, for he deemed '
that there was no call upon him to shed any blood but that of the
grizzly bear. At the termination of the defile, they found them
selves in front of La Maladetta (the accursed,) the finest glacier
of tbe Pyrenees, but the most dangerous, also, as its not inap
propriate name implies. When the glacier appeared, here a
mass of glittering ice, and there deadened in hue by flakes of
dun snow, Riego felt the enthusiasm of former days return upon
him, and he could not help exclaiming joyfully, " The snow !
the hills !" Turning to Stephano the priest then exclaimed,
" If Janote be right, the bear must be in that fir-wood to the
Jeft. We must climb the Maladetta, Stephano. Have you the
iron hooks and the ropes ?" " Yes, brother." " Come, then,
get ready," said Riego.

A BEAR HUNT IN THE PYRENEES. 303

In a few minutes they had buckled the iron hooks to their
hands, and had united their bodies by a rope about eight feet
long, the purpose of which was, that one of them might sustain
the other, in case of a slip. Thus secured, the brothers resumed
their route. For half an hour they toiled silently up the pre
carious ascent, and were near the plaee of their destination,
when, all at once, the ice gave way beneath Stephano's feet, and
he sunk downwards into a deep crevice. Dragged back by his
companion's weight, the priest slid rapidly to the very edge of
the same gulf : a second more, and he also would have been
over ! Both must have perished : but, gathering his whole
strength, Riego dashed his iron grasper into the ice with such
force, that he stopped suddenly. To loosen one of his hands, and
turn the rope round his arm for the purpose of shortening it,
was the work of an instant. He then exerted his strength in
raising Stephano. Soon the young man's hands could grasp the
edge of the hole ; by and by his whole chest appeared. " Cou
rage ! courage !" cried Riego, putting forth his whole powers
upon a final effort, which being aided by the youth's pressure
on his own elbows, was successful. Stephano was freed from
his danger, but he fell almost in a fainting state upon the snow. A
mouthful of spirits, from the small store of provisions which the
hunters had brought with them, restored Stephano to the power
of motion; and the priest said to him in a cheerful voice,
" Courage, brother ! — you are all right again ; let us move on !"
Stephano replied, " Yes, brother," and resumed the march ; but a
great change had come over the young man. The narrow escape
which he had made had overthrown his resolution. He walked
on pale, tottering, and exhausted — a different being altogether,
from what he had been afew moments before. Riego, who
moved foremost, was too much occupied with the outlook for
the bear, and with the difficulties of the path, to be fully sensi
ble how much his brother was changed by the late accident.
The bear was not to be seen at Maladetta when they reached it.
The hunters then turned into the Spanish Pyrenees, whieh they
entered by La Picada. Scaroely had they gone a few yards in

304 A BEAR HUNT IN THE PYRENEES.

this direction, when Riego -^topped short, and, without turning
round, made a sign to his companion to stand still also. The
priest then laid his ear to the ground, and heard a low growling
sound, which he immediately pronounced to be the snarl of the
bear. "He is not far off," said Riego, in a whisper. "Let us
mount this platform, and we are sure to see him. Follow me."
The brothers ascended the platform in question by a narrow ridge,
fianked on the right and left by a steep precipice. On the side
opposite to where the hunters were, there was another precipitous
pass. Having completed the ascent, the brothers looked round,
and in a few moments saw an enormous bear moving slowly
down the dry rocky bed of a torrent. " Here he is !" cried th«
curate. " Stephano ! make ready ; he will immediately pass the
corner before us, close to that fir-tree ; fire at him there. Mark for
the left shoulder — a little behind it ! If you miss him, I will
then shoot !"
Just as Rieg* concluded his directions, the bear came to the
point mentioned. " Now, Stephano !" cried the curate. The
young man fired ; but whether from agitation, or the distance,
he missed the animal, as appeared from the splinters of ice
broken off by the side of the brute, which at once turned round,
saw the hunters, and advanced towards them. He was at first
little more than twenty yards distant, but fortunately the path
took some turns, whieh made the space to be passed greater. At
a favourable instant, calmly and steadily raising his gun, Riego
fired. The brute, however, chanced to slip aside at the moment,
and of the three balls one only struck him in the flank. A ter
rific growl was the only reply to the shot, which was totally inef
fective in retarding its course. " Some balls !" said Riego
quietly, without turning his eye from the bear. Stephano spoke
not. " Balls, Stephano ! in three minutes he will be upon us !"
The young man had been feeling his pouch. " We are lost !"
cried he with a groan of despair; "the bag has been buried in
fhe snow at Maladetta !"
The growls of the bear became more and more vivid. " We
have no balls !" repeated the young man in tones of agony ;

RIEGO AND THB BEAR.

A BEAR HUNT IN THE PYRENEES. 307
 V
" let us fly !" oh, let us fly, brother !" " Fly !" said the priest ;
" no — we cannot ! In twenty seconds the monster would be up
with us, were we to go down hill !" " Oh ! blessed Virgin !"
cried Stephano, falling on his knees in desperation.
' Come, no faint-heartedness, brother !" exclaimed the priest,
speaking very quickly, but in his usual intrepid tones; " there is
one resource. Show me your knife ! yes, it is long and sharp.
Mark me ! in one minute the bear will be on this platform ? I
will walk up to bim, be will rush on me. I will hold him tight;
and do you stab him till he drops, in tbe left side, Stephano !"
" Yes, brother," was the young man's reply.
' Now he comes !" cried the undaunted priest ; " no unsteadi
ness Stephano ! Strike hard and true ! Ha ! the bears have
felt Riego before now, and they shall not conquer me yet !"
The priest seemed almost happy in his fearlessness. But,
alas ! deplorably different was the condition of the poor young
brother. The bear appeared. " To work ! to work, Stephano !"
cried the priest, as he stepped forward with open arms. The
monster, rising on its bind legs, seized Riego with a suffocating
grasp. A terrible struggle began between them. "Help
brother, help !" cried the priest in a voice of thunder. Alas !
Stephano had lost all presence of mind. His legs shook under
him ; a film passed over his eyes ; he could neither advance nor
retreat. The agonies of helpless terror were upon him.
" Strike, brother, strike !" cried the priest in weaker tones.
The bear howled in a terrific manner, its hideous head projected
over the curate's shoulder, its eyes red as fire, and its paws tear
ing Riego's back, while they at the same time crushed him be
tween them. The struggle had lasted a few seconds. Stephano,
wild, insane almost, could not stir. " Help me, brother ! save
me 1" cried the priest, his voice failing. At this last call, the
young man seemed partly to recover his powers of action. He
ran forward, and struck his knife against the side of the monster.
But the blow came from a hand too unsteady to do any execution.
The knife scarcely scratched the skin. The failure, and the
near spectacle of .the brute's open mouth and fierce eyes, over-

308 A BEAR HUNT IN THE PYRENEES.

threw Stephano's resolution utterly, and, dropping the knife from
his nerveless grasp, he turned and fied from the spot.
" Brother ! brother !" cried Riego in a choked voice, but
Stephano was away. Alone with his enemy, the priest tried to
draw his own knife from his belt, but the brute held him too
tight. Gathering vigour from despair, the priest resolved that,
if he perished, the monster should perish with him, and, step by
step, he pushed the bear to the edge of the precipice. At this
very instant a powerful voice was heard from above the platform
exclaiming, " Courage ! courage !" and a man bounded down
tbe rocks with fearful rapidity. But it was too late ! The
priest and his grizzly foe had reached the brink of the abyss ;
the bear's feet slipped, and both of them rolled down the steep
locked in that mortal embrace. The eyes of the new comer
could not follow them into the gulf.
The day following that on which this scene took place, was
the epoch of a festival in the village of which Riego was curate.
The people were assembled in their public room, and tbe gene
rous daring of their pastor was the theme of every tongue.
They lamented him deeply, for this much they had learned from
Stephano, that the priest had perished in encountering the bear.
The young man, however, would tell no more ; he kept a moody
silence, and the people ascribed it to sorrow for the loss of a
brother whom he was known to respect and love deeply. Things
stood thus, when a young peasant from a neighbouring village
entered the public room. JELe was the man who had witnessed
Riego's fall, and he had also witnessed Stephano's flight and de
sertion. He told his tale, and in an instant cries of indignation
burst from every tongue. " Away with him ! drive him from
the village !" were the exclamations of all. The unfortunate
youth seemed in a condition of despair, which nothing could add
to ; and he was moving mutely away, when a man covered with
bloody rags made his appearance. " Riego !" exclaimed the as
tonished villagers. It was indeed the priest. Stephano fell on
his knees before his brother in a state of speechless rapture, and.
with looks of imploring entreaty, kissed his feef and knees. The

A BEAR HUNT IN THE PYRENEES. 309

priest looked on him with an aspect of affection and mild for
giveness. " Did you not fall over the precipice with the bear ?"
cried one of the people. " I did," said Riego ; " but Heaven pro
tected me. My belt was caught by a sharp rock ; the bear was
forced to quit its hold, and perished alone at the bottom of the
gulf." Exclamations of joy now rang from every quarter. Stephano
continued sobbing aloud. " My brother ! oh ! my brother !"
was all he could say. " What meant those cries as I entered ?"
said the priest in a severe tone ; " why would you send away the
boy ?" " Because the coward"-  " Coward ! he is no coward !"
cried Riego. " His presence of mind was destroyed by his
having narrowly escaped death a few moments befbre. Are you
sure that the same effect would not be produced on any one of
yourselves ? Surely none will blame him when I forgive and
embrace him ! And now, let us return thanks to God, and let
the festival proceed."
Riego's wounds were soon healed. As for Stephano, by
many a brave feat the young man has since wiped away the re
proach which was drawn upon him by his want of firmness at the
death-scene of the,great bear.

CHEETOO, THE PINDARRY.

THE PINDARRIES.

The Pindarries were not a distinctive race, but a class of men,
of different descent, religion and habits, gradually associated, and
a,5similated by a common pursuit. They were all robbers.
The name of Pinduny first occurs in Indian history about the
end of the seventeenth century, but their prominent importance
in tbe pages of that history was reserved for our own days. They
were like the first Mahrattas in their habits of life and warfare,
but unlike them, in not being united by nationality and ono reli
gious faith; in not having the legitimate and permanent motives
of attachment to their native soil, and resentment against the
intolerant and oppressive rulers (the Mahometan conquerors of
India) by whoui the Mahrattas were assailed. From obscure
Lbebootera, they ruse into sufficient consequence to be deemed
useful auxiliaries by the different Mahratta powers whose desul
tory mode of warfare was suited to their predatory habits; and
from their preceding or accompanying them in their incursions,
(310)

THE PINDARRIES. 311

the Pindarries became occasionally confounded with the Mahrat
tas, though they were always considered by the latter as essen
tially distinct, and so immeasurably inferior as not to be allowed
to eat with them, or even to be seated in their presence.
"Their aid," says Sir John Malcolm, from whom this account
is chiefly taken, " was purchased by the Mahrattas, by occasional
grants of land, or, more correctly speaking, by a tacit admission
of their right to possess tracts which they had usurped, and a
privilege of plundering, even beyond the usual license given to a
Mahratta army. The Pindarries took substantive form under
this system ; their chiefs acquired reputation, and the claims to
the services of their adherents by degrees became hereditary, and
were transmitted to their descendants. Tribes were cemented in.
federal union, and common motives of action led to somewhat of
a common interest being established throughout the whole of
this community of robbers."
The very looseness of their composition was favourable to their
increase, as it admitted all castes and all faiths, and offered a
ready refuge to poverty, indolence and crime — to all that was
floating and unattached in the communities of Central India;
and united — and the prospect of plunder would always unite
them — the Pindarries presented a mass of materials which an
able and popular leader might use either for the destruction of
others, or his own aggrandizement.
Tbe Pindarries have also been compared to the Tartars ; but
when the Tartars came to a rich and fertile country, they would
settle and repose, and their numerous flocks and herds would
present pastoral pictures ; not so the Pindarries. "Like swarms
of locusts, acting from instinct, they destroyed and left waste
whatever province they visited. Their chiefs had, from grants
or by usurpation, obtained small territorial possessions ; but the
revenues of their land were never equal to the maintenance of,
one-tenth part of their numbers, and they could therefore only
be supported by plunder."
What their numbers were could at no time be correctly esti-

312 THE PINDARRIES.

mated — they varied with circumstances, being diminished bj"
misfortune and swelled by success.
" It is also to be observed, that the Pindarries were fed and
nourished by the very miseries they created ; for as their preda
tory invasions extended, property became insecure, and those
who were ruined by their depredations were afterwards compelled
to have recourse to a life of violence, as the only means of sub
sistence left them. They joined the stream which they could
not withstand, and endeavoured to redeem their own losses by
the plunder of others."
The mode of robbing pursued by these overgrown bodies of
banditti, will show at once how difficult it was to intercept or
suppress them.
When they set out on an expedition, they placed themselves
under the guidance of one or more chosen leaders, called Lubbi-
riahs, who were selected on account of their knowledge of the
country that it was meant to plunder. The Pindarries were
neither encumbered with tents nor baggage ; each horseman car
ried a few cakes of bread for his own subsistence, and some feeds
of grain for his horse. The party, which usually consisted of
two or three thousand good horse, with a proportion of mounted
fbliowers, advanced at the rapid rate of forty or fifty miles a day,
neither turning to the right nor left till they arrived at their place
of destination. They then divided and made a sweep of all the
cattle and property they could find : committing at the same time
the most horrid atrocities, and destroying what they could not
carry away. They trusted to the secrecy and suddenness of the
irruption for avoiding those who guarded the frontiers of the
countries they invaded : and before a force could be brought
against them, they were on their return. Their chief strength
lay in their being intangible.
If pursued they made marches of extraordinary length (some
times upwards of sixty miles,) by roads almost impracticable for
regular troops. If overtaken, they dispersed, and re-assembled
at an appointed rendezvous; if followed to the country from
which they issued, they broke into small parties.

THE PINDARRIES. 313

Their wealth, their booty, and their families, were scattered
Over a wide region, in whioh they found protection amid the
mountains, and in the fastnesses belonging to themselves and to
those with whom they were either openly or secretly connected )
but no where did they present any point of attack ; and the de
feat of a party, the destruction of one of their cantonments, or
the temporary occupation of some of their strongholds, produced
no effect, beyond the ruin of an individual freebooter, whose place
was instantly supplied by another, generally of more desperate
fortune, and therefore more eager for enterprise."
The instances of romantic courage, of humanity, and even of
romantic generosity, (exaggerated, no doubt, by popular credulity
and our love of tbe marvellous,) which frequently chequer the
narratives of other desperate bands of depredators, could hardly
be expected to occur in associations composed and disposed like
that of the Pindarries. Even when acting with the Mahrattas,
as auxiliaries, their object was to plunder not to fight. They
went before, indeed, but it was only by surprise, or in defenceless
provinces ; they were from their very origin, tbe scavengers of
tbe Mahrattas, and though in the van, had little more pretension
to martial conduct or valour, than had the birds and beasts of
prey that followed in their and their allies' rear. It must be
said, however, that though not one of these marauders ever suc
ceeded in establishing a claim to high reputation, but all ap
peared to have shared in the ignorance, tbe meanness, the rapa
city, and brutal cruelty by which they were distinguished as a
body, that some of their chiefs, (the celebrated Cheetoo in particu
lar,) united with the qualities, so essential to his profession, of
activity, cunning, and ready enterprise, a wonderful strength of
mind in bearing the reverses of fortune, and the privations of his
lot. The audacity of their enterprise, the cunning and skill of their
execution, their lightning-like rapidity, their dexterity, do, how
ever, create almost as great an interest, as is excited by the
valour in combat of others, and are altogether as romantic; — in
proof of which, the following story is sufficient. In December
27

314 THE PINDARRIES.

1816, a few days before a signal defeat infiicted by the English on
the main body of the Pindarries, who were obliged to retreat -with
the loss of the greater part of their horses and booty ; one leader,
indignant at the want of energy betrayed by those vested with the
chief command of the expedition, abandoned it altogether, and
led off about four hundred men to act for himself. He dashed
across the Peshwa's territory, descended into the Konkan by the
Amba-ghaut in the western range, and thence shaped his course
due north, plundering the western shores of India, from the
seventeenth to the twenty-first degree of north latitude, and re
turning to the valley of the Taptee, and the route of Boorhan-
pOor. This was the only expedition that evaded the British, and
succeeded this season. The only loss he sustained was on his
return to the river Nerbudda, in the following March. Here he
was within a few miles of home, but he found the ford by which
he hoped to cross to join the great Pindafiry Chief Cheetoo's
durra, guarded by a redoubt, occupied by a party of our sepoys.
Several of his men were shot in attempting to dash across; but
the chief himself, with his main body, and best mounted followers,
retiring from the ford, boldly swam the river lower down, though
not without a further loss of men and horses. Those who had
worse horses, or less courage, dispersed, and fled into the jungle
on the English side of the river, where the greater part were cut
off by the wild inhabitants of the neighbourhood. The rest, how
ever, reached their strongholds with a rich booty in their saddles ;
and the brilliancy of the achievement added even more to theii
reputation, than its success had done to their wealth.
The Pindarry who conducted this astonishing enterprise, the
hardihood and marvellousness of which will be better understood
by a reference to the geography and the maps of India, was
named Sheik Dulloo. He seems to have been the most adventu
rous of all the chiefs. The year after, when he saw himself, with
the rest of the Pindarries, closely pressed by the English, and
that matters were becoming desperate on the banks of the Ner
budda, he proposed joining Trimbukjee at Choolee-Muhesnwur,
and seeking his fortune in another expedition to the Deccan.

THE PINDARRIES. 315

Cheetoo, another daring freebooter of this kind, first attracted
the attention of the English in India towards the end of 1806.
When raising himself on the temporary ruin of Kureem, another
Pindarry chief, who had been inveigled and made a prisoner by
Sindheea, a Mahratta potentate, he united the durras of many
other leaders under his standard, and prepared to make depreda
tions, or to carry on an incursive war on a grand scale.
Numerous and profltable were the expeditions of this wholesale
robber, undertaken on his own account ; but in 1811, the captive
Pindarry Kureem, purchasing bis liberty from Sindheea, returned
to the scenes of bis former power, and soon obtained his former
supremacy. Kureem immediately raised fresh levies of infantry ;
the chiefs soon rallied round his standard, and be laid his plans
to effect a general combination of all the Pindarries for a preda
tory expedition of extraordinary moment. Cheetoo was obliged
to follow tbe example of his fellow chieftains, and at the Dussera
of 1811, his durra made part of 25,000 cavalry of all descrip
tions, that were ready, under the command of Kureem, to march
against and plunder Nagpoor. But Cheetoo hated Kureem as a
rival : he sold himself to his enemies, and went over to them with
his troops. Not long after he defeated Kureem, and obliged him
to flee with his adherents to a distant country. Cheetoo again
shone forth on his rival's eclipse, and at his cantonment of Ne-
mawur, not less than 15,000 horse annually assembled, to issue
forth to plunder, under leaders of his nomination, in whatever
direction he might prescribe.
The anomalous but vast power of these Pindarry freebooters
had been gradually growing up since 1805-6. " Its leading fea
ture was hostility to all regular governments, and of course most
particularly against the English and their allies, whose territories
offered the richest booty. The existence of these hordes imposed
the necessity of constant vigilance along the whole extent of the
south-west frontier of the Bengal Presidency ; while, for the
security of the Deccan, the subsidiary forces of the Nizam and
Pesbwa were annually obliged to move to the northern frontier
of their respective territories; notwithstanding which precautions

316 THE PINDARRIES.

the dominions of those States were constantly penetrated and
overrun by tbe maurauders."
These Pindarries did not pretend to cope with Governments,
or to establish themselves in the regions they invaded ; their ob-
ject was general rapine; they preyed upon the people at large;
their form and constitution were framed with a view to this ex
clusive purpose, and when they had fulfilled the object of their
excursion, they retired, as they had approached, like robbers.
In 1814, the Supreme Government of India, alarmed at the
formidable and still augmenting power of these predatory associa
tions, made representations to the home authorities, and requested
their sanction to a systematic combination of measures for the
suppression of the evil. Some treaties were set on foot by the
English with various neighbouring Indian Princes who might
have guarded the approaches to our territories and those of our
allies; but their jealousies, and a covert design of forming a
general combination of the Mahratta powers against us, defeated
the negotiations, when under-defensive measures were taken by
ourselves. These measures, however, could not prevent a body of nearly
eight thousand of Cheetoo's Pindarries from crossing the Ner
budda in October 1815; after whioh passage they broke up into
two parties. Major Eraser, indeed, with three hundred native
disciplined infantry, and a hundred irregular horse, surprised
them in a bivouac, and made them suffer some loss before they
could mount, gallop off, and disperse. But this did not deter
them from continuing their depredations as far as the banks of
the Kishna. The other party, which had met with no such mo
lestation, traversed the vast territory of our ally the Nizam, from
north to south, and also appeared most unexpectedly on the banks
of the Kishna. The territories of our Madras Presidency lay on
the other side of the river, and were saved from devastation
only by the fortuitous circumstance of the river's continuing not
fordable for horses so unusually late as the 20th of November.
" The freebooters then took a turn eastward, plundering the
country for several miles along the populous and fertile bank of

THE PINDARRIES. 317

the river, and committing every kind of enormity. On approach
ing the frontier of Masulipatam, they shaped their course north
ward, and returned along the line of the Godavaree and Wurda,
passing to tbe east of all the English defensive positions, and
making good their route to Nemawur, (their head-quarter, where
their chief Cheetoo expected their return,) with an immense
booty collected in the Nizam's dominions, and with utter impu
nity." The plunder obtained in this luhbur, or raid, was said
to be greater than that of any previous expedition.
"Elated at this success, a second expedition was planned and
proclaimed by Cheetoo very soon after the return of the first.
Pindarries again flocked in from every Durra to join in it ; and
by the 5th of February 1816, ten thousand, under different
leaders, had again crossed from Nemawur."
This time the Company's territory did not escape. After
marches of extraordinary rapidity, the freebooters arrived at our
civil station of Guntoor, on the 12th of March, having plun
dered and massacred during the whole of their journey.
" The government treasure here, and the persons of the
British residents were protected at the collector's office by the
exertions of a few troops and invalids kept at the station for
civil duties. It being no part of the design of the Pindarries to
risk the loss of time or lives, they immediately moved off with
what they could get; and before night there was not a single
strange horseman in the neighbourhood. The whole had hur
ried off westward, making a march of flfty-two miles in that di
rection the next day. This body of marauders continued, on
the whole twelve days within the company's frontier; and
after leaving Guntoor, swept through part of the Kupa district,
and recrossed the Dishna on the 22d of March. A squadron of
the Madras 4th Native cavalry arrived on the opposite bank of
the river, just after they had made good their passage. A con
siderable force was in the fleld a little to the west, but though it
sent out detachments in every direction, and others were de
spatched from Hyderabad in their rear, the plunderers escaped
from all with impunity. After recrossing the Kishna, the luh-
27*

318 THE PINDARRIES.

bur seems by agreement to have separated into several bodies,
in order the better to baffle pursuit and scour the country."
In a manner that seems almost incredible, they perfectly suc
ceeded in both; and "it was ascertained that nearly the whole
of those Pindarries who had passed the Nerbudda in February
had recrossed before the 17th of May, bringing a second im
mense harvest of booty within the year, and without having suf
fered any loss worthy of mention. Some idea may be formed
of the extent of ravage and cruelty which marked the track of
these banditti, from what was found to be the damage sustained
by the company's districts during the twelve days that they re
mained within the frontier. It was ascertained by a committee,
sent to the spot for the express purpose of investigating, that
three hundred and thirty-nine villages had been plundered, one
hundred and eighty-two individuals put to a cruel death, flve
hundred and flve severely wounded, and no less than three
thousand six hundred and three had been subjected to different
kinds of torture.
Unable as they had been to intercept them in their retreat,
the British, having taken the most energetic measures, appeared
on the banks of the Nerbudda, which may be considered as the
frontier river of the Pindarries, to prevent any further incur
sions on their part, by the month of October following.
This flrst appearance of a British army (weak though it was)
in the valley of the Nerbudda, spread consternation amongst the
Pindarries ; and the leader Cheetoo, who occupied a cantonment
on the opposite side of the river, immediately withdrew with all
his own durra.
Emboldened, however, by observing that the English did not
cross the Nerbudda to attack them, the Pindarries, after suffering
some weeks of abeyance, came to the resolution of pushing
small parties across the river, which were to insinuate themselves
between the posts, or to turn the flanks of the British line, when
they were to pursue the same system of predatory incursion as
before. In their first attempt the robbers were beaten back, but
on the 13th of November, while Cheetoo remained in force to

THE PINDARRIES. 319

the west, large bodies moved with their usual rapidity, up the
river to the east, and upwards of five thousand passed the
river in sight of the infantry post, on the extreme right of the
British line with a rapidity of movement which baffled the ef
forts of the infantry to impede or harass their march. In this
manner the passage was effected by others in sufficient numbers
to form two luhburs or expeditions. Owing to the admirable ar
rangements made, and to the almost equally wonderful activity
of the British, and to sundry other causes, these raids were far
from being so successful as the preceding. An immense num
ber of the Pindarries were beaten and thrown back in their ad
vance ; other hosts cut off in their retreat ! and we must enter
tain a despicable notion of their bravery, when we] see them
continually fleeing from a handful of men, and beaten every
time they are met with. Still, however, their depredations this
year embraced a more ample expanse of territory than had ever
before been attempted, extending from shore to shore of the
peninsula of India, and including the intermediate provinces
they had omitted the preceding year.
The following year (1817), after making several unsuccessful
attempts at incursions, the Pindarries were hard pressed by the
British and their allies, who, under Sir John Malcolm, General
Marshall, and Colonel Adams, crossed the Nerbudda about the
middle of November, and drove the freebooters entirely out of
their usual haunts. Cheetoo retreated westward with his accus
tomed celerity towards Holkur's forces which had already taken
the field. Holkur received bim with friendship and distinction,
admitting him to an audience, and allowing him to pitch his camp
close to his own. The robber could not, however, long enjoy
the beneflt of this alliance, for Holkur was induced to conclude a
friendly treaty with the British. Immediately after this, as
Cheetoo was considered the most dangerous of the Pindarry
chiefs, Sir_ William Keir, with a fresh division of the British
army, was sent in pursuit of him, and succeeded in partially cut
ting up his durra in the neighbourhood of Satoolla.
Harassed by the activity of Sir William's pursuit, the marau-

320 THE PINDARRIES.

ders endeavoured to retrace their steps to their haunts in Malwa,
and in the valley of the Nerbudda. Cheetoo succeeded in
baffling every effort made to overtake him, and effected his
object by penetrating through a most difficult country to
the south of Mewur. He suddenly reappeared near Dhar,
where a very high range of hills sends forth flie streams which
form the Mhye, a considerable river, emptying itself into the
Gulf of Kambay. In this extraordinary march he was obliged
to disencumber himself of his baggage, and lost many of his
horses. He was now lost sight of for some time. Meanwhile the
best of his fellow-chiefs with their durras, had been annihilated
by the British. As for his own durra, though it had suffered
much in detail, it was still strong, having, under his wonderful
guidance, escaped a rencontre with any of the British forces in
the open field. But his active enemies were gathering'closer and
closer around his last lair, and were no longer to be avoided.
On the night of the 25th of January, 1818, a strong party of
the British came upon him near Kurnod, and utterly broke up
his band. The Bheels and Grasseas (robbers by birth, education,
and profession, but "petty-larceny rascals" compared to the
Pindarries) were encouraged to plunder and destroy the fugitives
— a commission they executed with becoming zeal !
Cheetoo, however, escaped Bheels and Grasseas, as he had so
often the English, and for a short time wandered about Malwa,
with some two hundred followers. His affairs, however, became
every day more desperate. Sir John Malcolm, in his account
of Malwa, gives the following little anecdote regarding Cheetoo,
precisely at this time of his extreme difficulties. (It must be re
membered that the sea is called by all the natives of central
India, " Kala Panee " (black water,) and that they have the
most terrible ideas of it and the countries beyond it.)
"When Cheetoo, the Pindarry chief was flying in hopeless
misery from the English, he was often advised by his followers
to surrender to their mercy. He was possessed, however, by
the dreadful idea that they would transport him beyond the seas,

THE PINDARRIES. 321

and this was more hideous to him than death. These followers,
who all, one after another, came in and obtained pardon, related,
that during their Captain's short and miserable sleep, he used
continually to murmur " Kala panee ! kala panee !" (the Black
Sea! 0, the Black Sea!)
" At this conjuncture, it struck Cheetoo that the Nuwab of
Bhopal, one of our allies, might make terms for himself and his
few remaining followers with the English; and rapidly acting on
this idea, he suddenly entered the camp of the Nuwab, who was
astonished beyond measure at his boldness.
"But when Cheetoo learned frora the Nuwab that he had no
thing to offer, beyond a slender personal maintenance in some
distant part of Hindostau, while he demanded a Jageer in Malwa,
and the entertainment of himself and men in the British service,
he decamped as suddenly as he had come. While he stayed, his
horses were constantly saddled, and the men slept with their
bridles in their hands, ready to fly instantly, in case of an at
tempt to seize them. Preparations were making for the pur
pose, the very night he went off; but be was too well on
his guard, and too much alive to suspicion, to allow them
to be completed. He was, however, instantly pursued by the
Nuwab'-s people ; and General Malcolm also sent out parties to
take him, which distressed him so much that Rajun, one of his
most faithful and valuable adherents, left him and made his sub
mission. Yet Cheetoo subsequently found his way into Kandes
and the Deccan, and made common cause with the marauding
Arabs and chiefs of the Peshwa's routed army, with whom he
became assimilated, receiving occasional protection from the Ki-
lader of the fortress of Aseerguhr. His durra was now com
pletely destroyed, his followers, one by one, had almost entirely
deserted him, but nothing could subdue the robber's spirit, or
induce him to surrender. His end, however, approached, and it
was tragical and singular. Having joined AparSaheb, he passed
the rainy, season of 1818 in the mountainous heights of the Mo-
hadeo range; and upon that chief's expulsion, in February, 1819,
accompanied him to the fort of Aseerguhr. Being refused a4-

S22 THE PINDARRIES.

mittance to the fort, he sought shelter in a neighbouring jungle,
and, on horseback and alone, attempted to penetrate a thick
cover, known to be infested by tigers. He was missed for some
days after, and no one knew what had become of him. His horse
was discovered grazing, near the margin of the forest, saddled
and bridled, and exactly in the state in which it was when Chee
too had last been seen upon it. Upon search, a bag of two hun
dred and fifty rupees was found in the saddle ; and several seal
rings, with some letters of Apa-Saheb, promising future reward,
served more completely to fix the identity of the horse's late
master. These circumstances, combined with the known resort of
tigers to the spot, induced a search for the body, when, at no
great distance, some clothes clotted with blood, and, further on,
fi^gments of bones, and at last the robber's head entire, with the
features in a state to be i^jcognized, were successively discovered.
The chief's mangled remains were given over to his son for in
terment, and the miserable fate of one, who so shortly before had
ridden at the head of twenty thousand horse, gave an awful les
son of the uncertainty of fortune, and drew pity even from those
who had been the victims of his barbarity when living."
This Eastern robber had himself outlived the curious but
abominable association to which he had belonged. Their name,
and the melancholy traces of their devastation, which are fast
disappearing under re-established order and industry, are all that
remain of the Pindarries, whose dis-apparition from the scenes
of India cannot be more appropriately described than in the words
of Sir John Malcolm, to whom we are indebted for the account
of their rise and institutions, and who was himself the principal
agent in bringing about their fall.
" There now," says that gallant officer and able writer, " re
mains not a spot in India that a Pindarry can call his home.
They have been hunted like wild beasts ; numbers have been
killed; all ruined. Those who adopted their cause have fallen.
They were early in the contest shunned like a contagion, and
even the timid villagers, whom they so recently oppressed, were
among the foremost to attack them. Their principal leaders

THE PINDARRIES.

323

have either died, submitted, or been made captives; while their
followers, with the exception of a few, whom the liberality and
consideration of the British Government have aided to become
industrious, are lost in that population from whose dross they
originally issued. A minute investigation only can discover
these once formidable disturbers, concealed as they now are,
among the lowest classes, where they are making some amends
for past atrocities, by the benefit whieh is derived from their
labour in restoring trade and cultivation. These freebooters had
none of the prejudices of caste, for they belonged to all tribes.
They never had either the pride of soldiers, of family, or of
country, so that they were bound by none of those ties, which,
among many of the communities in India, assume an almost in
destructible character. Other plunderers may arise from distem
pered times; but as a body, the Pindarries are so effectually de
stroyed, that their name is already almost forgotten, though not
five years are passed since it spread terror and dismay over all
India."

'"--"^^i^jiig^gss:.

THE ROHILLA.

THE HIGHLANDERS OF INDIA, OR THE ROHILLA
ROBBERS.
The following account, which is from the pen of the lamented
Bishop Heber, is replete with interest, and offers one passage,
than which nothing can well be more impressive and dramatic.
It is, moreover, strictly confirmatory of what has been oftentimes
advanced : that, as justice and mildness of government wean men
from rapine and crime, so do tyranny and oppression drive men
to them ; and when, under the latter circumstances, the nature
of the country is favourable, abounding in forests and mountain
recesses, and touching on the confines of another State, an
extensive system of brigandage will almost invariably result.
" The conquest of Rohilcund by the English, and the death of
its chief in battle, its consequent cession to the Nuwab of Oude,
and the horrible manner in which Sujah ud Dowlah oppressed
and misgoverned it, form one of the worst chapters of English
history in India. They have since made the Rohillas some
C324)

THE ROHILLA. 325

amends by taking them away from Oude, and governing them
themselves ; but, by all that I could learn, the people appear
by no means to have forgotten or forgiven their first in
juries." Their insubordination and violence are favoured by the nature
of the locality just alluded to — their province is in the immedi
ate neighbourhood of Oude, and a vast forest exists along the
whole of their eastern, southern, and northern frontiers.
" In this forest a great Rohilla robber, or rebel chief, is by
many supposed to have lurked the last seven years, for whose
apprehension Government have vainly offered no less a sum than
10,000 rupees. Many robberies are, certainly still perpetrated
in his name ; but the opinion of the magistrates at Shahjehan-
poor is, that the man is really dead, and that his name only, like
that of Captain Rock, remains as the rallying point of mutiny.
The military officers of our dinner-party had often been in this
forest, which they describe as extensive, and in some places
very picturesque, with some few tracts of high land, whence,
even in this neighbourhood, the snowy range of Himalaya is
visible. "The Rohilla insurgents are usually very faithful to each
other, and, as in Oude there is neither police nor pursuit, it very
seldom happens, if they once escape, that they can be laid hold
of afterwards. One of the most notorious of them, who had long
eluded justice, came into the hands of Government not long
since, under very singular circumstances. He had passed over
into Oude, and bought a zemindarrie there, which was last year
seized on, under cifcumstances of excessive injustice, by the ser
vants of the king's favourite, who, at the same time, carried off
one of his wives. The zemindar, equally highly-spirited and
desperate with Hamilton of Bothwellhaugh under similar circum
stances, rode immediately to Lucknow, scaled by the assistance
of his servants, tbe wall of the minister's private garden, and
waited there well armed, but alone, till his enemy should make
his appearance. The minister did not himself appear, but his
28

326 THE ROHILLA.

two youngest sons came out to walk with their ayahs.* Tho Ro
hilla knew them, pounced on them like a tiger, and holding them
between his knees, told the terrified women to go and call their
master. The palace was soon in an uproar, but he sat still, with
his back against the wall, the infants under his knees, and a pis
tol in each hand, calling out, ' Draw near and they are both
dead.' The minister wept and tore his flesh, promising him
every thing if he would let them go ; to which he answered, ' The
restoration of my wife, my own safety, and the guarantee of the
British Resident for both !' The Rohilla' s woman was immedi
ately brought out, and the minister went like one frantic to the
English residency, begging, for God's sake, either Mr. Rickets
or Major Raper to go with him. The latter went, and the Ro
hilla, after a horrible pause, in which he seemed still to be
weighing the sweetness of revenge against the promises held out
to him, rose, took his wife by the hand, and led her away.
He was not, however, satisfied with the security of his continu
ance in Oude, but soon after surrendered himself to the British,
saying that he must look forward to a confinement of some time,
but he preferred their severities to the tender mercies of the
minister, who, in spite of his promises, had, he was convinced,
already laid snares for him. He is now a prisoner in the castle
of AUahabad, but it is generally believed that he has made his
peace, and that his confinement will not be a long one, though
his offences before were serious enough."
The sepoys that are scattered in strong detachments up and
down this lawless district, have generally, plenty of work on their
hands, what with the wilfulness of the Rohillas in refusing to
attend to the decrees or decisions of Government, in matters of
disputed property, and "an inveterate habit of 'lifting' cows and
sheep, which the beggarly zemindars and idle long-legged ' gil
lies ' of one village are apt to feel a pride in exercising against
those of the next."
The Rohillas seem particularly addicted to horse stealing,
* Nurses or governesses.

THE ROHILLA.

327

and to long-tailed horses. " Take care of that long-tailed
horse of yours !" was the first caution the Bishop received.
" Keep him carefully at night, under the sentry's eye, or you
will never carry him over the ferry of Anopshehr !" The
second horse of the amiable prelate's being a short-tailed one,
was supposed to be safe.

THE TIGER OF INDIA.
The hunting of the tiger is fully as dangerous and exciting a
sport as that of the wild buffalo, and is usually conducted in
India on a magnificent scale, dogs, horses, elephants, with the
huntsman in howdahs on their backs, and attendants of various .
kinds to beat the bushes, all composing a large and powerful
cavalcade. In these grand hunting matches, the elephants often
do important service, for, loaded as they are. with armed men,
they will rush into the jungle upon the wounded tiger, and trans
fix him to the earth with their tusks. Occasionally to relieve the
tedium of existence at the British out-stations, this ferocious
animal is hunted by one or two gentlemen armed with rifles, and
either mounted or dismounted, as suits their fancy, or the nature
of the country.
A short time ago, a young officer arriving at one of these sta
tions in the upper country, was eager in his inquiries, whether
there were any tigers to be met with in the neighbourhood, and
he was informed that certainly tigers existed in no inconsiderable
numbers, but that, from the nature of the country, it was im
possible to get at them. This intimation was of course unheeded
(328)

THE TIGER OF INDIA. 329

by an ardent and enterprising spirit, pleased with the idea df
overcoming difficulties. The country was exceedingly hilly ; yet
determined upon ascertaining whether it would be practicable
to employ elephants, they were mustered for the campaign.
However, after getting over several very dangerous passes, it be
came necessary to relinquish the attempt. It became now cer
tain, that, unless a tiger could be decoyed into the plains, there
could be no chance for the sportsman with elephants. This,
however, proved a forlorn hope. The tigers, as if perfectly
aware of the security of their position, never quitted the hills
during the day, stealing down to the water below only amid the
silence and darkness of the night. It became, therefore, a mat
ter of certainty that the attack, if made at all, must be made
long after daylight had departed. A morning's tour round a
neighbouring lake added to this conviction, for the inspector ob
served some fresh tracks of tigers, and, on inquiring among the
villagers, was told that he might meet with tigers any night that
he chose to look for them round Kalingur, the name of the lake
in question. From that moment he resolved on trying the effect
of nocturnal excursions, but the method of proceeding puzzled
him not a little. Upon such occasions, a platform is usually con
structed in a tree ; but here were no trees, no bushes, not even
a blade of grass, to afford shelter and concealment, the ground
round about being perfectly bare and arid. What was therefore
to be done ? — the sportsman must either plant himself upon this
exposed plain, or get no tiger. The idea of encountering a tiger
on foot, with the odds so much in favour of the quadruped, at
the dreary hour of night, was rather appalling, and our enterpri
sing friend hesitated ; but he could not resolve to abandon the
project, the same spirit which animated the chivalry of the olden
time urged him to the conflict. He was a first-rate shot, and,
should his nerves not fail him, be felt certain that the ball would
tell; but as they had tiever been so severely tried before, there
was no saying whether they would abide the test.
The attempt was, however, to be made; and the resolution
once taken it never swerved. The lake already named, lay at

330 THE TIGER OF INDIA.

the distance of six miles from the sportsman's bungalow. The road
to it being through a heavy jungle, it was necessary, in order to
reach it in proper time, a little after sunset, to make an early de
parture. A young Mussulman servant, a mere lad, who was
fortunately not very easily daunted, carried the ammunition, and
shared in the vigil. The first excursion was made in the
month of April, after a parching day of hot winds. The
sportsman chose his position with all the advantages that
circumstances would admit ; he fronted the hills, with his
back towards the lake, which prevented any attack in the
rear, and would afford a place of retreat in case of necessity,
a rush into the water being the dernier resort. On the
first night the vigil was uninterrupted, at least by a tiger ;
other animals came down to drink, but they were suffered to pass
unmolested. The situation had been rather a nervous one, and
the return of the morning was hailed with proportionate delight.
A few evenings subsequently, the sportsman was again at his
post; he had now become familiar with the scene and with the
danger, and experienced the composure which results from feel
ing, as it were, at home ; the strangeness at least had worn off.
The hour for the moon's rising was ten, and, not expecting to be
called into action before it made its appearance, the sentinel
had scarcely braced his energies to the task, when, a little
after dusk, he plainly perceived some large animal approach
ing the water. Upon reaching it, it stopped, apparently
to drink. What a moment ! how inadequate are words to express
the sensations crowding upon the adventurer's heart, and how
impossible to imagine them by those who have never been placed
in a situation of similar peril ! A deadly silence prevailed, not
even a whisper passing between the officer and his almost breath
less attendant. Grasping the faithful rifle firmly, he placed his
finger on the trigger, ready to deliver the deadly charge. Who
shall say what passed in the breast of the person thus fear
fully placed ? What worlds he might not have given for a
change of situation ! yet was the excitement even at that mo
ment mingled with a strange kind of delight ! Many seconds

THE TIGER OF INDIA. 331

were not allowed for reflection, for it soon became necessary to
act ; there was a possibility that the animal taken for a tiger
might only be one of the elk species. But the worst must be
prepared for, and that speedily. After the animal had refreshed
himself at tbe lake, be appeared to be moving in the direction
of the sportsman ; but as the evening had considerably advanced,
he could not at first distinguish clearly; a very brief interval,
however, sufficed to convince him of the truth of the conjecture.
Twice the gun was brought up to the position of firing, and twice,
in the excited state of his imagination, the marksman fancied he
heard a voice whisper, " Not yet, not yet." He obeyed the
warning, if such it were. In another moment the animal ap
peared to have changed his direction. It had approached within
a dozen yards, and for the last time the gun was raised, aimed
steadily at the centre of the moving mass, and without the
slightest hesitation, fired. For the first time since the appear
ance of the game, silence was now broken by the attendant, who
exclaimed, " A large tiger, sir ?" Inquiring how he could be
certain of the description of the animal, he observed, that, from
the flash in the pan, the gun having a flint, he had plainly seen
the tiger, and so to his master's great delight it proved; for
upon the rising of the moon, the tawny monarch was seen pinned
down upon the very spot which he had occupied at the discharge
of the fatal shot. This exploit was duly appreciated by the
neighbouring villagers ; and the fallen foe securely padded on
an elephant, made the round of the European dwellings on the
following morning, in a sort of triumph or ovation. With con
fidence, strengthened by good fortune, other attempts were made
upon the same spot, and with equal success.
In the vicinity of a neighbouring village, called Manpoora,
which is situated in a small valley surrounded with hills and
thick jungle, dwelt in solitary grandeur a monster of a tiger,
who had become as well known as the village itself, and who had
for several years past been permitted to remain undisturbed, in
consequence of his having baffled every effort made by parties
who had at different times gone out against him. Thus left to

332 THE TIGER OP INDIA.

himself he had continued his depredations with impunity, a»%d
had become tbe terror of the inhabitants for many miles round.
To bag this fellow, as it is termed in sporting phrase, was now
the ruling desire of our hero's heart, not only on account of the
report which described him as being an enormous beast, but
more especially from the circumstance of his having hitherto
bade defiance to those sportsmen who had sought him in the
field ; vanity being mingled with that noble emulation necessary
to the performance of great deeds. Near to the vUlage above
described, runs a beautiful little hill-stream, shallow, but clear
as crystal, and a place very likely to be chosen for the nightly
promenades of the monarch of the waste. The villagers agree
ing in this opinion, the young adventurer lost no time in looking
out for a convenient position. The people of Manpoora, inte
rested in the issue of the enterprise, and satisfied after the
death of the Kalingur tiger that the person who performed that
notable exploit was equal to a second of the same nature, often
gave notice of the movements of the animal; but some time
elapsed before the tiger's plan of operations could be fully made
out. Three or four nights were passed on the banks of the
Manpoora water without success : for, though it was ascertained
that the tiger had been either prowling above or below the scene
of the vigil, he did not show himself, and, tired out with these
fruitless attempts, the sportsman reluctantly relinquished his
visits. One afternoon, however, three villagers, in breathless
haste, appeared at the European station ; they had run fast and
far, and could scarcely, after holding up their hands, and beckon
ing to the sportsman, who happened to be riding in a contrary direc
tion, to stop, relate the cause of their hurry and anxiety. At last
they exclaimed, " The Manpoora tiger has come !" which was all
that could at first be made out. Afterwards they explained that
a cow had been killed, and that a watch kept on this night would
be pretty certainly successful. No time was lost in preparing for
the expedition, and evening found our friend again at the valley
of Manpoora. The peasants immediately accompanied their visitor
to the scene of the sacrifice; there lay the cow: and two men

THE TIGER OF INDIA. 333

who had watched the whole proceeding from the neighbouring
trees reported that the tiger, after a copious draught of pure
blood, had retreated to the bills, doubtless to return in the eve
ning to make a more solid meal. An examination of the carcass
proved the truth of this information ; the cow bad been freshly
killed, and was as yet uninjured, save by the wounds whioh had
caused its death. The disappearance of the tiger was not at all
disheartening, it being the custom of the animal to leave its
prey for a while, knowing it to be perfectly safe. It is seldom
that the inferior denizens of the wild venture to attack a carcass
brought down by a tiger, until he has gorged his fill. The jack-
alls and vultures draw silently around, waiting their turn after
the sovereign has completed his repast ; and, should they neglect
this mark of respect, they are made to pay dearly for the omis
sion, — sportsmen, on coming on the remains of a slaughtered
animal, having sometimes seen vultures lying dead upon it, killed
by a stroke from the tiger's claw. The spot on which the cow
was lying was exceedingly jungley, and ill-calculated for the ad
venturer's purpose ; but after the different attempts that had
been made, and the watching and anxiety already undergone,
though a most unsatisfactory place for a night abode, the young
man determined to take up his quarters on it. The carcass of
the cow was moved by his direction to a more promising spot,
and close to one of the extremities a slight ambuscade of thorns
was thrown up to conceal the adversary from view. The Mus
sulman lad before mentioned, remained staunch by the side of
his master ; and one of the villagers asked and obtained permis
sion to join the party. Towards dusk, the position was taken
up, the officer placing himself in front close up to the tail of the
cow, and the two natives back to back in the rear, by which plan
a lookout on all sides was effected. The night set in with the
most profound darkness imaginable, conveying a sense of horror
to the mind which it is impossible to describe, and producing an
impression which was strongly calculated to render the rashness
of the undertaking the prevailing feeling. Hour after hour
passed away, in the most painful kind of suspense. Midnight

334 THE TIGER OF INDIA,

arrived, and not long afterwards, a distant rustling among the
bushes was distinctly heard ; by degrees the sound became plainer
and plainer ; there was now no mistaking the approach of the
enemy, and a few minutes would decide the business. The
sounds ceased; and while wondering whether the tiger had, upon
second thoughts, retreated, our friend, upon looking up, distinctly
saw the royal beast standing close to the head of the cow, the
body of the animal only intervening between them. It was a
moment of utter dismay. The tiger had commenced his repast,
and, with the desperate determination produced by the fearful-
ness of the occasion, the gun was brought up, and fired. The
tiger did not drop. A never-to-be-forgotten roar, and a charge
of indomitable fierceness followed. The tiger fortunately rushed
past, blundering onward in aimless fury. Sufficient presence of
mind to fire again under such circumstances, was not in human
nature ; and the villager, still less accustomed to so dreadful a
predicament, grasped tbe arm of the sportsman in the terror of
the moment, and thus added to his embarrassment. After the
tiger had rushed forward for a short distance, the welcome sound
of his fall was heard, succeeded by heavy groans. These indica
tions gave very satisfactory assurances of his impending fate,
but still it was necessary to be cautious. After allowing a suffi
cient time for the tiger either to make off, or to expire in peace,
the attendants were directed to rouse the village, and in tbe in
terim the rifle was reloaded in case of the worst. The villagers
were soon assembled with their lighted torches, but for some
time their search proved ineffectual. In fact, the chief actor in
the scene began to imagine that he had missed his aim, or that
the whole had been nothing more than an apparition conjured up
by the excited state of his mind. Believing that the tiger had
not been wounded at all, but had made good his retreat, the vil
lagers who had been somewhat fearful of searching too minutely
before, growing bolder, looked more narrowly around them. A
shout of joy was soon after heard. The tiger was discovered,
dead. A hearty huzza followed, in which tho natives, though
unaccustomed to the European mode of cheering, joined with all

THE TIGER OF INDIA.

335

their lungs. The tiger proved to be the identical monster so long
sought. The ball had gone clean through the centre of the
stomach, and it was a subject of surprise that he had been able
to reach the place in which he was found. The manner in which
this and the Kalingur tiger mdt iheiv death, and the arm that
laid them low, are well kacrwn in 'fe'ervgal.

I 1

A ROMANCE OF THE BEDOUINS.

Bedouins is the general name given to some of the roving
tribes of the great desert of Sahara, in Africa, and of Arabia and
Eg3rpt. It is still doubtful whether they belong to the same race
with the Arabs, or differ from them in their descent as they do
in their manner of living.
The Bedouins live at a distance from cities and villages, in
families, under sheiks, or in tribes, nnder emirs. Their dwellings
are tents, huts, caverns, and ruins. With their herds and beasts
of burden, which carry their little property, they wander in quest
of fresh water and pasture. They are all good horsemen, and
are generally fond of hunting. The peaceful tribes exchange
horses, (which they raise with great care,) and fat cattle for arms
and cloth, with the neighbouring nations. Other hordes are such
open robbers that it is dangerous to travel through their country
without a guard or a passport which the different chiefs sell.
They not only plunder, but murder even when the travellers offer
(336)

A ROMANCE OP THE BEDOUINS. 337

no resistance. Notwithstanding their barbarous custom, the
Bedouins bold the rights of hospitality sacred; and the most de
fenceless enemy is sure of safety if once they have allowed him
shelter. But the Bedouin considers every one his enemy who is
not his brother, kinsman or ally. " Their hand is against every
man, and every man's hand is against them."
Ever careful of bis own safety, the Bedouin attacks no camp
or caravan, without being sure of his superiority. To superior
numbers and a bold resistance, he yields, and saves himself by
flight. A terror to the neighbouring nations, the rapacious Be
douin lives in a state of continual watchfulness ; poor, ignorant,
wild and rude, but free and proud of his liberty. He is remark
able for temperance in regard to food, amounting almost to absti
nence. The following romantic episode in Bedouin life is elegantly
told by Lamartine, in his travels in the Holy Land : —
" We one day met a Bedouin, mounted on a fine black drome
dary ; the sheiks saluted him with an air of concern, and inquired
what had been tbe issue of his unfortunate adventure of the pre
ceding year. I asked his history, and found the recital suffi
ciently interesting to give it a place in my journal. Aloian, (this
was the name of the Bedouin,) while hunting the gazelle, arrived
at a spot where broken lances, bloody sabres, and unburied
corpses, indicated a recent battle. A plaintive sound, which
scarcely reached his ear, attracted bim to the pile of dead bodies,
in the midst of which a young Arab still breathed. Aloian has
tened to his assistance, placed bim upon his dromedary, led him
to his tent, and by bis paternal cares restored him to life. After
four months' convalescence, Faress (the wounded man) began to
talk of his departure ; but Aloian said to him, ' If we must abso
lutely separate, I will conduct you to your tribe, and there take
leave of you with regret; but if you will ^remain with me, you
shall be my brother, my mother shall be your mother, and my
wife your sister ; consider my proposal, and give it a deliberate
answer.' ' Oh ! my benefactor,' replied Faress, ' where shall I
find such relations as you offer me ? But for you, I should not
29

338 A ROMANCE OF THE BEDOUINS.

now be living; my fiesh would have been devoured by birds of
prey, and my bones by the beasts of the desert : since you are
willing to keep me, I will live with you, and serve you till the
end of my life.'
" A motive less pure than he dared to avow, had prompted Fa-
ress's decision : love for Hafza, the wife of Aloian, who had been
his nurse, was beginning to agitate his bosom, and was returned.
Aloian, who entertained no suspicion, one day charged Faress to
escort his mother, bis wife, and two children, to a new encamp
ment, while he went hunting. Faress could not resist this fatal
opportunity; he loaded a camel with the tent, placed the mother
and two children upon it, and sent them forward, saying that he
would follow with Hafza on horseback. But the old woman
looked back in vain : Hafza did not appear ; Faress had carried
her away upon an extremely swift mare to his tribe. In the
evening Aloian arrived, fatigued with the chase, and searched in
vain for his tent among those of his tribe. The old mother had
been unable to pitch it without assistance, and he found her
seated upon the ground with the two children. ' Where is Haf
za V said he. ' I have neither seen Hafza nor Faress,' replied she :
' I have been expecting them since the morning.' Then for the
first time, he suspected the truth ; and having assisted his mother
to fix the tent, he mounted his black dromedary, and rode two
days, till be came up to the tribe of Faress. At the entrance
of the camp he stopped to speak to an old woman, who was alone.
'Why do you not go to the sheik?' said she; 'there is a feast in
the tribe to-day ; Faress Ebn Mehidi, who had been wounded
on a field of battle and left for dead, is returned, bringing with
bim a beautiful woman ; this evening their wedding is to be cele
brated.' Aloian dissembled, and waited for the night : then,
while all the camp slept, he introduced himself into the tent of
Faress, separated his head from his body by a stroke of his sabre,
and having carried the corpse out of the encampment, returned
upon his steps, found his wife asleep, and woke her, saying, ' It
is Aloian who calls thee.' She rose in terror and said, 'Save thy
self, imprudent man ! Faress and his brothers will kill thee.'

A ROMANCE OF THE BEDOUINS. 339

' Traitress,' replied he, ' what have I done to be thus treated ?
Have I ever contradicted or reproached thee ? Hast thou forgot
ten all the cares I have lavished upon thee ? Hast thou forgot
ten thy children ? Come, rise, call upon God, and follow me :
accursed be the devil who has tempted you to commit this folly !'
But Hafza, far from being moved by this mildness of Aloian,
exclaimed, ' Go hence ! or I shall give the alarm, and call Faress
to kill thee.' Seeing that there was nothing to be gained by re
monstrance, he seized her, stopped her mouth, and in spite of her
resistance, placed her on a dromedary, which never paused till
they were out of hearing of the camp. Then placing her behind
him, he more leisurely continued his route.
"At daybreak the corpse of Faress and the disappearance of
his wife set the whole camp in a tumult. The father and broth
ers of Faress followed and overtook Aloian, who defended him
self with heroic courage. Hafza, breaking off her bonds, joined
the assailants, and threw stones at him, one of whioh struck him
on tbe head and made him stagger. Aloian, however, though
covered with wounds, conquered his adversaries : he killed the
two brothers, and disarmed the father, saying it would be dis
graceful to kill an old man ; he restored him his mare,, and ad
vised him to return home ; then seizing his wife anew, he pur
sued his route, and reached his tribe without having exchanged
a word with her. He immediately assembled all her relations,
and placing Hafza in the midst of them, said to her, 'Relate
thyself, all that has passed : I refer my cause to the judgment
of thy father and brother.' Hafza told the tale truly, and her
father, full of indignation, raised his sabre, and laid her dead at
his feet."

CAFFRE WARRIOR.

MACOMO, THE CAFFRE CHIEF.
The CaffreSj-a people inhabiting the inland districts adjoining
the colonial settlements at the Cape of Good Hope, have for many
years been feeling all the seemingly inevitable consequences re
belling I'luui the euuuet uf civilized men. This is not the place
to give any opinion respecting the policy which has been used by
the European vctidcuts there towards the native Caffres- In the
parliamentary reports, however, upon this subject, we find, by the
(340)

MACOMO, THE CAFFRE CHIEF. 341

evidence of several respectable and important witnesses, that, in
3Dme instances, the Caffres are to be considered as having had
hard measure dealt out to them by the colonial authorities.
This was more especially the case, according to the testimony
given, as regarded one chief of the Caffres, named Macomo, a
man of most remarkable character and talents. The Cafire peo
ple, it must be observed, though they acknowledge one nominal
head or king, are in reality ruled by various independent chiefs,
and of these Macomo was one of the most powerful. His father
and predecessor Gaika had been possessed of much greater power
and wider territories than the son, but had found himself neces
sitated to yield up a large portion of his lands to the colonists.
Macomo received no education, all the culture which his mind
ever obtained being derived from occasional intercourse with mis
sionaries, after he had grown up to manhood. From the period
of Gaika's concessions in 1819, up to the year 1829, Macomo
and bis tribe dwelt upon the Kat River, following their pastoral
life in peace, and cultivating their corn-fields. Suddenly, in
1829, Macomo and his people were ejected from their lands on
the Kat River, on the plea, that, by an old treaty of Gaika, these
lands had been ceded to the colony. Macomo retired, almost
without a murmur, to a district farther inland, leaving the very
grain growing upon his fields. He took up a new position on
the banks of the river Dhumie, and here he and his tribe dwelt
in 1833, when they were again driven out to seek a new home,
almost without a pretence, if we may judge from the reports, to
justify the expulsion. On this occasion, Macomo did make a re
monstrance in a document addressed to an infiuential person of
the colony, Dr. Philip, who vouches for its authenticity. Stock-
enstrom and Somerset (persons mentioned in it) were high offi
cial men in the settlement at a former period. In the whole of
this letter — this savage Caffre's letter — there is, (says Dr. Philip)
" A beautiful simplicity, a touching pathos, a confiding magnan
imity, a dignified remonstrance, which shows its author to be no
common man." It was dictated to an interpreter.
" As I and my people, (writes Macomo,) have been driven
29*

342 MACOMO, THE CAFFRE CHIEF.

back over the Chumie without being informed why, I should be
glad to know from the Government what evil we have done. I
was only told that we must retire over the Chumie, but for what
reason I was not informed. Both Stockenstrom and Somerset
agreed that I and my people should live west of the Chumie, as
well as east of it, without being disturbed. When shall I and
my people be able to get rest f
"When my father Gaika was living, he reigned over the
whole land from the Fish River to the Kei ; but since the day
he refused to act against the English, he has lost more than one-
half of bis country ly them. My father was always the best
friend to the English government, although he was a loser by
them. " My poor people feel much the loss, not only of their grazing
ground, without whieh we cannot live, but also of our corn,
some of which is a considerable height : all this we must abandon.
" I have lived peaceably with my people west of the Chumie
River, ever since I have been aUowed by Stockenstrom and Som
erset to live there in my own country. When any of my people
stole from the colonists, I have returned what was stolen ; I have
even returned the cattle which the people of other chiefs have
stolen ; yet both I and my brother Tyalie have almost no more
country for our cattle to live in.
" I do not know why so many commandos [military parties]
come into this country and take away our cattle, and kill our
people, without sufficient reason : we do no injury to the colony,
and yet I remain under the foot of the English.
" I would beg the favour of your inquiring at the Government
for me the reason of all these things, and I will thank you. Your
friend, (Signed) Macomo, the Chief."
We have made some slight omissions in quoting this letter,
but what is given will perhaps satisfy the reader of the unedu
cated Macomo being no common man. He mentions in his
appeal, that he had not only restored, on application, the oattk

MACOMO, THE CAFFRE CHIEF. 343

taken by the unruly among his own dependants, but had paid
back to the colonists the property stolen by those with whom he
had nought to do — all for the sake of peace. One would think
that after the colonists, whether by fair or by foul play, had
twice unseated Macomo, and driven him to seek a new home,
they would scarcely expect him to hold the same power as he
had done, or make him answerable for the thefts of his Caffre
brethren. Another appeal to Dr. Philip, made some time after
the chief's second expulsion, will show whether this was the case
or not. " You have bad people," said Macomo, " in Graham's
town (a colonial village.) Last time tbe governor was there,
some of them stole the chain off his wagon ; did he punish the
town for the theft ? When any thing is stolen and carried from
one district to another, and the thieves cannot be found, is one
of the magistrates visited with the punishment due to the
thieves ? I have guarded the frontier of the colony, to prevent
the Caffres from stealing from the colonists, for many years, and
what has been my reward ? Driven from my country, I am now
without a home for myself and my people, and the few cattle
left to me are made answerable for every theft alleged to have
been committed, though it may have been done by people who ac
knowledge no chief, and who live by thieving, and have no other
abode than the bushes."
Our main object in these extracts is to exhibit the intelligence
and talents of this very extraordinary barbarian. The truth of
what he said is corroborated by the most creditable evidence in
the Reports. The next incident worthy of notice, in Macomo' s
history, occurred about a year after his second expulsion. To un
derstand this, it must be premised that the grounds on the Kat
River, from which he had been first expelled in 1829, had been
given up by the colony to a body of Hottentots, who had there
formed a flourishing settlement. The Hottentots, being the
aborigines of a district nearer the capes than the Caffres, had
long enjoyed the advantage of missionaries, &c. ; and though
their race had, as usual, dwindled away greatly in numbers, those
who remained had advanced considerably in civilization. On the

344 MACOMO, THE CAFFRE CHIEF.

Kat river, then, in 1834, the Hottentots had a thriving settle
ment. Will it be believed that Macomo, at that time a wanderer
for the second time, had the magnanimity to visit the Kat River,
and congratulate on their prosperity the new occupants of those
lands, which were indubitably his own by right. He appeared
at a missionary meeting, and thus addressed the assembled
settlers : — " My friends, I am very glad to meet you on an occa
sion like the present : the word of God has done great things for
you : it has brought you to life again. It was only the other
day that you were like dogs, and oppressed ; it is the word of
God that has given you these churches and the lands you have."
Macomo then spoke of his own wretched condition, and that of
his people, attributing it to their want of education and religion.
Afterwards he addressed those of Caffre blood who were present,
saying, " Go and tell my people what ye have seen and heard ;
I hope ere long to witness in our own land such scenes as the
present. God is great, who hath said it, and will surely bring it
to pass." The greatness of mind which dictated Macomo's visit, and tha
peaceful sentiments which be expressed, met with a strange reward.
Though the chief came by express invitation from the Kat River
settlers, he had acted contrary to a colonial statute in entering
colonial grounds ; and, accordingly, scarcely was the assembly
over, when a serjeant and several soldiers came to take Macomo
into custody. The Caffre yielded without resistance, but this did
not save him, according to the statement of the only credible
witness present, from threats and insult. Among other things,
the serjeant took out his canteen, and offered Macomo brandy.
The chief indignantly refused. " I will not have your brandy,"
he said ; " this is not the flrst time you have insulted me in this
way, but it is the flrst time you have insulted me in the presence
of people who could bear evidence to the insult." After carry
ing Macomo to the next post, the officials before whom he was
taken set him free, flnding nothing against him.
Macomo bore all that befell him patiently till the occurrence
of a new evil in 1835. One of the patrol parties whioh were

MACOMO, THE CAFFRE CHIEF. 345

continually scouring his country, and of which he had again and
again complained, at length committed an injury, which stung
the Caffre chief beyond endurance. Xo-Xo, Macomo's brother, was
wantonly shot in the head with slugs by a patrolling party, as he
was peacefully remonstrating against the seizure of some Caffre
cattle, which were under his charge. On application being made
for redress of this cruel injury, Macomo and his friends were
told that the colonial powers could not discover the officer who
commanded the patrol. The Caffre chiefs lost all patience, and
war, a long and bloody war, followed the shooting of Xo-Xo.
We have only one detailed notice before us of Macomo, after
he had taken the fleld against the colonial powers. On hearing
of the intentions of the Caffres, a missionary of the name of
Kayser, well known to and loved by Macomo, paid a visit
to the chief in the hope of averting evil. Kayser found
Macomo with all his chiefs, in the bush or wilds, and the follow
ing conversation passed. " I asked him," says the missionary,
who is himself the narrator, " what he did there." Macomo re
plied, " lam a bush-buck ; for we chiefs are shot at like bucks, and
are no more accounted as chiefs." Kayser. "Why do you talk
thus?" Macomo. "Have you not heard that one of my
brothers has been shot in the head, and that we do not know
why he has been shot ?" Kayser. " But you have heard the
governor is coming to set all these things right." Macomo (very
quickly). "Where is he?" Kayser. "I do not know; but we
hear he is coming very soon ; and you must go home with your
people, and wait his arrival at your residence, and then you can
lay your complaints before him." " Macomo. "I have no home,
the bush here is my home." Macomo then went on to deny
that he had been the beginner of hostilities, and admitted that
great bloodshed must follow. " But the fire is burning, said the
chief,) and I cannot quench it." Kayser then offered to go to
the nearest commandant. Colonel Somerset, on the part of the
Caffres. " Yes, go to him," said Macomo, " and tell him that
you found me here in the bush, because my brother has been shot

346

MACOMO, THE CAFFRE CHIEF.

in the head." Mr. Kayser sought but could not find Colonel
Somerset. Even after all that had passed, Macomo, as Mr. Kayser dis
tinctly ascertained, was averse to go to war, but was pressed to
it by his chief men and followers. Macomo, we believe, has
survived the contest then begun. Our readers, if we do not de
ceive ourselves, will feel interested in a man, certainly very re
markable for his situation in life. The account which has been
given of him is an impartial one ; and it may be concluded, we
hope, without offending any one, with a wish that Macomo may
have more peace in his future days than seems to have fallen to
his lot in those that are past.

CAFFRE HUT.

A LATE REBIARKABLE TRIAL AT GIBRALTAR.
At Gibraltar, recently, there occurred one of those extraordi
nary cases, which show us how ineffectively the romancist, even
when his imagination is strained to tbe uttermost, can portray
the extremes of passion of which human nature is susceptible.
A respectable merchant, named James Baxwell, born at Lon
don, had removed in early life to Gibraltar, induced partly by
the circumstance of his being of the same religious persuasion to
which the people of his adopted country belonged. For many
years he occupied a small dwelling near the base of Mount St.
Michael, so renowned for its caves and crystallizations. He car
ried on a successful traffic in all the articles of British manu
facture introduced into Spain. He acquired, in truth, a very
considerable fortune in this way. All the country knew that he
had a large amount of treasure lying by him, not to speak of the
capital belonging to him, which was embarked in commerce.
His name was one of credit in all the principal houses of exchange
in Europe.
James Baxwell had a daughter, an only daughter, aged seven
teen, and of remarkable beauty. Her countenance and figure
combined in a most agreeable manner the peculiar charms of the
Englishwoman with the soft and languishing characteristics of the
Spaniard. Young as she was, she had been for some two or
three years an object of devoted admiration to all the youths
around Gibralter. At church they devoured her with their
eyes ; and many, many a one thought himself that happy above
all men would be he who could win the smiles of Eliza Baxwell.
But Eliza bestowed her smiles upon no one. She seemed, to
those whose involuntary sighs she excited, to carry maidenly
C347)

348 REMARKABLE TRIAL AT GIBRALTAR.

modesty to freezing coldness. At mass, her eyes were ever bent
upon her book, regardless of all the glances cast upon her by
others. Such was at least the case till shortly before the events to be
narrated. At length, however, Eliza did see one that awakened in
herself some of the emotions which she had caused in others. At
mass, one day, she observed the eyes of a young stranger fixed
upon her with an expression of admiration and respect. To her
he seemed a being superior to all the young men she had ever
yet beheld. From that moment, her calm and self-possessed de
meanour left ber for ever. Abroad and at home, she was restless
and uneasy. But, ere long, the stranger found an opportunity
of being introduced to her, and mutual avowals of love followed
at no great distance of time.
Assured of the affections of Eliza, the young stranger then
presented himself to Mr. Baxwell. "I am named William
Katt," said he to the merchant ; " I am, like yourself, an En
glishman ; I am of respectable family and character, young and
wealthy. Give me your daughter — we love one another."
"Never !" said James Baxwell, to whom the position and cir
cumstances of the young man were not unknown ; " never !
You belong to the dominant religion of England, by which my
father suffered so much and so long. You are a Lutheran, and
my daughter is a Catholic. Such an union could not be happy,
nor will I ever give my consent to it. Eliza shall never be
yours !" The daughter informed of this declaration, threw her
self at the feet of her father, and endeavoured to move him from
his purpose. Her lover did the same. But the father remained
obstinate, and a violent scene took place between Eliza and her
parent. The blood of the fiery south coursed in the daughter's
veins, and she declared that she would marry the object of her
choice, despite of all opposition. James Baxwell, on the other
hand, declared that he would sooner kill her with his own hands,
than see her carry such a resolution into effect, As to William
Katt, who stood by at this scene, he kept silence. What
thoughts were revolving in his mind, it would be difficult to say.

REMARKABLE TRLA.L AT GIBRALTAR. 349

Two days afterwards, an alarming noise was heard by the
neighbours to issue from a cave immediately adjoining the mer
chant's house, and used by him for some domestic purposes.
The noise consisted at first of loud cries, whioh gradually became
fainter, and at length died altogether away. The auditors looked
at each other with amazement, and many were the conjectures as
to the cause of the sounds alluded to. A solution of the mystery
was not long in suggesting itself. Eliza had disappeared ; she
was no longer to be seen about her father's house. After many
low murmurs had circulated, the father was interrogated respect
ing his daughter. He said that she was missing, certainly ; but
whither she had gone, he knew not. He had nothing whatever
to do, he said, with her disappearance.
This explanation was not satisfactory. The whisper went
abroad that James Baxwell had assassinated his daughter to pre
vent her marriage with William Katt, and, ultimately, this con
jecture was so forcibly pressed on the attention of the public
authorities, that they were compelled to arrest James Baxwell,
and inquire into the matter. The dwelling of the merchant was
examined, but nothing criminating was found. "The cave, the
cave is the place !" cried some of the crowd. The magistrates
then descended into the cave, and there, on lifting some loose
stones, they found a portion of -Eliza's dress, sprinkled all over
with blood. They also discovered a small quantity of hair, clot
ted with gore, and that hair was recognized by many, as having
been taken from tbe bead of Eliza.
Baxwell protested his innocence. But the proof seemed
strong against him, and he was regularly brought to trial. The
result was his conviction for the murder of his daughter, and his
condemnation to death.
On receiving sentence, the unhappy merchant trembled to excess,
and afterwards seemed utterly overpowered by the dreadful nature
of his situation. He continued in a state of almost total insen
sibility during the interval between his trial and the day appointed
for his execution. On the morning of the latter day, the jailor
came to announce to him, for the final time, that the moment of
30

350 REMARKABLE TRIAL AT GIBRALTAR.

fate was at hand. The merchant was seized again -with a fearful
trembling, and be cried, what he had reiterated to all who saw
him in his confinement, " Before my Maker, I swear that I am
guiltless of my child's death !"
They led him out to the scaffold. There he fjund, among
others, William Katt, who, it should have been said, was the
most important witness against him at his trial, having repeated
to the court the threat of assas.sination which had been uttered
by James Baxwell in his presence against Eliza. No sooner did
the doomed merchant behold Katt, than he exclaimed, at the
very foot of the scaffold, "My friend, in one minute I shall be in
eternity. I wish to die in peace with all men. Give me your
hand — I pardon you freely for the injury your evidence has done
to me." Baxwell said this with some composure, but the effect of
his words upon Katt was very striking. He became pale as death,
and could not conceal the depth of his agitation.
Baxwell mounted the steps of the gallows slowly, and gave
himself up to the hands of the executioner, to undergo death by
the rope. According to the ancient custom of Gibraltar, the exe
cutioner commenced his last duties by crying in a loud voice,
" Justice is doing ! Justice is done !" He then placed the black
bonnet on the head of the condemned merchant, and pulled it
down in front so as to cover the eyes. He had just done this,
when he was stopped in his proceedings by a loud cry from the
side of the scaffold — " It is I who am guilty! — I alone !"
This cry came from William Katt. The magistrates in attend
ance instantly called him forward, and demanded an explanation.
The young man avowed that he had carried off Eliza, with her
consent, to be his wife, and that she was now residing not far
off, in concealment. But to her he did not communicate other
measures which he had taken, chiefly to revenge himself for the
scorn of her father. He had contrived to cut off a portion of her
hair while she slept. He had clotted it with the' blood of a
lamb, and had also sprinkled in the same way a part of Eliza's
dress, which he had purloined. These articles he had placed in
the cave, and there, also, had he emitted personally, those cries,

REMARKABLE TRIAL AT GIBRALTAR.

351

which had borne so heavily against the merchant. The generous
pardon which the merchant had bestowed on him at the scaffold,
had awakened (the young man said,) instantaneous remorse in
his breast, and compelled him to avow the truth.
This confession was partly made at the scaffold, and partly
afterwards. As soon as Katt had spoken out decisively, the exe
cutioner bad turned to James Baxwell to take from him the in
signia of death. The merchant, almost unobserved, had sunk
down into a sitting posture. The black bonnet was drawn by
the executioner from off his eyes and head. It was found that
he was a corpse ! No exertion had the slightest effect in awake
ning in him the spark of life. The physicians, saying all they
could on such a subject, declared that he had died from the
effects of strong imagination.
William Katt was conducted to prison amid the clamours of
the populace, there to await judgment for his misdeeds.
Eliza, the unhappy daughter of an unhappy father, retired to
a convent for life, immediately on learning all that had passed.

I jf "^ "

ll

r !

<• t

THE TARTAR BANDIT.

For many months the district of Zaraisk, had been infested
by a formidable band of robbers, who, not satisfied with attack
ing travellers and relieving them of their property, were in the
habit of carrying on their depredations in villages and even
towns, where they committed the most horrible excesses ; and to
such an extent was this system carried, that the name of their
chief, Kara Aly, meaning Aly the Black, had become the terror
of all the inhabitants of that large and wealthy country.
For more than eight months this horde of brigands evaded the
activity of the Russian police, and eluded the vigilance of the
troops who were sent in pursuit of them in every direction. Nor
did tbe promised reward of a thousand roubles for the capture of
any ene of the band, or the whole of them at the same rate, nor
(^82)

THE TARTAR BANDIT. 353

the still greater premium of five thousand roubles for the head
of Kara Aly himself, produce anymore satisfactory result ; until
at length, upon the earnest solicitations of the people, and with
a view to dissipate their apprehensions, which were hourly in
creasing, the Russian government resolved to employ more effi
cient means to exterminate a system of plunder and terror which
had so long existed.
In consequence of these extended arrangements and increased
means, Theodore Trazoff, the Assessor of the district, succeeded
in capturing the formidable chief on the 1st of November, 1837,
together with five of his accomplices, and a young woman,
who, in the report to the Minister of Justice, is stated to be
either his wife or his concubine. Trazoff gives the following
account of his operations :
' On the 1st of August, 1837, I received instruction and au
thority from the government to discover if possible the retreat
of the brigands composing the band of Kara Aly, and to secure
their persons. Fifty Cossacks, commanded by Ensign Djuriloff,
and twenty gend'armes, under the orders of Lieutenant New-
mann were employed jointly upon this service, but all our efforts
to discover them were fruitless.
' On the 2nd of October, having made my official tour of the
district for the purpose of collecting the tax (neidoimka) from
the inhabitants, I returned to Zaraisk, having in my possession
seventeen thousand roubles of paper-money, the produce of this
levy ; but, as it was growing dark before I reached the town,
and it being too late for me to hand over the amount to the re
ceiver general of the district (Kaznatchy njerdny,) I was obliged
to postpone making the payment till the next day.
' At midnight, as I was writing alone in my room, the door
was opened suddenly, and I beheld before me a man of gigantic
stature. His face was nearly covered with large mustachios.
His black beard, his long hair hanging dishevelled, and the wild
lightning that seemed to flash from his eyes, gave to this sudden
and unexpected apparition an indescribably horrid character :
before I had time to call for help, the man had advanced close
30*

354 THE TARTAR BANDIT.

upon me, and pointing with one hand to his pistols and dagger,
he laid the forefinger of the other upon his lips in an authorita
tive manner to command silence.
' I remained motionless with surprise and anxiety. He seated
himself by my side, and, fixing his eyes upon me, said, in a low,
but firm and almost solemn voice —
' ' You are Theodore Trazoff, commissioned to apprehend Kara
Aly. Look at me — I am Kara Aly. Look at me well, for it is
necessary you should know my personal appearance.'
' After a short silence, which I found myself incapable of
breaking, he added —
' ' Well, you have examined me sufficiently. Now I will tell
you what has brought me hither. You have got here seventeen
thousand rubles.'
' At these words I made an effort to rise from my seat and call
for assistance, but the attempt was vain ; for seizing me with an
iron grasp, he threw me on the floor, and while he kept me
down, he with inconceivable dexterity contrived to gag me with a
piece of cloth : having done which, he proceeded to tie my arms
and legs. Thus secured, he searched my clothes, and, taking out
my keys, opened a chest of drawers which was in the room, and
after a brief search, which, of course, I was incapable of hinder
ing, found the seventeen thousand dollars in a box which I had
placed in one of the drawers for security.
' Having achieved his purpose he came back to me, and, show
ing me his dagger, said, ' I could have purchased your silence at
the price of your life, but I despise you too much to fear you.
If your Emperor had as many soldiers as there are stars in the
flrmament, Kara Aly would defy them all, and enjoy his liberty
free and uncontrolled.'
' He then ungagged me and quitted the room hastily. Left
alone, I called to my servants, who came instantly and liberated
me, and I rushed out of the house with some of my Cossacks in
pursuit of the robber, but all in vain. At some distance from
the town we discovered the marks of horses' feet, which we

THE TARTAR BANDIT. 355

traced to the direction of the mountains, but they disappeared at
a point where three or four rocky tracks diverge.
' On my return to Zaraisk I ascertained that the door of my
house had not been forced, but had been opened by means of
a key : this circumstance, taken in connection with the fact of
Kara Aly's knowledge of my having seventeen thousand dollars
in my possession, led me to suspect that my servants were some
how concerned in the affair : however, they all protested their
innocence, although I adopted every means of arriving at the
truth, ' that is to say,' adds the reporter, ' the whip and
bastinado.' ' On the first of November I went to the fair of Rjarsk, and
while there, I .''aw wandering about amongst the booths two men
in the dress of Teheremises, a people who inhabit the semi-
Asiatic provinces of Russia. Kara Aly's features were too
deeply impressed upon my memory to be for a moment mistaken;
he was one of the two. The next minute they were surrounded
by ten of my Cossacks, who accompanied me. The resistance
they made was terrible. The people would not lend us the
slightest aid, and the two brigands defended themselves furiously
with their yataghans.
' One of my Cossacks was killed, and three were wounded. I
succeeded, however, in eventually making Kara Aly my prisoner
— ^for him it was. He threw his yataghan on the ground, and
said, ' God's will be done ! Take me, do what you will with me ;
I am conquered by some strange fatality.' Then, turning to his
companion, who was a short distance behind, still struggling with
my men, ' Moussoum,' said he, in a loud voice, ' save yourself !
I name you leader of the troop !' — (to this my men replied, with
a shout of triumph) — ' where, if you ever yield, may your
tongue become silent as a stone !' Fortunately, Moussoum sur
rendered without further resistance, and we proceeded to bind
them together.
' When they were in prison they both observed a strict silence,
and nothing could induce either of them to afford the slightest
information, with regard to their associates. At length Mous-

356 THE TARTAR BANDIT.

soum, after undergoing the torture with great fortitude, permitted
these words to escape him :
' ' Search on the Krym al (mountain of Krym,) and you will
find the cavern of Mustapha Iblis (Mustapha the Devil.)'
' Having obtained this information, slight as it appeared, I
forthwith set off for the mountain, at the head of two hundred
foot soldiers and fifty Cossacks. Having arrived at the path
which leads to its summit, I placed tbe Cossacks, and one hun
dred of the foot soldiers, there, in order to prevent any escape
by that route, and,- taking the other hundred with me, I took the
straight road whioh leads direct to the cavern that Moussoum had
mentioned. ' We had advanced but a few paces, when we saw a man run
ning away; we instantly afterwards heard a musket-shot fol
lowed almost immediately by several others : — three of my men
were shot dead, and several others were wounded. This, how
ever, did not check our advance ; and in less than an hour we
reached the cave.
' The firing suddenly ceased. A large and heavy stone secured
the entrance of the cave. This we contrived to remove, and,
with our bayonets at the charge, entered in perfect darkness.
Its inmates, however, had fled : before the fire we found their
victuals all ready for eating, but not a human being was left be
hind.- When we listened, we could hear the heavy tramp of
horses, and cries which seemed to come from under the ground
on which we stood.
' The soldiers, in their superstitious ignorance, hesitated as to
proceeding further, fancying that the cries were those of infernal
spirits, who were angry with us for disturbing them. Luckily,
however, we discovered an opening in the opposite side of the
cavern, which, although narrow at first, widened in its length, and
brought us again into daylight, which showed us the marks of
the horses' feet which we had previously heard : by this route
we reached the position where I had left the Cossacks, whom we
found in possession of four of the brigands slightly wounded,

THE TARTAR BANDIT. 359

and a female, who, in their company, had attempted to escape on
horseback. ' We afterwards returned and searched the cavern, but could
discover nothing except arms of different sorts, dresses of differ
ent descriptions, rich stuffs, and provisions in plenty, but no
money; and when I questioned the brigands as to the place
where the treasure was deposited, they uniformly answered that
God and the Khan alone knew where the money was concealed,
they having given the title of Khan to Kara Aly. I immedi
ately had the prisoners conveyed to Zaraisk.
' When Kara Aly was informed of the result of my expedi
tion, and the capture of his accomplices, he implored me to per
mit him to see his beloved Fazry, the young female who had
fallen into our hands. Being anxious, if possible, to ascertain
where the treasure, of which he was unquestionably master, had
been hidden, I told him that if he would give me information
upon that point, Fazry should be brought to him. But all the an
swer I could obtain was a shake of his head, with these words,
again uttered with a deep sigh, " God's will be done !" I could
procure no other reply.
The examination having been completed, a commission from
the criminal tribunal at Kazan was sent to verify them, after
which the tribunal, on the 21st of December, 1837, pronounced
the sentence, which condemned Kara Aly to one hundred
lashes of the knout, Moussoum, Kendjibeck, Mumag, Sa-
harin, and Ywan Rubtchenko, twenty-five lashes each, and
subsequently to be banished for life to hard labour in the
mines of Siberia, Fazry declared innocent, and immediately set
at liberty.
On the fourth of January, 1838, the post or horse (kobilitza)
to which the criminals are fastened who are destined to receive
the punishment of the knout, was early in the morning erected
in the grand place of Kazan, and all the people of the town, of
the neighbouring villages, and even from the mountains, crowded
to this immense square, on the scaffold in the midst of which
stood the executioner armed with his knout, and attended by his

360 THE TARTAR BANDIT.

three assistants, who were selected from amongst the degraded
class of dog-killers (hitzel.)
At ten o'clock, amidst the murmur of anxiety and impatience
which always precedes a melancholy spectacle, the six culprits
were brought out.
Kara Aly walked first, his head erect, his eyes bright and
fierce, his step firm ; the executioner having taken off his clothes,
he permitted him, without a word, without a look, or the slight
est demonstration of feeling, to fasten him to the dreadful kobi
litza, and when he struck him the first blow with the terrible in
strument of punishment, formed of lashes of leather, each lash
having at its end an iron hook, Kara Aly flinched not ; neither
groan nor sigh escaped him, although the executioner continued
his horrid duty, interrupted only by periodically taking large
bumpers of brandy. The number of blows were anxiously counted
by the crowds who surrounded the scaffold, and who were abso
lutely terrified at what appeared the superhuman fortitude of the
suffering victim.
Tbe hundredth blow having plashed into his bleeding
back, Kara Aly was loosened from the kobilitza, but
the executioner held in his arms only a corpse — Kara Aly was
dead !
His five accomplices received their twenty-five lashes each,
and following the example of their leader, uttered no murmur
of complaint ; after the punishment their mangled bodies were
removed to the hospital, whence, if they recover from the effects
of the discipline, they will be, according to their sentence, trans
ported to the government mines at Nertchynsk
The search after the treasures which were unquestionably in
Kara Aly's possession in the cavern, has been renewed, but with
out success. Fazry has remained ever since the execution in a state
of stupor, which the faculty are of opinion will settle into melan
choly madness; and the Assessor Trazoff, has been rewarded
for his zeal and success by receiving the decoration of the order
of St. Anne.

CALED AND OBEIDAH:
OR, THE SCHOOLMASTER OF MEDINA.
In the third year of the Calif Aii, the son of Abu Taleb, a
poor schoolmaster of Medina dismissed his pupils to their play,
beneath a shady palm-tree, near the sacred mosque which con
tained the tomb of the prophet. The young boys went forth joy
fully to freedom, and the long-bearded sage, himself unobserved,
overlooked their sports from a neighbouring seat. For a time,
the fiery little Arabs amused themselves in peace, and the philoso
pher smiled as he listened to their artless remarks, and sighed as
he remembered the days that were gone. He was reputed the
wisest and best Mussulman within the walls of the city, and it
was asserted that his benevolence equalled his wisdom. Every
body loved the good Amrou ; and . the few children who were
committed to his care, among the illiterate and warlike Saracens
of that remote age, were expected, not only to attain knowledge
enough to interpret the koran, and to cure diseases, but to read
human destiny in the sky, that lay ever brilliant and burning
over the sandy plains of Arabia.
While the children were at play, a spider, which had acci
dentally crawled upon their path, attracted the attention of
Hassan. " Look," said the lad, " what a vile insect. He shall not live
another moment !"
" Stay thy foot, Hassan !" cried the eager Obeidah, " do not
destroy it. Stay thy foot !"
" Nay — take thy hand from my shoulder, good Obeidah," re
plied Hassan. " See ! the grim wretch is gliding away into the
grass. I will kill him ! I swear it ! Take ofi' thy hand !"
(§63)

364 CALED AND OBEIDAH.

" Hassan," urged the other firmly, " thou shalt not kill
him !"
"Obeidah  "
" I have heard a story of the spider," continued the other,
" which makes me love him."
" By the beard of the great apostle himself !" exclaimed the
now angry Hassan, "I tell thee I will crush this poisonous
wretch ! Let go my arm ! What care I for thy tales ? Thou
art a girl to pity a spider, and be melted by stories !"
And he attempted to reach the poor insect with a furious
stamp, but Obeidah caught him yet more powerfully, and said, in
a determined tone,
" Hassan, before thou proceedest to provoke me by again striv
ing to do what I swear, by Allah, thou shalt not do ! hear my
reason." And while Hassan looked up fiercely, too much astonished for
the moment to disobey, the rest of the young auditors drew
round in a circle, some to hear the story, and some to enjoy the
expected battle.
" The reason why thou shalt not kill the creature," said Obei
dah, " is this : I have heard my grandfather say, that he was one
of the emissaries of the koreish, who, when the great apostle of
God was driven from Mecca, hunted him like a beast, and strove
to take his life. The prophet had hidden in a cavern, in the
neighbourhood of the city, and the koreish had every where
sought him with eager revenge till they came to the mouth of
this cave. They were about to explore it, when one, observing
a pigeon's nest and a spider's web across the entrance, declared
them sufficient evidence that no one could be within, and, as they
were in haste, called off the pursuers to another quarter. God's
vicar on earth was thus shielded from their cimeters. Since that
time my grandsire became a believer, and has taught me never
to destroy either a pigeon or a spider."
"Fool!" vociferated Hassan, "I mind thee and thy grandsire
alike, and neither more than the wind. I will 'kill the thing, if
it be but to spite thee !"

CALED AND OBEIDAH. 365

He tore himself from the grasp of his opponent, and sought
his victim, but it had very judiciously seized the opportunity to
withdraw, leaving the end of Obeidah's story to others more in
terested. "Coward and slave!" cried Obeidah, in a fury, "I will tear
out thine eyes ! I will dash out thy teeth !"
And the two combatants flew at each other with all the ferocity
of hate and passion. While they were fighting, Amrou, their
master, came among them, and, after separating them, proceeded
to inflict on each a severe punishment. He then harangued
them on their wicked disposition to quarrel, and promised them
the same penalty in case the offence were repeated.
Long before the day had declined, and while the boys were
dismissed once more to their afternoon sports beneath the palm,
Obeidah entangled himself in a new difficulty. Caled, a youth
of great personal beauty and of a thoughtful demeanour, had
stolen away from his companions to a quiet spot, where, quite
alone, he seemed lost in his own reflections, Obeidah, still
smarting under the blows he had received in the morning, and
believing the severe Amrou to be out of sight and hearing, took
pains to follow the unoffending Caled, and maliciously tried every
possible endeavour to break his solitude, and to disturb his
thoughts. Caled yielded the place and removed to one in an
opposite direction, but still he was pursued by Obeidah.
" Why dost thon delight in breaking my repose ?" demanded
Caled. " I never injured thee, or if I have, it was unconsciously,
and I pray thy forgiveness."
"I follow thee, because I despise thee!" cried Obeidah
sternly. "What have I done to merit thy contempt?"
" Every thing that a ma?i would not do. Thou art a coward
and a woman !"
_" I beseech thee, good Obeidah, begone !"
"I am not '^oocZ' Obeidah,' and I will not begone."
" Then / will depart from thee."
" If thou dost, I will follow. I saw thee smile to-day, when
31*

366 CALED AND OBEIDAH.

the tyrant Amrou disgraced me with a scourge. Why didst thou
dare to smile to see me under the lash — me, the superior of thee
and thine ?"
" Obeidah  "
" Thy father is a traitor !"
" My dear Obeidah."
" Thy mother is untrue !"
" I have never deserved this !" cried Caled, shrinking and
weeping. " Thou comest of a race of cowards and recreants. Thy uncle
Hamza fought against the prophet, till fear made him crouch at
the feet of him he had injured."
" But that our master, Amrou, forbids it, I would make thee
retract thy wicked words," said Caled, but shrinking yet farther
against the wall from the clenched fist, planted foot, and flashing
eye of his fierce opponent.
At this instant the signal of Amrou once more assembled his
little charge, and, to the astonishment of all, he ordered the
timid Caled to undergo the same punishment for refusing to com
bat, as had been previously inflicted on the others for having
fought. Obeidah, who since the morning had seemed gradually to grow
more haughty and fearless of consequences, now stepped forward
boldly, and said —
" Oh, Amrou, I brand thee with caprice and injustice, and
thou shalt no longer be my master !"
" How ! insolent boy ?"
" I repeat my words. Thou art no longer my master ! I call
upon my companions to break thy sceptre, and hurl thee from
thy throne. Every inhabitant of Medina will pronounce against
thee." With these words he started up, and was joined by all his
mates. The weeping Caled, alone, shrank back and crouched to
the side of him who had just scourged him.
At this instant, surrounded by many chiefs of the tribes and
companions of the prophet, clothed in a loose gown, with a coarse

CALED AND OBEIDAH 367

turban on his head, the Calif Aii, attracted by the noise, on his
return from prayer at tho mosque, entered the apartment.
" How !" cried the venerable sovereign, " What riot is this ?
Must the very prayers of the faithful be disturbed by the brawl
ing of boys ! What is the cause of this?"
No one could look on the majestic Aii without fear and awe.
He was next the prophet in the reverence of the Saracens. He
had been, even at the age of fourteen, the first proselyte of Is-
lamism, the firmest supporter and most confidential personal
friend of Mahomet himself. Seated, at length, on the throne of
Arabia (for it was not till twenty-four years after the death of
the prophet that he was invested with the regal and sacerdotal
office,) though in his manners and dress, he exhibited the primitive
simplicity of his people, he was rash, intrepid, and fiery — a despot
over the minds as' well as the bodies of his subjects. While he
exercised over theJr domestic affairs the personal jurisdiction of a
father, he punished with the summary power of a monarch, and,
sometimes, of a tyrant. The boys, astounded by the angry pre
sence of their calif, stood around him mute, trembling, and pale ;
and the dusky complexion of Amrou himself, if reliance can be
placed on subsequent report, exhibited a fainter shade beneath
the folds of his turban.
The calif repeated his question in a sterner tone, and Amrou,
bending ofttimes low at the monarch's feet, was about to attempt
an explanation, and had proceeded as far as " Oh, invincible, in
expressible calif, sword of God, vicegerent of the holy apostle — "
when the calif cut him short : —
" Stay, thou trembling slave ! I will none of thy excuses and
falsehoods ! It is such as thou that weaken our armies by keep
ing our sons at home, and teaching them to talk instead of fight;
breaking down their fiery spirits with idle learning. Of what
oppression has he been guilty ? speak, my brave rebels, and you
lofty youth at their head. Tell me, boy, what tyranny in thy
pedagogue has raised you into this childish war. If he hath tram
pled on your infant rights, by Allah ! his head shall roll for it.

368 CALED AND OBEIDAH.

and that ere we stir a foot. Speak fearlessly — what has he
done ?"
"He bas oppressed us," said the revengeful Obeidah. "I did
but seek to save a spider, because that insect, at the cave of
Mecca, rescued the life of the true prophet from the bands of the
Koreish !"
" Ay ?" continued the calif, stroking his beard, and casting a
fierce glance upon the crouching Amrou.
" I would have saved it at the hazard of my life, and I fought
like a lion ; but the tyrant striped me for breaking the peace
of his school."
" Hosein," said Aii ;• " thy duty !"
A swarthy slave, at the significant sign of his master's finger,
stepped forward and seized his victim. The fatal bowstring was
produced in an instant. Amrou, recovering his courage and dig
nity in proportion as his danger grew more inevitable, stood high
and stern, even as the calif himself.
"Companion of the prophet !" he said, in a firm voice; "The
near sight of death for a moment, appalled me ; but the weakness
has passed. Ere thou reach thy palace, I shall be before God
and his company, with his prophet to proclaim thy injustice."
" Go," said Aii, and a moment more would have consummated
the deed, when Caled, triumphing in the destruction of his mas
ter, cried out,
" He merits, O, mighty calif, a double death ; for, while he
lashed Obeidah for battling with Hassan, he capriciously scourged
me, because I refused to confiict with Obeidah."
"What! the same penalty for exactly contrary actions? Thou
art either worse or better than I believed," said Aii. " My cu
riosity is excited. Canst thou defend thyself, Amrou ?"
"If thou wilt permit me," cried the Arabian teacher of
youth. "Proceed," said the calif
" Know, then, 0, immortal son of Abu Taleb ! that the gov
ernment of children, like that of nations, requires wisdom pro
found, and is often apparently, unjust and inconsistent. We are

CALED AND OBEIDAH. 369

obliged to examine deeply into each disposition, and to discover
their respective relations to future events. I confess, I have
punished one of my children for not committing an action, for
the commission of which I punished another ; and I shall, there
fore, be charged by the thoughtless with passion and caprice.
Of both I am innocent; and so far from having yielded, in either
case to my own private feelings, I assure you that I equally re
coiled from them both. Caled and Obediah, 0 calif! the two
youths who have spoken against me, are the two most conspicu
ous characters in my school. Obeidah is in heart a rebel and a
despot. He possesses natural qualities in a most eminent degree,
which, as he emerges from his little school and enters upon the
world, would prove, not only misery and ruin to himself, but dis
turbance and danger, to his family, friends and country. His
courage is not only of a kind to lead him into war, and render
him a gallant soldier and a faithful subject, but his overbearing
nature demands submission in all cases Right or wrong, from
all persons, friends or enemies, old or young, his inferiors, his
equals, or his superiors, all alike, must bend to the despotism of
Obeidah. This is the grand feature of his character, whieh alone
has been in my hands utterly unmanageable. His other quali
ties are so feeble, and moreover, so well balanced, as to require
no attention from me. His aviditj- after knowledge is also more
than sufficient. He has no fault, but his, domineering arrogance.
To repress, shame, and destroy it, has been my sole endeavour
in my treatment of him. How justly I read his character this
day has proved ; for his revengeful and audacious heart has felt
uo pity at the sight of the venerable instructor of his youth on
the brink of ruin. The same spirit which triumphs over me,
will one day, unless checked, defy even thee on thy throne, as
thou hast seen it to-day beard me on mine."
"It is false," cried Obeidah, fiercely and aloud.
Amrou looked at the calif, who smiled ; and Obeidah, detect
ing the silent interchange of opinion between them, and foresee
ing the escape of his master and his own renewed punishment.

370 CALED AND OBEIDAH.

stamped his foot passionately upon the floor, and dashed his
clenched flst in a fury against his forehead.
" But where is Caled?" cried the calif.
" Behold him !" resumed Amrou, as tbe slender and beautiful
boy stood timidly shrinking in the farthest corner. " There is
Caled ; and, in that pale, girlish face, those trembling knees,
you read his character. He is a coward. A feminine refine
ment causes him to recoil from all intercourse with his mates.
He revenges no insult. He rises against no oppression. He has
not as much soul as a woman. In educating him I have had a
task exactly opposite to that devolved upon me by the charge of
Obeidah ; and, consequently, I have been forced to resort to dif
ferent means. The bully, who seizes each occasion of conflict, I
always restrain and punish for his brutal ferocity ; while this
faint-hearted youth I have striven to urge on by promises and
threats to the acts of a man and a soldier. Were these two boys
grown to maturity, 0 calif, and taken into thy employ, Caled
would cunningly become thy vizier, and Obeidah thy chief.
They are both without virtue, and both gifted with genius. Un
less I succeed in breaking down the natural vices of their cha
racter, both might win thy confidence, and neither would deserve
it. Obeidah wotild rebel against thee — Caled would betray thee.
The one would attack thee with thy own armies, and the other
assassinate thee with ihy own dagger."
"Allah acbar — God is good, I" said the calif.
"Thou art free, Amrou, and to reward thy wisdom and com
pensate thy fright, I decree thee each yenr a puvso of gold.
Hereafter I will guide my subjects, and leave thco to thy
scholars. We are both in the station for which heaven de
signed us."
Thn.-i snying, the .son of Abu Taleb departed ; and it is believed,
on authentic icstinmny, ih'.t the string, intended for the neck of
Amrou, found more appropriate employment on the backs of the
pale Caled ond the foaminw Obeidah.
******
Ten years had rolled away over the conquests of the Saracens,

CALED AND OBEIDAH. 371

and witnessed the rapid rise of that remote band of Arabians to
the dignity and power of a mighty nation. Already in the large
stars that kindled over Mecca, had the astrologers read the daz
zling career of their armies and their philosophers ; predicting to
those fervid sons of the desert, splendid victories in remote climes
and over remote nations — dominion over Persia, Syria, Egypt,
Africa, and Europe, and perhaps the mastery of the whole
globe. Their bright career, however, was not without shadows ; and
Aii heard with surprise, though without fear, that a powerful
Arabian chief, escaped from Medina to Mecca, and thence to
Bassora, had erected the standard of revolt and usurped the gov
ernment of Irak, or Assyria. Ayesha, the widow of the prophet,
who hated the family of Abu Taleb, accompanied their flight and
sustained their cause at the head of thirty thousand men. The
calif AH met thera beneath the walls of Bassora. Ayesha, who
had chosen her post amid the dangers of the field, urged on the
troops of the rebels. It is reported, that, of the faithful slaves
who held the bridle of her camel, seventy in succession were
killed or wounded, and her cage or litter "was struck with jave
lins and darts, like the quills of a porcupine." At length her
soldiers gave way before the tremendous cry erf the calif, "Allah
acbar!" God is victorious! and the field of the triumphant Aii
was occupied by no enemies except the captives and slain. The
widow of Mahnmet was treated with tenderness and dismissed
with honour, but death was doomed to tho commander of the
traitors. Ho was drag^eil, fierce, foan]ing, and stained with dust
and blood, before tho conqueror's throne ; and, in the desperate
chieftain of Medina, the monarch recognized Obeidah, the yet
unforgotten pupil of Amrou. The same Hosein who had then
stepped to the side of tbe pedagogue, now stood before the youth.
In one moment the fatal string was at his throat, and the next a
clod-like and senseless trunk was flung to the dogs, and a ghastly
head dripped over the most public gate of Bassora. This victory
is styled by the Moslem historians, the " day of the camel."
Many sanguinary contests ensued, in which the son of Abu

372

CALED AND OBEIDAH.

Taleb displayed the dignified superiority of a warrior and a states
man. But the disobedience of his soldiers often wrested from
his grasp the advantages of bis triumphs ; till one day in the
mosque at Cufa, a single form, kneeling to present a petition,
was suffered to approach him in a moment of privacy and solitude.
" Thou art Caled," cried Aii placing his hand upon his cimeter,
partly with an involuntary recollection of the prediction of Am
rou, and partly moved by tbe dark expression in the countenance
of his companion. But the action was too late. Age had stif
fened bis arm. Before tbe blade had left the scabbard, the pale
Caled had infiicted a mortal wound. The assassin would have
escaped, but for an accident which summoned the attendants.
" We will torture him," said one of the calif's sons, " for an
eternity !"
"No, no!" cried the expiring monarch, still benevolent in
death, "no torture. It is useless. It is unworthy. Let him
die, but at once, and by a single stroke."
He was obeyed. The terror and the existence of Caled ceased
in an instant. His head was thrown to the rabble at the gate.
Aii breathed his last at the same moment ; and Moawiyah, the
son of Abu Sophian, reigned in his stead.
The good calif was honoured with a tomb, a temple, and a
city, the ruins of which, to this day attract the feet of pilgrims
across the burning desert.

CHINESE COSTUMES.

P. 373.

CAPTURE OF CHUZAN.
I^f the afternoon of the 4th of July, I accompanied Captain
Fletcher, commander of his majesty's ship Wellesley, on board
the Chinese Admiral's junk, which we recognised by its more
numerous pennons and three tigers' heads painted on the stern.
Our orders were to summon the town and island to surrender
within six hours.
As we shoved alongside the Admiral's junk, they ran their
gangway guns out ; but before they could make any preparation
for resistance, (if they had intended it,) we jumped on board,
with our interpreter, and were surrounded by swarmS that
seemed to gather from every crevice of the vessel : and when it
was seen on shore that we were on board the junk, numbers
waded off from the town.
They showed not the slightest mark of hostility, but received
us with great civility ; informing us that the Admiral was on
shore, with the other great officers of the district, but they had
sent to apprize him of our arrival. During the visit, they
handed round tea; but not such tea as the ladies in England
would approve of, for the Chinese always drink it so weak that
tho water is barely tinged, and the leaves of tho plant form a
necessiiry pait of, the nauseous mixture. In the eourse of half
an hour the Chumpin and suite arrived : he was an old man, aud
bore in his face the marks of opium; ho wore a red button iu
his cap, and the other officers mounted blue and white, according
to their different grades, these being the distinguishing marks
of rank from the emperor downwards.
We opened the summons, and they read it in our presence,
and indeed before the assembled troop. The deep groans and
increasing pressure of the people warned us that we were amongst
32 (373)

374 THE CAPTURE OF CHUZAN.

a hostile multitude ; and from that moment I have ever doubted
the fiction, so industriously circulated throughout India, of the
hatred and dislike of the natives in China to their Tartar rulers,
for it appeared, as far as we had an opportunity of judging, tobe
without the slightest foundation. The summons addressed to the
people stated that no injury was intended to them, but it was
against their rulers and their servants we had come to make war
for their unjust acts. Of this they seemed perfectly aware;
but they hated the invading barbarians more bitterly than their
Tartar rulers; and their clenched hands and anxious faces proved
to us how false was the idea that we were come amongst a people
who only waited for the standard of the foreigner to throw off a
detested and tyrant yoke.
After some conversation, they agreed to accompany us to the
fiag-ship; and, upon our proposing to remain as hostages on
board their junk, they simultaneously refused, and begged we
would take a seat in their boat to the Wellesley.
All was here repeated to them, to the same end as what they
already knew ; and the reason and purport of our present hostile
movement on the place was explained. They complained of the
hardship of being made answerable for wrongs that we had re
ceived at Canton, and said naturally enough, " Those are the
people you should make war upon, and not upon us who never
injured you : we see your strength, and know that opposition will
be madness, but we must perform our duty, if we fall in so
doing." Sir Gordon Bremer entreated them to consider well before
they attempted to defend what they owned was impracticable :
they promised to do so, and he gave them until tho following
morning to confer and think over it. Their last words before
quitting the ship wore, "If you do not hear from us before sun
rise, the consequences be upon our own heads."
Whilst on board the vessel, they showed no marks of astonish
ment at her size or guns, except one man, whose fate I shall
afterwards mention, and refused to take any refreshments during

THE CAPTURE OF CHUZAN. 375

the conference, except some sweet wine, which they seemed to
be well acquainted with.
The dawn of day brought much the sarae spectacle as the pre
ceding, excepting that a few guns were mounted on the Jos-
house hill, and the mandarins were seen actively employed run
ning about along the wharf. Soon afterwards they were
remarked to take their different stands with the troops; one
among them, with his party in the martello tower, being parti
cularly conspicuous. The war-junks were drawn up and crowded
with men.
The British men-of-war were lying in line with their larboard
broadsides towards the town, at a distance of two hundred yards
from the wharf and foot of the hill. They consisted of the
Wellesley, 74 ; Conway and Alligator, 28 ; Cruiser and Alger
ine, 18; and ten gun-brigs. At eight o'clock, the signal was
hoisted to prepare for action ; still, however, time was given by
the Commodore, hoping to the last they would repent ; and it
was not until two o'clock that the troops left the transport in the
boats of the squadron, and took up their position in two lines in
rear of the men-of-war, to land under cover of the fire. At half
past two the Wellesley fired a gun at the Martello tower ; this was
immediately returned by the whole line of junks, and the guns
on the causeway and hill : then the shipping opened their broad
sides upon the town, and the crashing of timber, falling houses,
and groans of men resounded from the shore. The firing lasted
on our side for nine minutes ; but even after it had ceased, a
few shots were still heard from the unscathed junks.
When the smoke cleared away, a mass of ruins presented
itself to the eye ; and on the place lately alive with men, none
but a few wounded were to be seen ; but crowds were visible in
the distance flying in all directions. A few were distinguished
carrying the wounded from the junks into the town ; and our
friend the Chumpin was seen borne from his vessel by a faith
ful few, having lost his leg in the action by a round-shot. It is
as well here to mention that he was taken to Ningpo, a town
on the opposite island ; aud although honours were heaped upon

376 THE CAPTURE OF CHUZAN.

him for his gallant but unavailing defence, he survived but a few
days to wear them.
We had landed on a deserted beach ; a few dead bodies, bows
and arrows, broken spears and guns, remaining the sole occupants
of the field.
The men arriving from the boats, formed along the causeway
in line, and the Eighteenth advanced up the steps leading to the
temple on the hill. On reaching the summit, we distinguished
the inner town which had not been visible from the shipping ; it
was situated in a hollow in the rear of the mount, and the bird's-
eye view was very picturesque. On the walls were seen the
banners of the Chinese soldiery, whilst the men crowded along
the ramparts, beating their tontoms and gongs, beckoning us
with their hands to the attack, as the troops became visible to
them on the hill. They opened their wretched wall-pieces,
which, from their construction, can neither traverse nor be de
pressed, and which, being charged with a bad description of
powder, did no damage to the force.
In the course of two hours from the time of leaving the ships,
the Madras artillery had four guns in position, and fired a few
shells into the town ; the advanced picquets were posted ; and
the Chinese fired upon the reconnoitering, parties from the walls,
wherever they became visible. The evening began to close in ;
and the commanding officers were desired to seek covering for
the men, as Brigadier-General Burrell had determined not to
attack the town before the following morning. Until ten o' clock -
that night, the Chinese kept up a dropping fire, under cover of
which they afterwards appeared to have deserted the town.
During the evening, the civil magistrate and some of his offi
cers were killed by our shells ; and the Governor drowned him
self in a tank, when accused of cowardice by his people.
On board the Admiral's junk, to which we had borne the
summons, were found five wounded men, who had been unable to
make their escape with their comrades : the decks were covered
with clotted blood, and the Admiral's papers, bowls, and chop
sticks, were still in his cabin, where he had taken his last meal :

THE CAPTURE OF CHUZAN. 377

two of the men were dead, and upon two of the others some
-jnedical men of tbe fieet had already performed amputation : but
the fifth, a young Mandarin who had accompanied the Admiral
in the visit to the Wellesley, was writhing in agony; and seeing
the operation that the doctors had performed, he pointed to his
shattered limbs, and clasping his hands, implored them by signs
to do something for his relief; but it was too desperate a case,
and past all human remedy, so that in a few hours he breathed
bis last. This was the young man who had caused more inte
rest on board the flag-ship than any of the rest, from the
curiosity and frankness that he showed about every thing
" Cooknies of London, Muscadins of Paris,
Jast ponder what a glorious pastime war is."
And all this perpetrated under the plea of humanity ! To avoid
bloodshed, we are not to attack Canton, where we had been at
tacked, and more than once; so our soldiers are ordered to
Chuzan, to carry death and desolation amongst those who had
never come in contact with us.
Some particulars are given respecting the expedition of the
Kite :—
" The information gained in this expedition was of the most
valuable nature, should it be found necessary at any future
period to' operate at this point. Sixty miles of the course of
the Yeang-tse-kiang had been surveyed, and a passage found that
would permit a line-of-battle ship to enter ; and as far as Captain
Bethune could judge from the nature of the soundings, country,
and run of the river, there appeared nothing likely to stop a
vessel's course for many miles. Even if it should not be neces
sary to follow up the research, science will have received a most
interesting addition from the investigations of this indefatigable
and zealous officer. The description of some of the Chinese
forts hastily thrown up on the approach of the ships was ludi
crous : many consisting of bamboo mats, pierced, as if for guns
to astound the barbarians; for little did they imagine that
through the glasses from the ship this childish deception was
easily diseovered." 32*

378 THE CAPTURE OF CHUZAN.

Thus " should the treaty be broken off by some unlocked for
occurrence, or some Chinese political bigot be substituted in the
room of Kashen as commissioner, which is not altogether impos
sible, as he is looked upon by many of his countrymen as too
favourable to the foreigners, the indefatigable researches which
have been made by the squadron under the directions of his ex
cellency the commander-in-chief, and the knowledge thereby ob
tained of places hitherto unknown, must bring the contest to a
short and decisive determination. The occupation of the forts
of the Bocca Tigris, the blockade of the Yeang-tse Kiang, and
the cutting off all communication at the mouth of the Imperial
Canal, both at its northern and southern mouths, at Teen Sing
on the Peiho and on the Yeang-tse-Kiang, would cause such
starvation and misery through the northern provinces, that it would
at once paralyze all their efforts; and if it were necessary to bring
matters to a still speedier termination, a descent on their princi
pal towns along the coast, Canton, Nankin, Chapoo, Amoy, and
Teen-sing, would bring such awful destruction and havoc, that
the people themselves would rise against their government, aud
the whole empire would become one frightful scene of anarchy
and confusion ; for, not only are all these plans now known to
be practical, but by a cut, made either in tbe banks of the
Yeang-tse-Kiang, or of the Imperial Canal, the Chinese them
selves or their invaders might render the whole of the great pro
vince of Cheki'ang-ang, and the provinces far to the northward
one scene of deluge."
One of the objects at this place, that I had the curiosity to
visit, was the opium-smoker in his heaven ; and certainly it is a
most fearful sight, although perhaps not so degrading to the eye
as the drunkard from spirits, lowered to the level of the brute
and wallowing in his filth. The idiot smile and death-like stupor
however, of the opium debauchee, has something far more awful
to tbe gaze than the bestiality of the latter. Pity, if possible,
takes the place of other feelings, as we watch the faded cheek
and haggard look of the being abandoned to the power of the

THE CAPTURE OF CHUZAN. 379

drug; whilst disgust is uppermost at the sight of the human
creature levelled to the beast by intoxication.
One of the streets in the centre of the town is wholly devoted
to the shops for the sale of this poison ; and here in the evening
may be seen, after the labours of the day are over, crowds of
Chinese, who seek these places to satisfy their depraved appe
tites. The rooms where they sit and smoke are surrounded by
wooden couches, with places for the head to rest upon, and gene
rally a side-room is devoted to gambling. The pipe is a reed of
about an inch in diameter, and the aperture in the bowl for the
admission of the opium is not larger than a pin's head. The
drug is prepared from some kind of conserve, and a very small
portion is sufficient to charge it; one or two whiffs being the
utmost that can be inhaled from a single pipe ; and the smoke is
taken into the lungs as from the hookah in India. On a begin
ner, one or two pipes will have an effect ; but an old stager will
continue smoking for hours. At tbe head of each couch is
placed a small lamp, as fire must be held to the drug during the
process of inhaling ; and from the difficulty of filling and pro
perly lighting the pipe, there is generally a person who waits upon
the smoker to perform the office.
Afew days of this fearful luxury, when taken to exoess, will
give a pallid and haggard look to the face ; and a few months, or
even weeks, will change the strong and healthy man into a little
better than an idle skeleton. Tho pain they suffer when de
prived of the drug, after long habit, no language can explain ;
and it is only when to a certain degree under its influence that
their faculties are alive. In the houses devoted to their ruin,
these infatuated people may be seen at nine o'clock in the eve
ning in all the different stages; some entering half distracted to
feed the craving appetite they had been obliged to subdue during
the day ; others laughing and talking wildly under the effects
of a first pipe ; whilst the couches around are filled with their
different occupants, who lie languid with an idiot smile upon
their countenance, too much under the influence of the drug to

380

THE CAPTURE OF CHUZAN.

care for passing events, and fast emerging to the wished for con
summation. The last scene in this tragic play is generally a
room in the rear of the building; a species of dead house,
where lie stretched those who have passed into the state of bliss
the opium-smoker madly seeks — an emblem of the long sleep to
which he is blindly hurrying.

CHINESE JUNKS.

/^--.i'.-

'V
Vi.
, -si t<. ' '¦'
PERSIANS.
P. SSL
THE KING OF PERSIA'S FEMALE GUARDS.
Every one has heard, or every one may have heard, that his
Majesty, the King of Persia, has eight hundred wives, or ladies,
in his harem, and that every other man in the country has as
many as he can keep, and more than he*can manage. European
husbands, who have only one, and yet find it difficult enough at
times to be masters in tiicir own houses, can hardly imagine
the straits their eastern brethren in matrimony are sometimes
driven to by thus multiplying their domestic blessings. A man
can with little propriety, in this country, talk of his rib, or his
better half; he is the mere stem of a cluster of dates — a poor
dry stick, surrounded and weighed down with rich ripe fruit.
Yet he must endeavour to subdue the inveterate animosities of
interested rivals, and contrive to preserve some order amidst the
discordance of the divided wives of his bosom (peace and quiet
he never hopes for.) As this must absolutely be effected by his
own exertions, it being indecent even to name his wife or wives
to a neighbour, or to ask his advice or assistance under any cir
cumstances ; the science of managing one's own family has long
been the favourite pursuit and intricate study of the most learned
philosophers and able diplomatists. Many are the schemes, good
and bad, to effect this great purpose, which have been proposed,
adopted, and rejected in their turn. The last, and perhaps one
of the best, is that devised, and at present actually practised by
the Moolah Alaverdi, of the Ibrahim Mosque. It is concise,
simple, and, as far as it goes, tolerably efficacious ; but it is ex
tremely limited in its action. It consists in hanging up a small
whip, with a whistle attached, to the right hand door-post of the
ladies' apartment. When the venerable Moolah enters, he un
hooks his whip, and first gives a neat distinct whistle, which im-
(381)

382 TI,£ KING OF PERSIA'S FEMALE GUARDS

mediately assembles tbe ladies around him ; as the pipe of th?
shepherd collects together his dispersed fiock. He then lays the
whip smartly over the back of the first, or head wife, and con
tinues to apply a similar discipline to every one present, till each
has received her portion, strictly observing the regular order of
precedency and rank, and carefully avoiding all partiality, by
giving out his whole strength to each blow. He has hitherto
invariably found himself respected, loved, and obeyed at the
conclusion of the ceremony by his affectionate and dutiful spouses.
He now boasts of his method as infallible, asserts that his theory
is now confirmed and established by experiment, and that this is
the true and only way to manage a family. The Moolah, like
many other men, is the devoted bigot of his own system, and
blind to its imperfections as a general practice, or he must feel
conscious, as any impartial observer does, that it never could be
applied with any advantage in a large marriage establishment.
Taking his own word for it, I make no doubt that he has found
it perfectly successful in his own ; but the Moolah should recol
lect, that the discipline adequate to maintain order and regularity
in the house of a parish priest, whose whole inside (as we cor
rectly translate Haram Khonar) contains but four wives and
nine concubines, would prove totally insufficient for the extended
interior of a Khan, or Bey li Beggy. In the first instance, any
man, endowed with ordinary strength and facility of wrist, can
sufficiently illustrate the necessity of passive obedience to thir
teen wives in one quarter of an hour, allowing one minute to each,
and two for changing places. But — but to proceed from the foun
tain head, let us turn our eyes for an instant on the Brother of
the Sun, our most merciful King, first Cousin to the Moon, Light
of the World, and Glory of the Universe, and conceive his hav
ing to whip eight hundred wives daily. The thing is in itself
impossible. His majesty might neglect the most important of
the state affairs, might abstain from all amusement and recrea
tion, not even witness the bastinadoing of a Kahn, or the bow-
stringing of a single Mirza, exhausting his precious and celestial
powers in useless efforts, and not accomplish the work to his own

THE KING OF PERSIA'S FEMALE GUARDS. 383

satisfaction in the course of one sun. The very few eunuchs at
tached to the court, and their inability to afford any assistance
(except by good wishes,) would always leave the whole burthen
on his own illustrious shoulders, and convert his Sublime Majesty
into a mere currier of raw hides.
This weighty enterprise has been regulated and conducted in
a much more dignified and certain manner by his majesty's glo
rious progenitors, predecessors I would say, the crown here not
being exactly hereditary in descent; indeed, our present gracious
sovereign is the first of his race who has reigned by succession.
His worthy uncle, whose title he justly inherits, dethroned his
master, the then reigning tyrant (all dethroned kings are fools
or tyrants.) They have ever wielded the sceptre with paternal
solicitude, chastising their refractory subjects as a tender parent
corrects his disobedient child with the rod. Within the harem
is established a regular court, in exact imitation of the exterior
one, with officers of state, guards, attendants, &o., — she-duplicates
of all, excepting priests. As it always has been a very disputed
point, whether women have souls or not, it is deemed more pru
dent to leave that question undetermined. The establishment
of a female priesthood must be expensive, and without any cer
tain benefit, would tend to confirm them in their ambitious be
lief, that in the eyes of Providence they are equal to men ; yet
such is the affectionate lenity of these patriarchal rulers, that
each woman asserting herself possessed of a soul is permitted the
entire keeping and exercise of it for her own private advantage.
To these lady-ministers and generals, is entrusted the entire ad
ministration of all the interior affairs, the strictest precautions
being observed to exclude all communication with the exterior.
When his majesty intends to dispel the clouds of the harem by the
joy of his presence, he is conducted by his male guards to the
entrance of a certain crooked narrow passage, where they are
drawn up to present their parting homage. When the darkness
of night falls upon the eyes of the exteriors, by the setting of the
sun into the afore-mentioned crooked passage, he dawns forth re
splendent from the little door at the other end, to enliven with

384 THE KING OF PERSIA'S FEMALE GUARDS.

the radiance of his countenance the day of the interior. He is
there received by his attendant female goulams and ferashes, (or
cut-throats) who conduct him through the assembled ministers to
the nummud or carpet state, where he seats himself to admin
ister (first calling for his calcoon or pipe) impartial and severe
justice to his faithful female subjects.
One of these trials or courts-martial (for the offender, it seems,
was a military lady) has lately come to my own knowledge; how,
I need not explain. I was always inquisitive, and liked to have
a friend at court. As the proceedings are rather singular, and
in some measure illustrate the interior economy of the royal
household, they may not altogether be unacceptable to a Euro
pean reader. I shall therefore transcribe them, deferring to an
other occasion my further animadversions and objections to the
Moolah Alaverdi's plan, as entirely inapplicable to large insides.
I shall omit the Persian titles of Serang, Sultaun, &o., and
adopt, as near as may be, the corresponding terms in English,
as more intelligible.
The court being solemnly assembled, seated, and served with
pipes and coffee, the charges were brought forward and read aloud
by the secretary, Minnikin, with all the emphasis of nasal mono
tony of which the language is so peculiarly susceptible.
The indictment, or accusation, is against Ensign Chubby, of the
sweetmeat battalion, and is divided into three separate charges
of misdemeanour.
First, for most improper, indecent, disorderly behaviour in the
public bazaar; having wa,lked across the same without a veil,
contrary to all military discipline, and the strict decorum of de
portment absolutely imposed on all officers of the rank of Ensign
Chubby. Secondly, for unofficer and unlady-like conduct, totally sub
versive of all military discipline, in wantonly and cruelly wound
ing Corporal Dimple; and in using indelicate language to Major
Rosebud, of the laundry department; an officer of irreproachable
reputation, undeniable virtue, and mother of a large family by
a lawful husband, from whose viol3nt temper and ci-uel stick the

THE KING OF PERSIA'S FEMALE GUARDS. 385

Major had every thing to fear, had this slanderous imputation
reached his ears.
Upon the first charge, it was clearly proved, by the testimo
nies of Captain Sloe-e3'e and Beauty, confirmed by Serjeant Lan
guish, that on Thursday the Gth of last moon, at or about the
first hour, after calling mid-day prayers. Ensign Chubby walked
twice across the jewellers' bazaar, with a veil immodestly arranged
and only partially covering the faee with one corner of it ; two-
thirds of the nose, at least, and one eye of the said ensign, being
absolutely exposed to the public gaze. Moreover, that on turn
ing the corner, just by the shawl-mender's stall, leading to Has
san All Mirza' s, the said ensign stopped, and familiarly conversed,
full five minutes, with a he-serjeant of the Shegaughies, then
quartered in town, or passing through. The facts being clearly
proved, the guilt of the ensign was fully established.
Upon the second charge, the following facts were advanced,
and most distinctly proved by a number of reputable witnesses.
The respectable Major, whose superior knowledge and skill in all
kinds of needle work is undisputed and admired by the whole corps,
was kindly giving some instructions how to cut out six chemises
to the greatest advantage from a piece of Indian muslin, to Cor
poral Dimple, who had undertaken to make and embroider them
down the front, with the new Ispahaun pattern, for the lady Fa-
tima. Ensign Chubby entered the chamber, and commenced
conversation so as to bring a blush into the cheeks of every young
soldier present. The Ensign continued in the same strain for a
considerable period ; at the same time throwing on one side the
scissors ; wilfully burning a thread-paper of green silk ; at last,
heating the major's best chased silver thimble in the mangal,
and privately and maliciously replacing it at the moment that the
honest corporal looked out a superfine needle to back-stitch the
left-hand gusset of the second chemise. A horrid wound wag
infiicted upon the sewing finger of the unfortunate corporal ; the
celebrated Bandinjon cataplasm was speedily provided, and ap
plied by the active exertions of the party ; but unfortunately
without that happy success which so frequently attends the ope-
83

386 THE KING OF PERSIA'S FEMALE GUARDS.

ration of this far-famed remedy. The suffering object of this
diabolical joke remains yet incapable of duty, civil or military ;
and, in consequence, the lady Fatima is deprived of the advan
tages of clean linen. No f "iperior officer could witness such out
rageous conduct without giving a reprimand to the offender,
which, although couched in perfectly genteel and lady-like lan
guage, provoked a most flippant reply. Finally, that the slander
ous tongue of the aforesaid Ensign dared, in the presence of nu
merous witnesses, to contaminate the pure name of the virtuous
Major with an odious appellation.
Accordingly the court found the prisoner guilty on all and
each of the accusations; and, without hesitation, unanimously
declared their verdict ; Ensign Chubby, of the sweetmeat batta
lion, be degraded to the rank of a common soldier, and rendered
incapable of ever again bearing a commission.

A PERSIAN GENTLEMAN.

POLISH .TEWS.

THE POLISH JEAV.

During the war of 1813, when Bonaparte made that despe
rate attack upon his faithle.ss ally of Russia, the Saxon General,
S — , had gathered his troops in a deep and wooded defile, and
over the bivouac fire conversed with the guide who had offei-ed to
lead his troops to the surprise of a Russian outpost.
The day which was drawing to its close, had been gloomy and
lowering, yet was treacherously warm for the season, and little
indicated the approaching snow-storm which was to overwhelm
the conqueror, and check his hitherto irresistible course.
The form of General S — , as revealed by the lurid embers,
broad and muscular, braced in the tightened uniform of his
nation, and decorated with innumerable crosses and orders, con
trasted forcibly with the appearance of his companion, a Pi'li^h
(!287)

388 THE POLISH JEW.

Jew, slight of figure, and enveloped in the loose black gaberdine
of his race; his cheeks wan, sunken, and sallow, and against
each hung a spiral curl of sandy hair, depending from an upright
cap of black felt ; his eyes, keen and grey, were restless and in
quisitive, not unlike those of a famished cat who expects injury,
and is watchful to avert or avenge. He bent instinctively, as the
harsh tones of General S — 's voice smote upon his ear ; and his
glances fell before the penetrating regard of the military com
mander. This latter was, indeed, a man to be approached with awe by
every one who knew the sternness of his character. Brave to
desperation, vigilant and inflexible in discipline, the slightest
breach of military duty was punished with implacable rigour.
His men and officers respected but loved not their commander ;
yet no one dared provoke his anger, for so sure and fatal was his
aim, that every duel he fought cost the life of his antagonist.
"Jew!" said the General, in his severest tone, "you have
promised to conduct my troop by a secret path to the surprisal
of the enemy. If you bring us in safety through this labyrinth,
name your own reward ; gold or lands shall be yours for requital
of the service. But tremble, Hebrew, if you mean us falsely ;
for by the bones of my ancestors, and the honour of my sainted
mother, the slightest suspicion of treachery on your part, en
sures your certain death ; aye death with all its horrors; long,
lingering, fierce and cruel."
The guide made a low and shrinking obedience, but without
Bpeaking, as though fear denied him the power of utterance.
" Dog !" exclaimed the wrathful General, " dost hesitate ? —
dost tamper with my patience ? By heavens ! if you swear not
promptly to execute your mission discreetly and faithfully, life
is not yours an instant !"
The Jew looked up, aghast. His ashen complexion seeraed
intermingled with a leaden hue, as if convulsed by some internal
agony of remorse or fear; but habitual command of his passions
soon wrought its effect ; emotion passed away, and his features
resumed their wonted expression of anxious endurance. " By

THE POLISH JEW. 389

ehe beard of Aaron !" was at length his answer, " I have sworn
to bring you where your enemies are encamped ; wherefore are
you wroth with your servant, who means most righteously to
keep his oath."
The General r^arded him with awithering look: "No one
trusts a spy, even when employing him." He whispered, his aid-
de-camp, " Sternberg, keep your eye on that fellow ; I like not
his looks If you but suspect him of betraying us, on the instant
bring him before me." The subaltern touched his hat in sign of
obedience, and orders were soon after given for the troop to be in
motion. Their march was conducted with all possible silence and pre
caution, and for upwards of an hour proceeded in security and
hope. By degrees the way became more intricate, and entangled
with low underwood, or up-hill and miry, breaking their ranks
and scattering the men in confusion, whilst at intervals they had
to wade through patches of splashy ground, into which foot and
horse sunk knee-deep, and with difficulty toiled through, only
again to plunge deeper into some marsh.
Still these difficulties might be only on account of the un
trodden path it was necessary to pursue, and might forebode no
sinister intentions on the part of their guide. On, therefore,
they were commanded to struggle their weary way, encountering
fresh obstacles at every step. At length horses plunged in
swamps and fell exhausted; men groaned and died. By the
most strenuous efforts. General S — , his staff, and the remainder
of the troop attained an eminence, overlooking a wild and desert
plain. It was but the work of an instant, to despatch scouts to
reconnoitre, and seize and bring before the General the Polish
Jew guide. . Suspicion was indeed strong against this latter,
not only for bringing them through this morass, evidently with a
view to dishearten and discomfort the soldiers ; but twice during
the confusion had he endeavoured to escape ; and now, whether
overcome by fright or guilt, would do nothing but prostrate him
self on the ground, and exclaim, " Mercy, mercy !" Vain were
assuranses of safety, useless all interrogatories as to his knowl-

390 THE POLISH JEW.

edge of the road, or the proximity of the Russians , the same
shrill prayer for mercy, the same frantic cry of despair alone
uprose upon the stillness of the night.
During this paroxysm, the scouts returned, bringing with
them a peasant, who, by dint of threats and bribes, informed
them that the Russians, who were at least double their number,
were encamped within a mile of the place, and expecting the ar
rival of the Saxon detachment ; that the road they had traversed
conducted them through a slough to the enemy's camp, where,
if any survived, they could be easily dispatched before they had
obtained a firm footing, being previously worn out with the fa
tigues they must undergo on their march.
" By which road can we escape the snare into which we have
been led ?" demanded the General of the peasant.
"Easily enough;" was his reply. "You have only to de
scend on your right, and keep the beaten path, and you turn
your backs on the Russian forces."
" You shall go with us, friend, as a surety for the truth of
your direction ;" replied the General, " and I pray you," he
added significantly, " to remark how we punish a false guide."
He bent his mouth to Sternberg's ear, and glancing con
temptuously at the still crouching Jew, whispered his commands
in a few emphatic words. The aid-de-camp started ; but with
true military subordination, ventured not upon expostulation
with his superior. Touching his hat, he selected a dozen of the
pioneers, and with them descended the hill in the direction indi
cated by the peasant.
In a few seconds the sound of twelve sj^des might be heard
trenching the moist earth, surely and deeply. The sound smote
upon the stillness of the night, impressing silence and awe, and
conveying something of terrible import to every listener ; each
one looked at his comrade, as if he would demand whose grave
was digging, who was to be buried in that lone, wild spot 1
The harsh tones of the General broke upon this unnatural
qiiet : " Seize and bind yon howling spy, and cast him into the

THE POLISH JEW.

391

trench which is digging below ; then form into ranks, and every
man march over the traitor Jew's grave."
For a brief instant there was a pause of horror ; but ere the
General could look his displeasure, the fierce behest was fulfilled.
Yell after yell burst from the struggling wretch as he was hurried
down, which was shortly exchanged for stifled and smothered
cries, as the earth was heaped over the hapless victim of his own
duplicity and the General's savage revenge.
Anon the silence was only broken by deep, low groans, and at
intervals the short sharp word of command to march. The
heavy measured tramp of a thousand men soon pressed down
and obliterated the mound of earth which marked this deed of
horror, and as the General urged his recoiling steed over the spot,
he exclaimed, " So perish all spies and traitors !" forgetting
that he himself had bribed the Jew to an act of treachery.
However lightly the military commander might consider this
punishment, it is said that from that period he never slept more ;
and that in the lonely watches of the night, the pale visage of
the Polish Jew, distorted with agony, was his constant and hor
rible companion.

THE FOREST REDE OF A WEST INDIA PLANTER.
As we progressed at Mazeppa speed, the character of the eve
ning became more alarming, or — (and we shall best describe it
by the term) — awful. The tallest and toughest trees bent like
canes beneath the storm, and the lighter ones were uprooted alto
gether. On came the thunder closer and closer still, until it
burst directly overhead in one tremendous roar, which might
have been supposed to herald the dissolution of a world. On
the animal creation the effect was terrific. Birds, apparently
bewildered, flew here and there, uttering discordant screams ;
beasts, small and large, wild and domesticated, ran madly
through the forest ; innumerable monkeys mowed and chattered
from the crashing branches upon which they had perched them
selves ; the owls hooted, the vampire-bats shrieked hideously,
the serpents' hissings could be heard distinctly, and ho-wlings
and bellowings, and noises indescribably demoniac, left it doubt
ful whether the denizens of the lower world had not been indulged
on this dreadful night with an infernal saturnalia, and had
selected this forest for the nonce.
In the interval between tbe livid flashes that lighted up the
dense woods the darkness became deeper and more impenetrable.
Poor Jumbo appeared to have heard of the demoniac attempt
made upon the tail of Tam O'Shanter's mare, and in fear and
terror that an onslaught would be made upon himself, and his
own rear might thus undergo a fiendish visitation, he took to
strong running as a last security, and heedless of the murky
darkness, which by contrast seemed deeper and deeper after every
lightning flash, plunged forward as if he felt the foul fiend al
ready pulling at his tail. With difficulty I kept my seat — and
indeed a Rothscommon steeple chase-rider could do no more.
(392)

FOREST RIDE OF A WEST INDIA PLANTER 393

Jumbo was hard-mouthed in his unexcited moments, but to get
a pull at him as matters stood at present, would have been about
as practicable as to uproot a milestone with a pocket handkerchief
At last we cleared the wood, and falsified the proverb, for we
were not yet authorized to halloo. Trees, on a runaway horse,
are a tarnation nuisance in the dark, but a couple of swollen
rivers are also ugly experiments — and in my mind it is a toss-up
between wood and water after all.
Like the final crash of the overture to a fashionable melo
drama, the elements had husbanded their strength for a last
grand effort. The wind blew, not caring for bursting cheeks;
the thunder retained its concentrated force for a wind-up in a
parting volley, while half-a-dozen clouds, which had prudently
retained their aqueous treasures, showered them simultaneously
on the earth beneath. I never emulated or enacted a young
gentleman called Lochinvar, who
" Swam the Esk river wliere ford there was none j''
I never attempted the passage of the Dardanelles, like Lord
Byron ; but if crossing a couple of South Araerican rivers in high
flood, with the grand accompaniment of an elemental uproar, — if
these should entitle me to first honours in horsemanship, and na
tation, I hold myself equal to either Leander or Lochinvar, and
but for personal diffidence (a fault of mine) as good touching
performances as the twain united.
I reached my destination (the plantation,) and the kindness
of the overseer was only equalled by his astonishment. He first
inquired touching my sanity; presumed that my life was insured;
ordered a rum-bath, dry clothing, a hot supper, and punch that
would have scattered Father Mathew's sel&denial to smithereens;
and then I had such a sleep afterwards ! that was indeed, a wind
up to a night, which even
"A child might understand
The de'il had business on his hand."
A West Indian planter is always a man of feeling — and next

394 FOREST RIDE OF A WEST INDIA PLANTER.

morning (the storm having totally abated) Mr.  , my em.
ployer, sent two or three negroes to recover my corpse, were that
possible, and have my remains decently interred. Dear good
man ! he generously presented me with a couple of dollars on my
return, and hinted, that in half a dozen years perhaps he would
add some ten pounds to my salary, if the demand for sugar be
came brisker. That promise was not realized — for in six weeks
he was food for land-crabs. He died intestate — and being
Scotch, the claimants to represent him were a legion in number,
and extended, even to the third and fourth generation. Law pro
ceedings in property cases are conducted with caution — and Mr.
Sergeant Roundabout has given a decided and satisfactory
opinion, that the Theluston estates, and the assets of Mr. Mungo
Mactavish, will receive their final adjudication (the year not
specified) very probably upon the same day.

A NATIVE AUSTRALIAN.

P. 396.

AN EXPLORU^G ADVENTURE IN AUSTRALIA.
The Litany of a Bushman on the Borders might well run,
"From native dogs, from scabby sheep, from blacks, from
droughts, from governors' proclamations, good Lord, deliver us."
The droughts come in their appointed season, and the day will
be, when wells, and tanks and aqueducts will redeem many a part
from the curse of periodical barrenness ; the blacks soon tame
or fade before the white man's face ; unfortunately the seat of
the native dogs, and home-bred or town-bred governing crotchets
are more plentiful in long-settled than new-found countries. At
any rate I have experienced them all, and now give the following
passage of my life for the benefit of the gentlemen " who live
at home at ease," hatching theories for our good — Heaven help
their silliness !
I had been two years comfortably settled with a nice lot of
cattle and sheep, part my own, part on "thirds," when the peo
ple south of me began to complain of drought. I had enough
feed and water; the question was, whether it would last.
I called my bullock-driver, Bald-faced Dick, into consultation.
He was laid up at the time with a broken leg. Dick strongly
advised looking for a new station " to the nor' ard."
The sheep would do for months, but he thought we were over
stocked with cattle. I had a good deal of confidence in Dick's
judgment ; for he was a " first fieeter," that is, came over with
Governor Phillips in the first fleet; had seen every thing in the
colony, both good and bad; had, it was whispered, in early
years fled from a flogging-master, and lived, some said, with the
blacks ; others averred with a party of Gully-rakers, (cattle-
stealers) ; he swore horridly, was dangerous when he had drank
too much rum, but was a thorough Bushman ; by the stars, or
(395)

396 AN EXPLORING ADVENTURE.

by sun, and the fall of the land, could flnd his way any where by
day or night, understood all kinds of stock, and could make bul
locks understand him. He knew every roving character in the
colony, the quality of every station, and more about the far inte
rior than he chose to tell to every one. With all his coarseness, he
was generous and good-natured, and when well paid, and fairly
and strictly treated, stood upon " Bush honour," and could be
thoroughly depended on.
Having had an opportunity of serving him in a rather serious
matter previous to his entering my service, I was pretty sure of
his best advice.
The end of it was, for a promise of five pounds he obtained
from a friend of his a description of a country hitherto unsettled,
and first-rate for cattle. These men, who can neither read nor
write, have often a talent for description, which is astonishing.
Having heard a minute detail of the " pack," and studied a
sort of map drawn on the lid of a tea-chest with a burned stick,
I decided on exploring with my overseer, Jem Carden, and, if
successful, returning for the cattle and drags, all loaded for
founding a station.
We only took our guns and tomahawks, with tea, sugar, a salt
tongue, and small damper ready baked, being determined to
make long marches, starting early, camping at mid-day, and
marching again in the evening as long as it was light.
Our first stage was only twenty-five miles to young Mar-
son's cattle-station. Marson was a cadet, of a noble family, and
having been too fast at home and in India as a cavalry subaltern,
had been sent out with a fair capital to Australia, under the idea
that a fortune was to be had for asking, and no means of ex
pense open in the Bush. What money he did not leave in the
bars and billiard-rooms of Sidney, he invested in a herd of six
hundred cattle ; to look after these, he had four men, whom he
engaged, one because he eould fight, another because he could
sing, and all because they flattered him. With these fellows he
lived upon terms of -perfect equality, with a keg of rum oontin-

AN EXPLORING ADVENTURE. 397

ually on the tap. Then, for want of better society, he made his
hut the rendezvous of a tribe of tame blacks.
We found him sitting on the floor in a pair of trowsers and
ragged shirt, unwashed, uncombed, pale-faced and red-eyed, sur
rounded by a half-a-dozen black gins (his sultanas), a lot of
dogs, poultry, a tame kangaroo, and two of his men. The floor
was littered with quart pots, lumps of fat, and damper outside
the hut ; the relations of the black ladies had made a flre, and
were cooking a piece of a fine young heifer. What with the jab
bering of the gins, the singing and swearing of the men, and the
yelping of the dogs, it was no place for a quiet meal, so we only
stayed long enough to drink a pot of tea, so as not to offend, and
passed on to camp an hour under the shade of a thicket near the
river. Marson having, with the assistance of his black friends, con
sumed all his stock, has returned home : and, I hear, asserts
every where that Australia is not a country a gentleman can live in.
Our course next, after crossing the dividing range, lay over a
very flat country, all burned np as far as the eye could reach,
— a perfect desert of sand. The chain of pools which formed
the river after rain, were nearly choked up by the putrifying car
casses of cattle, smothered in fighting for water. The air was
poisonous ; the horses sank fetlock deep at every stride ; the
blazing sun was reflected back from the hot sand with an inten
sity that almost blinded our half-shut eyes. After three hours
of this misery, we struck into a better country, and soon after
came up to the camp of a squatter, who had been forced forward
by the drought. He had marked out about twenty miles along
the river for his run — a pretty good slice, I thought, when, before
turning back, he said, "That is all I want." It was no business
of ours, as we had views further a-field. For three days we
pushed on, making from thirty to forty miles a day, without see
ing any thing exactly to our mind. We rode over arid plains,
dotted with scrubby brushwood, then up precipitous hills ; now
leaping, now clambering down and up, and now riding aroynd te
avoid dry gullies and ravines ; passing occasionally breaks of
34

398 AIs EXPLORING ADVENTURE.

green pasture, but insufficiently watered for my purpose. Some
times our way lay along mountain sides, sometimes in the dry
bed of a torrent. Sometimes huge boulders interrupted our
course, sometimes the gigantic trunks of fallen trees. More
than once we had to steer through a forest of the monotonous
and shadeless gum, with its lofty, dazzlingly white trunks fes
tooned with the brown, curly bark of the previous year, and its
parasol-like but shadeless branches, where crimson, green, and
snowy parrot tribes shrieked and whistled among the evergreen
leaves. It is impossible to conceive any thing more gorgeous
than these birds as they fluttered in the sun ; but I confess that,
" on serious thoughts intent," during this journey, they were
more often associated with my ideas of supper than any thing
else. The evening of the third day, we found ourselves obliged to
camp down with a scanty supply of brackish water, and no signs
of any living thing. The next day was worse ; a land of silence
and desolation,, where it seemed as if mountains had been crum
bled up and scattered about in hills and lumps. The dry
earth cracked and yawned iu all directions. Failing to find
water, we camped down, parched, weary, silent, but not de
spairing. The next morning the horses were gone.
I cannot find words to describe what we suffered in the subse
quent twelve hours. I had walked until my feet were one mass
of blisters, and was ready to lie down and die ten times in the
day ; but somehow I found strength to walk, always chewing a
bullet. At length, at nightfall, we found our horses; and,
nearly at the same time, to crown our delight — water. At the
sight of this, we both involuntarily sank down on our knees to
return thanks for life saved.
The next morning, after a scanty breakfast, we set to work,
and by dint of cutting away with axe and jack-knife, at the ex
pense of clothes and skin, through a brigalow scrub for half a
mile, found our way into a gap through which our track lay,

AN EXPLORING ADVENTURE. 399

and which we had missed. It led straight to the dividing
range. After crossing five miles from the foot of the range, through
a barren tract, our eyes and hearts were suddenly rejoiced by th*
sight of the wished-for land.
A plain, covered with fine green barley-grass, as high as our
horses' heads, and sprinkled over with the myal shrub, which
cattle and sheep will eat and thrive on, even without grass. Such
was the delicious prospect before us. A flood had evidently but
lately subsided, for lagoons full of water were scattered all about;
a river running at the rate of five miles an hour, serpentined as
far as the eye could see, from which the waterfowl fluttered up
as we passed ; the eagle hawks were sweeping along after the
flocks of quail, and mobs of kangaroos hopping about like huge
rabbits. There was not a sign of born or hoof any where, but it
was evident that the aborigines were numerous, for there were
paths worn down where they had been in the habit of travelling,
from one angle of the river to another ; we could trace their
footmarks and of all sizes, and thereupon we unslung our guns
and looked at the priming. Altogether I thought I had disco
vered the finest place for a cattle-station in the colony ; I found
out afterwards that the first appearance of a new country before
it has been stocked is not to be depended on.
We formed a camp in an angle of the river, so as to have
protection on three sides, ventured, in spite of the danger, to
light a fire and cook some game. Oh, how delicious was that
meal ! As I lay near the river's edge, peeping through the tall
grass, I saw the horrid emus, that rare and soon to be extinct
bird, come down the slopes on the opposite side to drink in num
bers ; a sure sign that white men were as yet strangers to these
plains. We spent some days in examination, and during the explora
tion met with adventures with the aborigines, I will not now re
late. Having marked a station with my initial, and in returning
made out a route practicable for drays, by which I afterwards

400 AN EXPLORING ADVENTURE.

made my way with a large herd of cattle, although not without
enduring more than I could tell in a few lines.
Our horses having picked up their flesh in a fortnight's spell
on the green plains, we got back at a rattling pace, but, before
arriving home, met with an adventure I shall not soon forget.
It was at the first station we reached after crossing the " barrens"
that divided our newly discovered country. A hut had just
been built for the Stockman, a big strong Irishman, more than
six feet high, a regular specimen of a Tipperary chicken. He
had been entertaining us with characteristic hospitality ; and we
were smoking our pipes round the fire, when the hut keeper
rushed in without his hat, crying :
" Tom ! Tom ! the blacks are coming down on us all armed,
as hard as they can run. Shut the door ! for Heaven's sake
shut the door !" Tom banged it to, and put his shoulder
against it while the keeper was pulling up the bar, and Carden
and I were getting the look- cases off our fire-arms. Unfortu
nately the door was made roughly of green wood, and had
shrunk, leaving gaps between the slabs.
In the mean time about thirty blacks hurled a volley of spears
that made the walls ring again ; and then advancing boldly up, one
of them thrust a double-jagged spear through the door, slap into
Tom's throat. My back was turned towards him, being busy
putting a fresh cap on my carbine. I heard his cry, and, turning
saw him fall into the arms of the hut-keeper. I thrust the bar
rel of my piece through a hole against a black devil, and fired
at the same moment that my man did. The two dropped; the
rest retreated, but turned back, and caught up their dead friends.
Carden flung open the door again, and gave them the contents of
his other barrel. My black put the hut-keeper's musket into my
hand ; I gave them a charge of buckshot. Three more fell, and
the rest, dropping their friends, disappeared across the river. All
this was the work of a moment. We then turned our attention to
the stock-keeper. The spear had entered at the chin, and eome
out on the other side three or four inches. There was not a
great flow of blood, but he was evidently bleeding inwardly.

AN EXPLORING ADVENTURE.

401

He was perfectly collected, and said he was quite sure he should
die. We cut the end of the spear short off, but did not dare to
take it out. The hut-keeper got on a horse, leading another,
and rode for a doctor who lived one hundred and fifty miles off;
he never stopped except to give the horses a feed two or three
times in the whole distance, but when he reached his journey's
end, the doctor was out. In the mean time poor Tom made his
will, disposing of a few head of cattle, mare and foal, and also
signed a sort of a dying testament to the effect that he had
never wronged any of the blacks in any way. The weather was
very hot, mortification came on, and he died in agony two days
after receiving his wound.
The outrage was reported to the Commissioner, but no notice
was taken of it although we were paying a tax for Border
Police at the time.
Not many years have elapsed since we fought for our lives —
since I read the burial service over the poor murdered Stock
man. A handsome verandah'd villa now stands in the place of
the slab hut; yellow corn waves over the Irishman's grave, and
while cattle and sheep abound, as well as white men, women,
and children there is not a wild black within two hundred
miles.

34*

CHRISTMAS IN SWEDEN.
In a letter to a friend in England,
The characteristics of Sweden and its people are not so gene
rally known as those of more favoured regions of the world. It
is common for tourists to visit almost every part of Europe
except Scandinavia; and those who do go to the Swedish capital,
Stockholm, seldom extend their observations much further. Yet
the distinguishing traits of the Swedes cannot be fully known
without a visit to those portions of the country where foreign in
fluence is not exerted. Among the peasantry, the manners, cus
toms, and traditions of the nation are distinctively preserved. In
Stockholm, there are many who delight to keep up old customs,
especially those relating to festivals, but the number diminishes
as the intercourse of the inhabitants of other countries increases.
A noted literary lady, writing from Stockholm to a friend in
England, gives a very interesting account of the celebration
of Christmas in that city, which we think worthy of quota
tion : —
" But I must now conduct you into my home, my humble home ;
but still there is to be found there the best which can be found
under the sun, from the juice of the grape, and silk, and gilding
— but all in the right proportion to my ability, my position in
life, and my requirings, which I do nfft allow to go swarming about
after pleasure, but put them early under a queen-bee's guid
ance. " ' He is always satisfied with himself and what belongs to
him;' you may, perhaps, dear brother, somewhat calumniously
remark. We have a great festival to-day, you must know, and
it raay possibly so happen that the smell of candles and 
(402)

CHRISTMAS IN SWEDEN. 405

now, also, there is an abominable smell of sealing-wax ! That is
because my wife is packing up and sealing Christmas boxes !
The smell of tarts and roast meat, and the rejoicing of children,
get rather into my head. It is Christmas eve, dear brother, a
day which, through the whole of Sweden, is celebrated in castle
and cottage with gifts given and received ; with the best that
people have of this world's wealth. For a month past one has
seen that the festival was coming by the increase of life and bus
tle over the whole country, as if the whole country got itself
ready for a feast. In the capital it seems as if a population of
80,000 souls had, all at once, increased to 100,000, and as if the
bodies of all their souls had no more rest within the house.
People drive, people walk, or rather people trudge up and down,
from morning till night. People meet, people cross, people jostle
one another in the crowds, in streets and lanes. At the turning
on each hand one hears the words, ' Your most humble servant !'
And in the Great West street in particular, people are in peril
of their life — if they are poor foot passengers, like me. In the
shops the ladies elbow one another, under the pleasant pretence
of desiring to see this and that; examine, consider, turn over and
over, ask questions, chatter, cheapen, and finally open their pock
et-books and put in the bill ; and then, without any impropriety,
go out with their parcels, be they large or small, oblong or four-
cornered, wrapped up with ingenuity in waste paper, and tied
with pack-thread. The ladies, in their elegant pelisses, float to
their elegant carriages, attended to the door by the gentlemen of
the shops, who ask, with low bows, " Shall I send them home ?
— shall I add them to the account ?' A nod, or gracious ' be so
kind !' the window is pulled up, the whip cracks — the bills swell
out! 500 rix-dollars for fine dresses; 1000 for gold and silver
stuffs ; 2000 for fine wines. Such purchases make they, the
powerful money potentates, and then drive home to scold about
a few pence and grumble over the dear times. ' Two farthings'
worth of gingerbread !' demands little Janne, in his ragged coat,
and with his nose-end red with the cold, standing before the para
dise of the huckster's stall, gets called little friend by its red-

406 CHRISTMAS IN SWEDEN.

breasted cherub, receives two brown hearts, pays his money con
tentedly, goes his way as happy as a  prince? No, because
a prince has too much to be happy with so little — but as a little,
poor, good-hearted lad, who is as proud as can be to bid his little
sister to a feast.
" In the great market-place, booth after booth is opened in long
rows, each one filled with bread, books, stuffs of all kinds, con-
fectionaries, and with — every thing in the world. It is the
Christmas-market. And all the world — in Stockholm — goes to
the Christmas-market to make purchases and to look about. Be
hind all this visible movement there is another movement in
operation which is invisible. There are at this time in Stock
holm, tailors, seamstresses, shoemakers, carriage-builders, furriers,
lace-weavers, glovers, in a word, makers and workers of every
kind, who are not so lucky as to deceive more than twenty times
in the day with their ' it shall be ready this evening !' ' in the
morning !' ' by the end of the week !' ' the very first of all !'
which means the very last.
" Thus it goes on in the month of December in the capital, and
thus, no doubt, down to the very least of Swedish towns. In
the country it is fresh life. Every mistress of a house steeps the
fish, makes candles, and stuffs puddings. Every maid-servant is
over head in business. All heads and all hands are busy for
Christmas. All men and all domestic animals will be fed plen
tifully; even sparrows will sing of Christmas on their appointed
sheaf of oats ; and human sparrows — the beggars, — will be abun
dantly fed from rich men's tables. The earth experiences the
truth of the Lord's words, ' it is more blessed to give than to
receive.' " At this time there is an end of all candour and confidence in
the family. Husbands and wives, parents, children, brothers
and sisters, relations and friends, all conceal themselves from one
another, all have secrets from one another, all have something
to hide or withdraw from each other's sight. And an observer
might think that such things testified but indifferently for the

CHRISTMAS IN SWEDEN. 407

happiness of Swedish homes if the mirror of the soul, the eye,
was not in the meantime become more loving and friendly than
ever. But with roguish gravity, and repressed breath, the spirit
of secrecy goes about sealing all lips until — all at once — as if by
a magic stroke — amid the darkest night of the year, millions of
lights are kindled, and, like a festive board, stands on the twen
ty-fourth of December, the whole kingdom of Sweden, from Lap-
mark down to Skene, and millions of voices exclaim the while,
it is Christmas! it is Christmas !
" The genius of equality never reigned thus absolutely in the
old states of the republic, as this evening throughout Sweden.
A groat-ladle is the sceptre in his hand. The odour of sweet
groats prevails over the whole kingdom, and in its atmosphere
breathe all, in a brotherly concord, high and low, great and
small. Christmas-candles burn in castle and cottage. Such is
Christmas-eve. But the light whioh is thus kindled extends
much farther; and, like a circling wheel, — pleasure follows
pleasure for a long succession of days. There is dancing
in cities, in towns, in hamlets. People drive, people feast,
people play, and amid the sportive hours a more gladsome
turn is often given to serious life. Many a grudge; much ill-
will disappears amid the ' borrowed fire,' and Spirit, dost not
observe something ? Many a happy bond is knit for life amid
blind-man's-buff and ' hide-the-ring — hide the ring, show it to no
one !' And so people go on till the twentieth day of Christmas,
which is also called Knot, and which puts one upon the thread
of Christmas pleasures. Christmas ends then ; and on this eve
ning, conformably with old Swedish custom, Christmas is danced
out. "In the midst of this garland of sports and pleasures occurs the
great festival of the Church, full of solemnity and light. On this
occasion the churches are filled with people. The true religion
of God is the friend of joy and animation. Therefore we rejoice
at Christmas.
"And now again is this festival come, and every where people
think about giving pleasure to themselves, and, what is better,

408 CHRISTMAS IN SWEDEN.

of giving pleasure to others. Oh ! what delight I had in child
hood for raany weeks before Christmas, in thinking upon the
Christmas-boxes with which I should surprise my parents, and
brothers and sisters. I remember, in particular, a sketch, a
landscape of my own composition, with which I designed to asto
nish and delight my father. I awoke every morning with this
in my mind. It was a very ambitious work. Every thing was
there ; the Alps, the Mediterranean Sea ; sun-rise ; a vessel
under sail; a Roman aqueduct in ruins; a rushing mountain
torrent, beside which sat a shepherd, playing on his flute to his
flock, (a union of tbe sublime and the beautiful !) two travelling
gentlemen, (the one was to represent my father) who from a path
down the Alps, observed all this, and were enraptured. The joy
of the artist, — the child's love; the child's, or rather human na
ture's — self-love united to make my heart beat with the thought
of the evening on which this sublime composition should be ex
hibited to the light, be admired by my father and the whole
family, perhaps even by the provost and burgomaster; and — who
knows ? — ^.perhaps the fame of it might go over the whole city.
I did not remark until the picture was finished, that the Mediter
ranean chanced to lie above the aqueduct ; that the ship could
not avoid striking against the sun ; that the Alps looked like
confectionary, and my father like a highwayman. My good
father had not the heart to enlighten me on this subject, so that
although my masterpiece did not, by any means, cause the rap
ture whioh I expected, yet I remained for this time unpunished
for my presumption. But ah ! I fear that the hour of retribution
is come; that ray first-born son inherits my artistical talent, and
designs to prepare for me a surprise like that which I, once upon
a time, prepared for my father. I have seen something horribly
shining forth from his drawing-board, and which, as I came
nearer, was concealed with mighty haste. I wish, that when my
hour comes, I may restrain myself as well as my deceased father
did. We have now, for several days, been so full of mysteries
one with another, and have attempted to hide in all corners with

CHRISTMAS IN SWEDEN. 409

our intrigues, that I am quite weary of it, and long for the
Christmas-goat, which will explain all. And anon, his hour will
be come. The clock strikes seven ; I hear the voice of my wife,
which orders tea and saffron cakes, ' and lights in the par
lour.' Now beat the hearts of the children, and — I almost
think — mine also ! I leave you, and will continue my letter to
morrow " Christmas-day.
You should have seen them, my four children, dancing round
the Christmas-tree, which hung full of apples, gingerbread, and
other gimcracks ; you should have seen them in the light of the
Christmas candles, beaming with joy, skipping, singing, laughing
in unrestrained life enjoyment, and you would not have wondered
that I, absorbed by the observation of the joyous picture, did not
remark that the contents of my tea-cup which I poured into the
saucer ran over, until I perceived something warm at my side,
and to my horror, saw a gray pool upon the red worsted damask
of the sofa. I immediately wiped it up, fortunately unobserved
by my wife ; but many will be the wonderings as to how and
when that stain came upon it !
"And now we were all assembled; my wife — an excellent wife,
I assure you, but almost too great a hater of stains upon furni
ture — my wife, my wife's husband, two young relations, tbe
Student N., and Mamsell Mina, and my four children. We
drank tea and dipped in great slices of saffron-bread. We ought
to have talked and made-believe that nothing was going to hap
pen. But it would not do. The state of the weather was at
tempted. I thought we should have snow. The Student,
that we should have thaw ; my wife's idea was, that we should
soon have winter ; mine, that we had winter already ; Mamsell
Mina's that we should have an early spring, and so on. In the
meantime, the children began to cast expressive glances one at
another, and then quickly I saw my eldest daughter, with diplo
matic address, steal out of the room, and then the rest, one after
another. Nobody observed it — Heaven forbid! but my wife
35

CHRISTMAS IN SWEDEN. 410

smiled, and so did I. In a little while the children again entered,
and now, in solemn procession, the eldest first, tbe youngest
last. " My eldest daughter, a twelve-year old, and very patriotic girl,
stepped forward towards me with a waistcoat in her hand, which
she herself had worked for me, and which blazed with the colours
of the Swedish fiag — ^yellow and blue ; both waistcoat and girl I
clasped tenderly to my heart. My first-born son, a promising
youth of thirteen, presented at the same time to his mother, with
some pride, a colossal long-legged foot-stool, which, with a cer
tain fear and circumspection, she received into her hands, utter
ing a joyous exclamation of applause at this, his first masterpiece
of carpentry. After this he approached me, and, with a certain
degree of horror, I saw a great paper in his hand. 'Now it
comes !' thought I. I saw, in spirit, the Alps, the Mediterra
nean Sea, the Sun, myself — ^myself, even ! — but the gentle stars
be thanked ! it was better than I expected ; for, as with terror I
took the paper into my hands, I saw no Alps, only a pair of hu
man heads, which seemed to be goring one another — although it
was meant to represent kissing — yet, still, the whole thing was
so human, that I could with great truth answer my wife's some
what uneasily questioning glances by — 'Ay, ay ! look here, now.
At his age I could hardly have done better myself !'
" My six-years-old Willie, a little quiet lad, given to looking
after relics, and who must be designed for an antiquary — I had
a presentiment regarding the Christmas gift which with some
importance, he presented to his mother. This was a collection
of remarkable things whieh he had found — crooked pins, broken-
pointed needles, headless nails, glittering grains of sand, little
pieces of gilding, a possible piece of money, and such-like curio
sities, which caused us to burst into a hearty laugh. This em
barrassed the little collector, and filled his eyes with tears, which
we immediately kissed away, and assumed that demeanour of re
spect with which one regards relics from Herculaneum. And as
among these treasures we discovered an old Northern coin of real
value, then were my little fellow and I proud and glad. Bertha,

CHRISTMAS IN SWEDEN. 411

my little darling — she, with her own small dear fingers, had
made her first essay at hemming, on a pocket-handkerchief,
which father and mother were to use alternately, or in company.
The two young relations also came forth modestly with their
presents. The student, with verses which he dedicated to my
wife and me, in whioh ' the strength of the North ' was spoken
of, Ygdrasiland Ragnorak, and again 'the strength of the North.'
Mamsell Mina presented us with an especially beautiful piece of
work, for which, with crimsoning cheeks, she received our
thanks. " Whilst we — my wife and I — were more closely examining
our Christmas-gifts by the light, turning them in every direction,
and finding them all remarkable, there suddenly was heard a
thundering noise at the door. Great sensation ! especially
among the younger part of the company. Immediately after
wards the door opened, and there entered a beast which might
have put to flight all the wild beasts of Africa, but which saluted
with great good-will the small community in the room. This
was the Christmas-goat, with great horns, with wild shaggy eye
brows, and many characteristics of the monster : behind him
came a young servant-maid with a baking trough full of Christ
mas-boxes. And immediately was the room bombarded with
these. They rolled about, and flew here and there, and after
them the four children, amid a tumult of delight. A terrible
tumult was this. The long legs of my first-born occasioned a
dreadful convulsion among chairs and tables, and as I feared,
even upon his own masterpiece of carpentry. Amid the
universal tumult, I happened to see my wife wrap some
thing up in her shawl ; it seemed to me to be the ruins of
the colossal footstool, and I fancied that three legs were
missing. " Every seven or ten minutes the Christmas goat made a vol
canic movement, upon which many little packets were flung up
into the air. At one time a half-anker, and then a half-cask,
was rolled in ; and all these had to be brought to the light, and
there, in presence of all, their inscriptions read, which contained

412 CHRISTMAS IN SWEDEN.

many odd and signiflcant puns, jeu d^esprits, which were duly in
terpreted. In various of the verses I perceived the young
genius of the student; and in many of the jokes the merry
humour of Mina. Two hours were spent amid frolics of this
kind, and the peals of laughter which they excited. At the
end of that time the young student stood in a new black suit,
and, striking his hand upon his breast, declaimed, I know not
what sort of tragic-comic oration, before Mamsell Mina, and
she, almost killing herself with laughter, attempted to answer
him in the same spirit. My first-born made entrechats on en
trechats around a library of ten volumes; my eldest daughter
danced before ber new hat ; Willie beat a drum ; and little
Bertha embraced a cat of pasteboard, and gave it the most
loving of pet names. That was a. confusion, but it was a confu
sion whioh did the heart good. All the young ones found
their wishes gratified : and each and all had therein his sugar
plum to suck at a future time.
" And now we had to eat, and after that to sleep ; both of
which were difficult for the children, who now could see
nothing, could occupy theraselves with nothing, but their
Christmas-boxes. Each one took his most precious gift to
the table. Little Bertha's cat must go with her to bed.
Every one longed for the morrow, that he might the better
examine his splendid treasures. Whilst they lay and talked
of these slumber came and kissed the words from their lips.
They now lie and sleep. Joyous evening ! God be praised for
thee, and that thou comest and lightest up a portion of our
long dark winter with a ray of that light which once, in the
darkness of the world, was kindled at the cradle of a child.
Beautiful, also, is the old Swedish custom of allowing all child
ren to celebrate the birth of the Child of God. I have been a
child, and have wept, and laughed, and wept again, like all my
little April-mooded compeers, quickly forgetting the occasion both
of smiles and tears. I have become a man, and have experi
enced the sorrows of life, and the pleasures of the world ; they
are now only as a dimmed memory; but like a newly kindled

CHRISTMAS IN SWEDEN.

413

light — like a clear, crackling winter's fire — flames up before my
mind the delights of Christmas-evening in my childhood.
Many a pleasure, many a breeze of spring, many a bright
beam of autumn sunshine, may still cheer the aged; but the
joy of Christmas-eve, that indescribable, unmixed, innocently-
intoxicating delight, experiences he never more ! Yet he still
can enjoy it, in the gladness of children — his own, or—
others !

35*

BUDDHIST PRIEST OF CEYLON.

A PEEP AT THE " PERAHARRA."

Op the religious festivals of the Buddhists of Ceylon, that known
as the Peraharra is the most important. It is observed at Kandy,
tbe capital of the ancient kings of Ceylon, and at Ratnapoora,
the chief town of the Safii-agam district. Few good Buddhists
will be absent from these religious observances ; and whole fami
lies may be seen journeying on foot for many miles, over moun
tains, through dense jungles and unwholesome swamps, across
rapid and dangerous streams, along hot sandy pathways, loaded
with their pittance of food and the more bulky presents of fruit,
(414)

A PEEP AT THE PERAHARRA. 415

rice, oil, and flowers, to lay at the foot of the holy shrine of
Buddha, to be eventually devoured by the insatiable priests.
In the month of July, 1840, I had a peep at the celebrated
Peraharra of Ratnapoora, where the shrine sacred to the memory
of Saman rivals in attraction the great Dalada Maligawa of
Kandy. Like its mountain competitor, it has its relic of Buddha
enshrined in a richly -jeweled casket, which is raade an object of
especial veneration to the votaries of that god. Saman was the
brother of the famed Ra-ma, tbe Malabar conqueror who invaded
Ceylon in ages long past, and extirpated from its flowery shores
the race of mighty giants who had held its people in subjection
for many centuries — a sort of Oriental King Arthur. To Saman
was given the district of Saffragani ; and the people of that coun
try at his death, promoted him to the dignity of a deity, as a
slight token of their regard.
The Ratnapoora festival is the more attractive by reason of its
being made the occasion of a large traffic in precious stones, with
which tho neighbourhood abounds. In this way the great part
of the Buddhists manage to combine comraerce with devotion.
The road to the Saffragam district was, in the time at which I
travelled it, a very barbarous and dangerous affair, differing widely
from the excellent traces which existed through most of the
maritime provinces of Ceylon. It was then, in fact, little more
than a mere bullock-track, or bridle-path, with no bridges to aid
in crossing the streams which intersect it. The journey from
Colombo to Ratnapoora may now be easily performed in one day:
at that time it required a good nag and careful diligence to accom
plish it in two.
Day dawned as I got clear of the Pettah, or Black Town of
Colombo, and crossed a small stream which led me to the jun
gle, or village road, I was to follow. In England, we should call
such a muddy lane; but here one knows little between the good
high roads and the bnlloclt track. Strange as it may sound to
home travellers, one is often glad to see the sun rise, and feel it
warm the heavy, damp air in the tropics. Before me lay a long
straggling line of low jungle, indicating the road ; far away in

416 A PEEP AT THE PERAHARRA.

the distance rose the high, bluff bill and rocks towering over the
once royal domain of Avishawella, Around, on every side, was
water, completely hiding the fields from view, and only allowing
a bush, or a tree, or a hut-top, to be seen peeping up through
the aqueous vail, dotting the wide expanse like daisies in a field.
The rains had flooded the whole of the low country, which, inun
dated by many mountain torrents, could not discharge the mass
of streams nearly so fast as it received them. Over and across all
this watery wilderness huge masses of misty vapour came rolling
and turabling along, as though shrouding some Titanic water-
sprites who had been keeping it up rather late the night before,
and were not quite sure of the way home. One might have
imagined, indeed, that it was some universal washing-day, and
that the great lid of the national copper had just been lifted up.
As the sun rose above the line of black rocks in the distance,
its rays lit up those misty monsters of the flood, imparting to
them life-like tints, which gave them beauty, and forms they had
not known before. As these sun-lit fogs rolled on, a thousand
shapes moved fitfully araong them ; troops of wild horsemen ;
crystal palaces with gilded gates ; grim figures playing at bo-
peep ; hills, towns, and castles ; with many a ship at sea, and
lovely cottages in quiet, sunny glades; all these, and more,
seemed there. With the sea-breeze, all that array of cloudy
creatures departed, leaving the air hot and stifling from the re
flection of the sun's rays in the endless flood above me. But
where were the poor Singalese villagers, their families, and their
goods, amidst all this wreck? As I jogged along, the cry of a
child, the crowing of a cock, the bark of a dog, floated across the
ocean of mist, but whence came they ? I looked to the right
and to the left. I strained my eyes straightforward, but not a
soul, or a feather, or a snout was to be seen. Presently the fog
cleared away, and I could see overhead into the trees. There,
chairs, tables, chattels, paddy-pounders, boxes of clothes, children
in cots, men, women, cats, dogs, all were there in one strange
medley, curiously ensconced among the wide-spreading branches
of the trees. Over their heads, and on each side, mats and

A PEEP AT THE PERAHARRA. 417

cocoa-nut leaves were hung to keep off rain and damp fogs, while
against each side of the tree was placed a thick notched stick,
which served as a ladder for the whole party. Here and there
canoes were to be seen paddled across the flelds to keep up com
munication between the different villages. It was a strange but
desolate spectacle, and I was glad to find myself, at last, free
from the watery neighbourhood, and once more riding on terra
firma. During the heat of the next day I turned aside to a shady
green lane. A mile along this quiet pathway, I was tempted to
rest myself at the mouth of a dark-looking cave, by the side of
a running stream of beautiful water. Tying my pony to a bush
I entered at the low archway, and found myself at once in utter
darkness ; but after a short time I began to distinguish objects,
and then saw, close to me, one whom I should have least looked
for in that strange desolate spot. It was a Chinese, tail and all.
My first idea was, as I looked at the figure through the dim light
of the cave, that it was nothing more than a large china jar, or,
perhaps a huge tea-chest, left there by some traveller ; but, when
the great round face relaxed into a grin, and the little pea-like
eyes winked, and the tail moved, and the thick lips uttered bro
ken English, I took a proper view of the matter, and wished my
cavern acquaintance "good-morning." I soon gathered the occu
pation of See Chee in this strange place ; the cave we were then
in was one of the many in that neighbourhood, in which a par
ticular kind of swallow builds the edible nests so highly prized
by the Chinese and Japanese for conversion into soups, stews,
and, for aught we know, into tarts. The Chinaman told me,
what I was scarcely prepared to learn, that he rented from the
Ceylon government the privilege to seek these birds' nests in
this district, for which he paid the yearly sum of one hundred
dollars or seven pounds, ten shillings. Procuring a chule, or
native torch, the Chinese nest-hunter showed me long ledges of
shelving rock at the top of the cavern, whereon whole legions of
curious little gummy-like excrescences were suspended; some
were perfect nests, others were in eourss of formation, and these

418 A PEEP AT THE PERAHARRA.

latter I learned were the most valued ; those which had had the
young birds reared in them being indifferently thought of, and
were only bought by the lower orders of soup-makers. Having
rested myself and pony, I once more pushed on for Ratnapoora,
where I arrived, heated, jaded, and dusty, by high noon.
A chattie bath seldom fails to refresh the Indian traveller, and
fit him for the enjoyment of his meal. In the cool of the even
ing I strolled out to watch the preparations for the nightly fes
tivities. These continue for about a fortnight, chiefly after sun
set, though devotees may be seen laying their simple offerings at
the foot of the shrine, during most part of the afternoon. The
little bazaar of the town was alive with business ; all vestiges of
its wonted filth and wretchedness were hidden beneath long strips
of white linen, and garlands of cocoa-nut leaves and flowers hung
round by bands of bright red cloth. Piles of tempting wares
were there; beads, bangles, and scarfs to decorate; rice, jaggery
and sweetmeats to eat, and innumerable liquors to drink, were
placed in profuse array. The streets and lanes poured forth long
strings of human beings, heated with the sun, flushed with drink,
and bedizened with trumpery jewelry, and mock finery. Poor
tillers of the soil; beggarly fishermen; mendicant cinnamon-
peelers; half-starved coolies; lean, sickly women, and poor im
mature children, passed onward in the motley throng, burying
their every-day misery beneath the savage mirth of a night or
two at the Peraharra.
Following the living, dark stream, as closely as the heat, dust,
and strange odours would allow me, I arrived, at length, near to
the Temple of Saman. The edifice, of which I caught a distant
glimpse, was half concealed beneath the heavy, luxuriant foliage
of cocoa-nut topes, arekas, plantains, and banyan trees. An
ocean of human heads filled up the space around the building,
from which proceeded the well-known sounds of the reed and
the tom-tom. Gay flags fluttered from the four corners, and the
lofty pinnacle in the centre ; wreaths of flowers, plaited leaves
and ribbons of many colors, waved jauntily from roof to door ;

A PEEP AT THE PERAHARRA. 419

while round the pillars. of the walls and door-posts clustered rich
bunches of most tempting fruit.
Close by this busy scene, another group was forming under a
large and lofty Pandahl, or open bungalow. Forcing my way to
one corner of the shed, I found a company of Indian jugglers,
consisting of two men, a girl, and a child of perhaps three years.
The men were habited in strange uncouth dresses, with large
strings of heavy black beads around their necks ; the girl was
simply and neatly clad in white, with silver bangles and anklets,
and a necklaee of native diamonds. It would be impossible to
detail all their extraordinary performances, which far exceeded any
thing I had ever read of their art. The quantity of iron and
brass ware which they contrived to swallow was truly marvellous;
ten-penny nails, clasp-knives, gimlets, were all treated as so many
items of pastry or confectionary, and I could but picture to my
self the havoc a dozen of these cormorants would commit in an
ironmonger's shop. Not the least remarkable of their feats was
that of producing a sheet of water upon the sand close at our
feet; and, after conjuring upon its clear surface half-a-dozea
young ducks and geese, suddenly causing it to freeze in such a
solid mass as to allow of our walking across it without causing
so much as a crack in its crystal body. One more feat I must re
late ; which was that of suspending the girl while seated on a
sort of ottoman, to the ridge-pole of the shed; and at a given signal,
removing the rope by which she hung, leaving her still suspended
in the air — not with a regular apparatus, such as is used by the
performers of a similar trick in London and Paris, but apparently
with no apparatus at all ! For, to my exceeding amazement,
a sword was given to me, as the only European of the company,
and I was told to cut and slash as much as I pleased above and
around the girl. After some hesitation, I hacked and hewed the
air in every direction, around and close to the suspended maiden
with a vigour which would inevitably cut asunder any means of
support ; yet there she swung unmoved, without any sort of ap
parent agent of suspension except the air itself! Snake-charming

420 A PEEP AT THE PERAHARRA.

and dancing completed the entertainment. When I left the
place it was night.
Near the temple all was noise and confusion, and it was with
some difficulty that I forced my way through the dense crowd,
and reached the steps of the venerated shrine. The priest sta
tioned at the entrance made a way in for me as well as he could,
but the pressure inside was intense. Hundreds of men and
women pressed eagerly forward to reach the flight of huge stone
stairs which led up to the sacred depository. It was as bad as a
crush to get into the Crystal Palace. My passage was so slow
that I had time to examine and admire the fine antique carved
work on the pillars and ceiling of the entrance-hall, as well as on
the tall pilasters which lined the ample staircase. There was a
beauty of style and a high degree of finish about this work that
could not be attained in Ceylon in the present day. Arrived, at
length, at the inner temple or sacred. shrine above, I passed with
the rest, between a richly brocaded curtain which hung in folds
across the entrance at the top of the stairs, and stood before the
famed relic of Buddha, or rather the jeweled casket which con
tained it. I felt disappointed at the spectacle here arising, per
haps from my taking no interest in tbe exhibition as a religious
ceremony, and looking at it merely as an empty show, not far
removed from the status of Bartholomew Fair. The strong glare
of a hundred lights, the heat and crowd of so many in so small a
place, the sickly perfume of the piles of Buddha fiowers heaped
before the shrine by the pilgrims, the deafening, discordant din
of a score of tom-toms, and vile screeching pipes made me glad
. enough to descend the stairs, and fiinging a rupee into the poor-
box of the god, to escape once more into the fresh air.
From the votaries of Saman I entered another crowd assem
bled round a gaily decorated building, which I at once perceived
was a Hindoo temple. Here, to the sound of much music, and
by the light of many lamps, a group of young dancing-girls were
delighting the motley crowd. There were but three of them, one a
finely-made, tall, sylph-like creature, with really graceful move
ments ; the others younger, stouter, and far less pleasing. A

A PEEP AT THE PERAHARRA. 421

good deal of pains bad evidently been taken with their dress,
which sparkled at all points with what I was assured were pre
cious stones. I have heard that is not uncommon for these
Nautch girls to have jewelry about their dress to the value of
twenty thousand pounds. The graceful little jacket which the
chief dancer wore over her fiowing white robes sparkled and
glistened with something which was quite new to me as articles
of ornament : along the edge of her pure white garment, shone
a whole host of fire-flies, whioh by some ingenious arrangement
had been secured to the dress, and gave a strange and pleasing
novelty to the appearance of her attire, as she swept gracefully
round in slow and measured steps. The music to which these
people dance, is anything but pleasing to an English ear : indeed,
there is scarcely a trace of rhythm in it; yet they contrive to
measure their mazy and difficult dance by its notes with admira
ble precision. Long custom has so attached them to their empty,
meaningless music that they can appreciate no other. I am cer
tain that M. Julien's band would scarcely be listened to by the
Singalese if there were a few tom-toms within hearing. It is a
curious fact that in the districts in which these Nautch girls are
brought up, education is so rare, that these dancers are generally
the only lay persons within many days' journey who can either
read or write. The priests can all read, if not write, and they
take care to instruct the temple-girls in order to enable them to
learn the various songs and legends for recital at their periodic
festivals. The rest of the population they keep in the densest
ignorance. Leaving the dancers and priests, I strolled toward the river
Kaloo-ganga, whose quiet, palm-shaded banks stood out in sweet
est contrast to the noisy revelry I had just beheld. The moon was
near the full, and rising high above the many rich green topes
of palms, and gorgeous plantains, lit up the peaceful scene with
radiance not of earth. It is hardly possible to conceive the
magic beauty of moonlight in the tropics ; those who' have wit
nessed it, can never forget their feelings under its influence.
36

422 A PEEP AT THE PERAHARRA.

it, but the affair would be a dead failure ; and did it succeed,
strangers to these climes would pronounce it an unnatural paint
ing. Even in its reality, it bears the impress of something half
unearthly, and it requires the testimony of the huge fingery
leaves, as they wave to the breeze, to assure one that the whole
scene is not imaginary. Fully as bright and radiating, though
softer in its hue, than the broad sunshine, the moon poured down
in living streams its gifts of ether-light. The monster palms,
the slender arekas, the feathery baraboos and tamarinds, revelled
in the harmony and glow of radiant raoonlight, which leaping
down in phosphorescent waves, sprang on from leaf to fiower,
from bud to herb, and streaming through the waving seas of
giant, emerald grass, died sparkling at its feet.
Some of the topes along this gentle river grew so thickly that
not the faintest ray of light found its soft way among them; the
deepest shade was there, and only in one of these could I trace
any vestiges of living beings. A little hut was buried far away
in the inmost recesses of a tope — all bright above, all gloom
below. The door was open, and from it shone a faintly glim
mering light ; so tiny was the ray amidst that heavy shade, so
distant did it seem, that it defied all conception of space, and
made my eyes ache to gaze at it. I, at length, distinguished
faint sounds proceeding from it. They were those of a regular
harmony. Strolling nearer, I heard that they proceeded from
cultivated voices. What a sensation ! The music was that of
the " Evening Hymn !" and it came upon me with the echoes
of the uncouth Babel of Heathenism I had just left still ringing
in my ears, like the sun-light on a surging sea. When I
recovered from the delightful surprise, I found that the singers
were the family of a native missionary who had embraced Chris
tianity. The next day the bazaar was crowded with dealers in and dig
gers for precious stones. Hundreds of Moormen, Chitties, Arabs,
Parsees, and Singalese were busily employed in barter ; and a
most noisy operation it was. In the neighbourhood of Ratna
poora exist many tracts of clayey and gravelly land, rich in

A PEEP AT THE PERAHARRA. 423

rubies, sapphires, garnets, turquoise, and cat's-eyes. For the
privilege of digging for these, or of sifting them from the sands
of some of the rivers, the natives pay heavy rents to Govern
ment; often sub-letting the ground, at large profits, to needy
speculators. Their harvest is usually offered for sale during the
Peraharra ; and, be their gains what they may, they are generally
rid of the whole amount before the end of the festival. The exist
ence of this source of wealth is unfortunately, a bane, rather than
a blessing, to the district ; for whole villages fiock to the ruby-
grounds, delving and sifting for weeks together, utterly neglect
ing their rice fields and gardens. Arrack taverns have multi
plied, intemperance has increased, long tracts of fertile land have
ceased to be sown with paddy, and the country-people now buy
their food from strangers, in place of growing it as forraerly. It
will be a happy time for Saffragam when its stores of precious
stones shall be exhausted ; for not till then will peaceful indus
try be once more sought.
Struggling and forcing a way through the busy crowd were to
be seen one or two Hindoo fakeers, most repulsive objects, de
pending for subsistence on the alms of pilgrims and others. One
of these wretched creatures, in the fulfilment of a vow, or as an
act of fancied righteousness, had held his left arm for so raany
years erect above his head, that it could not now be moved — and
grew transfixed, emaciated, and bony. It seemed more like a
dry, withered stick tied to the body than a part of itself The
other fakeer had closed his hands so long that the finger-nails
had grown quite through the palms, and projected at the back
of them ; these miserable-looking objects appeared to reap a tol
erable harvest, and seeraed to be then iu no pain.
Under the shade .of a banyan tree, a grave-looking Moorman
was amusing a crowd of boys and women with ihe recital of
some wonderful or silly legend. The trade of story-telling, in
the East, is still a profitable one, if I might judge from the com
fortable appearance of this well-clad talker.
When I left Ratnapoora crowds were still flocking into the

424

A PEEP AT THE PERAHARRA.

town, for on the morrow the huge temple elephants were ex
pected to march in procession through the place, decked out
in all sorts of finery, and bearing the casket and relic; but
it was a wearisome spectacle, and I was heartily glad to find
myself once more on my pony, quietly winding through green
paddy-fields and under shady topes.

THE INDIAN LION.

HUNTING IN THE INDIAN ARCHIPELAGO.

lisr consequence of information received from several natives
that abundance of large game was to be found along the banks
of the Moar river, a party of three agreed to explore its re
sources. A jMalacca boat, with a small cabin capable of shel
tering us from rain and sun, was accordingly hired, the neces
sary provender for a three weeks' cruise put on board, and we
started from Singapore with favouring breezes. The latter soon
forsook us, and instead of a passage of twenty-four hours, as we
expected, we did not arrive at the mouth of the river before
three days, where we were very nearly terminating our journey in a
rather unpropitious manner. A strong north-west wind blowing
against an ebb tide caused the sea to get up most unpleasantly,
and upon attempting to get over the bar we found so little water
that our boat all but struck several times, so that we were com
pelled to up sail and go out to sea for the night. Had we struck,
the boat would have gone to pieces in five minutes, for they are
36* (425)

426 HUNTING IN THE INDIAN ARCHIPELAGO,

miserably constructed craft, put together with the very fewest
possible number of nails, and look as if a good shake would
cause them to fall asunder. The two large mat sails have to be
lowered and shifted from side to side of the masts on every oc
casion of tacking, and are so cumbrous and clumsy that one
would suppose them to have been invented about the time of the
Argonauts. We got, however, safely over the bar and into the
river the following morning, and with about half-flood in our fa
vour, proceeded to pull leisurely up the river.
The Moar is a fine river, and could vessels get over the bar, a
ship of the largest size might go up for fully one hundred miles.
There is ample depth of water, but the river is extremely tortu
ous in its course, winding so as to bring the sun shining in your
faee this hour, right behind you the next, or in less than that
time right round the compass. The general direction of the
river is westward, and it rises, by the account given us by the
Malays in the mountains of Pahang, leaving Mount Ophir con
siderably to the west, and the fall must be very gradual, for the
ebb and flow are pretty equal. The river is about five hundred
yards broad, after you enter, but it soon diminishes to about
three hundred yards, and this breadth I should think it retains
for seventy or eighty miles. At Bukit Kupong, where we
stopped for some days, about one hundred miles up the river,
the Malay man who lives there, told us he measured the stream
opposite his house, and that it was exactly sixty-five fathoms
broad. Between Sungei Mati and Grisi the river becomes en
tirely fresh ; the water is excellent to drink, and soft and most
refreshing to bathe in. It is, however, full of alligators of large
size, and it is therefore unsafe to swim about, although we did so on
one occasion ; but the sight of large alligators next day was suffi
cient hint to us to confine our ablutions to lifting water from the
river in a timbah, eastern fashion. For the first ten or twenty miles
the banks of the river are clothed with the usual mangrove, but
not so entirely as I expected. Every now and then there are
pleasant vistas showing diversified foliage. The nipah palm
fringes the river, and is evidently cut down all along the

HUNTING IN THE INDIAN ARCHIPELAGO. 427

banks. The nebong palm is very abundant ; there appears to be
regular forests of it, and often did we desire a cabbage from the
top of one, but we had no hatchet to cut them down, and the
thorns with which the tree is covered effectually prevents the
possibility of climbing it. For a long way up the river there is
no appearance of human habitations. The first arrived at are
those at Sungei Mati, but we did not visit this place, to our great
regret, as there are abundance of deer to be found on an island
formed by the splitting of this tributary of the Moar before it
joins the parent stream, and it seems to be the very region of
elephants, of which we had a convincing proof the first night of our
arrival. As it is impossible to proceed against the tide, we were
compelled to anchor every ebb, and pull with the flood.
Anxious to avail ourselves to the utmost of the flood-tide, we
had agreed to take our turns of watch to keep the men at their
oars, and much they needed such vigilance, for a more lazy, good
for nothing set of fellows we could scarcely have found had we
been looking for them. About half-past eleven our companion
on watch heard a roar, which he at first thought issued from a
legion of tigers, and presently a plunge into the water as if a
shoal of whales were playing their gambols in the vicinity.
But he -yas not left long in suspense, for, although the night was
dark, he soon observed some fifteen or twenty large objects ap
proaching the boat, which after contemplating for some time, he
concluded must be elephants, whereupon he ran down and awoke
Mr. S. and myself. All our guns were unfortunately in their cases,
as we did not dream of having shooting so soon, or that animals
would be so accommodating as to swim off to us, but Mr. S. had
a single-barrel rifle loaded the previous evening to shoot alliga
tors. This was discharged at three or four of the animals at about
twenty paces distant. Immediately after firing he looked down
and found the proboscis of a fellow within a few feet of him, so
close that he was compelled to start back to prevent the animal
from laying hold of him. The beast had got right under the bow of
the boat, and one of the boatmen, to keep him off, took a long pole
used for keeping the sail on stretch, and commenced poking the

428 HUNTING IN THE INDrAN ARCHIPELAGO.

elephant in the head, which he resented by jerking the pole out
of the man's hand, with such violence that he narrowly escaped
joining them in their nocturnal swim. The boat then passed
right over the back of the beast, who came up on the opposite
side and made for shore, and "When he was about five paces dis
tant, a Bengali Shikari, who accompanied us, put a couple of
bullets into his neck, from a large musket he had contrived to
load with a charge, judging from the report, enough for a small
cannon. Upon this the boast uttered a yell as if grievously
hurt, and had we stopped, the chances are we might have fol
lowed bim up and got him next day. But, we were anxious to
get up the river to the plains, where we had reason to suppose
the wild cattle abounded, and therefore proceeded on our way so
soon as the excitement of the present visit subsided. The troop
of elephants must havo been very large, for besides those that
swam the river, we heard trumpeting in all directions along the
side they came frora, answering those that crossed over, who no
doubt intimated to their companions that all was not quite right
in the river. The following day we stopped at a place called
Grisi, where there is a single Malay hut inhabited by an old
man and his family, who has a few cocoa-nut trees around the
house, but, save t'nose, no other species of cultivation, although
the spot appears to be one capable of producing all tropical
fruits, rice, &o. It is a marvel how these people exist. The
river supplies thera with fish, and a large fine kind of prawn,
called " Udong Gala," but how they procure rice and salt I know
not, seeing that they are too lazy to put their hands to any kind
of work. We spent a pleasant time at Grisi, saw the tracks of
a variety of wild animals, deers and tigers especially, also of the
elephant, and the rhinoceros, and heard and saw several jungle-
fowl, and got some shots at the latter. On the tide making,
and after a most refreshing bathe, we started for Pankalang
Kotah, where we hoped to obtain guides to show us the haunts
of the Saladang or wild cow, doer, and other game.
We arrived at Pankalang Kotah at about two, P. M. This
village is pleasantly situated on rising ground, and was the resi-

HUNTING IN THE INDIAN ARCHIPELAGO. 429

dence of the late Tumungong of Moar, whose house still remains
surrounded by a pager of nibong. It has a " bali-bali," or place
for the natives to assemble and talk over events within the enclo
sure, and the tenement itself is about as good as a native of Sin
gapore, with ten or twelve dollars per mensem, would think of
living in. The rest of the houses or huts are raiserable habita
tions, but quite good enough for their owners, for of all the lazy,
good-for-nothing fellows I ever raet with, those at Pankalang
Kotah have the pre-eminence ; even our lazy boatmen were aston
ished at their indolence, and remarked that elsewhere the men
worked, but here the women We saw these poor drudges
pounding rice and going to the river for water, which they car
ried in a number of cocoa-nut shells collected together with rat
tans, whilst their lords and masters walked about, the very
emblems of indolence. The Malays look lazy and harmless, but
there are some of the most cut-throat looking scoundrels I ever
saw, Bugis, who evidently rule the kampong, although nominally
under the chief of the village and acting by his direction. In
deed there does not appear to be at present any properly acknow
ledged head. The late Tumungong died about a year and a half
ago, and since then all bas been anarchy and confusion. Every
fellow who can collect a few followers dubs himself Rajah, and
exercises authority to the extent of his power. We had several
instances of this. The Rajah at Pankalang Kotah seized the salt
passing up the river to the Rajah at Segamet, and whilst we were
at anchor off Bukit Kupong, a Pahang trader in the habit of visit
ing Singapore, came on board the boat, and said the Rajah had
seized four coyans of salt he was taking up the river. We in
quired what Rajah, and he replied, the Rajah at Pagoo. This is
a place so small that it altogether escaped our observation.
There may be three or four huts in the Raj. Thus in forty or
fifty miles we had three rajahs at least, and perhaps an aggre
gate of about thirty huts. It is, therefore, not to be wondered
at that the people are in a miserable condition, and that the land
is given up to wild beasts. The suspicion e-vinced by all whom
we hailed in their little canoes, rowing up and down the river,

430 HUNTING IN THE INDIAN ARCHIPELAGO.

spoke plainly of their fears, and gave us the impression of people
labouring under habitual oppression, whose energies were para
lysed by the conviction that they could not enjoy the fruits of
their labour. The consequence of this stoppage of salt is, that the
price in the interior has risen to eighty dollars per coyan, the Sin
gapore price being ten dollars. We found the people at Pankalang
Kotah most blustering talkers, but most slow to realize their
promises. At first they could show us any amount of game.
There were herds of wild cows in the vicinity — of tens, thirties,
and forties — were we not afraid ? they would take us in amongst
them, but having done so must run off, as they persisted in say--
ing these animals invariably charged, and were the most savage
in the jungle. They then tried to deter us from going, by tell
ing us thirty men had been eaten by tigers. These again were
said to be unusually numerous and ferocious. But all could not
do. We told them so much the better ; ' all we desired was to
see the animals, which they promised faithfully to show us, if we
could get up at four in the morning. We niade no difficulty of
this, so at four A. M., we were up and ready, but no guides. At
last, after waiting until past six, we went on shore and roundly
taxing them with having told us deliberate lies, we got one fel
low to corae with us, and a precious entangled jungle he took us
through, showing us certainly where game had been sorae months
previous, but we could corae upon no previous tracks. After
losing a day to no purpose, we determined to proceed further up
the river, and started accordingly iii the evening.
The morning after we left Pankalang Kotah we found our boat
at anchor of a rather better-looking sort of Malay hut, pictu
resquely situated at the bottom of a nice-looking hill, and surroun
ded by fruit trees. A little old Malay came off to us in his boat,
with whom we immediately entered into conversation, and soon dis
covered that he was a regular Nimrod, who had waged war against
all the denizens of the forest, and who volunteered to show us
wild cows within forty-eight hours ; he told us, however, what
we knew pretty well before, that if we wanted sport it was neces
sary to burn the lalang grass some two or three weeks before-

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JUNGLE FOWL.
HUNTING IN THE INDIAN ARCHIPELAGO. 4S3

hand, when we would be sure of finding herds of the wild cattle
feeding upon the young grass morning and evening. In conse
quence of this not having been done, we had many a weary walk in
vain, and it was not a little tantalizing to see on every plain we went
to, the whole place intersected with their paths, but nought else but
tracks were to be seen. Judging from the foot-marks, however,
the numbers of wild animals in these jungles must be immense.
No spot where we landed was free from either the foot-prints of
the saladang, elephant, tiger, deer, bear, or rhinoceros, and often
the tracks of all these were to be seen in a quarter of an hour's
walk. We found our little Malay friend, whose name " Inchi
Basow" I have much pleasure in recording for the benefit of fu
ture sportsmen, most active, intelligent, and obliging. He beguiled
us in the evenings with stories of the forest, and many an hair
breadth 'scape he appears to have had. The little fellow had
immense pluck, and appeared afraid of nothing in the shape of
a wild beast. His father had been a sportsman before him, and-
euded his days in a sporting manner, having been kneaded into
a pancake by a huge elephant he had the temerity to go after.
Inchi Basow himself has several times nearly shared his father's
fate. On one occasion, whilst in a boat with three others, he
fired at an elephant in the river, who swam up to the boat, and
with one thrust of his tusks sent it to the bottom, Inchi and the
others narrowly escaping by their duck-like powers of swimming
and diving.
We spent several days at Bukit Kupong, making excursions
up and down the river to the various plains where the deer and
wild cattle come out to feed. We saw a good many of the for
mer, but they were very shy and difficult of approach, not coming
out to feed until nearly dusk in the evening, and returning to
the jungle at day-light. Jungle-fowl are tolerably abundant,
and of these we shot several, and could have killed many more,
but were prevented firing for fear of disturbing the large game.
Pigeons small and large are very plentiful, and we saw a variety
of birds of the most brilliant plumage, particularly kingfishers,
of which there were very many species of great beauty. Their
3T

434 HUNTING IN THE INDIAN ARCHIPELAGO.

colours sparkled in the sun like brilliant gems, and were only
surpassed in their hues by the butterflies, which were also, most
numerous and diversified, and would have yielded a rich harvest
to an entomological collector. The river is full of fish. A man
with rod and line might catch any quantity. With a crooked pin
and piece of thread at the end of a bamboo, our people caught
dozens; indeed, the bait was no sooner in the river than it was
seized, but the extemporaneous hook would not hold, so that the
bait was taken off some dozen times ere a fish could be jerked
out of the water with this primitive tackle. The fish thus caught
very much resembled salmon fry, but there were plenty of large
fellows leaping in the deep water at no distance from us. Any
lover of the gentle art would find full occupation for his rod and
line in this fine river, but who could look after such insignificant
sport when the jungles around are full of the noblest quarry that
sportsmen ever went after ? Our stay in this secluded spot
(Bukit Kupong,) surrounded by primeval forests, with every
thing to reward the labours of the naturalist and sportsman, was
an agreeable change from the monotony of a Singapore life.
Every day we saw some new bird or fiower.
The Malays distinctly described to us two species of wild cattle
to be found here, one called Saladang, the other Sapi. On the
20th my companions fell in with a herd of nine of the latter.
They got up to within one hundred and fifty yards of the herd.
Each selected his sapi, fired, and all made off; one was seen with
bis leg broken, but in a moment they disappeared into the jungle,
instead of charging as was expected. Upon following them up,
however, one, a fine young cow, was found quite dead, about
forty yards from where the herd was feeding, struck through the
heart with a rifle bullet. Upon this discovery, the gentlemen
with their attendants must have been a treasure for Punch, could
he have seen them. They capered about, (I only give their own
account of the matter immediately after,) shook hands, I am not
sure if they did not kiss each other, but at all events their joy
was tolerably exuberant. The Shikaris they had with them pro
posed all manner of observances for future luck ; first, it was

HUNTING IN THE INDIAN ARCHIPELAGO. 435

gravely propounded that all the guns should be left on the spot
for the night, but upon further deliberation it was deemed suffi
cient to put their muzzles to the wounds, pass them under the
animal, and anoint each of the gentlemen on the forehead with a
little of the blood. Some other poojahs were gone through to
prevent the tigers demolishing the carcass, which was left in the
jungle, it being night, minus the head and tail, brought home in
triumph and displayed before the writer, who could make but a
poor set-off against such spolia in a very good specimen of a jun
gle-cock. Next day was devoted to the cutting up of this splen
did beast. The following is a description of it iflade on the spot.
The Sapi has much the general appearance of the Bali cattle, but has
not the white patch on the buttocks ; the horns are small, curved
inwards, white tipped with black ; the forehead is flat, with a
tuft of long hair on it, particularly on the bulls ; the back is
curved, the highest point being about the centre ; the spines of
the vertebra are unusually long ; the total height of the animal
killed, from hoof to spines of the dorsal vertebra, was six feet
two inches ; the hair was smooth and silky, of a brown colour,
except on the feet, which were a dirty white ; a mane about two
inches long ran the whole length of the spine. There was no
dewlap, and the whole appearance of the animal was decidedly
game. The fibre of the flesh was flne, well mixed with fat, and
proved decidedly the most delicious meat for flavour, tenderness
and juiciness, that ever any of us tasted. The only regret was
the dreadful waste of it, for it having been killed dead by the
ball, it could not undergo the Mahomedan rite of " simbeleh "
and therefore was " harum " to the Islamites. Some stakes
from the psoe muscles will nevertheless be ever remembered by
us infidels with the most grateful and pleasing recollections;
whether it be our lot to be feasted by aldermen in London, or to
enjoy a recherche dinner upon Soyer's best principles, I am con
fident that the flavour of that steak will rise triumphant against
all the science of the " artiste," and be for ever the standard of
all excellence in our imaginations. The following dinner in the
jungle the day after the sapi's death, is too important an item to

436 HUNTING IN THE INDIAN ARCHIPELAGO.

be omitted in the list of our doings. We observe that the bills
of fare are laid before the public when a great commander is
feted and feasted, and why not those of the great hunter ? not
that we can claim title to Nimrods of the first degree, but our
game was truly noble of its kind, and needed nerve and skill to
follow and secure it ; truly it is mighty hunting.
After a day of more than usual exposure we sat down to a
soup, the quintessence of the wild cow, followed by steaks which
I have already feebly attempted to give some notion of. Then
came a tongue of the sapi stewed with peas, not plucked from
the jungle exactly, but out of an hermetically sealed tin. Then
there was a roast heart, and curry and rice from the most tender
portions. After that roasted to a turn, and looking most invit
ing, a particularly fine jungle fowl; but alas for the liraited
powers of man, we could not get beyond the steaks. An impo
tent attempt was raade at the tongue, a delicacy Apicius raight
have praised, but it proved quite a failure. We could only
raourn our incapacity to do justice to it, uttering feebly, as we
sipped our Madeira, " Suda Chukop." Whilst in this pitiable
state of inertia, a dish was laid before us, that might truly have
raised an appetite under the ribs of death. Smoking hot marrow
bones from the sapi ! Never have I laid eyes on such marrow
and fatness. We had plenty of potatoes and biscuit to eat with
it, and one of our trio essayed a trial ; the deliciousness of the
marrow beguiled him into the belief of his having a corner left
but he found himself afterwards much in the condition of the boa
constrictor after he has swallowed an ox, and I have my doubts
if the repletion would have been recovered from under a week's
abstinence, had it not been for some digesters fortunately brought
with us, and said to contain a pretty good proportion of croton
oil. So let this be a caution to all future sportsmen to take care
how they venture on too rauch sapi in a single day.
The other species of wild cattle (the Saladang) we did not see,
although we met their tracks every day. The Malay guide,
Inchi Basow, told us the meat was coarser than the buffalo, and
not good eating, but the aniraal was much larger than the Sapi,

HUNTING IN THE INDIAN ARCHIPELAGO. 437

some of the bulls growing to several " astas." This is the
moderate height of ten and a half feet. My readers may be
lieve it or not as they please. I am rather sceptical myself, and
only relate what was told me by a man whose statements we
found correct so far as we had the opportunity of testing them.
Besides the various animals I have already mentioned as denizens
of the jungle here, there are a variety of fine birds ; I saw one
morning a brace of those magnificent pheasants called the ma
cartney or euplocomus. There were also the argus, the crypto-
nix, and a variety of others, but our time began to shorten, and
the plains not having been burned, there was little use of our
remaining longer with Inchi Basow, who, poor fellow, was com
pletely foot sore and knocked up at Bukit Kupong. So" we de
termined to go down the river, stay a day at Grisi and another
at Sungie Mati for deer, and then return to Singapore. At
Grisi two of us agreed to take our guns on shore with only shot
to pick up a jungle-fowl for dinner. We had not walked on
more than ten minutes from the Malay hut at Grisi when one of
us saw and shot a jungle-cock. Having loaded and stepped on
a little further most cautiously, to get another shot at a cock we
heard crow a little in advance, we were saluted out of a fern
brake with an ominous growl, which brought us both to a halt.
The growl was repeated three or four times, when, looking at
each other, we determined on the better part of valour, and took
to our heels, laughing and looking back. We had nothing but
small shot in our guns, so we went to the boat, got a supply of
ball, and returned to the spot, where we had the satisfaction of
finding a tiger had just been, but who had taken himself off,
leaving a very unpleasing odour behind him, and his prints most
unpleasantly fresh, considering that had we gone on we should
have been face to face in another minute, a predicament any
thing but pleasant with nothing in your gun larger than small
shot. We have therefore to make honourable mention of this
praiseworthy act on the part of the royal beast in giving us such
timely warning.
As I have before mentioned, it was our intention to proceed
37*

438 HUNTING IN THE INDIAN ARCHIPELAGO.

to Sungei Mati and beat the island for deer where they
are said to abound, but we were prevented by the following inci
dent, which did not make a bad wind-up to our trip. As we
were proceeding towards Sungei Mati, not far from the spot the
troop of elephants crossed when we were going up the river, the
Malay boatmen called to us, giving us the information that some
elephants were bathing in the river. Although asleep, it being
about four o'clock, A. M., we were soon astir. The morning
had not begun to break, and it was still very dark, so we could
see nothing, and so little did I expect to see any thing, I at first
made no attempt to obtain my gun, for, when we got on deck,
the noise and gabble of the Malay boatmen was sufficient in my
idea, to frighten any animals, and I fully believed that they
had made off with themselves. Upon pulling in shore, how
ever, we soon perceived a large elephant enjoying his morn
ing bath, and so little did he seem to care for us, he deliberately
swam towards the boat. It was an exciting moment, for the
great fear was of his escape. As I have said, there was but
little light, but we could see his large body and the great nob on
the top of his head pretty distinctly. The word was given,
"Be steady now," and at about ten paces distance a couple of
balls were put into his head. With this, he turned round, and
again he was saluted with a couple more bullets. Not liking
sueh reception he made for land, and got upon the river bank,
when a well-directed rifle shot hit him hard and made him
scream with pain. But instead of making off, as he might
have done, the noble beast instantly came back into tbe river to
take vengeance upon his adversaries; but he was received so
warmly, that he could never make up his mind to a regular on
slaught on the boat, and when he turned and made off we fol
lowed, pouring in volley after volley upon his devoted head.
Finding the side, of the river we first saw him on rather too hot
to be pleasant, he made up his mind to a change, and across the
river he went. Then, indeed, he was at our mercy, and we fol
lowed, giving him the contents of three double-barrels, one after
the other, in rapid succession, fo^r by the time the third had

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HUNTING IN THE INDIAN ARCHIPELAGO. 441

fired, number one was again loaded. All this time we were
having target practice at the large bump on the top of the head,
for we could see nothing else at about ten yards distance. Every
shot told, and the poor beast spouted water from his proboscis,
uttering low yells of dissatisfaction. But his merciless pursuers
had not pity, although when we did reach the land, and we
heard him at the edge of the river uttering plaintive cries, they
did elicit a few words of sympathy, such as, " Poor beast, he is
severely hurt, do you think he can get away ?" When the boat
was close to the shore, he made one more attempt and came back
into the river, getting so close to the boat as to put us in no
small jeopardy from his tusks, but we gave way, and repulsed
him with a regular broadside; he then took the shore again.
By this time morning began to break, and there was light suffi
cient to see him standing at the river's verge, tossing his trunk
from side to side, with his head towards us. Two of us caught
sight of him at this moment, and saw the large hollow in the
forehead where the animal is most vulnerable. We pulled our
triggers simultaneously, and when the smoke cleared away his
large carcass lay stretched on the ground with the head reclining
in the river. We soon boarded him, that is, so soon as we could
convince the boatmen he was really dead, and found him a large
male with fine tusks ; his fore-foot being exactly fifty-four inches
round the bottom, which would make his height nine feet. He
had evidently been a belligerent gentleman, for his body was
covered with scars of old wounds received in combat, and under
one of his eyes there was an extensive recent wound given by
the tusk of some larger and more powerful adversary. The
Malays say that all the males have tusks, and that even the fe
males are not altogether without them, so that elephant shooting
here would be a more profitable amusement than in Ceylon,
where the tuskers are few, and seldom to be seen. Having se
cured the tusks, which is a more difficult matter than I imagined,
and took us several hours, we determined to make the best of
our way to Singapore, our time being up. In taking out the

442 HUNTING IN THE INDIAN ARCHIPELAGO.

tusks we got seven of our balls, but the brain was not examined,
neither the nob on the top of the head, which was regularly
riddled with balls. These, however, were of little effect, the last
shots fired were the settlers, and I have no doubt that one shot
in the right place is quite sufficiest to bring down the largest
elephant that ever wore tusks.

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. TURKISH OFFICER OP STATE.

A WALK THROUGH CONSTANTINOPLE.

Breakfast over, I prepared to go forth with the irapatience
of feeling that the world of Constantinople was all before rae. I
found a ready dragoman in the hall, — another Demetri, and a
Greek also, as may be supposed, — and with him I started down
another steep hill towards Galata. This thoroughfare was just
as narrow and dirty as the former one; but it was bordered with
shops kept by Italians, Greeks, and Frenchmen. There were
(443)

444 A WALK THROUGH CONSTANTINOPLE.

many English articles for sale, — stockings, cotton prints, cutlery
and blacking. In one window was a number of Punch, with one
of Mr. Leech's clever cuts, attracting the puzzled gaze of some Le
vantines; at a corner was a sign-board, with " Furnished Apart
ments to Let" painted on it; and on the wall of a small burying
ground a Turk sat with a tray of Birmingham steel pens on
cards. The number of veiled women, straggling and shuffling about, in
their large awkward yellow Wellington boots, — for I can describe
them in no better fashion, — first engaged my observation. The
greater portion of them were clad in a cumbersome wrapper or
ferigee of what appeared to be coarse brown serge entirely con
cealing the figure. When it was drawn up a little, one could
see the naked skin of the leg, just appearing above the foot; for
socks and stockings are unknown to the inmates of the harems.
They thrust these odious boots into slipshod slippers without
heels when they go abroad ; and the difficulty of keeping them
on produces a most ungainly shuffling in-toed gait. The veil, or
gashmack, is of one or two pieces. It is now made of such fine
material, — a simple layer of tarlatane in most instances, — that
the features are perfectly discernible through it; and the more
coquettish beauties allow something more than their eyes to be
seen where it divides. These last features are wonderfully fine
— dark, heavy-lashed, and almond-shaped ; and they derive a
strange force of expression from their contrast with the veil.
Their brilliancy is aided by a dark powder introduced under the
lid, which blackens its edges. The women wear no gloves but
stain the ends of their fingers, and palms of their hands, (as well
as, I believe, tho soles of their feet,) with a dye called Henna,
This tinges them a deep tawny red, and the effect is most un
seemly, making them any thing but the "rosy-fingered" beau
ties which some writers have laboured to pass them off as. Their
complexions are pallid and unhealthy-looking, which may in some
measure result from want of legitimate exercise; and they become
prematurely aged. There is not, I imagine, a moie perfect rep
resentation of a witch to be found than an old Turkish woman

A WALK THROUGH CONSTANTINOPLE. 445

affords, when seen hobbling, with a long staff, along the dingy
alleys of Constantinople.
Descending the steep narrow lane, we passed an old gateway
which divides Pera from Galata, and then the road became steeper
and narrower still. But the same busy throng kept slipping and
jostling, and hurrying up and down ; although the absence of
carriages allowed an odd kind of silence to prevail, — such as has
struck one in a great London thoroughfare when the pavement
has been taken up. Now and then, a horseman clattered and
stumbled over the rnugh pavement, in imminent danger as re
garded himself, his iorse, and the foot passengers : and occasion
ally some mules increased the confusion. But every thing was
carried by the hamah — even the blocks of stone from the port,
to be used for the buildings high above us ; and at last I met
one toiling up with a sick sailor on his back, going to a hos
pital. A few minutes brought us down to the bridge of boats, lead
ing from Galata to Stamboul, across the Golden Horn, whioh is
here somewhat over a quarter of a mile in breadth. From this
point one of the most superb views in Constantinople is to be
obtained, — more comprehensive than that frora the steamer, as
the continuation of the port towards the^rsenal is added to the
range. Emerging frora the close and dirty Galata, the bright
panorama fairly takes one's breath away. The wondrous and
dazzling confusion of minarets, domes, towers, ships, trees, ruins,
kiosks, and warehouses with the sparkling water below, more
intensely blue than the sky above, is beyond description. The
ever-changing kaleid(5scope, however, that the bridge affords, may
be better dealt with. One has only to lean against the rails for
five minutes, and he will see some specimen of every known ori
ental race pass by him. Take your place, with your back to the
arsenal, near where the good-tempered little cripple has permis
sion to sit and ask for alms, (as the blind girl in the large straw
hat, and tbe man with the ragged vulture, used to do on the Pont
des Arts, at Paris,) and make all use of your eyes. First observe
how the poor -"-"nikin at your feet has chosen his place care-
38

446 A WALK THROUGH CONSTANTINOPLE.

fully. He knows that some paras will come in change from the
toll, and he waits for them, near the gate, before you put them
in your pocket. At the other end of the bridge he would have
no chance of this small money. And now watch the folks before
you, and let me be the showman.
First of all comes a person high in command, upon horseback.
He has adopted, in common with his Sultan, the European dress
— the red fez alone distinguishes him from any other foreigner
you might chance to meet. His servant, in Turkish costume,
runs by his side, and can keep up with him for any distance.
The trappings of the horse are magnificently embroidered with
tinsel and gold, and they carry your mind back to the days when
you saw the combat between Kerim and Sanballat, in Timour
the Tartar. The old Turk with the mighty turban, who meets
him, dislikes the European dress and the simple fez ; he foresees,
in the change from the lumbering costume of himself and fathers,
the spirit of advancing civilization which must shake the raost
time-honoured observances of the Eastern world, in another age :
and he knows, with sorrow to himself, that every paddle-wheel
which churns the waters of the Bosphorus, produces, by its revo
lutions, others almost imperceptible, but no less certain, in his
social and political sifcte. He clings, however, to his religion
and his Koran ; that will always endure, for the wily impostor who
drew up the Mohammedan code so flattered the passions of his
followers, that their allegiance was certain as long as huraan na
ture remained unchanging.
There is loud musical female laughter now heard, and an odd
vehicle crosses the bridge, drawn by a jaded horse. We have
no conveyance like it in England : nor possibly is there its fellow
out of Turkey. It has no seats ; but on cushions in its interior
those dark-eyed beauties are sitting, — pale Circassian girls, and
inmates of the harem of some great man. The carriage halts
in front of you, to allow a train of mules, carrying planks, to
pass on their way to Pera, and you can see the inmates plainly.
One of them stares fixedly at you ; '^ou look again, and she is
not angry — a few years ago 'you would have been sent away.

A WALK THROUGH CONSTANTINOPLE. 449

She only draws back, but she Still keeps her eyes on you — won
drous, large-pupilled eyes, in whose depths your own vision
appears to lose itself. Then she speaks to her companion, and
just as the vehicle moves on, they all three join in another burst
of ringing laughter, and leave you to debate whether an uncompa
nionable beauty — to say nothing of three — can be regarded as a
jewel of a bore in a man's household. All this time the tide of
foot passengers has been flowing on. Here are some Turkish
soldiers ; untidy looking fellows, in blue coats and white trow
sers, still with the red fez. A cavass, or policeman, is with
them. He wears a surtout, pistols are in his belt, a sabre at
his side, and his breast is ornamented with rows of cartridges :
they are all going to take up some unfortunate wight. He is
followed by a Dervish — one of those who dance, on certain days,
at Pera : he also keeps a shop in Stamboul. The other way
comes a group of keen Armenian merchants, each swinging a
chaplet of beads about, or counting them restlessly, and half
unconsciously, with his finger. This will be a feature you can
not fail to notice before you have been an hour in Constantinople.
The Chaplet or tesbeh, contains ninety-nine wooden beads, divided
into three rows by little oblong pieces of turned wood. It is used
in certain forms of the Mohammedan religion : but the active
minds of the Armenian and Greek traders require something to
expend their irritability upon, and so they all carry these beads,
constantly whirling them about, or rapidly reckoning them up,
by twos and threes, all the while they are conversing or.
'smoking. Amongst the crowd you see porters ; water-carriers, or Sakas ;
cake-men, or Locumjees; native couriers, or Tatars, who will
take you for a certain sum, every thing included, to Bagdad, if
you please ; and, bending beneath their baskets, are grape-sellers,
with the beautiful fruit we have before noticed — the chow-oosh-
azumc, as it is pronounced, and which you should always ask
for. Now two trains of mules, laden with firewood and barrels,
have met, and there is great confusion, which the drivers consi
derably increase. On the water below there is equal bustle.
38*

450 A WALK THROUGH CONSTANTINOPLE.

The eighty thousand caiques, said to be plying about Constanti
nople, must necessarily get, at times, in each other's way ; and
our own " bailees," would pale before the riot and swearing that
begin when such takes place. Here a heavy boat, filled with
country people, is going up the Bosphorus : there are two steam
ers lying, all ready to start from the bridge — one for Prince's
Islands, and the other for Buyukdere. The dogs sleep about
the bridge just the same as in the streets, and do not move for
any body. Little Greek Children, taught to beg with a winning
smile and courtesy, instead of the whining cant of our mendi
cants, get immediately before you; and the distant appearance
of a camel or two at the Stamboul end of the bridge, and a buf
falo drove at the other, with the opposition mules still in the
centre, promises such an awkward rencontre, that our best plan is
to get away as soon as possible. But you will often return to
this Galata bridge, and always find amusement in watching its
ever- changing-obj eets.
My guide took me on, through the narrow crooked streets of
Stamboul — ^which are certainly a trifle cleaner than those of
Pera — towards the chief bazaar. He was anxious to prove that
he was doing his duty ; and showed and told me so much that
my head was soon in an absolute whirl.
" Here's where they cut the heads off," he said, in somewhat
more difficult English than I care to distress my readers with ;
"just here, where these two streets meet, and the body is left
here, a day or so, and sometimes tbe dogs get at it. Not many
executions now — only English subjects."
There was something very startling in this information, until
it was explained. By " English subjects," he meant the emi
grants from Malta and the Ionian Islands — natives of those
places, who bear the worst characters of all the graceless scamps
fearming-, unfortunately, a large proportion of the Pera popula
tion. There had not, however, been an execution for more than
a year, with all the popular talk of Turkish scimitars and sacks.
"All English Gentlemen," continued Demetri, " think they
cut off heads every day in Stamboul, and put them, all of a row,

A WALK THROUGH CONSTANTINOPLE. 451

on plates at the Sei-aglio Gate. And they think people are al
ways being drowned in the Bosphorus. Not true. I know a
fellow who is a dragoman, and shows that wooden shoot which
comes from the wall of the Seraglio point, as the place they
slide them down. It is only to get rid of the garden rubbish.
Same with lots of other things."
Demetri was right. To be completely desillusione on certain
points, one has to journey with a determination to be affected
by things as they strike you. Swiss girls, St. Bernard dogs,
Portici fishermen, the Rhine, Nile travelling, and other objects
of popular rhapsodies, fearfully deteriorate upon practical ac
quaintance. Few tourists have the courage to say that they have
been "bored," or at least disappointed, by some conventional
lion. They find that Guide-books, Diaries, Notes, Journals, &c.
&c., all copy one from the other in their enthusiasm about the same
things ; and they shrink from the charge of vulgarity, or lack
of mind, did they dare to differ. Artists and writers will study
effect, rather than graphic truth. The florid description of some
modern book of travel is as different to the actual impressions of
ninety-nine people out of a hundred — allowing all these to pos
sess average education, perception, and intellect — when painting
in their minds the same subject, as the artfully tinted lithograph,
or the picturesque engraving of the portfolio or annual, is to the
faithful photograph.
The Han, or, as we usually pronounce it, Khan, was a square
surrounded by buildings with galleries ; with other occupants it
could have been easily converted into a slave-market. A vague-
notion of it may be formed frora an old Borough inn — one story
high, and built of stone. There was, however, a tree or two in
tbe middle, and a fountain ; in the corner was also an indifferent
coffee-house. These places, of which there are nearly two hundred in Con
stantinople, have been built from time to time, by the Sultans
and wealthy persons, for the accommodation of the merchants
arriving, by caravan, from distant countries. No charge is made
for their use ; but the rooms are entirely unfurnished, so that

452 A WALK THROUGH CONSTANTINOPLE.

the occupier must bring his mattress, little carpet, and such
humble articles of cookery as he may require, with bim. A key
of his room is given to him, and he is at once master, for the
time being, of the apartment. In the Han I visited, the occu
pants were chiefly Persians, in high black sheep-skin caps,
squatted, in the full enjoyment of Eastern indolence, upon their
carpets, and smoking their narghillas, or "hubble-bubbles."
Some of them came from a very great distance — Samarcand, and
the borders of Cabool, for instance ; so that their love of repose
after the toil and incertitude of a caravan journey was quite
allowable. Demetri next insisted that I should see the two vast
subterraneous cisterns, relics of great antiquity. One of these,
the roof of which was supported by three or four hundred pillars,
is dry, and used as a rope-walk, or silk-winding gallery. The
other has water in it. You go through the court of a house,
and then descend, over rubbish and broken steps, to a cellar,
from which the reservoir extends, until lost in its gloomy im
mensity. The few bits of candle whioh the man lights to show
it off, cannot send their rays very far from the spectator. It is
more satisfactory to throw a stone, and hear it plash in the dark
water at the end of its course with a strange hollow sound.
Over this mighty tank are the houses and streets of Stamboul.
The number of column?, which are of marble, is said to be about
three hundred ; and the water, which you are expected to taste,
is tolerably good.
We Jeft the cistern, and traversed a few more lanes on our
way to the bazaars. In these Eastern thoroughfares, narrow and
crowded, one continually labours under the impression of being
about to turn into a broad street or large square from a bye-
way : but this never arrives. A man raay walk for hours about'
Constantinople, and always appear to be in the back streets; al-
thmigh, iu r;;ality, thoy nny be the great arteries of the city.
Tortuous and very much alike, Stamboul is also one large laby
rinth, as regard .s its thoroughfares; the position of a stranger
left by himself in the centre would be hopeless.
Smyrna had, in some measure, prepared me for the general

A WALK THROUGH CONSTANTINOPLE. 453

appearance of an oriental bazaar ; but the vast extent of these
markets at Constantinople created a still more vivid impression.
To say that the covered row of shops must altogether be miles
in length — that vista after vista opens upon the gaze of the as
tonished stranger, lined with the costliest productions of the
world, each coUeoted in its proper district — that one may walk
for an hour, without going over the same ground twice, amidst
diamonds, gold, and ivory ; Cashmere shawls, and Chinese silks ;
glittering arms, costly perfumes, embroidered slippers, and mir
rors ; rare brocades, ermines, Morocco leathers, Persian nick-
nacks; amber mouth-pieces, and jewelled pipes — that, looking
along the shortest avenue, every known tint and colour meets
the eye at once, in the wares and costumes, and that the noise,
the motion, the novelty of this strange spectacle is at first per
fectly bewildering — all this, possibly, gives the reader the notion
of some kind of splendid mart, fltted to supply the wants of the
glittering personages who figure in the Arabian Nights' Enter
tainments ; yet it can convey but a poor idea of the real interest
which such a place calls forth, or the most extraordinary assem
blage of treasures displayed there, amidst so much apparent
shabbiness. No spot in the world — ^neither the Parisian Boule
vards nor Regent-street — can boast of such an accumulation
of valuable wares from afar, as the great bazaar at Constanti
nople. Hundreds and thousands of miles of rocky road and
sandy desert have been traversed by the moaning camels, who
have carried those silks and precious stones from Persia, with
the caravan. From the wild regions of the mysterious central
Africa, that ivory, so cunningly worked, in the next row, has
been brought, the coal-black people only know how, until the
Nile floated it down to Lower Egypt. Then those soft Cashmere
shawls have made a long and treacherous journey to Trebizond,
whence the fleet barks of the cold and stormy Euxine at last
brought them up the fairy Bosphorus to the very water's edge of
the city. From the remote, active America, from sturdy
England, from Cadiz, Marseilles, and all along the glowing
shores of the Mediterranean, safely carried over the dark and

454 A WALK THROUGH CONSTANTINOPLE.

leaping sea, by brave iron monsters that have fought the winds
with their scalding breath, these wares have come, to- tempt the
purchasers, in the pleasant, cate, subdued light of the bazaars
of Stamboul.
I have said that each article has its proper bazaar assigned to
it. Thus, there is one row for muslins, another for slippers,,
another for fezzes, for shawls, for arms, for drugs, and so on.
Yet there is no competition amongst tbe shopkeepers ; no strug
gling to out-placard or out-advertize each other, as would occur
with us in cool-headed, feverish, crafty, credulous London. You
must not e:^ect them to pull one thing down after another for
you tb look at, Until it appears hopeless to conceive that the
counter will ever again be tidy, or every thing returned to its
place. The inerchant will show you what you ask for, but no
more. He imagines that when you came to buy at his store,
you had inade up your mind as to what you wanted ; and that
not finding it, you will go elsewhere, and leave him to his pipe
again '
He knows how to charge, though ; but he is easily open to con
viction that he has asked too high a price. For the way of deal
ing with him is as follows. Wanting one of the light scarfs with
the fringed ends, which supersede the uses of braces in the
Levant, I inquired the price at a bazaar stall. The man told
me fifty piastres (half a sovereign). I immediately offered him
five-and-twenty. This he did not take, and I was walking away,
when he called me back, and said I should have it. I told him,
as he had tried to cheat me, I would not give him more than
twenty now ; upon which, without any hesitation, he said it was
mine. This plan I afterwards pursued, whenever I made a pur
chase at Constantinople, and I most generally found it answer.
My merry friend at Smyrna had given me the first lesson in its
]^racticability. I do not suppose that they ask these high prices as the French
do, because they Appose we are raade of money; I believe, on
the contrary, that they try to impose on their own countrymen
in the same manner ; for, to judge from the long haggling and

A SHOP IN THB BAZAAR.

P. 454.

A WALK THROUGH CONSTANTINOPLE. 455

solemn argument which takes place when they buy of each
other, tbe same wide difference of opinion as to a fair value exists
between the purchaser and vendor, under every circumstance.
There is a common failing with tourists, of wishing to buy
every thing in the way of souvenirs of a place, as soon as they
arrive ; instead of waiting to see which is the most advantageous
market. In this mood, I thought it proper to lay in a stock of
otto of roses immediately; and we went to the most famous
merchant of the bazaar for this purpose. We were asked into a
small back room, in which were soft cushions to sit upon ;
and the attendant directly filled a pipe for each of us, and
brought some coffee, in tiny cups placed in a little metal stand,
the size of an egg-cup. The pipe-sticks were of cherry-wood,
and very long : where the red bowl rested on the matting, a
neat little brass tray was placed ; and a small charcoal fire-place
in the corner, on which the coffee was made, supplied* the braise
to light the latakia.
I was very much disappointed with the Turkish coffee, of
which we hear so much in England : it is not to be mentioned
iu the same breath with that of the Estaminet Hollandais, in
the- Palais Royal, or any other good Parisian house. The coffee,
in this instance, was bruised rather than ground, made very
strong, sweetened, and then poured out, grouts and all, into the
little cups. When it had settled, it was carefully sipped, and
the grounds filled up above a third of the cup.
There was much to look at in our merchant's shop. Apart
from his perfumes, he dealt in Damascus arms, tiger skins, and
Persian curiosities — these latter being chiefly portfolios, looking-
glasses, and oblong cases, which my lady friends at home have
pronounced to make admirable knitting-boxes. They were all
painted with representations of ladies and gentlemen hunting,
making love, and walking about in flne gardens. The ladies ap
peared all of one family, with marvellously dark almond-shaped
eyes ; and the gentlemen had long dark beards, that a French
sapeur might have hoped in vain to have equalled. Every thing,
however, was outrageously dear.

456 A WALK THROUGH CONSTANTINOPLE.

The otto was poured into the little gilded bottles we are famii
liar with ; and in each of their slender channels a little balloon
of air was left that the purchaser might see he was not cheated,
by floating it up and down. There are different kinds of otto.
The cheapest is exceedingly nasty, and leaves a scent behind it
something between turpentine and peppermint; it is as bad in its
way as Boulogne eau-de-Cologne. The best costs about sixteen
pence a bottle. This is the purest essential oil of the rose, and
will impart its scent to a casket or drawer for years, eveii through
the piece of bladder tied over it.
The shop-keepers come to the bazaar in the morning, and leave
it at night, when it is shut up. They take their meals there,
however. One, a shawl-raerchant, was making a light dinner
upon grapes and bulls'-eyes ; another had bread and dates ; and
many had little portions of minced meats done in leaves, from
the cook-shops. Of a coarser kind were the refreshments carried
about by raen on round trays. These were chiefly cold pancakes,
chesnuts of poor flavour, rings of cake-bread, fruits, and sweet
meats. Of these last, the rah-hak-la-coom (I spell it as pro
nounced) is the raost popular. It is made, I was told, of honey,
rice, and almonds, and flavoured with otto in an extremely deli
cate manner. Its meaning is, " giving repose to the throat."
The bazaars are perfect thoroughfares for horses and car
riages, as well as for foot-passengers ; and as there is no divi
sion in the narrow row between road and footway, one must always
be on his guard. Now, a man of importance, with his servant
running at his stirrup, will come by ; now, one of the lumber
ing carriages filled with women. And indeed these latter form
the principal class of customers. Enrly iu the day they crowd
to the finery shops, and there you will see them having every
thing unrolled, whether they want it or not, oninparing, haggling,
and debating, exactly as our own ladies would do at any enor
mous sacrifice that " must be cleared" in a few days. Some
times, by great good chance, you may see a taper ankle and
small white naked foot displayed at the shoe-shop; but under
such circumstances you must not appear to be looking on, Or

D

\

r M * /

.,»

TURKISH WOMEN.
39

A WALK THROUGH CONSTANTINOPLE. 459

the merchant may address some observation to you very uncom
plimentary to the female branches of your family, and singu
larly forcible to be uttered before his lady customers. Of verbal
delicacy, however, the Turkish women have not the slightest
notion. The walk back to Pera, through Galata and up the steep rugged
lane, was very tiring, yet the constant novelty still made me for
get fatigue. At the scrap of burying ground on the hill, which,
like many of the other cemeteries, lies in the most thickly crowded
quarters of the city, like the London graveyards, — I stopped
awhile for a cup of sherbet from one of the venders of that drink,
which is precisely the cherryade of our evening parties, into
which a lump of compressed snow is put. Looking at the
burial-ground, I thought that very little respect appeared to be
paid to the dead. It was not enclosed; dogs were sleeping about,
and cocks and hens scratching up a miserable living from the
ground. The gravestones were all out of the perpendicular, and
some had been tumbled down completely. Here and there the
stone turbans which had been knocked from the tombs of the
janissaries were yet lying; and on that part that bordered the
street they had put old boxes, crates, tubs, cheap goods for sale,
and lastly the flre-engine, about which, and the dancing dervish
who was sitting near it opposite his convent, I shall have some
thing to say further on. Just beyond the burying-ground I went
into a French hair-dresser's for some trifles for the toilet. He
was a smart active fellow, and a Parisian — apparently doing a
good business in his way, but hating the Turks and their country
intensely. He told me, amongst much Pera scandal, that he
once had an intrigue with a Turkish woman — a very dangerous
game in this country — and that her relations became aware that
she was under his roof. They had it surrounded by a cordon
of police, and he was ultimately obliged to break through the
wall into the next house, by which means she escaped, with the
connivance of the neighbours. He added, that the whole of the
story was in GalignanHs Messenger at the time ; and upon in
quiry afterwards in Pera, I found that it was all entirely true,

460 A WALK THROUGH CONSTANTINOPLE.

for the affair had made some noise at the time ; and brought no
small custom to the shop of the gallant coiffeur.
We had a large party at the table-d'hbte when we got back to
the hotel, at dinner-time; and, for aught that there was different
in the company or cooking, one might just as well have been in
France. Somewhat tired, I was not sorry to get to bed about
eight, but sleep was not just yet permitted, for a quantity of per
sons connected with the various steamers were having a private
dinner in the next room, and were becoming so very convivial,
that slumber was out of the question. So I sat awhile at the
window, looking at the moon on the Bosphorus and Golden Horn,
and hearing ray festive neighbours go through all the stages of a
man's dinner-party — first, proposing toasts, then speaking, then
singing, then doing funny things, then singing without being
listened to, then in chorus without knowing the tune, and flnally
differing in opinion and breaking up.
The lights in Stamboul disappeared, one after another, — for
there are no public lamps to raake raention of, — and tbe whole
of the city was soon as quiet as a country village, the silence be
ing only broken by the clang of the night-watchman's iron-shod
staff, as he made ii ring against the pavement, from time to time,
to proclaim his approach. On retiring to bed, I carried with me
the feeling of still being on the sea, and so appeared to be undij-
lating gently, with a sensation far raore disagreeable than the
reality. I was restless, too, with the recollection of my day's
sights, and after an hour's doze, I woke up again, and went and
sat by the window. Theifbise I then heard I shall never forget.
To say that if all the sheep-dogs going to Smithfleld on a mar
ket day had been kept on the constant bark, and pitted against
the yelping curs upon all the carts in London, they could have
given any idea of the caninauproar that now first astonished me,
would be to make the feeble^tenages. The whole city rang with
one vast riot. Down below me at Tophane^over at Stambo.ul —
far away at Scutari — the whole eighty thousand dogs that are
said to overrun Constantinople, appeared engaged in the most
active extermination of each other, without a moment's cessation.

A WALK THROUGH CONSTANTINOPLE.

461

The yelping, howling, bai-king, growling, and snarling, were all
merged into one uniform and continuous even sound, as the noise
of frogs becomes when heard at a distance. For hours there was
no lull. I went to sleep, and woke again ; and still with my
windows open, I heard the same tumult going on : nor was it until
daybreak, that any thing like tranquillity was restored. In
spite of my early instruction, that dogs delight to bark and bite,
and should be allowed to do so, it being their nature, I could
not help wishing that, for a short season, the power was vested
in me to carry out the most palpable service for which brickbats
and the Bosphorus could be made conjointly available.

CONSTANTINOPLE. 39*

THE JEWS OF EGYPT.
Egypt has always been a disagreeable dwelling-place for the
Jews. In no Eastern country have they been so ill-treated aud
oppressed. With the tenacious energy of their race, however,
they have clung to this land of task-masters, and, in spite of
every discouragement, have managed to maintain their ground in
respectable numbers. Some five or six thousand of them are to
be found congregated in Cairo and Alexandria, where from the
presence of the government, they are less liable to be annoyed
by the populace. It is rare to meet with them in country towns,
although a few are established both at Rosetta and Damietta. In
Cairo — their chief resort — they occupy a particular quarter,
which bears their name, and is considered one of the most curious
and characteristic in the whole city. It constitutes a perfect la
byrinth of narrow passages, sometimes dignified with the name
of streets. To obtain the best idea of its aspect, you must, on
leaving the neighbourhood of the Khal Khaleeleh to return to
wards the Mooski, keep a little to the right, instead of making
for the new street to the Citadel. You will thus soon find your
self making all sorts of turns •t right angles; and presently,
after traversing a batch of ruined houses, you will see before you
an alley having the most cut-throat appearance imaginable, into
which it is necessary, for prudential reasons, to urge your donkey
at reduced speed. The walls of the houses on each hand are
rarely more than three feet apart, which circumstance would of
itself almost account for the obscurity that prevails. In addi
tion, moreover, you must know that every front is covered with
a multiplicity of projecting windows, which sometimes touch the
opposite wall, so that it is only here and there that a few scanty
(4€2)

THE JEWS OF EGYPT. 463

gleams of light penetrate to the regions below. The street I
allude to is unusually straight, so that you can see at intervals
these little patches of dim light receding until the last is a mere
point. If there be any body moving along, you know the fact
simply by finding your view intercepted, for it is impossible to
distinguish any form. Some boldness is required in a perfect
stranger to venture alone into this cavernous aperture. How
ever, pride gets the upper hand, and in we go.
The air becomes at once cold and damp, and the eyes, at first
unaccustomed to the darknessj are of no assistance. You must
trust to the sagacity of the donkey, for the little boy behind is
a niere instrument of impulsion. Presently, however, you begin
to distinguish that the walls ou either hand are built of massive
stone, but that they have begun to give way and lean forward,
and exhibit enormous cracks and crevices. The doors are low,
and in general carefully closed. If they be ajar, you can only
see a sombre passage, with perhaps a little pale light coming
round a corner ; for it is a rule in all Eastern domestic architec
ture to make the entrance-corridor of a house to turn off at right
angles, in order to prevent the eye of a stranger from penetra
ting into the court, and obtaining by chance a glimpse of the
harem. Here and there dark alleys, or rather crevices, branch
off, in which, though rarely, you may see a few indistinct forms
of women and children flitting up and down ; but there is
nothing to tell you that you are traversing a quarter remarkable
for its riches; that within these gloomy, prison-like mansions
there are courts full of light and sunshine, adorned with foun
tains and creeping plants ; and that Israelitish taste has fitted up
many of the apartments in the most sumptuous style. This you
can only learn when a greater familiarity with the country
enables you to make the acquaintance of some shabby-looking
Jew, who, if you please him, may take you home and treat you
like a prince. As you ride along, you imagine you are in a
quarter smitten with poverty and distress ; and, not knowing the
internal arrangements of the houses, imagine it next to impossi
ble that human beings can exist in such an unventilated mass of

464 THE JEWS OF EGYPT.

buildings. Now and then you are disturbed in your reflections
by a distant hail, informing you that some other bold charac
ter is Sounding on hia dark and perilous way
through the Jewish quarter. This is a warning not to be disre
garded. It is necessary at once, if you wish to avoid a collision,
to flnd a place where the passage is a little wider than elsewhere,
and draw your donkey close up against the wall, in order to allow
the new-comer to squeeze by. Under the most favourable circum
stances, knees and stirrups often get entangled during this ope
ration, and sometimes abrasions and bruises take place. In a
crowded street in Europe it is not uncommon for two people in
a hurry to meet face to faee, and dance from side to side in the
utmost distress and confusion before they manage to pass by one
another. In the Jewish quarter of Cairo a scene similar in cha
racter may often be witnessed. If both wayfarers hail at the
same time, each selects at once a place of refuge, and comes to
a full stop, and each generally begins to move again at the same
time ; so that it is necessary at length to scream out at the top
of one's voice, and hold a long parley, before a proper under
standing is come to. Occasionally, in passing through these
unknown places, you stumble upon a woraan in the darkest and
narrowest spot. Instead of running on, they always halt, and
try, as it were, to squeeze into the wall. As you cannot turn
round and go back, you must force past, driving your knees
sometimes into the poor creature's side, however much you may
feel inclined to do otherwise. They often implore your forbear
ance by communicating some particulars as to their state ; and
I used not unfrequently to manage to cross my legs over the
donkey's neck, in order to avoid doing damage.
In some places the thoroughfares, which are by courtesy called
streets, are low, covered passages, more resembling sewers in ap
pearance than any thing else. Into these, I suppose, few Euro
peans ever penetrate. I once got off my donkey and crept in, in
a stooping posture. After one or two turns, I came to a small,
open space, where a number of Jewesses of the poorer class were

THE JEWS OF EGYPT. 465

squatting together, assisting one another in the duties of the toi
let, or, in other words, making a reciprocal examination of heads !
A great scream told ine that my intrusion was considered imper
tinent; so, for fear of consequences, I took to my heels, and
escaped with no other disaster than a bruise on my forehead,
which I owed to my prudent precipitation.
The business portions of this quarter are much more airy and
respectable in appearance ; but of course the Jews engaged in
trade do not all congregate. Their shops are dispersed in various
parts of the city. The occupations they especially follow are
those of merchants, bankers, money-lenders, money-changers,
jewellers, goldsmiths, provision-dealers, butchers, &c. In most
mercantile houses in Egypt there is a Jew employed to conduct
the small money transactions. Despite tbe bad estimation in
which they are held both among Moslems and Christians, they
are rather honest than otherwise, quite as rauch so at least as the
classes which despise and anathematize them. They return the
hatred awarded them with interest, and seem really to consider
themselves as a race infinitely superior in all the attributes of
humanity to those around them.
In personal appearance the Jews of Egypt are not prepossess
ing. Their features, it is true, are often finely formed; but they
are a down-looking, gloomy tribe, as might be expected from
the treatment they have so long experienced. Many of them
are fairer than the rest of the population, which may be accounted
for by their Syrian origin. It has been remarked that they are
frequently bloated in appearance, and are liable to sore eyes;
and some attribute the circumstance to the immoderate use of
sesame oil. Whether this be the case or not, certain it is that
this peculiarity in their cookery gives their persons a very un
pleasant odour, so that you may know a Jew in the dark. I
aught to add, that almost all the Eastern Jews I have seen are
very different in the type of their features from those of Europe ;
and that I do not remember the real Hebrew nose more than
ence — namely, on the face of a young money-changer in Alexan
dria, whose father rejoiced in a regular pug. The women, on the

466 THE JEWS OF EGYPT.

other hand, in as far as I have been able to ascertain, preserve a
very characteristic caste of countenance. They are often hand
some and well raade. Their mode of life and character resem
bles that of the Levantines, between whom and them, however,
there exists an insuperable antipathy. I knew an Almek woman
of this race, named Kalah, who gained her living by singing.
She had a very fine voice, so that, although she had but one eye,
was old, and had never been handsome, she was quite in vogue.
As is commonly the case now, however, she found it necessary
to add a knowledge of dancing to her accomplishments ; and I
have often beheld her with wonder and regret perform feats of
agility of which I could not previously believe the huraan body
capable. But Kalah's favourite occupation was singing : and
when she called, in passing, at the house where I resided, to ask
for a drink of water, she would often, of her own accord, take
np a darabukah, or tarabourine, and sing a snatch of sorae
one of those tender love-songs with which the Arabic language
abounds. It is the custom for the Jews in Egypt to celebrate very
strictly the Feast of the Tabernacle. During eight days they
forsake their rooms, and sleep in little cabins made of palm-leaves
on the terraces of their houses. (Is this the reason why ophthal
mia is frequent among them ?) Those who have no convenient
place for so doing are invited by their friends, so that on this oc
casion the roofs of the Jewish quarters are covered with a regu
lar encampment. The streets previously are absolutely filled
with camels laden with palm-branches, which fetch a handsome
price, for there is an eager demand for them. The Levantines
used to tell me that on the first day of this festival the Jews go
to the priest, and ask if it will be a good year. He oracularly
and gutturally answers, " Ch — ." If the year be good, he says,
" Did I not tell you ch — ?" meaning (cheir) good. But if it be
a bad year, he says, "Did I not tell you ch — ?" meaning (chara)
bad. This reminds me that a few years ago, when there was a great
drought in Egypt, the inundation of the Nile being unusually

THE JEWS OF EGYPT. 467

delayed, it struck the pasha that it would be wise to apply to all
the religious sects in his dominions for their intercessions with
Heaven. So all the heads of the Moslems, with all the Chris
tian priests, and all the Jewish Rabbins, followed by their con
gregations, went down to the brink of the water to pray. A good
deal of bigotry was exhibited on the occasion, and it was at
tempted to exclude the Jews; but the pasha, who was never very
orthodox, wisely determined that he would not throw away a sin
gle chance, as the safety of the whole crops of the country de
pended ou the result. He had reason to be amply satisfied; for
the Nile, in reality, rose two palms the next night, and continued
rapidly rising until there was a very good inundation.
Of late years, tho treatment of the Jews in Egypt has been
gradually becoming better and better. It was not, however,
until during the early part of my stay in the country, in the year
1846, that toleration was extended to them sufficiently to allow
of their burying their dead by day. It was only by moonlight
that they could hurry the remains of their departed friends
stealthily to the grave. No law, it is true forced them to this,
but only the bigotry of the population. On the few occasions
when they ventured to face the daylight, Moslems, Greeks, and
Levantines used to pelt the bier and its bearers with stones and
rubbish, and often to proceed to the most abominable excesses.
No one ever felt ashamed of such acts ; but, on the contrary,
they were considered meritorious; for there is no object on earth
which is regarded in the East as beneath a descendant of Abra
ham. This may be understood from the progression of their
terms of abuse — " ass, bull, dog, pig, Jew !"
Such was the state of public opinion when the death of Mer-
cado el Ghazi, the grand rabbin, happened. This was thought
by the Jewish community to be a good opportunity for taking
advantage of the growing toleration of the government; Mo
hammed All was absent from the country on his celebrated visit
to Constantinople ; but Ibrahim Pasha was at Cairo, and to him
application was made for two guards. The Sirasker had just re
turned from Europe, very little improved, it is true, but with

468

THE JEWS OF EGYPT.

some desire to merit the approbation of the civilized world. This
was a capital opportunity, because it enabled him to carry out at
the same time bis favourite system of intimidating and overawing
the people who were destined by fate, treaty, and the right of
the strongest, to be his most dutiful subjects. So he replied,
" Two guards ! — you ask only for two ! I will send my own
carriage, thirty eawasses, and^ a battalion of infantry ; the shops
on the whole line of procession shall be closed ; and woe be to
the man who lifts a stone that day !" What was said was done ;
the people murmured, but remained tranquil, and a bright ex
ample of toleration was manifested. It is worth knowing that
the greater part of the improvement which has taken place in
the conduct of Egyptians to foreigners and infidels is entirely
attributable to similar exertions of supreme power ; but it is a
gross mistake to suppose that, in as far as the government is
concerned, any thing has been done to soften the rancour of Mos
lem prejudice. Toleration is not to be instilled into a people by
force; and I doubt whether the good that might have been
done by increased intercourse with Europe, bas not been more
than counterbalanced by the envy and indignation excited by
the marked favour with which they are treated, and the privi
leges and immunities they enjoy.

A VISIT TO BOMBAY.
We left Aden on the 28th of July last, and for the greater
part of the passage, up to the 4th of July, we had favourable
weather, the monsoon accompanying us and driving us along
under reefed fore-sail and half steam, at the rate of about eight
knots an hour, a tremendous sea following us.
Our ship was long and low, and rolled heavily, having in our
voyage from Suez consumed the greater part of her fuel, which
the stores at Aden were not in a condition to replenish. The
south-west monsoon renders the whole western coast of India a
dangerous lee-shore, and to be caught on it, in thick weather, in
a steamer, without plenty of coal, is to find one's self in a very
serious predicament. That our captain thought so was very evi
dent. At two o'clock in the afternoon we had struck soundings
in fifty fathoms ; at four we were shoaling our water fast, with
wind increasing, sea running high, and the atmosphere so thick
that standing near the binnacle one could hardly see the funnel.
As the evening closed in, the captain became nervous. By seven
we had shoaled to sixteen fathoms. " I wish we could get a
glimpse of the lights," said he, forgetting that if we did — so
thick was the haze — they must have been under the jib-boom
end. The rain poured in torrents accompanied by tremendous
squalls from the south-south-west. " You had better ease the
steam, Mr. Jones," said he to the first lieutenant, " and round
her to for the night." — " Aye, aye !" down went the helm, and
instead of wearing ; which would have been the more prudent
course, the vessel was thus brought head to wind. During this
operation, a heavy sea struck the starboard paddle-box and swept
the deck, rushing in formidable cascades down the main hatch
into the engine-room, and very nearly extinguishing the fires.
40 (469)

470 A VISIT TO BOMBAY.

The steam generated by so much water coming in contact with
the blazing furnaces, rolled up the hatchway in volumes of white
vapour, which, in the darkness of the night, made us all fancy
that some terrible explosion had taken place below ; the same
sea inundated the cabin, and fairly drove all its inmates on deck.
A general impression prevailed that the ship was going down ;
which was not a little aided by a succession of heavy seas, into
which she plunged, and dipped, and rolled in a very alarming
manner. The change, from going before the gale to breasting it,
was most extraordinary ; the force and fury of the wind — although
in reality no greater than before — seemed increased tenfold, and
it was nearly half an hour before we got our head off shore.
We then cast the lead ; and finding only eight fathoms, the cap
tain decided on deepening our water, and for this purpose it was
necessary to get up our full steam. This, after the thorough
drenching of the engine room, was no easy matter. However,
in about half an hour, she was got under the most steam we could
raise ; and we then began to breast the opposing billows at the
rate of about two knots an hour.
For the previous three days we had had no observation, and
we were therefore doubtfur of our latitude. It was impossible
for us to say whether we were to the northward or southward of
our port. In this uncertainty we passed the night, the gale in
creasing, and the sea high in proportion. Our ship being light,
rolled gunwale under, and occasionally shipped green seas " over
all " — as the sailors term it — which gave all us landsmen no tri-
fiing alarm. As the day broke, a change took place for the bet
ter ; and, ere the sun had risen, a range of hills was seen on our
port-beam, showing their rugged outline clear and distinct against
the gleam of the dawn. On making the land out, we ran towards
it, in order to identify the locality, and soon discovered that we
were about thirty miles to the southward of Bombay, off a place
called Chowl. We therefore shaped our course for the harbour,
and ere long caught a glimpse of the floating Lights and station
ary Light-house, situated at the entrance of Bombay Harbour,

^J^--^.i

1
''j/;i

P. 471.

A VISIT TO BOMBAY. 471

By seven o'clock we were at anchor off the dock-yard of
Bombay. Few people in England are aware of the beauty of Bombay
Harbour. I know of no port that equals it, except Rio Janeiro,
which is not only more extensive and more picturesque, but more
landlocked. In heavy g-ales from the south-south east, Bombay
Harbour is entirely unprotected; and in 1837, several large ships
were stranded and lost in a hurricane from that quarter. For
tunately, such occurrences are rare : and, up to the present year,
no similar event has taken place.
Let us now step ashore, at the steps of the Apollo bunder,
amongst a throng of native boats and a crowd of native boatmen,
whose discordant cries and yells recall vividly the chaotic confu
sion of Babel. From natives of every country, and every isle of
the countless archipeligos, these unintelligible sounds proceeded.
They w5re vociferated in tones that put to shame the garrulous
noisiness of Billingsgate, Naples or Lisbon, probably tho three
most noisy stairs in Europe. Once on the bunder, or pier — a
roomy, commodious landing place, armed with half-a-dozen long
fifty-six pounders — I jumped into a friend's Brougham ; and in
twenty minutes, find myself on the top of Malabar Hill in a villa,
or bungalow, abounding with every comfort compatible with the
climate of this latitude. The view frora this spot^-which is one
hundred and twenty feet above the bay below — is extensive und
picture.sque, and presents a faint resemblance to that of Naples
from Posilipo. At this time of the year the heat is great, but
much modified by tbe strong south-west wind, which, however,
bears so much moisture on its wings, as to make the whole islanti
one vast vapour bath.
A drive through the ill-constructed streets of the fort and na
tive town is one of the raost interesting that can be conceived.
The houses are slenderly built, but from their gay and bright
colouring, and their great irregularity, offer many tempting bits
for an artist. Nearly all the shops are without windows; and
here may be seen in unlimited profusion, not only tbe piece goods,
hardware, woollens, and crockery of Europe, but all the countless

472 A VISIT TO BOMBAY.

productions of the gorgeous East, in endless variety. In one ara
exposed the vivid and tasteful tapestries of Persia, with the
gilded bottles, inlaid hubble-bubbles, amber mouth-pieces, and
silver-mounted hookahs of that country : in another, the rich
silks, the splendid toys, and cool mats of China ; in another, the
carpets of Cabool and Herat, the gold-mounted sabres of Beloo-
chistan, and the embroidered shawls of Delhi and Cashmere ; in
another, the gorgeous Kincaubs, brocades, and tissues of Surat ;
here, a keen-eyed shroff, or native banker, sits cross-legged, en
throned on bags of gold, silver, and copper coin ; there, a lusty
Banian is enveloped in half open sacks, and dishes of every sort
of grain. In one quarter are piled ponderous bales of Manches
ter, Glasgow, and Leeds manufactures ; in another, the ware
houses groan with wooden chests of opium, camphor, spices, and
other odouriferous commodities ; among which, the odious assa-
foetida fails not to assert its disagreeable superiority.
The population is as varied as the articles exposed for sale, and
a crowded street presents to tbe eye as florid and brilliant a whole
as a bed of tulips. Were another Paul Veronese to arise to de
light the world with bis many-hued productions, what a field
would Bombay present to his pencil ! It was said of him, with
truth, that he painted not with ordinary colours, but with tints
derived from the diamond, the emerald, the ruby, and the sap
phire; and in painting the costumes of Bombay, those vivid
colours would be indispensable. The Oriental, with few excep
tions, dresses with taste and elegance : the Hindoo, in his spot
less vest of the purest white, with his turban of crimson, scarlet,
or yellow ; the Mussulman, with equally clean vestments, but
with turban of a soberer dye ; the Parsee, in his crimson cap,
which, without being picturesque, is striking; the Affghan,
with his flowing ringlets, sable beard, and fair complexion;
tbe Persian, in his robe of striped silk and-Astracan lamb
skin cap; the swarthy Arab, in his head-dress of flowing
silk, with long and pendant fringe; the Scindian, in his
becoming' cap, that gives every peasant the air of a prince;
the diminutive Malay, in his national costume ; the quaint

A VISIT TO BOMBAY. 473

Chinese in his broad-brimmed straw hat, — all throng the
thoroughfares in perfect independence of the tyrant fashion;
whieh in European cities clips the wings of exuberant taste,
and reduces the whole population to one sombre and monotonous
hue. The brilliant rays of a midday sun show all those irides
cent tints to great advantage, and no collection of butterflies sur
passes the denizens of Bombay in variegated splendour. A few
squalid half-naked figures are, of course, to be seen among
this motley crowd ; but the general effect is hardly marred by
their intrusion. However various in race and appearance, one
sole and single object animates this moving mass; one sole and
single idea occupies their thoughts : acquisition and retention of
money. They are all traders. No Oriental, having once amassed
money, sits down to enjoy it quietly. No such thing as retiring
from business is known or thought of Enormous fortunes have
been accumulated in Bombay by trade, and so keen is commercial
ardour, that it generally devours all the other passions of exis
tence. The opium trade with China has been one fruitful source
of wealth to tbe Bombay merchant, and the immense riches at
tributed to the Parsee knight, Sir Jamatjee Jeejeebpoy, are en
tirely derived from it. He has made a noble use of his money ;
and the public establishments suggested by his philanthropy,
erected by his bounty, and endowed by his munificence, proclaim
loudly to the world, not only his unbounded command of money,
but his splendid application of it. He is reported to have given
away, within the last ten years, upwards of two hundred and
fifty thousand pounds sterling to works of permanent utility. I
know no recorded example of similar generosity, during life, in
any individual in Europe.
The Parsees are perhaps the most energetic, enterprising,- and
speculating people in the East. Generally connected with some
European mercantile house as brokers, in the first instance, they
accumulate considerable sums, whioh subsequently have, in
many instances, been applied to save their employers from ruin.
- The Parsee community may consist of about fifty thousand, al
most all of whom are engaged in trade and manufactnres. A
40*

474 A VISIT TO BOMBAY.

few go out to service as coachmen and butlers, but not one is to
be met with either in the army or the police force. Next in in
telligence to the Parsees come the Hindoos, who outnumber them
sixfold. Education is making great strides amongst this class,
and the literature of the West is fast superseding the fables of
the East. The Brahmins in Bombay are falling rapidly into
disrepute, and the true theories of material philosophy are
taking the place of the senseless doctrines of their ancestors.
As their minds became enlightened, the Hindoos naturally and
necessarily abandon the faith of their fathers ; for which, how
ever, they decline to substitute the mysteries of Christianity.
Next in number to the Hindoos stand the followers of Mahomet,
who, however, are any thing but unanimous in^their doctrines.
The Sheeah, the Soornee, the Khojah, the Mehmon, the Borah,
the Mussulman from the Deccan, and he from the Konkan, have
all some distinctive Shibboleth, but agree in the two great points
of Mahometanism — the unity of God, and the truth of Ma
homet's mission as his prophet.
The Portuguese or native Christians form a considerable por
tion of the population of Bombay; thousands of temporary
sojourners add variety even to this variegated mass. Armenians,
Jews, Persians, Scindians, Affghans, Beloochees, Cashmerians,
Bengalese, Madrassees, Chinese, Malays, Arabs, are to be met
with at every turn. The rich Parsees, Hindoos, and Mussulmans
drive about in very elegant equipages, chiefiy procured from Lon
don or Liverpool ; for the art of carriage-building is not, as in
Calcutta, one of those brought to perfection in Bombay. The
English settled here are a mere handful in point of numbers,
although they are the motive and regulating power of the whole
of the other machinery. They consist exclusively of temporary
residents, members of the two services, civil and military, of the
law, or of the mercantile profession. No settler or colonist is to
be found here. All hope to lay their bones in England, and,
with this feeling predominant in every English breast, it is clear
that not much permanent interest for India can be entertained by
this class.

A VISIT TO BOMBAY. 475

The mode of life amongst the English gentry is very pleasant.
An early ride before the sun has risen high enough to be annoy
ing; the indispensable cold bath; a substantial breakfast at nine ;
tiffin or luncheon at two, for those who like it ; and dinner at
half-past seven, before which a ride or a drive for a couple of
hours serves to dissipate the vapours of office work — form the
usual routine of existence. Where no one is idle, there is, of
course, small time left for literary pursuits, and the lassitude in
duced by the climate renders it next to impossible to read or
write after dinner. Reading is consequently much limited to the
ephemeral productions of the daily press. This, for India, is
on rather an extensive scale, since there are no fewer than three
morning journals, conducted with much spirit and vigour.
Parell, the Governor's residence, is a spacious and handsome
edifice, with no pretensions to architectural beauty, but imposing
from its magnitude. It contains excellent private apartments,
besides a magnificent suite of reception rooms. A ball here in
January or February, when every body is at the Presidency, is
like a costume ball. Ladies dressed in the height of fashion,
men in uniforms of every gradation of splendour, a superb mili
tary band, rooms illuminated in a manner that shames the feeble
efforts of a London wax-chandler, the finest fiowers (such as are
only to be procured in England from hot-houses) in the most
luxuriant profusion, constituting the leading features of those
very agreeable parties. Such scenes are not, however, confined
to Government House. The Byculla Club occasionally lends its
magnificent saloon to this sort of reunion : and the other day
the Bachelors gave a sumptuous soiree in the grand and classic
saloon of the Town Hall ; besides which the leading members of
society here are continually giving agreeable dances. Thus,
here, as elsewhere, we try to cheat existence of its sombre hue,
and to give it a varnish of hilarity not quite consistent with its
natural tones. The rooms here are, in general, large and lofty,
and the profusion of wax lights is on these occasions, quite daz
zling. Nothing can exceed the tedium of a formal Bombay din
ner. Tables groaning with Brummagem imitations of splendour.

476 A VISIT TO BOMBAY.

and dishes redolent of the strong and greasy compositions of
Portuguese cooks ; guests thrown together, in numerous confu
sion, without reference to acquaintanceship or similarity of
tastes or habits; fifty or sixty people seated at an immense
table resembling a table d'hote in all except the goodness of its
dishes, with a servant behind every chair. This is a picture of
a Bombay dinner.
The Fine Arts are unknown in Bombay, A gaudy-coloured
lithograph would be here as much esteemed as a Titian or a Ra
phael ; and, I fear, the want of taste is not confined to the
native inhabitants, Europeans come out so young, so partially
educated, and with their ideas on the subject of Art so little de
veloped, that they remain for the rest of their lives as much
children in this respect as when they first arrived. I remember
once accompanying two Indian friends through the gallery of
the Pitti Palace. Their admiration was wholly given to the
worst pictures and the worst statues. An artist here would
starve ; and although the Hindoos have a taste for sculpture
their efforts are confined to the grotesque. This is extraordi
nary, when we refiect that the human figure in its most beautiful
proportions is constantly displayed to them. Some of the men
from Hindostau — who go by the name of Purdasees, or foreign
ers — are the most superb models for a sculptor that can be con
ceived, 'the woraen, too, throw their drapery about them in the
most elegant folds, and a group of Hindoo girls at a well is per
haps the most artistic combination that could be desired. Yet
these pass unnoticed and unadmired, except perhaps, by an oc
casional amateur, whose other avocations leave him little time
to note or perpetuate the graceful scene. We are apt to imagine
that the Greeks derived their superiority in the Fine Arts from
their constant familiarity with the finest forms, in battles and
wrestling places in the forum, the agora or the hippodrome. Yet
these could only have been occasional opportunities compared with
those offered daily in the streets of Bombay. The genius of Ma
hometanism is opposed to the imitation of the human figure, either
in painting or sculpture ; but Hindoo temples abound with exam-

A VISIT TO BOMBAY. 477

pies of both. How is it, then, that Art should be here at a lower
ebb in the nineteenth century than it even was in Egypt I Even in
architecture the taste of the Hindoos is vicious and trivial to a great
extent; great labour and expense are frittered away in the most
tasteless attempts at ornament, and not a single Hindoo monument
of architectural science is to be seen in or near Bombay. The same
may be said of the Parsees, none of whom, even the richest,
possesses a painting worth five shillings, although their rooms are
crowded with chandeliers, lustres, mirrors, and gilding, of the
most expensive character, and all procured from London, which,
if desired, could furnish their magnificent saloons with exquisite
pictures, bronzes, and statues, at a very moderate expense. Taste
may perhaps arise after another half-century of education, but at
present it finds no resting-place to the eastward of the Cape.
One only good picture is to be seen here, a large whole length
portrait of Queen Victoria, by Wilkie. This is in the possession
of the Parsee Knight, and was made a present to him by the late
Sir Charles Forbes.
The Town Hall, which contains the library of the Bombay
branch of the Royal Asiatic Society, is rich in three magnificent
works of Chantrey. These are colossal statues of Mount Stewart
Elphinstone, Sir John Malcolm, and Sir Charles Forbes ; the two
former in his best manner. This building is, perhaps, the finest
specimen of English taste in India. It is in the Doric style,
vast and well proportioned, though a little ponderous.
The trade of Bombay is extensive and important, the imports
and exports each reaching on an average nearly ten millions
sterling. By far the greater part of this traffic is conducted on
commission, the majority of the houses here being merely commis
sion agents. A large proportion of the trade with China and other
Eastern countries is in the hands of natives ; that with England
and Europe chiefly, if not entirely, in English and German firms.
There is not a single French house of agency here. Taking the
profits on these twenty millions at eight per cent., which I fancy
every house of agency expects as its share, we have here one mil
lion eight hundred thousand pounds to be distributed amongst the

478 A VISIT TO BOMBAY.

mercantile community, some of the leading members of which
must be annually realizing very large sums. There is not, how
ever, much appearance or show of wealth amongst the cotton
lords here, who, generally speaking, live in a very modest quiet
way. The great staple of export is raw cotton — the great staple
of import the same cotton manufactured.
It is singular that so few indigenous Indian horses should exist.
Those employed in our regular cavalry and horse artillery are in
variably either Arab or Persian ; the former small, active, and of
perfect symmetry ; the latter, larger and more powerful, but with
less activity, and far less beauty. A well-bred Arab has small
ears, wide and square forehead, jowl and cheekbones wide
apart; eye bright and large; nostril open, angular, and trans
parent; nether lip pendulous; skin of a smooth silky texture;
fore-hand fine ; shoulder not very high, but very oblique ; joints
large, angular, and well-knit. The back sinew of the fore-leg
remarkably large, and standing out well from the leg-bone, pas
tern rather long, hoof hard, and crust rather high; barrel round;
hips wide, tail set on high; buttock square, thigh muscular,
hock large and free from fiesh ; tail fine at the extremity like
that of a greyhound ; temper mild and equable ; height seldom
exceeding fourteen hands two inches. This is the Arab horse
of good blaod, and of sueh about two thousand are imported an
nually into Bombay, chiefly frora Bussorah. Of course, all do
not answer this description, which comprises almost every desira
ble quality of shape and make to be found in this quadruped.
Their speed is good, but not equal to our English blood ; a mile
in one hundred and twelve seconds being about the utmost they
can come up to. In England the same distance has often been
performed in eighty seconds by our best blood. The average
speed of an Arab is, however, much greater than that of the ordi
nary ruu of Engli,sh horses, not thorough-bred. The price of an
Arab here is high ; young, sound, and of good blood, with power
to carry twelve or thirteen stone. Such a horse cannot be bought
at the stables for less than one thousand or twelve hundred ru
pees. The trade is in the hands of Parsee brokers, four or five

A VISIT TO BOMBAY. 479

Ot whom keep stables, capable of containing from three to four
hundred horses each. On each sale they realize thirty-two rupees,
seventeen from the buyer and fifteen from the seller, irrespective
of the value of the horse. It follows, therefore, that as these
brokers generally dispose of five or six hundred horses each, an
nually, they must realize large profits, besides that which they
derive from the horses standing at livery.
Another article of commerce consists of pearls, also from the
Persian Gulf The Arabs bring these down in December or
January, and return before tbe monsoon sets in, carrying home
in exchange large quantities of Manchester and Yorkshire
goods. Of these orient gems a large proportion is unsuited to the
European markets, being of a yellowish golden lustre, and not
of that pure white so much desiderated at home. The natives
do not despise them for this, and in my eye — which ever delighted
in the rich Venetian tone of colour, in preference to the cold tints
of Rome or Florence — I must say they lose nothing by this
golden hue. The opulent here of every caste possess vast hoards
of these treasures of the deep ; with which, on gala days, they
delight to deck their children and wives. A considerable por
tion of each wealthy native's riches consists in jewelry, but for
the most part the stones are badly set and badly cut. Size, irre
spective of symmetry or water, is much coveted, and the conse
quence is that no where are so many indifferent jewels treasured
up as here.
Magnitude and profusion are the rules of native taste in the
precious stones on this side of India, which possesses none of the
skill or science evinced by the jewellers and lapidaries of Agra
and Delhi, or even by those in the Madras Presidency. Orna
ments of pure and massive gold distinguish the less opulent,
many of whom carry about their persons their whole wealth.
An immense quantity of the precious metals is lost to circulation
by this propensity, which probably may trace its origin to habits.
engendered by long years of turbulence and warfare, when no
safe investment of capital existed. Even now it is difficult to

480 A VISIT TO BOMBAY.

persuade a native of the advantage held out by a Government
savings bank in preference to a gold chain or bangle, the ready
and ever-available resources of which are, to his mind, more easily
realizable than those offered by the signature of a bank secre
tary. A well informed native has assured me that he has reason
to believe that not less than five crores of rupees, or five millions
sterling, is invested in gold and silver ornaments in Bombay.
Certain it is that nowhere have I seen so universal a diffusion of
these ornaments as here. The commonest cooley has his gold
ear-ring ; the meanest artizan his amulet of gold, or his waist-
belt of silver — ^probably both. Should Bombay ever be laid under
contribution by a French line-of-battle ship) and one such would
be sufficient for the purpose), the bushels of golden ornaments
that might be collected in a couple of hours would exceed ten
fold the knightly spoils of the field of Cannae.
No place in the world is more open to a marauding enemy
than Bombay. The defences towards the sea are contemptible,
and half-an-hour's bombardment would destroy the Fort, the
crowded houses of which are built up to within a few feet of
the ramparts, where, in case of conflagration, no men could stand
to their guns. Without the aid of some heavy men-of-war,
Bombay might be sacked and burned in an hour, and no vestige
left of its pristine prosperity. I don't know whether foreign rulers
are aware of its insecurity; but there is certainly, at present,
nothing to prevent the approach of a hostile line-of-battle ship,
and when arrived, nothing to prevent her from laying the place
in ashes, or under contribution, as might best suit her views.
The great importance of Bombay, as the key of communication
between the upper provinces of India and England, as the em
porium of the cotton trade, as the great entrepot of the Man
chester, Glasgow, and Yorkshire goods, as the seat of a most ex
tensive and efficient naval dock-yard, and as the capital of Wes
tern India, ought to direct attention to this state of things ; for
the place at present is as defenceless as Southampton, and still
more accessible; for the heaviest line-of-battle ship could lie
within two hundred yards of the Custom House, the Treasury,

A VISIT TO BOMBAY. 481

and the mint. So large a population, such extensive wealth, and
so important interests, ought to demand the most serious atten
tion of the authorities to their insecure state ; for a blow once
struck home would be irreparable.
A sketch of Bombay would be imperfect without a notice of
the railroad now in progress, and which is fondly thought by
many will be the forerunner of a host of others, that are to
bring the most distant cities of India within a few hours of each
other. It is very nearly completed as far as Tannah, tbe north
ernmost point of Salsette ; and it is progressing thence towards
Gallian, in the Northern Konkan. Thence, it is hoped that
eventually it will be carried farther into the interior, and that
the Ghauts will be surmounted, so as to bring tbe traffic
of the Deccan and Khandeish within its grasp, and thus,
in a great measure, remedy the crying evil of India — the want
of internal communications. The projectors, on calculations
which are understood to have been well considered, anticipate
large profits. The East India Company has acted wisely in so
far complying -with the exigencies of tbe times as to yield grace
fully to the clamour for a railroad. Its real importance or value
will never be understood in England ; and it is a good tub to
throw to the whale on the approaching discussions on the charter.

41

MADAME PFEIFFER AT TAHITI.
Madame Ida Pfeiffer, of Vienna, a lady, favourably known
to the reading public of Germany as the pleasant narrator of a
Pilgrimage to the Holy Land, and of various Tours in different
parts of Europe, has recently published an account of her Tra
vels round the World. In her preface, she states that an uncon
trollable desire to travel, and to see distant and little known re
gions, impelled her to undertake the bold enterprise, the details
of which are now recorded in three little volumes, entitled
" A Lady's Travels round the World." In the course of so ex
tensive a circuit, much that is curious and interesting must have
presented itself to an intelligent observer like Madame Pfeiffer.
We subjoin, with some abridgement, her account of Tahiti and
its inhabitants.
It may be well to premise, that until lately Tahiti was under
the protection of England, but it is now transferred to France.
The island was long an object of dispute between the Govern
ments of both nations ; but in November, 1846, peace was con
cluded. Queen Pomare, who during the interval of contention,
fled to another Island, had returned to Papeiti, one of the chief
cities, a few weeks before Madame Pfeiffer arrived there. Her
abode was a small house containing only four rooms, and she
dined every day at the residence of the Governor. A suitable
abode is now being built for the Queen, by the French Govern
ment, from which Her Majesty receives a pension of twenty-flve
thousand francs per annum.
Papeiti, the port, is surrounded by coral-reefs, which defend
it like the outworks of a fortress, and render its entrance at
once difficult and dangerous. Between the rocks, against
which th^ billows break with frightful force, a very narrow open-
(482)

MADAME PFEIFFER AT TAHITI. 483

ing barely affords sufficient room for the passage of ships. On
our approach, says Madame Pfeiffer, a pilot came out to us, and,
in spite of a very adverse wind, we succeeded in working our
way safely into the harbour. After we had landed, we were
congratulated on our lucky escape; the people who were anxiously
watching our entrance assured us that at one moment we were
nearly struck ou a coral bank — an accident which had a short
time previously befallen a French vessel.
Before we cast anchor, we observed sorae half-dozen Pirogues
making towards us ; and in the space of a few minutes our deck
was thronged with Indians, who nimbly climbed up to the ship's
sides to offer us fruit and shell-fish. But these luxuries are not
now, as they were in Captain Cook's time, obtained in exchange for
glass beads and bits of red cloth. They are to be had for money
only ; and our Tahitian visitors showed us that they knew how to
drive bargains and extort high prices as well as the most prac
tised hucksters of Europe. I presented to one of the Indians a
ring made of some kind of gilt metal. He took it; and after
smelling it, shook his head, giving me to understand that he
knew it was not made of gold. Observing a ring on my finger,
he took my hand, and whilst he smelt the ring, a pleasant smile
that lighted up his features seemed expressive of a request that
I would give it to him.
We found Papeiti (on the 25th of April, 1847,) full of French
troops, and several French ships were lying in the harbour. The
town, which contains between three and four thousand inhabi
tants, consists briefly of a range of wooden houses with gardens
extending along the shore.' A noble forest, crowning a range of
hills, forms the background of the scene, and here and there on
tho upland are scattered many small huts.
The only buildings of any commodious size, are the Governor's
house, the French magazine, the military bakehouse (whence
the barracks are supplied with bread), and the Queen's residence,
not yet completed. Many little wooden houses, containing only
one room, had been hastily constructed, to supply the demand
for dwelling places, which, when I was there, were so scarce,

484 MADAME PFEIFFER AT TAHITI.

that French officers of rank were glad to take up their quarters
in wretched Indian huts.
I looked about in vain for a lodging. Nowhere could I flnd a
single room to let : and at length I was fain to content myself
with part of a room — in short, literally a corner. This accom
modation I found in a hut, occupied by a carpenter, his wife,
and two children. A space about six feet in length, and four in
width, was allotted to me behind the door. The floor was not
boarded, and the walls were formed of staccadoes and palisades.
There was neither bedstead nor chair ; and yet for this lodging
I was obliged to pay very exorbitantly.
The hut of a Tahitian Indian frequently has no walls, and
consists merely of a roofing of palm-leaves supported on poles.
Even those better sort of huts, which have palisadoed walls, are
not divided into compartments ; all comprise only one room, the
dimensions of which usually vary from twenty to fifty feet in
length, and from ten to thirty in breadth. The whole furniture
consists of mats of plaited straw, some coverings for beds, a few
wooden chests, and possibly one or two jointed stools : the latter,
however, rank among superfiuities. Of cooking utensils or appa
ratus, the Indians possess none. Their food is all baked in stone
ovens. The stones are heated, and the meat is put into the oven
without any dish. At table, one knife suffices for a whole party ;
and a cocoa-nut shell serves as a basin to contain water for their
drink. The missionaries who have successively resided here
during the last fifty years, have wrought a change in the
dress of the natives, especially those in the neighbourhood of
Papeiti. Still, however, their costume is sufficiently characteristic of
savage life. Both men and women wear a garment called the
pareo ; it is a sort of petticoat made of coloured cloth, and fas
tened round the waist by a band. By the women it is worn long
enough to descend to the ankles ; but the men have it much
shorter, reaching only to the knee. The men wear a short shirt
of coloured cotton over the pareo, and under it they frequently
have loose trowsers. The upper garment of the women is a sort

MADAME PFEIFFER AT TAHITI. 485

-if long full blouse. Both sexes wear flowers in their ears instead
of ear-rings, the hole in the lobe of the ear being bored suffi
ciently large to admit of flower stalks being easily drawn through
it. The Tahitian woraen, old as well as young, adorn themselves
profusely with flowers and foliage, of which they form very
tasteful wreaths and bouquets. I also frequently saw men wear
ing wreaths round their heads. On holidays and other festive occa
sions, they wear, in addition to their ordinary dress, an upper
garment called the tiputa. This is made of a material of their
own manufacture, prepared from the bark of the bread-fruit and
cocoa-nut trees. The bark, when newly stripped from the tree,
is beat and pressed with stones until it becomes as thin as paper ;
after which it is coloured yellow and brown.
I visited a little wooden building used as a place of worship.
It was thronged by Indians, all of whom had been converted to
Christianity. They called themselves Protestants; but, of the
faith they professed they knew nothing but the name. Before
entering the house of prayer they all divested themselves of
their floral ornaments, with which they again decorated them
selves on departing. Some of the women wore black satin
blouses ; others, who were resolved on being particularly fine,
appeared in bonnets — ^gay creations of Parisian millinery, of a
fashion which has been obsolete for at least half-a dozen years.
It is impossible to conceive the ludicrous effect produced by the
broad, fiat faces of these Tahitian belles, under their fantastically
shaped bonnets.
Whilst the psalms were being sung, an air of devotion per
vaded the congregation, many of whom joined in the singing
with tolerable correctness; but during the delivery of the ser
mon, the clergyman was listened to with the utmost indifference.
The children were engaged in playing, quarrelling, and eating ;
and of the grown-up portion of the assembly, those who were not
gossiping were sound asleep. I was assured that most of the
natives are able to read, and that many of them can write ; but,
during worship in the church, I saw only two individuals (aged
men) make use of their bibles. 41*

486 MADAME PFEIFFER AT TAHITI.

The Tahitians are tall in stature, and strongly made. Men
of six feet high are by no means uncommon. The women are
likewise tall, and, in general, very stout. The men are decidedly
handsomer than the women. Both sexes are alike remarkable
for beautiful white teeth, and fine dark eyes ; all have very large
mouths, thick lips, and broad, flat noses ; the latter are so highly
admired, that, as soon as an infant is born, it is customary to
press down the cartilages of the nose, in order to give to the
feature the broad, flat form which is an indispensable condition
of Tahitian beauty. Both men and women have long black
hair, which hangs down their backs in one or two thick plaits.
The complexion of these islanders is copper colour. Nearly all
of them are tattoed on the lower limbs ; but the hands, feet,
and all other parts of the body are free of these ornaments. The
figures employed in this tattooing, chiefly arabesques, are fre
quently executed with much artistic taste.
The Governor of Tahiti, M. Bruat, made arrangements for
some grand public festivities on the first of May, in honour of
the fete of Louis Philippe. In the forenoon, a sham sea-fight
was got up under the superintendence of the sailors belonging
to the French ships in the port. This being ended, the specta
tors adjourned to a meadow to witness feats of agility, exhibited
by some of the natives in climbing a Maypole. At the summit
of this pole coloured handkerchiefs and other trifies were the
prizes won, to those who were lucky enough to reach them. At
noon the principal native chiefs were invited to a grand feast
prepared for them on the lawn fronting the Governor's house.
The banquet consisted of salt meat, bacon, bread, roasted pigs,
and fruits of various kinds. But the guests instead of sitting
down, as was expected they would, to partake of the delicacies
provided for them, divided the whole into portions, and each car
ried his share home with him. In the evening there were fire
works, illuminations, and ball.
I was present at this ball, and was vastly amused and inte
rested. The assembled company exhibited the most ludicrous
contrast of art and nature. Elegant Parisian ladies were seated

MADAME PFEIFFER AT TAHITI. 487

side by side, with coarse, swarthy, native females ; and French
staff officers, in full uniform, might be seen holding conversation
with half-naked Indians. Several of the natives, desirous of
making a particularly elegant appearance on this occasion, wore
loose white trousers ; others had no other clothing than the
pareo and the loose shirt over it. One of the chiefs, arrayed in
this costume, was a most pitiable object; he was perfectly
crippled by elephantiasis. On the occasion of this ball I saw
Queen Pomare for the first time. Her figure is tall and stout,
but very well formed. She is thirty-six years of age, but fresh
and blooming ; and I have observed that the women of Tahiti
retain their youthful appearance to a raore advanced period of
life than the women of other warm climates. The countenance
of Queen Pomare is pleasing, and is almost continually animated
by a good-humoured smile. She wore a robe of azure-blue satin,
made very full, and somewhat in the form of a blouse. It was
trimmed with rich black blonde, set on in double rows. In her
ears she wore sprigs of jasmin, and a profusion of flowers were
wreathed in her hair. In her hand she held a beautifully
worked cambric handkerchief, trimmed with very rich, broad lace.
On that evening she wore stockings and shoes ; but Her Majesty,
on ordinary occasions, goes barefooted. I was informed that the
dress worn by Queen Pomare at this ball was' a present from
King Louis Philippe.
The Queen's Consort, who is somewhat younger than herself,
is exceedingly handsome. The French have surnamed him,
"Prince Albert of Tahiti," not only on account of his good
looks, but because like Prince Albert in England, he is
not the King regnant. At the ball he appeared in the
uniform of a French General officer, and wore it with tolerable
grace. Besides Queen Pomare and her Consort, there was another
royal personage in the company. This was King Otoume, the
sovereign of one of the neighbouring islands. He was dressed
in the most comical style imaginable. He wore a pair of white
trousers very wide and short. Over his other garments was a

488 MADAME PFEIFFER AT TAHITI.

kind of surtout, made of cotton of a bright canary colour. It
had evidently been made in imitation of a European coat; but
its shape and style of fltting proclaimed it to be a production of
native genius, rather than the handiwork of a Parisian tailor.
The king was bare-footed.
The Queen's ladies in waiting, four in number, were dressed
in blouses of white muslin. They also had flowers for ear orna
ments, and wreaths in their hair. Their manners and deport
ment were not devoid of grace. These young ladies danced
quadrilles with some of the French officers ; but it was painful
to see them dance with their bare feet ; and I was continually
apprehensive that their toes would be trodden on by their part
ners' boots. Except the Queen and her Consort, none of the
natives had shoes or stockings. A few of the more elderly
females wore faded old-fashioned bonnets for head-dresses; and
several young mothers were accompanied by their children — even
infants in arms.
A short time before supper was announced, the Queen with
drew into an adjoining apartment to smoke a cigar; and whilst
her Majesty was thus engaged, her Consort amused himself by
a game at billiards.
At supper, I had the honour of sitting between Prince Albert
of Tahiti, and the canary-coloured King of Otoume. Both were
sufficiently initiated in the rules of good breeding to show me
such ordinary marks of attention as fllling my glass with water
or with wine, helping me to the dishes near them. It was evident
that they took vast pains to imitate European manners. Never
theless, some of the guests now and then committed themselves.
by doing the most extraordinary things. The Queen herself,
having desired an attendant to bring her a plate, placed upon it
a large assortment of sweetmeats and dainties, which her Ma
jesty selected for the purpose of carrying home with her. It
was also found necessary to check several of her company in
their too copious libations of champaigne ; but, on the whole,
the party, though exceedingly merry, was tolerably decorous.
I subsequently dined several times with the Royal Family at

MADAME PFEIFFER AT TAHITI. 489

the residence of the Governor. On these occasions, the Queen,
as well as her husband, appeared in the national costume — the
coloured pareo, and the loose upper garment ; both were bare
footed. The heir to the throne, a boy of nine years of age, is
already betrothed to the daughter of a neighbouring king. The
future bride, who is two or three years older than the prince,
resides at the court of Queen Pomare. She has been brought
up in the Christian religion, and has been taught the English
language. Tati, the principal native chief of the island, who had come to
the port to be present at the festivities on the flrst of May, was
now about to return, with his family, to his residence at Papara;
and a French officer, who was to escort the chief, proposed that
I should join the party. To this proposition I very readily ac
ceded ; and on the 4th of May we embarked in a sailing-boat
along the coast of Papara, a distance of thirty-six nautical miles.
Tati, the chief, a venerable old man, ninety years of age, per
fectly well remembered the landing of Captain Cook. His
father, at that time first chief of the island, formed a close
friendship with Cook ; and, in conformity with a custom
then prevalent in Tahiti, he changed names with the English
navigator. Tati receives from the French Government an annual pension
of six thousand francs, which at his death, will revert to his
eldest son. He had with him his wife, a young woman, appa
rently about twenty-five years of age, and five of the children,
the offspring of a previous marriage. The lady who travelled
with us was his fifth wife
We passed several interesting points as we sailed along
the coast. Nor was the sea itself less interesting than the
romantic scenery on shore. Our little skiff glided over shallows,
where through tbe clear crystal current, every pebble — nay, almost
every grain of sand was perceptible. . Looking down through
the translucent waves, I beheld groups of coral and madrepore,
presenting such exquisite masses of form and colour, that I
readily could have lent faith to the fanciful superstitiea whioh

490 MADAME PFEIFFER AT TAHITI.

supposes the existence of fairy gardens at the bottom of the
sea. v
In the wide-spreading ramifications of marine vegetation
might be pictured miniature groves and arabesque parterres, in
terspersed here and there with hillocks of sponge. Multitudes
of little transparent fishes darted to and fro, rivalling in colour
and radiance, the variegated hues of the butterfly, and the bright
ness of the glow-worm. These tiny flshes were scarcely an inch
in length. For splendour of colouring, I scarcely ever beheld
any thing to equal them. Some were of clear azure blue, some
bright yellow, and others, nearly transparent, exhibited richly
shaded tints of brown and green.
We had left Papeiti about noon ; and at six o'clock, when the
sun was setting, it was resolved that we should not pursue our
course further that evening, as the numerous rugged cliffs which
fringe that part of the coast render the passage somewhat unsafe
after dark. We therefore landed at Paya (a place situated about
twenty-two miles from Papeiti) of which the sixth son' of Tati is
the ruling chief.
In honour of his father's visit, the young chief ordered a sup
per to be prepared. A pig was accordingly killed, and cooked
in the Tahitian fashion. A hollow dug in the ground contained
a number of stones, round which a flerce fire was kindled. Mean
while bread-tree fruits were skinned and divided into halves by
a sharp wooden hatchet. When the fire burned up, and the
stones were sufficiently heated, the pig and the bread-fruits were
put in the oven, and heated stones laid over them. The whole
was then covered over with leaves, branches of trees, and finally
with a layer of earth.
Whilst the supper was being cooked by this process, the table
was laid out. A straw mat having been spread on the ground,
large leaves, intended to serve as plates, were placed upon it.
As a drinking cup, each guest was furnished with a cocoa-nut
shell ; half filled with a sort of acid beverage, called Miti.
In about an hour-and-a-half supper was pronounced to be
teady; and though the pig was not to be prepared in the most

MADAME PFEIFFER AT TAHITI. 491

tempting style, yet it was consumed with inconceivable rapidity.
By the help of a single knife the pig was divided into as many
portions as there were individuals to partake of it ; and each one
was helped to his or her share, together with half a bread-fruit,
placed on a leaf. Excepting the French officer, old Tati, his
wife, and myself, no one sat down at the rustic table ; it being
inconsistent with the customs of the country for the host to eat
with his guests, or a child with his parent.
On our arrival at Papara, we were informed of the death of
one of Tati's sons. The event had taken place a few days pre
viously, but the funeral was deferred until the arrival of the aged
chief. I visited the hut, and the attendants gave me a new
pocket handkerchief, directing me to offer it as a present to the
departed. This custom, of offering presents to the dead, is still
kept up by the Tahitians — even those among them who have
become converts to Christianity. The body lay in a coffin, rest
ing on*a low bier ; both coffin and bier were overspread with a
sort of white paint or lacker. Before the bier two straw mats
were spread. On one of these mats were placed all the clothes,
drinking-cups, knives, &c., which had belonged to the deceased.
On the other lay a vast collection of presents, consisting of shirts,
parees, handkerchiefs, bits of cloth, &c.
I attended the ceremony of the interment. The priest delivered
a short oration over the grave, and when the coffin was lowered,
the mats, the straw hat, and the clothes of the deceased, to
gether with some of the presents, were thrown into the grave.
In the vicinity of the place of interment there were some ancient
Indian tombs called Murais. They were quadrangular spaces
surrounded by stone walls four or five feet high. Within the
Murai or quadrangle, the corpse used to be laid, resting on a
wooden framework. There it was left until nothing remained
but the skeleton, which was afterwards buried in some sequestered
spot. ,
After my return from Papara, I made a visit to Venus Point,
a little, tongue of land, on which Captain Cook stationed himself
to observe the transit of Venus over the sun's disk. The

492 MADAME PFEIFFER AT TAHITI.

stone on wBtch his telescope was fixed is still on the spot where
it then was.
One of my most interesting excursions was to Fontana and the
Diadem. Fontana is a point which the Tahitians considered to
be impregnable, and where, nevertheless, they sustained the
most signal defeat by the French during the last war. Governor
Brouat obligingly lent me his horse to raake this excursion, and
he sent with me as a guide a sub-officer, who had been engaged
in the action, and who explained to me the positions and move
ments of the hostile forces.
For the space of six miles I rode through thick forests and deep
ravines, intersected by mountain torrents. In many parts of
these ravines, extremely narrow passes are fianked on either side
by steep and inaccessible mountains; so that here, as in ancient
Thermopylae, a small band of brave warriors were enabled to
keep at bay a strong and numerous array. The defiles of Fon
tana raay be said to be the key to the whole island. During the
late war Fontana was tbe principal stronghold of the Tahitians,
and the only mode by which the French could hope to carry tho
important position was by climbing up an almost perpendicular
precipice, and thereby reaching a narrow ridge near the surarait.
General Brouat announced his wish that this dangerous enterprise
should be entrusted only to volunteers ; and sixty-two men were
selected from the very considerable number who eagerly offered
themselves. After twelve hours of difficult and perilous exer
tion, the gallant adventurers at length gained the summit. As
soon as they appeared in sight, the dismayed Indians threw
down their arms, exclaiming, "These are not men, for that steep
acclivity is inaccessible to mortal footsteps. They raust be
spirits ; therefore let us surrender, for it is needless to attempt
defence." At Fontana, a little fort, surmounted by a watch-tower, has
been built. It is reached by a footpath running along a- narrow
mountain ridge, beneath which yawns a chasm of unfathomable
depth. For persons liable to vertigo, it would be dangerous to
attempt to lia along this path, which, however, commands a

^Ko

^%\^^\IIIIIILilill
¦ -.«> mJ

MADAME PFEIFFER AT TAHITI.

493

magnificent prospect over the surrounding country. Mountains,
valleys, ravines, and waterfalls diversify the romantic scene;
and high above every other object in the landscape towers the
Diadem. I reached that colossal mass of rock after a three hours'
ride along a difficult road. The prospect from the Diadem is still
grander than that from the fort, extending in two directions, far
beyond the boundaries of the island, and to some distance over
the sea.
This was my last excursion in the lovely island of Tahiti.

AN ADVENTURE ON THE DEE.
It was hot, burning hot, hot enough for Bengal, a few weeks
ago, when a party of us were sitting in tbe shade of a
clump of trees beside the brook that rattles down from the
lake with the unpronounceable name, on the big hills behind
Tremadoc. Some of our party (they were from town, and lately
arrived) had been haymaking in the field, which is not quite as
steep as the roof of St. Paul's, but steep enough to tempt a roll
or two in the fresh, sweet hay ; two had been fishing in the lake ;
while a trio, lazy and romantic, had just been reading, with oc
casional intervals of discussion, during which, it was wonderful
the number of bottles 'of porter they had managed to empty,
out of the three dozen put to cool in the hollow of the brook
bank for the ama%eur haymakers. By a universal vote, we had
lunched under the trees on all manner of comestibles, including
a wonderful salad of cold turbot, for want of a lobster. We
were very happy and very warm, except the idlers. After lun
cheon, some went to sleep ; I am afraid some smoked; but no
one scolded, and no one argued. As the evening crept on, the
tide went down in the bay, and for miles there was nothing to
be seen but a desert of yellow sand, real yellow sand, where
Ariel's friends might have danced with pleasure. We watched
the sea receding, and receding, until only a dim, white, waggling
line on the horizon told us where the waters of Port Madoo
were to come from, at the turn of the tide.
Every body seemed deliciously lazy ; no one could be called
or coaxed into haymaking again. To half of us, open-air work
was something new; to the other half, the rattle of new arrivals
from town was wonderfully refreshing, after the vegetation of
a Welsh village. So, gossiping, with a little singing, a little
494

LAURA.

P. 494.

AN ADVENTURE ON THE DEE. 495

story-telling, and I am afraid, a little flirting, the day wore out,
the moon rose up, and presently, up a hundred channels, before
unseen, the sea began to flow back, and sparkle below us, as
we sat on the turf, on the hill-side, beside the rustling torrent.
At length the conversation turned on rides across the sands,
on the shores of the Solway, and the perils of Morecombe Bay.
One quoted tbe adventure in " Redgauntlet," another of Sir
Arthur Wardour and Lovell in the " Antiquary ;" a third, the
story of the narrow escape of Madame D'Arblay, near Ilfra-
combe ; but we were all piqued with the acutest curiosity, when
Alfred Aubrey, the matter-of-fact man, with a romantic name,
said, between the whiffs of a genuine Manilla,
" IgQjice had a narrow escape myself, crossing the Dee, on
just such a night as this, only there was no moon ; and I can
assure you that galloping a race with time and tide is no joke."
" Come," cried Carry Darling, the self-elected dictatress of
our al fresco parliament, " that will do ; you have been talk
ing nothing these three days but fishing and politics ; put down
your filthy tobacco, and tell us that — for you owe us a story."
So Aubrey, knowing that he had a Napoleon in petticoats to deal
with, began, with fewer excuses tBan customary in such cases, as
follows : —
About twenty years ago, after a fatiguing London season, I was
stopping at the decayed port and bathing village of Parkgate, on
the Dee, opposite the equally decayed town and castle of Flint. It
was a curious place to choose for amusement, for it had, and has, no
recommendation except brackish water, pleasant scenery at high
water, and excessive dulness. But, to own the truth, I was in
love, desperately in love, with one of the most charming, pro
voking little sylphs in tbe world, who after driving me half crazy
in London, was staying on a visit with an uncle, a Welsh parson
at dreary Parkgate. Not that it was dreary to me when Laura
was amiable ; on the contrary, I wrote to my friends and described
it as one of the most delightful watering-places in England,
and, by so doing, lost for ever the good graces and legacy of my
Aunt Grumnh. who travelled all the way from Brighton on my

496 AN ADVENTURE ON THE DEE.

description, and only stayed long enough to change horses. One
sight of the one street of tumble-down houses, in face of a
couple of miles of sand and shingle at low water was enough.
She never spoke to me again, except to express her extreme
contempt for my opinion.
Our chief amusement was riding on the sand, and sometimes
crossing to Flint at low water. You know, of course, that for
merly the Dee was a great comraercial river, with iraportant ports
at Chester, Parkgate, and Flint; but in the course of time the
banks have fallen in, increasing the breadth at the expense of
the depth; so that at Parkgate, whence formerly the Irish
packets sailed, the fisher-girls can walk over at low water, for
the whole way across, except just round Flint, where t^re are
several quicksands, when the tide turns, in certain states of the
wind, the whole estuary is covered with wonderful rapidity ; for
the tide seems to creep up subterraneous channels, and you raay
find yourself surrounded by salt-water when you least expect it.
This was of no consequence to us, as we were never tied for
time. I was teaching Laura to ride, on a little Welsh pony,
and the sands made a famous riding-school. I laugh now when
I think of the little rat of a pony she used to gallop about, for
she now struggles into a Brougham of ordinary dimensions with
great difficulty, and weighs nearly as much as her late husband,
Mr. Alderman Mallard. In a short time, Laura made so much
progress in horsemanship, that she insisted on mounting my
hackney, a full-sized well-bred animal, and putting me on the
rat-pony. When I indulged her in this fancy — for of course she
had her own way — I had the satisfaction of being rewarded by
her roars of laughter at the ridiculous figure I cut, ambling be
side her respectable uncle, on his cart-horse cob, with my legs
close to the ground, and my nose peering over the little Welsh
man's shaggy ears, while my fairy galloped round us, drawing
all sorts of ridiculous comparisons. This was bad enough,
but when Captain Egret, the nephew of my charmer's aunt's
husband, a handsome fellow, with " a lovely grey horse, with
such a tail," as Laura described it, came up from Chester

AN ADVENTURE ON THE DEE. 497

to stay a few days, I could stand ray rat-pony no longer, and
felt much too ill to ride out ; so stood at the window of my
lodgings with my shirt-collar turned down, and Byron in my
hand, open at one of the most murderous passages, watching
Laura on my chesnut, and Captain Egret on his grey, cantering
over the deserted bed of the Dee. They were an aggravatingly
handsome couple, and the existing state of the law on man
slaughter enabled me to derive no satisfaction from the hints
contained in the " Giaour" or the " Corsair." Those were our
favourite books of reference for young England in those days.
Indeed, we were all amateur pirates, and felons in the^t-y : but
when I had been cast down in disgust at the debased state of civi
lization, which prevented me from challenging Captain Egret to
single copibat, with Laura for the prize of the victor, instead of
a cell at Chester Castle, ray eye fell on an advertiseraent in a
local paper, which turned my thoughts into a new channel, of
" Sale of Blood Stock, Hunters and Hackneys," at Plas * * *,
near Holywell.
I determined to give up murder, and buy another horse, for I
could ride as well as the Captain ; and then what glorious tete-a-
tetes 1 could have, with my hand on the pomrael of Laura's side
saddle. The idea put me in good humour. Regimental duties having
suddenly recalled Captain Egret, I spent a delightful evening
with Laura ; she quite approved of my project, and begged that
I would choose a horse, " with a long tail, of a pretty colour,"
which is every young lady's idea of what a horse should be.
Accordingly I mounted ray chesnut on a bright morning of
.luly, and rode across to Flint, accompanied by a man to bring
back my intended purchase. It was dead low water ; when, full
of happy thoughts, in the still warm silence of the summer
morning, holding ray eager horse hard in, I rode at a foot pace
across the smooth, hard, wave-marked bed of the river. There
was not a cloud in the sky. The sun, rising slowly, cast a golden
glow of sparkling sand. Pit-pat-pit-pat, went my horse's feet,
not loud enough to disturb the busy crows and gulls seeking
their breakfast ; they were not afraid of *rae ; they knew I had
4-2*

498 AN ADVENTURE ON THE DEE.

no gun. I remember it ; I see it all before me, as if it were
yesterday, for it was one of the most delicious moments of my
life. But the screaming gulls and whistling curlews were put
to flight, before I had half crossed the river's bed, by the cheerful
chatter, laughter, and fragments of Welsh airs sung in chorus
by a hearty crowd of cockle and mussel gatherers, fishermen,
and farmers' wives, on the way to the market on tbe Cheshire
side — men, women, (they were the majority), and children on
foot, on ponies and donkeys, and in little carts. Exchanging
good-humoured jokes, I passed on until I came to the ford of the
channel, where the river runs between banks of deep soft sand.
At low water, at certain points, in summer, it is but a few inches
deep ; but after heavy rains, and soon after the turning of the
tide, the depth increases rapidly.
At the ford I met a second detachment of Welsh peasantry
preparing to cross, by making bundles of shoes and stockings,
and tucking up petticoats very deftly. Great was the fun and
tbe splashing, and plenty of jokes on the Saxon and his red
horse going the wrong way. The Welsh -girls in this part of
the country are very pretty, with beautiful complexions, a gleam
of gold in their dark hair, and an easy graceful walk, from the
habit of carrying the water-pitchers from the wells on their heads.
The scene made me feel any thing but melancholy or ill-natured.
I could not help turning back to help a couple of little damsels
acrosss, pilllion-wise, who seemed terribly afraid of wetting their
finery at the foot ford.
Having passed the channels, the wheels and footmarks formed
a plain direction for a safe route, which, leaving Flint Castle on
my right, brought me into the centre of Flint, without any need
of a guide. The rest of my road was straightforward and
common-place. I reached the farm where the sale was to
take place, in time for breakfast, and was soon lost in a
crowd of country squires, Welsh parsons, farmers, horsedealers,
and grooms.
Late in the day I purchased a brown stallion, with a strain of
Arab blood, rather undersized, but oompaot, and one of the

AN ADVENTURE ON THE DEE. 499

handsomest horses I ever saw before or since, very powerful,
nearly thorough-bred. When tbe auctioneer had knocked him
down to me, I said to one of the grooms of the establishment
who was helping my man — handing him a crown-piece at the
same time —
" As the little brown horse is mine, with all faults, just have
the goodness to tell me what is his fault ?"
" Why, sir," he answered, " he can walk, trot, gallop, and
jump, first rate, surely ; but he's very awkward to mount ; and
when you are on, he'll try uncommon hard to get you off, for
two minutes ; if you stick fast, he will be quiet enough all
day." " Thank you, my man," I replied ; "I'll try him directly."
Just before starting I found tbe chesnut had a shoe loose, and
had to send him to the nearest village, two miles off. I had
promised Laura to return by eight o'clock, to finish a delightful
book we were reading aloud together, until the tiff about Cap
tain Egret had interrupted us. You may judge if I was not
impatient; and yet, with fifteen miles to ride to Flint, I had no
time to spare.
My friend the groom saddled the brown horse, and brought
him down to the open road to me. He trotted along, with
shining coat and arched neck, snorting and waving his great tail
like a lion. As he piaffed and paraded sideways along, casting
back his full eye most wickedly, every motion spoke mischief;
but there was no time for consideration ; I had barely an hour
to do fifteen miles of rough roads before crossing the river, and
must get to the river-side, cool. I had intended to have ridden
the chesnut, who was experienced in water, but the loose shoe
upset that arrangement. Without giving him any time to see
what I was about, I caught him by the mane and the reins,
threw myself from a sloping bank into the saddle, and although
he dragged the groom across the road, I had both feet in the
stirrups before be burst from his hold. Snorting fiercely, he
bucked and plunged until I thought the girths would surely
crack ; bu*- o*her ' ">rsemen galloping past, enabled me to bustle

500 AN ADVENTURE ON THE DEE.

him into full speed, and in five minutes be settled down into a
long, luxurious stride, with his legs under bis haunches, that felt
like a common canter, but really devoured the way, and swept
me past every thing on the road. Up hill and down, it was
all the same, he bounded, like a machine full of power on the
softest of steel-springs.
Ten miles were soon past, and we reached Holywell ; up the
steep hill and through the town, and down the steep narrow
lanes, we went, and reached the level road along the shore lead
ing to Flint, without halt, until within two miles of that town ;
then I drew bridle to walk in cool.
By this time the weather, which had been bright all day, had
changed ; a few heat drops of rain fell, thunder was heard rolling
in the distance, and a wind seemed rising and murmuring from
the sea.
I looked at my watch as we entered the town ; it was an hour
past the time when I intended to have crossed. But Laura
must not be disappointed; so I only halted at the inn long
enough to let the brown wash his mouth out, and, without dis
mounting, rode on to the guide's house. As I passed the Castle,
I heard a band playing ; it was a party of officers, with their
friends, who had come np on a picnic from Chester.
When I reached the cottage of old David, the guide, he was
sitting on the bench at the door, putting on his shoes and stock
ings ; and part of the party I had met in the morning, as they
passed, cried, " You're late, raaster ; you raust hurry on to cross
to-night." David was beginning to dissuade me ; but when I
threw him a shilling, and trotted on, he followed me, pattering
down the beach.
" You must make haste, master, for the wind's getting up,
and will bring the tide like a roaring lion — it will. But I sup
pose the pretty lady with the rosy face expects you. But where's
the red horse ? I wish you had him. I do not like strange
horses on such a time as this — indeed, and I do not," he added.
But I had no tirae for explanations, although David was a great

AN ADVENTURE ON THE DEE.

ally of ours. I knew I was expected ; it was getting dusk,
and Laura would be anxious, I hoped."
Pushing briskly along, we soon reached the ford of the chan
nel, so calm and shallow in the morning, but now filling fast
with the tide ; dark clouds were covering the sky, and the wind
brought up a hollow murmuring sound.
" Now get across, young gentleman, as fast as you can, and
keep your eye on the wind-mill, and don't spare your spurs, and
you will have plenty of time ; so good evening, God bless you,
young gentleman, and the pretty lady, too," cried David,
honestest of Welsh guides.
I tried to walk the brown horse through the ford where it was
not more than three or four feet deep ; but he first refused ;
then, when pressed, plunged fiercely in, and was out of his depth
in a moment. He swam boldly enough, but obstinately kept
his head down the stream ; so that, instead of landing on an
easy shelving shore, he came out where all but a perpendicular
bank of soft sand had to be leaped and climbed over. After
several unsuccessful efforts, I was obliged to slip off, and climb
up on foot, side by side with my horse, holding on by tbe flap
of the saddle. If I had not dismounted, we should probably
have rolled back together.
When I reached the top of the bank, rather out of breath, I
looked back, and saw David making piteous signs, as he moved
off rapidly for me to push along. But this was easier said
than done ; the brown horse would not let me come near him.
Round and round he went, rearing and plunging, until I was
quite exhausted. Coaxing and threatening were alike useless ;
every moment it was getting darker. Once I thought of letting
the brute go, and swimming back to David. But when I looked
at the stream, and thought of Laura, that idea was dismissed.
Another tussle, in which we ploughed up the sand in a circle,
was equally fruitless, and I began to think he would keep me
there to be drowned, for to cross to Parkgate on foot before the
tide came up strong, seemed hopeless. At length, finding I
could not get to touch his shoulder, I seized the opportunity,

502 AN ADVENTURE ON THE DEE.

when he was close to the bank of the stream, and catching the
curb sharply in both hands, backed him half way down almost
into the water. Before he had quite struggled up to the top, I
threw myself into the saddle, and was carried off at the rate of
thirty miles an hour towards the sea.
But I soon gathered up the reins, and firm in my seat, turned
my Tartar's head towards the point where I could see the
white windmill gleaming through the twilight on the Cheshire
shore. I felt that I had not a moment to spare. The sand, so firm in
the morning, soundeji damp under my horse's stride ; the little
stagnant pools filled visibly, and joining formed shallow lakes,
through which we dashed in a shower of spray ; and every now
and then we leaped over or plunged into deep holes. At first I
tried to choose a path, but as it rapidly grew darker, I sat back
in my saddle, and with my eyes fixed on the tower of the wind
mill, held my horse firraly into a hand gallop, and kept a straight
line. He was a famous deep-chested long-striding little fellow,
and bounded along as frOsh as when I started. By degrees my
spirits began to rise; I thought the danger past; I felt confidence
in myself and horse, and shouted to him in encouraging triumph.
Already I was, in imagination, landed and relating my day's
adventures to Laura, when with a heavy plunge down on his
head, right over went the brown stallion, and away I flew as far
as the reins, fortunately fast grasped, would let me. Blinded
with wet sand, startled, shaken, confused by a sort of instinct, I
scrambled to my feet almost as soon as my horse, who had fallen
over a set of salmon-net stakes. Even in the instant of my fall,
all the horror of my situation was mentally visible to me. In a
moment I lived years. I felt that I was a dead man ; I won
dered if my body would be found; I thought of what my friends
would say ; I thought of letters in my desk I wished burned. I
thought of relatives to whom my journey to Parkgate was un
known, of debts I wished paid, of parties with whom I had quar
relled, and wished I had been reconciled. I wondered whether
Laura would mourn for me, whether she really loved me. In

AN ADVENTURE ON THE DEE. 603

fact, the most serious and ridiculous thoughts were jumbled alto
gether, while I muttered, once or twice, a hasty prayer ; and yet
I did not lose a moment in remounting. This time my horse
made no resistance, but stood over his hocks in a pool of salt
water, and trembled and snorted — not fiercely, but in fear.
There was no time to lose. I looked round for the dark line of
the shore ; it had sunk in the twilight. I looked again for the
white tower ; it had disappeared. The fall and the rolling and
turning of the horse in rising, had confused all my notions of the
points of the compass. I could not tell whether it was the dark
clouds from the sea, or the dizzy whirling of my brain ; but it
seemed to have become black night in a moment.
The water seemed to fiow in all directions round and round.
I tried, but eould not tell which was the sea, and which the
river side. The wind, too, seemed to shift and blow from all
points of tbe compass.
Then, "Softly," I said to myself, "be calm; you are confused
by terror; be a man;" and pride came to my rescue. I closed my
eyes for a moment, and whispered, " Oh Lord, save me." Then
with an effort, calmer, as though I had gulped down something,
I opened my eyes, stood up in my stirrups and peered into the
darkness. As far as I could see, were patches of water eating
up the dry bits of sand ; as far as I could hear, a rushing tide
was on all sides. Four times, in different directions, I pushed
on, and stopped when I found the water rising over the shoulders
of my horse.
I drew up on a sort of island of sand, which was every minute
growing less, and gathering all the strength of my lungs, shouted
again and again, and then listened ; but there came no answering
shout. Suddenly, a sound of music came floating past me. I
could distinguish the air; it was the military band playing
" Home, sweet Home." I tried to gather from what quarter
the sound came ; but each time the wind instruments brayed out
loudly, the sounds seemed to come to me from every direction at
ince. "Ah!" I thought, "I shall see home no more." I could

504 AN ADVENTURE ON THE DEE.

have wept, but I had no tirae ; my eyes were staring through
the darkness, and my horse, plunging and rearing, gave me no
rest for weeping. I gave him his head once, having heard that
horses, from ships sunk at sea, have reached land distant ten
miles, by instinct; but the alternation of land and shallow
and deep water confused his senses, and destroyed the calm
power which might have been developed in the mere act of
swimming. At length, after a series of vain efforts, I grew calm and re
signed. I raade up ray mind to die. I took my handkerchief
from my neck, and tied my pocket book to the D's. of the sad
dle. I pulled ray rings off my fingers, and put them in my
pocket — I had heard of wreckers cutting off the fingers of
drowned men — and then was on the point of dashing forward at
random, when some inner feeling made me cast another steady
glance all round. At that moment, just behind rae, something
sparkled twice and disappeared, and then reappearing, shone
faintly but so steadily, that there could be no doubt it was a light
on the Cheshire shore. In an instant, my horse's head was
turned round. I had gathered him together, dug in the spurs,
and crying from the bottom of my heart, " Thank God !" in the
same moment, not profanely, but with a horseman's, instinct,
shouted encouragingly, and dashed away toward the light. It
was a hard fight ; the ground seeraed raelting from under us —
now struggling through soft sand, now splashing over hard, now
swimming (that was easy,) and now and again leaping and half
falling, but never losing hold of my horse or sight of the beacon ;
we forced through every obstacle, until at length the water grew
shallower and shallower; we reached the sand, and, passing the
sand, rattled over the shingle of high-'water mark — and I was
saved ! But I did not, could not stop ; up the loose shingles I
pressed on to the light that had saved me. I could not rest one
instant, even for thanksgiving, until I knew to what providential
circumstance I owed ray safety. I drew up at a fisherman's hut
of the humblest kind, built on the highest part of the shore, full
two miles from Parkgate; a light which seemed faint when close

AN ADVENTURE ON THE DEE.

505

to it, twinkled from a small latticed window. I threw myself
from my borse, and knocked loudly at the door, and as I
knocked, fumbled with one hand in my soaked pocket for my
purse. Twice I knocked again, and the door, which was un-
hasped, flew open. A woman, weeping bitterly, rose at this rude
summons ; and at the same moraent I saw on the table the small
coffin of a young child, with a rushlight burning at either end.
I owed my life to death !

SPECIMEN OF A SPANISH REVOLUTION.
Mr. Borrow had arrived in Madrid at a very interesting
period, and we extract at some length from the chapter in which
he paints from the life the revolution of La Granja, and the fate
of Quesada.
The Granja, or Grange, is a royal country-seat, situated
amongst pine-forests, on the other side of the Guadarama hills,
about twelve leagues distant from Madrid. To this place the
queen regent Christina had retired, in order to be aloof from the
discontent of the capital, and to enjoy rural air and amusements
in this celebrated retreat, a monument of the taste and magnifi
cence of the first Bourbon who ascended the throne of Spain.
She was not, however, permitted to remain long in tranquillity ;
her own guards were disaffected, and raore inclined to the prin
ciples of the constitution of 1823 than to those of absolute mon
archy, which the Moderados were attempting to revive again in
the government of Spiiin. Early one morning a party of these
soldiers, headed by a certain sergeant Garcia, entered her apart
ment, and proposed that she should subscribe her hand to this
constitution, and swear solemnly to abide by it. Christina, how
ever, who was a woman ofjConsiderable spirit, refused to comply
with this proposal, and ordered them to withdraw. A scene of
violence and tumult ensued; but, the regent still continuing
firra, the soldiers at length led her down to one of the courts of
the palace, where stood her well-known paramour, Munos, bound
Find blindfnldpd. " Fwcnr to the constitution, you she-rogue,"
vociferated the swarthy .sergeant. "Never!" said the spirited
daughter of the Neapolitan Bourbons. " Then your cortejo shall
die!" replied the sergeant. "Ho! ho! my lads; get ready your
arms, and send four bullets tnrough the fellow's brain." Munos
(506)

SPECIMEN OF A SPANISH REVOLUTION. 507

was forthwith led to the wall, and compelled to kneel down ; the
soldiers levelled their muskets, and another moment would have
consigned the unfortunate wight to eternity, when Christina, for
getting every thing but the feelings of her woman's heart, sud
denly started forward with a shriek, exclaiming, " Hold ! hold !
I sign, I sign !"
The day after this event I entered the Puerta del Sol at about
noon. There is always a crowd there about this hour, but it is
generally a very quiet, motionless crowd, consisting of listless
idlers calmly smoking their cigars, or listening to or retailing
the— in general — very dull news of the capital ; but on the day
of which I am speaking the mass was no longer inert. There
was much gesticulation and vociferation, and several people were
running about shouting " Viva la Gonstitudon !" — a cry whioh,
a few days previously, would have been visited upon the utterer
with death, the city having for some weeks past been subjected
to the rigour of martial law. I occasionally heard the words
" La Granja ! La Granja .'" which words were sure to be suc
ceeded by the shout of "Viva la Gonstitudon!" Opposite the
Casa de Postas were drawn up in a line about a dozen mounted
dragoons, some of whom were continually waving their caps in
the air and joining the common cry, in which they were encour
aged by their commander, a handsome young officer, who flour
ished his sword, and more than once cried out, with great glee,
" Long live the constitutional queen ! Long live the constitu
tion !"
The crowd was rapidly increasing, and several nationals made
their appearance in their uniforms, but without their arms, of
which they had been deprived, as I have already stated. " What
has become of the Moderado government ?" said I to Baltasar, ,
whom I suddenly observed amongst tbe crowd, dressed as when I .
had first seen him, in his old regimental great coat aud foraging
cap; "have the ministers been deposed, -and others been put in
their place ?"
" Not yet, Don Jorge," said the little soldier-tailor ; " not
yet; the scoundrels still hold out, relying on the brute bull Que-

508 SPECIMEN OF A SPANISH REVOLUTION.

gada and a few infantry, who still continue true to them ; but
there is no fear, Don Jorge ; the queen is ours, thanks to the
courage of my friend, Garcia; and if the brute bull should make
his appearance — ^ho ! ho ! Don Jorge, you shall see something — -
I am prepared for him, ho I bo I" and thereupon he half opened
his great coat, and showed me a small gun which he bore beneath
it in a sling, and then, moving away with a wink and a nod.
disappeared amongst the crowd-
Presently I perceived a small body of soldiers advancing up
the Calle Mayor, or principal street, which runs from the Puerta
del Sol, in the direction of tbe palace : they might be about
twenty in number, and an officer marched at their head -with a
drawn sword ; tbe men appeared to have been collected in a
hurry, many of them being in fatigue-dress, with foraging caps
on their heads. On they" carae slowly marching ; neither their
officer nor themselves paying the slightest attention to the cries
of " Long live the constitution !" save and except by an occa
sional surly side-glance ; on they marched with contracted brows
and set teeth, till they came in front of tbe cavalry, where they
halted and drew up in a rank,
" Those men mean mischief," said I to my friend D  , of
the Morning Chronicle ; — " but what can those cavalry fellows be
hind them mean, who are evidently of the other opinion by their
shooting ; why don't they charge at onee this handful of foot
people and overturn them ? Once down, the crowd would wrest
from them their muskets in a moment. You are a Liberal ; why
do you not go to that silly young man who commands the horse,
and give him a word of counsel in time ?"
D  turned upon me his broad, red, good-humoured English
countenance, with a peculiarly arch look, as much as to say . . .
 (whatever you think most applicable, gentle reader :)
then taking me by the arm, " Let us get," said he, " out Of this
crowd, and mount to some window, where I can write down what
is about to take place, for I agree with you that mischief is
meant." Just opposite the post-office was a large house, in the
topmost story of which we beheld a paper displayed, importiiig

SPECIMEN OF A SPANISH REVOLUTION, 509

that apartments were to let ; whereupon we instantly ascended
the common stair, and, having agreed with the mistress of the
etage for tbe use of the front room for the day, we bolted the
door, and tbe reporter, producing bis pocket-book and pencil,
prepared to take notes of the coming events, which were already
casting their shadow before.
What most extraordinary men are these reporters of the En
glish newspapers ! Surely, if there be any class of individuals
who are entitled to the appellation of cosmopolites, it is these ;
who pursue their avocation in all countries indifferently, and ac
commodate themselves at will to the manners of all classes of
society ; their fluency of style as writers is only surpassed by
their facility of language in conversation, and their attainments
in classical and polite literature only by their profound know
ledge of the world, acquired by an early introduction into its
bustling scenes. The activity, energy, and courage which they
occasionally display in the pursuit of information are truly re
markable. I saw them, during the three days at Paris, mingled
with canaille and gamins behind the barriers, whilst the mitraille
was flying in all directions, and the desperate cuirassiers were
dashing their fierce horses against those seemingly feeble bul
warks. There stood they, dotting down their observations in
their pocket-books as unconcernedly as if i%porting the proceed
ings of a reform meeting in Finsbury Square ; whilst in Spain,
several of them accompanied the Carlist and Christine guerillas
in some of their most desperate raids, exposing themselves to
the danger of hostile bullets, the inclemency of winter, and the
fierce heat of the summer sun.
We had scarcely been five minutes at the window when we
heard the clattering of horses' feet hastening down the Calle de
Carretas. As the sounds becarae louder and louder, the cries of
the crowd below diminished, and a species of panic seemed to
have fallen upon all ; once or twice, however, I could distinguish
the words Quesada ! Quesada ! The foot soldiers stood calm and
motionless ; but the cavalry, with the young officer who com
manded them, displayed both confusid'B and fear, exchanging

510 SPECIMEN OF A SPANISH REVOLUTION.

with each other some hurried words. All of a sudden that part
of the crowd which stood near the mouth of the Calle de Carre
tas fell back in great disorder, leaving a considerable space un
occupied, and the next moment Quesada, in complete general's
uniform, and mounted on a bright bay thorough-bred English
horse, with a drawn sword in his hand, dashed at full gallop into
the area, much the sarae manner as I have seen a Manchegan
bull rush into tbe amphitheatre when the gates of his pen are
suddenly flung open.
He was closely followed by two mounted officers, and at a
short distance by as many dragoons. In almost less time than
is sufficient to relate it, several individuals in the crowd were
knocked down and lay sprawling beneath the horses of Quesada
and his two friends, for as to the dragoons, they halted as soon
as they had entered the Puerta del Sol. It was a fine sight to
see three men, by dint of valour and good horsemanship, strike
terror into at least as many thousands. I saw Quesada spur his
horse repeatedly into the dense masses of the crowd, and then
extricate himself in the most masterly manner. The rabble were
completely awed and gave way, retiring by the Calle del Com-
ercio, and the street of Alcala. All at once, Quesada singled out
two nationals who were attempting to escape, and, setting spurs
to his horse, turned them in a moment and drove them in an
other direction, striking them in a contemptuous manner with
the fiat of his sabre. He was crying out " Long live the abso
lute queen !" when, just beneath me, amidst a portion of the
crowd which had still maintained its ground, perhaps from not
having the means of escaping, I saw a small gun glitter for a
moment, then there was a sharp report, and a bullet had nearly
sent him to his long account, passing so near to the countenance
of the general as to graze his hat. I had an indistinct view for a
moment of a well-known foraging cap just about the spot from
whence the gun had been discharged, then there was a rush of
the crowd, and the shooter, whoever he was, escaped discovery
amidst the confusion which arose.
As for Quesada, he seemed to treat the danger from which he

SPECIMEN OP A SPANISH REVOLUTION. 611

had escaped with the utmost contempt. He glared about him
fiercely for a moment, then, leaving the two nationals, who
sneaked away like whipped hounds, he went up to the young
officer who commanded the cavalry, and who had been active in
raising the cry of the Constitution, and to him he addressed a -
few words with an air of stern menace ; the youth evidently
quailed before him, probably in obedience to his orders, resigned
the command of the party, and rode slowly away with a discom
fited air ; whereupon Quesada dismounted and Walked slowly
backwards and forwards before the Casa de Postas with a mien
which seemed to bid defiance to mankind.
This was the glorious day of Quesada's existence, his glorious
and last day. I call it the day of his glory, for he certainly
never before appeared under such brilliant circumstances, and
be never lived to see another sun set. No action of any con
queror or hero on record is to be compared with this closing
scene of the life of Quesada; for who, by his single desperate
courage and impetuosity, ever before stopped a revolution in full
course ? Quesada did ; he stopped the revolution at Madrid for
one entire day, and brought back the uproarious and hostile mob
of a huge city to perfect order and quiet. His burst into the
Puerta del Sol was the most tremendous and successful piece of
daring ever witnessed. I admired so much the spirit of the " brute
bull," that I frequently during his wild onset, shouted " Viva
Quesada !" for I wished him well. Not that I am of any political
party or system. No, no ! I have lived too long with Rominany
Chals and Petulengres to be of any politics save gipsy politics : and
it is well known, that during elections, the children of Roma side
with both parties-RO long as the event is doubtful, promising suc
cess to each ; and then, when the fight is done, and the battle won,
invariably range theraselves in the ranks of the victorious. But
I repeat that I wished well to Quesada, witnessing as I did, his
stout heart and good horsemanship. Tranquillity was restored
to Madrid throughout the remainder of the day ; the handful of
infantry bivouacked in the Puerta del Sol. No more cries of
" Long live the Constitution !" were heard ; and the revolution

612 SPECIMEN OF A REVOLUTION IN SPAIN.

in the capital seemed to have been effectually put down. It is
probable, indeed, that, had the chiefs of the moderado party but
continued true to themselves for forty-eight hours longer, their
cause would have triumphed, and the revolutionary soldiers at
the Granja would have been glad to restore the Queen Regent
to liberty, and to have come to terms, as it was well knovra that
several regiments who still continued loyal were marching upon
Madrid. The moderados, however, were not true to themselves e
that very night their hearts failed them, and they fled in various
directions— Isturitz and Galiano to France, and the Duke of
Rivas to Gibraltar; the panic of his colleagues even infected
Quesada, who disguised as a civilian, took to flight. He was not,
however, so successful as the rest, but was recognized at a village
about three leagues from Madrid, and cast into the prison by
some friends of the constitution. Intelligence of his capture
was instantly transmitted to the capital, and a vast mob of the na
tionals, some on foot, some on horseback, and others in cabriolets,
instantly set out. "The nationals are coming," said a paisano
to Quesada. " Then," said he, " I am lost," and forthwith pre
pared himself for death.
On the evening of the day in question I was seated in a coffee
house in Madrid sipping a cup of the brown beverage, when I
saw a body of the nationals enter the coffee-house marching arm
in arra, two by two, stamping on the ground with their feet in a
kind of measure, and singing in loud chorus.
A huge bowl of coffee was then called for, which was placed
upon a table, around which gathered the national soldiers.
There was silence for a moment, which was interrupted by a
voice roaring ont " El paiiuelo ?" A blue kerehief was forth
with produced ; it was untied, and a gory hand and three or
four dissevered fingers made their appearance ; and with these
the contents of the bowl were stirred up. " Cups ! cups !" cried
the nationals. "Ho, ho, Don Jorge !" cried Baltasarito, " pray
do me the favour to drink upon this glorious occasion."
So much for Madrid and its Patriots in February, 1836.
THE END.

Every one is Enraptured with the Book— Every one will
Read it!
SIX THOUSAND PUBLISHED IN THIRTY DAYS !
UPS AND DOWNS,
Or Silver Lake Sketches.
BY COUSIN CICELY, Author of I.ewie or the Bended Twig.
One Elegant 12mo. Vol., with Ten lUustrations by Coffin, and engraved
by the best artists. Cloth, gilt, SI, 25.
ALDEN & BEARDSLEY, Auburn and Rochester, N. Y.,
Publishers.

The Critics give it Unqualified Commendation.
Cousin Cicely's "Lewie, or the Bended Twig," published and widely
read not long ago, was a volume to sharpen the reader's appetite for
"more of the same sort." * » « * * "Ups and Downs" is a cluster
of sketches and incidents in real life, narrated with a grace of though t
and flow of expression rarely to be met. The sketches well entitle th e
volume to its name, for they are pictures of many sides of life — som e
grave, some gay, some cheering and some sad, pervaded by a genia I
spirit, and developing good morals.
Either of the fifteen sketches will amply repay the purchaser of the
volume, and unless our judgment is false, after a earej\il reading, "Ups
and Downs" will make an impression beyond ''the pleasant effect to
while away a few unoccupied moments." The Publishers have given
Cousin Cicely's gems a setting worthy of their brilliancy. The ten il
lustrations are capital in design and execution, and it strikes us as re
markable how such a volume can be profitably got up at the price for
which it is sold. The secret must lie in large circulation — which "Ups
and Downs" is certain to secure. — N, Y l^ening Mirror.
Who is Cousin Cicely ? — We begin to think Cousin Cicely is somebody,
and feel disposed to ask, who is she 7 We several months ago noticed
her "Lewie" in this journal. It is a story with a fine moral, beautiful
and touching in its development. It has already quietly made its way
to a circulation of twelve titousand, "without beating a drum or crying
oysters." Pretty good evidence that there is something in it. Our read
ers have already had a taste of " Ups and Downs," for we find among its
contents a story enti^d "Miss Todd, M. D., or a Disease ofthe Heart,"
which was publishedTn this journal a few months ago. \Ve venture to
say that no one who read has forgotten it, and those who remember it
will be glad to know where they can find plenty more of the "same
sort." — 17. 8. Journal.
* * * Sketchesof life as it is, and of some things as they should be;
all drawn with a light pencil, and abounding with touches of real genius.
Cousin Cicelv has improved her former good reputation in our opinion, by
this effort. — iThe Wesley an.

THE MOST CHARMING BOOK OF THE SEASON.
Of "Le-wie," by "Cousin Cicely," we have recently spoken
ia terms of unqualified praise. "Cousin Cicely" may take her
rank with the several remarkably successful female authors of
the day, who, within the last two or three years, have created a
public mania for female literature. — JV*. Y. Mirror.
* * * The stories are pleasingly written. There are many pathetic
descriptions, and many others concealing a good deal of covert and well-
merited satire. V^e make the following extract from a sketch entitled
"Miss Tod, M. D., or a Disease of the Heart ;" from the portfolio of a
young lawyer. The extract will give a sample of the author's style.
"In the course ofthe aaemoon, as 1 lay upon the sofa, with my hand pressed
upon my head, to still its irregular pulsations, there was a soft tap at tbe door.
'Come In,' I called out, and to my surprise in stepped the neatest, brightest,
most cheerful looking little woman it had ever been my lot to meet.
" ''Vou sent for me, 1 belieVe sir.**' she said in a brisk, pleasant way.
" 'I ? No, Madam — ^you are laboring under a mistake'.'
" 'Ah ! I beg pardon,' said the little woman ; I found on my slate the name
of Mr. Hubbs, No. 14, Mrs. Grays' boarding-house, with a request that I would
call and see him.'
" 'Your slate, madam I I exclaimed, my astonishment increasing every mo
ment — 'you are surely not a  '
"'Physician! yes, .sir,' she interrupted quickly: 'I'm a physician; nr.
Tod.' " 'Extraordinary 1' was all that I could say ; for, though I had heard at a dis
tance, of such a being, this was my first introduction to a female practitioner
ofthe Esculapean art.' " [N. Y. Despatch.
Cousin Cicely has studied human nature, and expresses her views
easily and gracefully. Well written sketches, and are calculated to re
prove the follies and vices of life. They vHU be read, and what is better,
they will leave a good impression. — Genesee Evangelist.
These sketches are pictures of many sided life. The grave and gay,
the lively and severe, the sad and glad, the fortune of prosperity, and the
misfortunes of reverse, are all depicted with a felicity of expression that
is rare in this day of "writing for effect." "There is no straining or "high-
falutin," no construction of mere words for the sake of their own jingle,
no appeal to bad passions, and no mere effort at humor. If we mistake
not, this book is destined to have a large sale. — Roch. American.
* * * There is a freshness and naturalness about the sketches
which make them popular with almost all classes. — iV. Y. Day Book.
We do not know of a writer whose works evince a purer or more
wholesome taste. This book of sketches under the above title, is like
her former productions, of a very superior tone. The "Vermont Cousin,"
and the "Adopted Daughter," are rich in quiet hun»or, and the latter pe
culiarly so, in depth of feeling and fine sentiment ; while the "Lesson of
Contentment'' is one which every person ought to read, in these hard
times. — Orleans Republican.
Cousin Cicely has acquired an enviable reputation as a writer of pleas
ing stories. The sketches in this work are highly interesting, and at the
same time of a high moral character. The book wiU have a great sale. 
Newark Whig.

THE MOST CHARMING BOOK OF THE SEASON.
*»* We have been deeply interested in reading some of the sheets.
The vivacity ofthe narrative and dialogue is admirable. The characters
are well exhibited, and the talk of the country people is given with sin
gular correctness, and with a peculiar charm. Virtue finds its reward,
and a good moral tone marks the story. We predict that the "Ups and
Downs" will be a favorite with the public. It is not a desperate effort
for popularity. All is easy and amiable, and the reader not only honors.
but loves the kind, genial, heart-moving, and heart-purifying influence of
the story which is making his time fly so rapidly. — iv. Y, Evening Mirror.
Cousin Cicely has made herself well known the world over by her
beautiful sketches. Her stories are made up of song, sentiment, sermon,
fancy, essay, and philosophy, amusingly mingled in a manner greatly to
interest. The present volume assumes more the form of connected tales,
the object of which shall be to "point a moral." The authoress, with
ease and elegance, has sent out her books to instruct and improve the
reader. They abound in rich moral tone and beautiful description. — De
troit DaUy Advertiser.
^ * '^ A glance at its pages convince us that its style is beautiful
and its psges full of interest. It takes us back to our old homes, or it
transports us to other climes, portraying as its title indicates, " Ups and
Downs." — Niles Enquirer, Midi,
Cousin Cicely, whoever she may be, is a highly valued relative of the
human family. She possesses a fund of good feeling and good sense, and
has so much unquestionable strength, that she can afford to be natural.
In presenting her interesting reminiscences she proceeds in a straight^
forward manner, and tells her story in unaffected, and often in beautiful
and impressive language. Her former productions have procured a place
for her in many hearts, and the present sketches fully sustain her position.
They are lively, vigorous, and always to the purpose, frequently illustra
ting an important moral truth by a powerful narrative. — N. Y. lYibune.
The volume before us is from the pen of one whose writings we have
always admired — aud the cause of our admiration may be found in their
naturalness, feeling and grace. We find here no less than fifteen sketches
— each one skillfully and successfully wrought, and all containing thoughts
for which their author will be cordially thanked. "Cousin Cicely" knows
all about  "the stuff that life is made of,"
and uses that knowledge t^ excellent advantage. It is sure of a cordial
welcome. — Buffalo Express.
The first story in the collection is a good natured satire on female doc
tors. A young lawyer fancies himself afflicted by an organic disease of
the heart. ¦ A physicians is summoned, and comes in the shape of an in
telligent young lady, Miss Tod, M.D. The result of the acquaintance
thus formed is a reciprocal attachment ; for once, "the course of true love
does run smooth," and Miss Tod consents to become a resident physician.
— N. Y. Commercial Advertiser,
* * * Social scenes in every-day life, genially sketched ; designed
to entertain a quiet hour of relaxation, and inculcates high moral lessons,
—Home Journal,

Great Romance Coming— A Book for tlie Times!

Or Woman's Rights and Spiritualism.
ILLUSTRATING THE FOLLIES AND DELUSIONS OF THE XIXth
CENTURY.
BY FKED. FOLIO,
" This is the age of oddities let loose."
A beautiful 12mo. vol., 400 pp. with ten illustrations by Coffin, [in prepara
tion, will be ready Sept 1st,] Cloth, gilt, $1,25.
ALDEIV & BEARDSLEY, Aubnrn and Rochester, N. T.,
Publishers.
A.dvance Opinions of the Press,
* * * None "VTill be more anxious to read it than those who practica
the follies it illustrates, and their name is legion. The book will have a
run. — Rochester Union.
* * * This book is precisely what the "times" demand — a decided "hit,"
and will accomplish much good. We predict for ber a brilliant career.
Success to "Fred Folio." — Oxford Times.
* * * The subject and its appositeneas to the excitements of the day,
well lead the publishers to expect a large and prompt sale. Whether we
do or do not know Fred. Folio— we may state hereafter.— UiicaJMbm-
ing Herald.
* * * If here is not a budget of fun, we are mistaken. No work has
been announced of late that will be so readily sought for as Lucy Boston.
—Rome Sentinel,
? * * If "Fred, Folio" is aa fortunate in "illustrating" as selecting his
theme, well may the publishers announce it "A book for tlie tiraes." We
hope for an early introduction to "Lucy." — Albany Argus.
* * * A more appropriate subject for a loitty pen could not be found. If
"Fred Folio," (of whom we know nothing,) has done justice to his stib-
jectj the publishers will have a busy time in supplying the demand. We
hope to see "Lucy" on the course soon, and shall be greatly surprised if
"Uncle Tom" is not left behind, in the I'un she is destined to make —
Binghamton Daily Republican.
* * * The title and character of the forthcoming work will ensure for it
an extensive sale. That it will be well worth reading, we have a sufficient
guarantee in the good taste and proverbial caution of'the. enterprising
publishers. — Auburn Daily American.
* * * Such an opening for a capital burlesque does not often present it
self. If Fred Folio is equal to the tagk assumed, look out for a side
splitting romance. There will be no end to the sale until everybody has
perused it — WtUeroiUe Journal.
* * * A fit subject for a most ludicrous "illustration," and this is what
we judge tbe above announced book to be. We shall look for "Lucy
Boston," with much interest, and expect to enjoy a hearty laugh on
making her aequaintance.— Zlat'/y Evening Watch-Tower., Adrian^ Mich.
* * * The book will be sought after with avidity, and command an un
precedented sale. — Cliittenan go Herald.
* * * A prolific and "taking" theme, truly, and one which a master
pen could make much of. We have an inkling of who Fred. Folio is, and
know him to be possessed of the requisite talent to weave into a brilliant
fabric the 'Follies and Delusions of tho Nineteenth Century.' — Oneida Chief,

YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY

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