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diff --git a/78192-0.txt b/78192-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..859ce7c --- /dev/null +++ b/78192-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2441 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78192 *** + + + “_Familiar in their Mouths as HOUSEHOLD WORDS._”—SHAKESPEARE. + + + + + HOUSEHOLD WORDS. + A WEEKLY JOURNAL. + + + CONDUCTED BY CHARLES DICKENS. + + + N^{o.} 22.] SATURDAY, AUGUST 24, 1850. [PRICE 2_d._ + + + + + FROM THE RAVEN IN THE HAPPY FAMILY. + + +I suppose you thought I was dead? No such thing. Don’t flatter +yourselves that I haven’t got my eye upon you. I am wide awake, and you +give me plenty to look at. + +I have begun my great work about you. I have been collecting materials +from the Horse, to begin with. You are glad to hear it, ain’t you? Very +likely. Oh, he gives you a nice character! He makes you out a charming +set of fellows. + +He informs me, by the bye, that he is a distant relation of the pony +that was taken up in a balloon a few weeks ago; and that the pony’s +account of your going to see him at Vauxhall Gardens, is an amazing +thing. The pony says, that when he looked round on the assembled crowd, +come to see the realisation of the wood-cut in the bill, he found it +impossible to discover which was the real Mister Green—there were so +many Mister Greens—and they were all so very green! + +But, that’s the way with you. You know it is. Don’t tell me! You’d go to +see anything that other people went to see. And don’t flatter yourselves +that I am referring to “the vulgar curiosity,” as you choose to call it, +when you mean some curiosity in which you don’t participate yourselves. +The polite curiosity in this country, is as vulgar as any curiosity in +the world. + +Of course you’ll tell me, no it isn’t, but I say yes it is. What have +you got to say for yourselves about the Nepaulese Princes, I should like +to know? Why, there has been more crowding, and pressing, and pushing, +and jostling, and struggling, and striving, in genteel houses this last +season, on account of those Nepaulese Princes, than would take place in +vulgar Cremorne Gardens and Greenwich Park, at Easter time and +Whitsuntide! And what for? Do you know anything about ’em? Have you any +idea why they came here? Can you put your finger on their country in the +map? Have you ever asked yourselves a dozen common questions about its +climate, natural history, government, productions, customs, religion, +manners? Not you! Here are a couple of swarthy Princes very much out of +their element, walking about in wide muslin trousers, and sprinkled all +over with gems (like the clock-work figure on the old round platform in +the street, grown up), and they’re fashionable outlandish monsters, and +it’s a new excitement for you to get a stare at ’em. As to asking ’em to +dinner, and seeing ’em sit at table without eating in your company +(unclean animals as you are!), you fall into raptures at that. Quite +delicious, isn’t it? Ugh, you dunder-headed boobies! + +I wonder what there is, new and strange, that you _wouldn’t_ lionise, as +you call it. Can you suggest anything? It’s not a hippopotamus, I +suppose. I hear from my brother-in-law in the Zoological Gardens, that +you are always pelting away into the Regent’s Park, by thousands, to see +the hippopotamus. Oh, you’re very fond of hippopotami, ain’t you? You +study one attentively, when you _do_ see one, don’t you? You come away, +so much wiser than you went, reflecting so profoundly on the wonders of +creation—eh? + +Bah! You follow one another like wild geese, but you are not so good to +eat! + +These, however, are not the observations of my friend the Horse. _He_ +takes you, in another point of view. Would you like to read his +contribution to my Natural History of you? No? You shall then. + +He is a Cab-horse now. He wasn’t always, but he is now, and his usual +stand is close to our Proprietor’s usual stand. That’s the way we have +come into communication, we “dumb animals.” Ha, ha! Dumb, too! Oh, the +conceit of you men, because you can bother the community out of their +five wits, by making speeches! + +Well. I mentioned to this Horse that I should be glad to have his +opinions and experiences of you. Here they are: + + “At the request of my honourable friend the Raven, I proceed to offer + a few remarks in reference to the animal called Man. I have had varied + experience of this strange creature for fifteen years, and am now + driven by a Man, in the hackney cabriolet, number twelve thousand four + hundred and fifty-two. + + “The sense Man entertains of his own inferiority to the nobler + animals—and I am now more particularly referring to the Horse—has + impressed me forcibly, in the course of my career. If a Man knows a + Horse well, he is prouder of it than of any knowledge of himself, + within the range of his limited capacity. He regards it, as the sum of + all human acquisition. If he is learned in a Horse, he has nothing + else to learn. And the same remark applies, with some little + abatement, to his acquaintance with Dogs. I have seen a good deal of + Man in my time, but I think I have never met a Man who didn’t feel it + necessary to his reputation to pretend, on occasion, that he knew + something of Horses and Dogs, though he really knew nothing. As to + making us a subject of conversation, my opinion is that we are more + talked about, than history, philosophy, literature, art, and science, + all put together. I have encountered innumerable gentlemen in the + country, who were totally incapable of interest in anything but Horses + and Dogs—except Cattle. And I have always been given to understand + that they were the flower of the civilised world. + + “It is very doubtful, to me, whether there is, upon the whole, + anything Man is so ambitious to imitate, as an ostler, a jockey, a + stage coachman, a horse-dealer, or a dog-fancier. There may be some + other character which I do not immediately remember, that fires him + with emulation; but, if there be, I am sure it is connected with + Horses, or Dogs, or both. This is an unconscious compliment, on the + part of the tyrant, to the nobler animals, which I consider to be very + remarkable. I have known Lords, and Baronets, and Members of + Parliament, out of number, who have deserted every other calling, to + become but indifferent stablemen or kennelmen, and be cheated on all + hands, by the real aristocracy of those pursuits who were regularly + born to the business. + + “Ail this, I say, is a tribute to our superiority which I consider to + be very remarkable. Yet, still, I can’t quite understand it. Man can + hardly devote himself to us, in admiration of our virtues, because he + never imitates them. We Horses are as honest, though I say it, as + animals can be. If, under the pressure of circumstances, we submit to + act at a Circus, for instance, we always show that we are acting. We + never deceive anybody. We would scorn to do it. If we are called upon + to do anything in earnest, we do our best. If we are required to run a + race falsely, and to lose when we could win, we are not to be relied + upon, to commit a fraud; Man must come in at that point, and force us + to it. And the extraordinary circumstance to me, is, that Man (whom I + take to be a powerful species of Monkey) is always making us nobler + animals the instruments of his meanness and cupidity. The very name of + our kind has become a byeword for all sorts of trickery and cheating. + We are as innocent as counters at a game—and yet this creature WILL + play falsely with us! + + “Man’s opinion, good or bad, is not worth much, as any rational Horse + knows. But, justice is justice; and what I complain of, is, that + Mankind talks of us as if We had something to do with all this. They + say that such a man was ‘ruined by Horses.’ Ruined by Horses! They + can’t be open, even in that, and say he was ruined by Men; but they + lay it at _our_ stable-door! As if we ever ruined anybody, or were + ever doing anything but being ruined ourselves, in our generous desire + to fulfil the useful purposes of our existence! + + “In the same way, we get a bad name as if we were profligate company. + ‘So and so got among Horses, and it was all up with him.’ Why, _we_ + would have reclaimed him—_we_ would have made him temperate, + industrious, punctual, steady, sensible—what harm would he ever have + got from _us_, I should wish to ask? + + “Upon the whole, speaking of him as I have found him, I should + describe Man as an unmeaning and conceited creature, very seldom to be + trusted, and not likely to make advances towards the honesty of the + nobler animals. I should say that his power of warping the nobler + animals to bad purposes, and damaging their reputation by his + companionship, is, next to the art of growing oats, hay, carrots, and + clover, one of his principal attributes. He is very unintelligible in + his caprices; seldom expressing with distinctness what he wants of us; + and relying greatly on our better judgment to find out. He is cruel, + and fond of blood—particularly at a steeple-chase—and is very + ungrateful. + + “And yet, so far as I can understand, he worships us too. He sets up + images of us (not particularly like, but meant to be) in the streets, + and calls upon his fellows to admire them, and believe in them. As + well as I can make out, it is not of the least importance what images + of Men are put astride upon these images of Horses, for I don’t find + any famous personage among them—except one, and _his_ image seems to + have been contracted for, by the gross. The jockeys who ride our + statues are very queer jockeys, it appears to me, but it is something + to find Man even posthumously sensible of what he owes to us. I + believe that when he has done any great wrong to any very + distinguished Horse, deceased, he gets up a subscription to have an + awkward likeness of him made, and erects it in a public place, to be + generally venerated. I can find no other reason for the statues of us + that abound. + + “It must be regarded as a part of the inconsistency of Man, that he + erects no statues to the Donkeys—who, though far inferior animals to + ourselves, have great claims upon him. I should think a Donkey + opposite the Horse at Hyde Park, another in Trafalgar Square, and a + group of Donkeys, in brass, outside the Guildhall of the City of + London (for I believe the Common Council Chamber is inside that + building) would be pleasant and appropriate memorials. + + “I am not aware that I can suggest anything more, to my honorable + friend the Raven, which will not already have occurred to his fine + intellect. Like myself, he is the victim of brute force, and must bear + it until the present state of things is changed—as it possibly may be + in the good time which I understand is coming, if I wait a little + longer.” + +There! How do you like that? That’s the Horse! You shall have another +animal’s sentiments, soon. I have communicated with plenty ’of em, and +they are all down upon you. It’s not I alone who have found you out. You +are generally detected, I am happy to say, and shall be covered with +confusion. + +Talking about the horse, are you going to set up any more horses? Eh? +Think a bit. Come! You haven’t got horses enough yet, surely? Couldn’t +you put somebody else on horseback, and stick him up, at the cost of a +few thousands? You have already statues to most of the “benefactors of +mankind,” (SEE ADVERTISEMENT) in your principal cities. You walk through +groves of great inventors, instructors, discoverers, assuagers of pain, +preventers of disease, suggesters of purifying thoughts, doers of noble +deeds. Finish the list. Come! + +Whom will you hoist into the saddle? Let’s have a cardinal virtue! Shall +it be Faith? Hope? Charity? Aye, Charity’s the virtue to ride on +horseback! Let’s have Charity! + +How shall we represent it? Eh? What do you think? Royal? Certainly. +Duke? Of course. Charity always was typified in that way, from the time +of a certain widow, downwards. And there’s nothing less left to put up; +all the commoners who were “benefactors of mankind” having had their +statues in the public places, long ago. + +How shall we dress it? Rags? Low. Drapery? Common-place. Field-Marshal’s +uniform? The very thing! Charity in a Field-Marshal’s uniform (none the +worse for wear) with thirty thousand pounds a year, public money, in its +pocket, and fifteen thousand more, public money, up behind, will be a +piece of plain uncompromising truth in the highways, and an honor to the +country and the time. + +Ha, ha, ha! You can’t leave the memory of an unassuming, honest, +good-natured, amiable old Duke alone, without bespattering it with your +flunkeyism, can’t you? That’s right—and like you! Here are three brass +buttons in my crop. I’ll subscribe ’em all. One, to the statue of +Charity; one, to a statue of Hope; one, to a statue of Faith. For Faith, +we’ll have the Nepaulese Ambassador on horseback—being a prince. And for +Hope, we’ll put the Hippopotamus on horseback, and so make a group. + +Let’s have a meeting about it! + + + + + A SHILLING’S WORTH OF SCIENCE. + + +Dr. Paris has already shown, in a charming little book treating +scientifically of children’s toys, how easy even “philosophy in sport +can be made science in earnest.” An earlier genius cut out the whole +alphabet into the figures of uncouth animals, and enclosed them in a +toybox representing Noah’s Ark, for the purpose of teaching children +their letters. Europe, Asia, Africa, and America have been decimated; +“yea, the great globe itself,” has been parcelled into little wooden +sections, that their readjustment into a continuous map might teach the +infant conqueror of the world the relative positions of distant +countries. Archimedes might have discovered the principle of the lever +and the fundamental principles of gravity upon a rocking-horse. In like +manner he might have ascertained the laws of hydrostatics, by observing +the impetus of many natural and artificial fountains, which must +occasionally have come beneath his eye. So also the principles of +acoustics might even now be taught by the aid of a penny whistle, and +there is no knowing how much children’s nursery games may yet be +rendered subservient to the advancement of science. The famous Dr. +Cornelius Scriblerus had excellent notions on these subjects. He +determined that his son Martinus should be the most learned and +universally well-informed man of his age, and had recourse to all sorts +of devices in order to inspire him even unthinkingly with knowledge. He +determined that everything should contribute to the improvement of his +mind,—even his very dress. He therefore, his biographer informs us, +invented for him a geographical suit of clothes, which might give him +some hints of that science, and also of the commerce of different +nations. His son’s disposition to mathematics—for he was a remarkable +child—was discovered very early by his drawing parallel lines on his +bread and butter, and intersecting them at equal angles, so as to form +the whole superficies into squares. His father also wisely resolved that +he should acquire the learned languages, especially Greek,—and +remarking, curiously enough, that young Martinus Scriblerus was +remarkably fond of gingerbread, the happy idea came into his parental +head that his pieces of gingerbread should be stamped with the letters +of the Greek alphabet; and such was the child’s avidity for knowledge, +that the very first day he eat down to _iota_. + +When Sir Isaac Newton changed his residence and went to live in +Leicester Place, his next door neighbour was a widow lady, who was much +puzzled by the little she observed of the habits of the philosopher. One +of the Fellows of the Royal Society, called upon her one day, when among +other domestic news, she mentioned that some one had come to reside in +the adjoining house, who she felt certain was a poor mad gentleman. “And +why so?” asked her friend. “Because,” said she, “he diverts himself in +the oddest way imaginable. Every morning when the sun shines so brightly +that we are obliged to draw down the window-blinds, he takes his seat on +a little stool before a tub of soap-suds, and occupies himself for hours +blowing soap-bubbles through a common clay-pipe, which he intently +watches floating about until they burst. He is doubtless,” she added, +“now at his favourite diversion, for it is a fine day; do come and look +at him.” The gentleman smiled; and they went upstairs, when after +looking through the staircase window into the adjoining court-yard, he +turned round and said, “My dear lady, the person whom you suppose to be +a poor lunatic, is no other than the great Sir Isaac Newton studying the +refraction of light upon thin plates, a phenomenon which is beautifully +exhibited upon the surface of a common soap-bubble.” + +The principle, illustrated by the examples we have given, has been +efficiently followed by the Directors of the Royal Polytechnic +Institution in Regent Street, London. Even the simplest models and +objects they exhibit in their extensive halls and galleries, +expound—like Sir Isaac Newton’s soap-bubble—some important principle of +Science or Art. + +On entering the Hall of Manufactures (as we did the other day) it was +impossible not to be impressed with the conviction that we are in an +utilitarian age in which the science of Mechanics advances with +marvellous rapidity. Here we observed steam-engines, hand-looms, and +machines in active operation, surrounding us with that peculiar din +which makes the air + + “Murmur, as with the sound of summer-flies.” + +Passing into the “Gallery in the Great Hall,” we did not fail to derive +a momentary amusement, from observing the very different objects which +seemed most to excite the attention and interest of the different +sightseers. Here, stood obviously a country farmer examining the model +of a steam-plough; there, a Manchester or Birmingham manufacturer +looking into a curious and complicated weaving machine; here, we noticed +a group of ladies admiring specimens of elaborate carving in ivory, and +personal ornaments esteemed highly fashionable at the antipodes; and +there, the smiling faces of youth watching with eager eyes the little +boats and steamers paddling along the Water Reservoir in the central +counter. But we had scarcely looked around us, when a bell rang to +announce a lecture on Voltaic Electricity by Dr. Bachhoffner; and moving +with the stream of people up a short staircase, we soon found ourselves +in a very commodious and well arranged theatre. There are many +universities and public institutions that have not better lecture rooms +than this theatre in the Royal Polytechnic Institution. The lecture was +elementary and exceedingly instructive, pointing out and showing by +experiments, the identity between Magnetism and Electricity—light and +heat: but notwithstanding the extreme perspicuity of the Professor, it +was our fate to sit next two old ladies who seemed to be very +incredulous about the whole business. + +“If heat and light are the same thing,” asked one, “why don’t a flame +come out at the spout of a boiling tea-kettle?” + +“The steam,” answered the other, “may account for that.” + +“Hush!” cried somebody behind them; and the ladies were silent: but it +was plain they thought Voltaic Electricity had something to do with +conjuring, and that the lecturer might be a professor of Magic. The +lecture over, we returned to the Gallery, where we found the Diving Bell +just about to be put in operation. It is made of cast iron, and weighs +three tons; the interior being provided with seats, and lighted by +openings in the crown, upon which a plate of thick glass is secured. The +weighty instrument suspended by a massive chain to a large swing crane, +was soon in motion, when we observed our sceptical lady-friends join a +party and enter, in order, we presume, to make themselves more sure of +the truth of the diving bell than they could do of the identity between +light and heat. The Bell was soon swung round and lowered into a tank, +which holds nearly ten thousand gallons of water; but we confess our +fears for the safety of its inmates were greatly appeased, when we +learned that the whole of this reservoir of water could be emptied in +less than one minute. Slowly and steadily was the Bell drawn up again, +and we had the satisfaction of seeing the enterprising ladies and their +companions alight on _terra firma_, nothing injured excepting that they +were greatly flushed in the face. A man, clad in a water-tight dress and +surmounted with a diving helmet, next performed a variety of sub-aqueous +feats; much to the amusement and astonishment of the younger part of the +audience, one of whom shouted as he came up above the surface of the +water, “Oh! Ma’a! Don’t he look like an Ogre!” and certainly the shining +brass helmet and staring large plate-glass eyes fairly warranted such a +suggestion. The principles of the Diving Bell and of the Diving Helmet, +are too well known to require explanation; but the practical utility of +these machines is daily proved. Even while we now write, it has been +ascertained that the foundations of Blackfriars Bridge are giving way. +The bed of the river, owing to the constant ebb and flow of its waters, +has sunk some six or seven feet below its level, since the bridge was +built, thus undermining its foundation; and this effect, it is presumed, +has been greatly augmented by the removal of the old London Bridge, the +works surrounding which operated as a dam in checking the force of the +current. These machines, also, are constantly used in repairing the +bottom of docks, landing-piers, and in the construction of breakwater +works, such as those which are at present being raised at Dover Harbour. + +Among other remarkable objects in the museum of natural history we +recognised, swimming upon his shingly bed under a glass case, our old +friend the Gymnotus Electricus, or Electrical Eel. Truly, he is a +marvellous fish. The power which animals of every description possess in +adapting themselves to external and adventitious circumstances, is here +marvellously illustrated, for, notwithstanding this creature is +surrounded by the greatest possible amount of artificial circumstances, +inasmuch as instead of sporting in his own pellucid and sparkling waters +of the River Amazon, he is here confined in a glass prison, in water +artificially heated; instead of his natural food, he is here supplied +with fish not indigenous to his native country, and denied access to +fresh air, with sunlight sparkling upon the surface of the waves—he is +here surrounded by an impure and obscure atmosphere, with crowds of +people constantly moving to and fro and gazing upon him;—yet, +notwithstanding all these disadvantageous circumstances, he has +continued to thrive; nay, since we saw him, ten years ago, he has +increased in size and is apparently very healthy, notwithstanding that +he is obviously quite blind. + +This specimen of the Gymnotus Electricus was caught in the River Amazon, +and was brought over to this country by Mr. Potter, where it arrived on +the 12th of August, 1838, when he displayed it to the proprietors of the +Adelaide Gallery. In the first instance, there was some difficulty in +keeping him alive, for, whether from sickness, or sulkiness, he refused +food of every description, and is said to have eaten nothing from the +day he was taken in March, 1838, to the 19th of the following October. +He was confided upon his arrival to the care of Mr. Bradley, who placed +him in an apartment the temperature of which could be maintained at +about seventy-five degrees Fahrenheit, and acting upon the suggestions +of Baron Humboldt, he endeavoured to feed him with bits of boiled meat, +worms, frogs, fish, and bread, which were all tried in succession. But +the animal would not touch these. The plan adopted by the London +fishmongers for fattening the common Eel was then had recourse to;—a +quantity of bullock’s blood was put into the water, care being taken +that it should be changed daily, and this was attended with some +beneficial effects, as the animal gradually improved in health. In the +month of October it occurred to Mr. Bradley to tempt him with some small +fish, and the first gudgeon thrown into the water he darted at and +swallowed with avidity. From that period the same diet has been +continued, and he is now fed three times a day, and upon each occasion +is given two or three carp, or perch, or gudgeon, each weighing from two +to three ounces. In watching his movements we observed, that in swimming +about he seems to delight in rubbing himself against the gravel which +forms the bed above which he floats, and the water immediately becomes +clouded with the mucus from which he thus relieves the surface of his +body. + +When this species of fish was first discovered, marvellous accounts +respecting them were transmitted to the Royal Society: it was even said +that in the River Surinam, in the western province of Guiana, some +existed twenty feet long. The present specimen is forty inches in +length; and measures eighteen inches round the body; and his physiognomy +justifies the description given by one of the early narrators, who +remarked, that the Gymnotus “resembles one of our common eels, except +that its head is flat, and its mouth wide, like that of a cat-fish, +without teeth.” It is certainly ugly enough. On its first arrival in +England, the proprietors offered Professor Faraday (to whom this country +may possibly discover, within the next five hundred years, that it owes +something) the privilege of experimenting upon him for scientific +purposes, and the result of a great number of experiments, ingeniously +devised, and executed with great nicety, clearly proved the identity +between the electricity of the fish and the common electricity. The +shock, the circuit, the spark, were distinctly obtained; the +galvanometer was sensibly affected; chemical decompositions were +obtained; an annealed steel needle became magnetic, and the direction of +its polarity indicated a current from the anterior to the posterior +parts of the fish, through the conductors used. The force with which the +electric discharge is made is also very considerable, for this +philosopher tells us we may conclude that a single medium discharge of +the fish is at least equal to the electricity of a Leyden Battery of +fifteen jars, containing three thousand five hundred square inches of +glass, coated upon both sides, charged to its highest degree. But great +as is the force of a single discharge, the Gymnotus will sometimes give +a double, and even a triple shock, with scarcely any interval. Nor is +this all. The instinctive action it has recourse to in order to augment +the force of the shock, is very remarkable. + +The Professor one day dropped a live fish, five inches long, into the +tub; upon which the Gymnotus turned round in such a manner as to form a +coil enclosing the fish, the latter representing a diameter across it, +and the fish was struck motionless, as if lightning had passed through +the water. The Gymnotus then made a turn to look for his prey, which +having found, he bolted it, and then went about seeking for more. A +second smaller fish was then given him, which being hurt, showed little +signs of life; and this he swallowed apparently without “shocking it.” +We are informed by Dr. Williamson, in a paper he communicated some years +ago to the Royal Society, that a fish already struck motionless gave +signs of returning animation, which the Gymnotus observing, he instantly +discharged another shock, which killed it. Another curious circumstance +was observed by Professor Faraday,—the Gymnotus appeared conscious of +the difference of giving a shock to an animate and an inanimate body, +and would not be provoked to discharge its powers upon the latter. When +tormented by a glass rod, the creature in the first instance threw out a +shock, but as if he perceived his mistake, he could not be stimulated +afterwards to repeat it, although the moment the Professor touched him +with his hands, he discharged shock after shock. He refused, in like +manner, to gratify the curiosity of the philosophers, when they touched +him with metallic conductors, which he permitted them to do with +indifference. It is worthy of observation, that this is the only +specimen of the Gymnotus Electricus ever brought over alive into this +country. The great secret of preserving his life would appear to consist +in keeping the water at an even temperature—summer and winter—of +seventy-five degrees of Fahrenheit. After having been subjected to a +great variety of experiments, the creature is now permitted to enjoy the +remainder of its days in honorable peace, and the only occasion upon +which he is now disturbed, is when it is found necessary to take him out +of his shallow reservoir to have it cleaned, when he discharges angrily +enough shock after shock, which the attendants describe to be very +smart, even though he be held in several thick and well wetted cloths, +for they do not at all relish the job. + +The Gymnotus Electricus is not the only animal endowed with this very +singular power; there are other fish, especially the Torpedo and +Silurus, which are equally remarkable, and equally well known. The +peculiar structure which enters into the formation of their electrical +organs, was first examined by the eminent anatomist John Hunter, in the +Torpedo; and, very recently, Rudolphi has described their structure with +great exactness in the Gymnotus Electricus. + +Without entering into minute details, the peculiarity of the organic +apparatus of the Electrical Eel seems to consist in this, that it is +composed of numerous _laminæ_ or thin tendinous partitions, between +which exists an infinite number of small cells filled with a thickish +gelatinous fluid. These strata and cells are supplied with nerves of +unusual size, and the intensity of the electrical power is presumed to +depend on the amount of nervous energy accumulated in these cells, +whence it can be voluntarily discharged just as a muscle may be +voluntarily contracted. Furthermore, there are, it would appear, good +reasons to believe that nervous power (in whatever it may consist) and +electricity are identical. The progress of Science has already shown the +identity between heat, electricity, and magnetism;—that heat may be +concentrated into electricity, and this electricity reconverted into +heat; that electric force may be converted into magnetic force, and +Professor Faraday himself discovered how, by reacting back again, the +magnetic force can be reconverted into the electric force, and _vice +versâ_; and should the identity between electricity and nervous power be +as clearly established, one of the most important and interesting +problems in Physiology will be solved. + +Every new discovery in Science, and all improvements in Industrial Art, +the principles of which are capable of being rendered in the least +degree interesting, are in this Exhibition forthwith popularised, and +become, as it were, public property. Every individual of the great +public can at the very small cost of one shilling, claim his or her +share in the property thus attractively collected, and a small amount of +previous knowledge or natural intelligence will put the visitor in +actual possession of treasures which previously “he wot not of,” in so +amusing a manner that they will be beguiled rather than bored into his +mind. + + + + + THE GENTLEMAN BEGGAR. + + + AN ATTORNEY’S STORY. + +One morning, about five years ago, I called by appointment on Mr. John +Balance, the fashionable pawnbroker, to accompany him to Liverpool, in +pursuit for a Levanting customer,—for Balance, in addition to pawning, +does a little business in the sixty per cent. line. It rained in +torrents when the cab stopped at the passage which leads past the +pawning boxes to his private door. The cabman rang twice, and at length +Balance appeared, looming through the mist and rain in the entry, +illuminated by his perpetual cigar. As I eyed him rather impatiently, +remembering that trains wait for no man, something like a hairy dog, or +a bundle of rags, rose up at his feet, and barred his passage for a +moment. Then Balance cried out with an exclamation, in answer apparently +to a something I could not hear, “What, man alive!—slept in the +passage!—there, take that, and get some breakfast for Heaven’s sake!” So +saying, he jumped into the “Hansom,” and we bowled away at ten miles an +hour, just catching the Express as the doors of the station were +closing. My curiosity was full set,—for although Balance can be free +with his money, it is not exactly to beggars that his generosity is +usually displayed; so when comfortably ensconced in a _coupé_, I +finished with— + +“You are liberal with your money this morning: pray, how often do you +give silver to street cadgers?—because I shall know now what walk to +take when flats and sharps leave off buying law.” + +Balance, who would have made an excellent parson if he had not been bred +to a case-hardening trade, and has still a soft bit left in his heart +that is always fighting with his hard head, did not smile at all, but +looked as grim as if squeezing a lemon into his Saturday night’s punch. +He answered slowly, “A cadger—yes; a beggar—a miserable wretch, he is +now; but let me tell you, Master David, that that miserable bundle of +rags was born and bred a gentleman; the son of a nobleman, the husband +of an heiress, and has sat and dined at tables where you and I, Master +David, are only allowed to view the plate by favour of the butler. I +have lent him thousands, and been well paid. The last thing I had from +him was his court suit; and I hold now his bill for one hundred pounds +that will be paid, I expect, when he dies.” + +“Why, what nonsense you are talking! you must be dreaming this morning. +However, we are alone, I’ll light a weed, in defiance of Railway law, +you shall spin that yarn; for, true or untrue, it will fill up the time +to Liverpool.” + +“As for yarn,” replied Balance, “the whole story is short enough; and as +for truth, that you may easily find out if you like to take the trouble. +I thought the poor wretch was dead, and I own it put me out meeting him +this morning, for I had a curious dream last night.” + +“Oh, hang your dreams! Tell us about this gentleman beggar that bleeds +you of half-crowns—that melts the heart even of a pawnbroker!” + +“Well, then, that beggar is the illegitimate son of the late Marquis of +Hoopborough by a Spanish lady of rank. He received a first-rate +education, and was brought up in his father’s house. At a very early age +he obtained an appointment in a public office, was presented by the +marquis at court, and received into the first society, where his +handsome person and agreeable manners made him a great favourite. Soon +after coming of age, he married the daughter of Sir E. Bumper, who +brought him a very handsome fortune, which was strictly settled on +herself. They lived in splendid style, kept several carriages, a house +in town, and a place in the country. For some reason or other, idleness, +or to please his lady’s pride he said, he resigned his appointment. His +father died, and left him nothing; indeed, he seemed at that time very +handsomely provided for. + +“Very soon Mr. and Mrs. Molinos Fitz-Roy began to disagree. She was +cold, correct—he was hot and random. He was quite dependant on her, and +she made him feel it. When he began to get into debt, he came to me. At +length some shocking quarrel occurred; some case of jealousy on the +wife’s side, not without reason, I believe; and the end of it was Mr. +Fitz-Roy was turned out of doors. The house was his wife’s, the +furniture was his wife’s, and the fortune was his wife’s—he was, in +fact, her pensioner. He left with a few hundred pounds ready money, and +some personal jewellery, and went to an hotel. On these and credit he +lived. Being illegitimate, he had no relations; being a fool, when he +spent his money he lost his friends. The world took his wife’s part, +when they found she had the fortune, and the only parties who interfered +were her relatives, who did their best to make the quarrel incurable. To +crown all, one night he was run over by a cab, was carried to a +hospital, and lay there for months, and was during several weeks of the +time unconscious. A message to the wife, by the hands of one of his +debauched companions, sent by a humane surgeon, obtained an intimation +that ‘if he died, Mr. Croak, the undertaker to the family, had orders to +see to the funeral,’ and that Mrs. Molinos was on the point of starting +for the Continent, not to return for some years. When Fitz-Roy was +discharged, he came to me limping on two sticks, to pawn his court suit, +and told me his story. I was really sorry for the fellow, such a +handsome, thoroughbred-looking man. He was going then into the west +somewhere, to try to hunt out a friend. ‘What to do, Balance,’ he said, +‘I don’t know. I can’t dig, and unless somebody will make me their +gamekeeper, I must starve, or beg, as my Jezebel bade me when we +parted!’ + +“I lost sight of Molinos for a long time, and when I next came upon him +it was in the Rookery of Westminster, in a low lodging-house, where I +was searching with an officer for stolen goods. He was pointed out to me +as the ‘gentleman cadger,’ because he was so free with his money when +‘in luck.’ He recognised me, but turned away then. I have since seen +him, and relieved him more than once, although he never asks for +anything. How he lives, Heaven knows. Without money, without friends, +without useful education of any kind, he tramps the country, as you saw +him, perhaps doing a little hop-picking or hay-making, in season, only +happy when he obtains the means to get drunk. I have heard through the +kitchen whispers that you know come to me, that he is entitled to some +property; and I expect if he were to die his wife would pay the hundred +pound bill I hold; at any rate, what I have told you I know to be true, +and the bundle of rags I relieved just now is known in every thieves’ +lodging in England as the ‘gentleman cadger.’” + +This story produced an impression on me,—I am fond of speculation, and +like the excitement of a legal hunt as much as some do a fox-chase. A +gentleman a beggar, a wife rolling in wealth, rumours of unknown +property due to the husband: it seemed as if there were pickings for me +amidst this carrion of pauperism. + +Before returning from Liverpool, I had purchased the gentleman beggar’s +acceptance from Balance. I then inserted in the “Times” the following +advertisement: “_Horatio Molinos Fitz-Roy_.—If this gentleman will apply +to David Discount, Esq., Solicitor, St. James’s, he will hear of +something to his advantage. Any person furnishing Mr. F.’s correct +address, shall receive 1_l._ 1_s._ reward. He was last seen,” &c. Within +twenty-four hours I had ample proof of the wide circulation of the +“Times.” My office was besieged with beggars of every degree, men and +women, lame and blind, Irish, Scotch, and English, some on crutches, +some in bowls, some in go-carts. They all knew him as “the gentleman,” +and I must do the regular fraternity of tramps the justice to say that +not one would answer a question until he made certain that I meant the +“gentleman” no harm. + +One evening, about three weeks after the appearance of the +advertisement, my clerk announced “another beggar.” There came in an old +man leaning upon a staff, clad in a soldier’s great coat all patched and +torn, with a battered hat, from under which a mass of tangled hair fell +over his shoulders and half concealed his face. The beggar, in a weak, +wheezy, hesitating tone, said, “You have advertised for Molinos +Fitz-roy, I hope you don’t mean him any harm; he is sunk, I think, too +low for enmity now; and surely no one would sport with such misery as +his.” These last words were uttered in a sort of piteous whisper. + +I answered quickly, “Heaven forbid I should sport with misery: I mean +and hope to do him good, as well as myself.” + +“Then, Sir, I am Molinos Fitz-Roy!” + +While we were conversing candles had been brought in. I have not very +tender nerves—my head would not agree with them—but I own I started and +shuddered when I saw and knew that the wretched creature before me was +under thirty years of age and once a gentleman. Sharp, aquiline +features, reduced to literal skin and bone, were begrimed and covered +with dry fair hair; the white teeth of the half-open mouth chattered +with eagerness, and made more hideous the foul pallor of the rest of the +countenance. As he stood leaning on a staff half bent, his long, yellow +bony fingers clasped over the crutch-head of his stick, he was indeed a +picture of misery, famine, squalor, and premature age, too horrible to +dwell upon. I made him sit down, sent for some refreshment which he +devoured like a ghoul, and set to work to unravel his story. It was +difficult to keep him to the point; but with pains I learned what +convinced me that he was entitled to some property, whether great or +small there was no evidence. On parting, I said “Now Mr. F., you must +stay in town while I make proper enquiries. What allowance will be +enough to keep you comfortably?” + +He answered humbly after much pressing, “Would you think ten shillings +too much?” + +I don’t like, if I do those things at all, to do them shabbily, so I +said, “Come every Saturday and you shall have a pound.” He was profuse +in thanks of course, as all such men are as long as distress lasts. + +I had previously learned that my ragged client’s wife was in England, +living in a splendid house in Hyde Park Gardens, under her maiden name. +On the following day the Earl of Owing called upon me, wanting five +thousand pounds by five o’clock the same evening. It was a case of life +or death with him, so I made my terms and took advantage of his pressure +to execute a _coup de main_. I proposed that he should drive me home to +receive the money, calling at Mrs. Molinos in Hyde Park Gardens, on our +way. I knew that the coronet and liveries of his father, the Marquis, +would ensure me an audience with Mrs. Molinos Fitz-Roy. + +My scheme answered. I was introduced into the lady’s presence. She was, +and probably is, a very stately, handsome woman, with a pale complexion, +high solid forehead, regular features, thin, pinched, self-satisfied +mouth. My interview was very short. I plunged into the middle of the +affair, but had scarcely mentioned the word husband, when she +interrupted me with “I presume you have lent this profligate person +money, and want me to pay you.” She paused, and then said, “He shall not +have a farthing.” As she spoke, her white face became scarlet. + +“But, Madam, the man is starving. I have strong reasons for believing he +is entitled to property, and if you refuse any assistance, I must take +other measures.” She rang the bell, wrote something rapidly on a card; +and, as the footman appeared, pushed it towards me across the table, +with the air of touching a toad, saying, “There, Sir, is the address of +my solicitors; apply to them if you think you have any claim. Robert, +show the person out, and take care he is not admitted again.” + +So far I had effected nothing; and, to tell the truth, felt rather +crest-fallen under the influence of that grand manner peculiar to +certain great ladies and to all great actresses. + +My next visit was to the attorneys Messrs. Leasem and Fashun, of +Lincoln’s Inn Square, and there I was at home. I had had dealings with +the firm before. They are agents for half the aristocracy, who always +run in crowds like sheep after the same wine-merchants, the same +architects, the same horse-dealers, and the same law-agents. It may be +doubted whether the quality of law and land management they get on this +principle is quite equal to their wine and horses. At any rate, my +friends of Lincoln’s Inn, like others of the same class, are +distinguished by their courteous manners, deliberate proceedings, +innocence of legal technicalities, long credit and heavy charges. +Leasem, the elder partner, wears powder and a huge bunch of seals, lives +in Queen Square, drives a brougham, gives the dinners and does the +cordial department. He is so strict in performing the latter duty, that +he once addressed a poacher who had shot a Duke’s keeper, as “my dear +creature,” although he afterwards hung him. + +Fashun has chambers in St. James Street, drives a cab, wears a tip, and +does the grand haha style. + +My business lay with Leasem. The interviews and letters passing were +numerous. However, it came at last to the following dialogue:— + +“Well, my dear Mr. Discount,” began Mr. Leasem, who hates me like +poison. “I’m really very sorry for that poor dear Molinos—knew his +father well; a great man, a perfect gentleman; but you know what women +are, eh, Mr. Discount? My client won’t advance a shilling, she knows it +would only be wasted in low dissipation. Now don’t you think (this was +said very insinuatingly)—don’t you think he had better be sent to the +workhouse; very comfortable accommodation there, I can assure you—meat +twice a week, and excellent soup; and then, Mr. D., we might consider +about allowing you something for that bill.” + +“Mr. Leasem, can you reconcile it to your conscience to make such an +arrangement. Here’s a wife rolling in luxury, and a husband starving!” + +“No, Mr. Discount, not starving; there is the workhouse, as I observed +before; besides, allow me to suggest that these appeals to feeling are +quite unprofessional—quite unprofessional.” + +“But, Mr. Leasem, touching this property which the poor man is entitled +to.” + +“Why, there again, Mr. D., you must excuse me; you really must. I don’t +say he is, I don’t say he is not. If you know he is entitled to +property, I am sure you know how to proceed; the law is open to you, Mr. +Discount—the law is open; and a man of your talent will know how to use +it.” + +“Then, Mr. Leasem, you mean that I must, in order to right this starving +man, file a Bill of Discovery, to extract from you the particulars of +his rights. You have the Marriage Settlement, and all the information, +and you decline to allow a pension, or afford any information; the man +is to starve, or go to the workhouse?” + +“Why, Mr. D., you are so quick and violent, it really is not +professional; but you see (here a subdued smile of triumph), it has been +decided that a solicitor is not bound to afford such information as you +ask, to the injury of his client.” + +“Then you mean that this poor Molinos may rot and starve, while you keep +secret from him, at his wife’s request, his title to an income, and that +the Court of Chancery will back you in this iniquity?” + +I kept repeating the word “starve,” because I saw it made my respectable +opponent wince. “Well, then, just listen to me. I know that in the happy +state of our equity law, Chancery can’t help my client; but I have +another plan; I shall go hence to my office, issue a writ, and take your +client’s husband in execution—as soon as he is lodged in jail, I shall +file his schedule in the Insolvent Court, and when he comes up for his +discharge, I shall put you in the witness-box, and examine you on oath, +‘touching any property of which you know the insolvent to be possessed,’ +and where will be your privileged communications then?” + +The respectable Leasem’s face lengthened in a twinkling, his comfortable +confident air vanished, he ceased twiddling his gold chain, and at +length he muttered, “Suppose we pay the debt?” + +“Why then, I’ll arrest him the day after for another.” + +“But, my dear Mr. Discount, surely such conduct would not be quite +respectable?” + +“That’s my business; my client has been wronged, I am determined to +right him, and when the aristocratic firm of Leasem and Fashun takes +refuge according to the custom of respectable repudiators, in the cool +arbours of the Court of Chancery, why, a mere bill-discounting attorney +like David Discount need not hesitate about cutting a bludgeon out of +the Insolvent Court.” + +“Well, well, Mr. D., you are so warm—so fiery; we must deliberate, we +must consult. You will give me until the day after to-morrow, and then +we’ll write you our final determination; in the mean time, send us copy +of your authority to act for Mr. Molinos Fitz-Roy.” + +Of course I lost no time in getting the gentleman beggar to sign a +proper letter. + +On the appointed day came a communication with the L. and F. seal, which +I opened not without unprofessional eagerness. It was as follows: + + “_In re Molinos Fitz-Roy and Another._ + + “Sir,—In answer to your application on behalf of Mr. Molinos Fitz-Roy, + we beg to inform you that under the administration of a paternal aunt + who died intestate, your client is entitled to two thousand five + hundred pounds eight shillings and sixpence, Three per Cents.; one + thousand five hundred pounds nineteen shillings and fourpence, Three + per Cents. Reduced; one thousand pounds, Long Annuities; five hundred + pounds, Bank Stock; three thousand five hundred pounds, India Stock, + besides other securities, making up about ten thousand pounds, which + we are prepared to transfer over to Mr. Molinos Fitz-Roy’s direction + forthwith.” + +Here was a windfall! It quite took away my breath. + +At dusk came my gentleman beggar, and what puzzled me was how to break +the news to him. Being very much overwhelmed with business that day, I +had not much time for consideration. He came in rather better dressed +than when I first saw him, with only a week’s beard on his chin; but, as +usual, not quite sober. Six weeks had elapsed since our first interview. +He was still the humble, trembling, low-voiced creature, I first knew +him. + +After a prelude, I said, “I find, Mr. F., you are entitled to something; +pray, what do you mean to give me in addition to my bill, for obtaining +it?” He answered rapidly, “Oh, take half: if there is one hundred +pounds, take half: if there is five hundred pounds, take half.” + +“No, no; Mr. F., I don’t do business in that way, I shall be satisfied +with ten per cent.” + +It was so settled. I then led him out into the street, impelled to tell +him the news, yet dreading the effect; not daring to make the revelation +in my office, for fear of a scene. + +I began hesitatingly, “Mr. Fitz-Roy I am happy to say that I find you +are entitled to ... ten thousand pounds!” + +“Ten thousand pounds!” he echoed. “Ten thousand pounds!” he shrieked. +“Ten thousand pounds!” he yelled; seizing my arm violently. “You are a +brick,——Here, cab! cab!” Several drove up—the shout might have been +heard a mile off. He jumped in the first. + +“Where to?” said the driver. + +“To a tailor’s, you rascal!” + +“Ten thousand pounds! ha, ha, ha!” he repeated hysterically, when in the +cab; and every moment grasping my arm. Presently he subsided, looked me +straight in the face, and muttered with agonising fervour, “What a jolly +brick you are!” + +The tailor, the hosier, the bootmaker, the hairdresser, were in turn +visited by this poor pagan of externals. As by degrees under their hands +he emerged from the beggar to the gentleman, his spirits rose; his eyes +brightened; he walked erect, but always nervously grasping my arm; +fearing, apparently, to lose sight of me for a moment, lest his fortune +should vanish with me. The impatient pride with which he gave his orders +to the astonished tradesman for the finest and best of everything, and +the amazed air of the fashionable hairdresser when he presented his +matted locks and stubble chin, to be “cut and shaved,” may be _acted_—it +cannot be described. + +By the time the external transformation was complete, and I sat down in +a _Café_ in the Haymarket opposite a haggard but handsome +thoroughbred-looking man, whose air, with the exception of the wild eyes +and deeply browned face, did not differ from the stereotyped men about +town sitting around us, Mr. Molinos Fitz-Roy had already almost +forgotten the past; he bullied the waiter, and criticised the wine, as +if he had done nothing else but dine and drink and scold there all the +days of his life. + +Once he wished to drink my health, and would have proclaimed his whole +story to the coffee-room assembly, in a raving style. When I left he +almost wept in terror at the idea of losing sight of me. But, allowing +for these ebullitions—the natural result of such a whirl of events—he +was wonderfully calm and self-possessed. + +The next day, his first care was to distribute fifty pounds among his +friends the cadgers, at a house of call in Westminster, and formally to +dissolve his connection with them; those present undertaking for the +“fraternity,” that for the future he should never be noticed by them in +public or private. + +I cannot follow his career much further. Adversity had taught him +nothing. He was soon again surrounded by the well-bred vampires who had +forgotten him when penniless; but they amused him, and that was enough. +The ten thousand pounds were rapidly melting when he invited me to a +grand dinner at Richmond, which included a dozen of the most agreeable, +good-looking, well-dressed dandies of London, interspersed with a +display of pretty butterfly bonnets. We dined deliciously, and drank as +men do of iced wines in the dog-days—looking down from Richmond Hill. + +One of the pink bonnets crowned Fitz-Roy with a wreath of flowers; he +looked—less the intellect—as handsome as Alcibiades. Intensely excited +and flushed, he rose with a champagne glass in his hand to propose my +health. + +The oratorical powers of his father had not descended on him. Jerking +out sentences by spasms, at length he said, “I was a beggar—I am a +gentleman—thanks to this——” + +Here he leaned on my shoulder heavily a moment, and then fell back. We +raised him, loosened his neckcloth— + +“Fainted!” said the ladies— + +“Drunk!” said the gentlemen— + +He was _dead_! + + + + + CHIPS. + + + FAMILY COLONISATION LOAN SOCIETY. + +If on any Saturday you should chance to find your way to Charlton +Crescent, an obscure thoroughfare lying between the road from Islington +to Holloway and the New River, not far from the Angel, you will see +several men and women dropping into a small house, the parlour window of +which contains a printed bill with the above words. The callers are +chiefly of the decent mechanic class, and not a few travellers from the +country,—pilgrims in search of truth about emigration. Saturday is the +day on which the subscriptions of emigrants desiring to avail themselves +of the Family Colonisation Loan Society are received. + +And what is the Colonisation Loan Society? The question is worth asking. + +It is an association—devised by Mrs. Chisholm, and to be speedily +carried out extensively with the aid of several philanthropists, and the +advice of two eminent actuaries—for establishing a self-supporting +system of emigration, for assisting industrious people, and for +promoting practically the spread of sound moral principles in a much +neglected colony. + +Persons desirous of emigrating form themselves into “groups,” after +being mutually satisfied of their respective suitability and +respectability. Each intending emigrant pays, either in one sum or by +weekly instalments, as much as will amount to half the passage money to +Australia. The philanthropists of the society lend the other half to be +repaid by four annual instalments,—each family becoming jointly bound +for the sums lent to each member of that family, and each group being +publicly pledged to assist in enforcing punctual repayments. + +The details for securing repayment of the loans have been arranged by +Mrs. Chisholm, and are the result of her large practical experience. +Each emigrant, when he has paid back his loan, will have the privilege +of nominating a relation or friend to be assisted in emigrating with the +same amount of money. Thus, the original charitable fund will work in a +circle of colonisation, at the mere sacrifice of annual interest. That +emigrants among the humble classes are willing to remit for the purpose +of assisting their friends and relations to follow them, is proved by +the fact that, within the last three years, upwards of one million +sterling has been remitted by the Irish emigrants from the United States +alone, in small sums, to pay the passage of parents, brothers, sisters, +wives, or sweethearts in Ireland. Australia, in proportion to its +population, affords even greater opportunities of earning money wages +than the United States. + +Mrs. Chisholm’s plan offers several advantages of an important +character. It will enable many to emigrate who, though frugal and +industrious, are not only unable to raise _the whole_ passage money; +but, during temporary trade-depressions, would be consuming their +savings. It will keep families united, and cherish an honourable, +independent spirit. It will secure a class of emigrants calculated to +improve the moral tone of the colony; for, as the character of each +emigrant will be investigated by his fellows, there will be no room for +the deceptions practised on the wealthy charitable. The certificate of +shop-mates with whom a man has worked, is more to be trusted than that +of the clergyman who has only seen him in his Sunday clothes. It will +afford the best kind of protection for young girls or single women +desirous of joining friends in Australia, because each ship will be +filled with “groups” previously acquainted and mutually _sifted_. Among +minor advantages, the cost of passage and outfit, by the aid of +co-operation and communication, will be much diminished. + +The two following instances will display the practical working of Mrs. +Chisholm’s plan. Among the applicants to join the Society (for already +the working-classes are prepared to subscribe two thousand pounds) was +an artisan in the North, belonging to a trade which “strikes” +periodically. When contemplating these “strikes,” the leaders of the +trade base their financial arrangements for supporting the body while +out of work, upon the savings made by the more frugal of their +associates. The artisan in question being a Teetotaller and skilful, had +three times been able to save from fifteen to twenty pounds, with the +express design of emigrating; but twice his stock of cash had been +melted in the common treasury during strikes. With the assistance of a +loan from the Society, he will now be able to emigrate. There can be no +fear of such a man not repaying it honourably. Had he been able to +emigrate a few years ago, he must have been wealthy by this time, and in +a position to help all his relatives to join him. + +Again, a benevolent Dowager Countess has subscribed two hundred and +twenty-five pounds to this Society; a sum which has been appropriated to +assisting the following parties in making up their passage money to +Australia. Let us see what this money will do:— + + It will send three wives with nine children, out to join husbands in + Australia. + + Two aged widows who have children there. + + Ditto a man and wife, who have children there. + + M. and wife, with five children. + + H. and wife. + + P. and wife, with three children. + + L. and wife, with seven children. (This man has received the + insufficient sum of fifty pounds to pay his passage from a brother in + Australia.) + + W. and wife, with four children (have received twenty-five pounds from + Australia for same purpose). + + Five young men, of whom three have relations in the Colony. + + Nine friendless young women, of whom four have relations there. + +Thus it will be seen this two hundred and twenty-five pound loan affords + + A passage, to Adults 31 + Children 28 + —— + Total 59 + +At the end of the first year after the arrival of these persons, there +will be available for assisting other friends and relatives of this +batch of fifty-nine to join them, about forty pounds; at the end of the +second year, about sixty pounds; third year, about eighty pounds; fourth +year, about one hundred and twenty pounds. + +This system sacrifices no independence; incurs scarcely any weight of +obligation. It affords the best possible kind of assistance; for it +helps those who help themselves, and puts it in their power to help +their fellows. + + + + + THE STRANGERS’ LEAF FOR 1851. + + +Among the myriads of products of art, science, and manufactures, to be +congregated under Mr. Paxton’s great glass house in Hyde Park next year, +it is to be hoped that the newspaper press will not be unrepresented. We +do not mean model morning papers, displaying several square acres of +advertisements, or news conveyed from the other hemisphere, by steam and +electricity, since the previous morning; but a modest sheet, in the +humble guise of a miniature Morning Post (like the Morning Post of old), +for the registry of the names and “up-puttings” of the tens of thousands +of strangers who will inevitably be thrusting themselves into London, +like needles in bundles of hay, where nobody can find them. Such a +humble record as we propose already exists, and we will describe it:— + +About three years since, a brother of the well-known German philosopher, +Heine, established a paper in Vienna, called the “_Fremden Blatt_,” or +“Strangers’ Leaf.” One of its chief objects is to give the names and +residences of such strangers as arrive daily in the capital, and the +dates of their departure. It is printed on a sheet about the size of a +lady’s pocket-handkerchief. It costs rather less than a penny; the +expenses of conducting it are trifling, and its circulation is very +extensive. There is not an hotel or coffee-house, not a lounge, or a +pastry-cook’s shop (the chief place of resort in Vienna), which does not +take it in, and indeed, among the idlers and triflers—a very large class +of every population—it is the only paper read at all. + +It will, perhaps, however, give a better idea of it to analyse the +contents of the number for July 31st, 1850, now before us. The first +column, and two-thirds of the second, is devoted to intelligence +connected with Austria and the provinces; all short paragraphs, most of +them of only three or four lines. Their matter concerns the movements of +persons of note, and such military and civil appointments, promotions, +and retirements, as are likely to be of general interest. If they touch +upon any other news, the bare fact is related without comment of any +kind. In the next column, Foreign news—including the exciting +intelligence from Schleswig Holstein—are disposed of in a dozen +paragraphs, containing, however, quite as much as it is necessary to +know to be on equal terms with one’s friends after dinner. Then come the +domestic _on dits_ of Vienna with the current topics of conversation and +a spice or two of scandal; by no means to be imitated here, or anywhere +else. Births, deaths, marriages, accidents and offences, follow. All +this is, however, merely the prelude. The rise and fall of nations, the +mere change of a dynasty, or the details of an earthquake, are but +accessories to the grand aim, end, and purpose of the Fremden Blatt’s +existence. As Sarah Battle relaxed from the serious business of whist, +to unbend over a book, so the editor of the Strangers’ Leaf dallies with +the great globe itself and its most terrific catastrophes to recreate +the minds of his readers previous to the study of—“arrivals and +departures.” Upon these the editor fastens all his care—all his genius. +They are alphabetically arranged with great precision. They are his +leading article. Should a mistake occur in geography, or should he be a +few thousands out in his statistics, it is nothing; but the accidental +mis-spelling of a title of ten syllables; if he happen to leave out a +“z” in the name of Count Sczorowszantzski; he inserts, next morning, an +apologetic “erratum” of great length. + +The utility of such a register in London, at the approaching Industrial +Fair, as we presume to call it, is easily seen. Let us suppose Count +Smorltork arriving in England with the intention of writing an account +of the Exposition. He has only a few days to make his observations; and +it is not till he has driven half over London, that he discovers of Lord +Tomnoddy and Sir Carnaby Jenks—from whom he expects to derive his chief +information—that one is at Leamington, and the other in Scotland. Or we +may imagine Dr. Dommheit, with the grave Senor Eriganados, and their +volatile coadjutor, M. de Tête-vide, arriving in our capital on a +scientific excursion. It costs them a month’s income in messengers and +cab-fares, and a week’s waiting while their strangely spelt letters are +decyphered at the Post-Office, before they learn that Mr. Crypt is off +with Lord Rhomboid and the Chrononhotonthologos Society, somewhere in +the provinces; Dr. Dryasdust is looking for antiquities in the Hebrides; +and the oracle of their tribe, Earl Everlasting—having been left alone +with the secretary and the porter at the sixth hour of the reading of +his paper on the antediluvian organisms of a piece of slate—has gone +down to his “place” in Dorsetshire in a huff. On the other hand, the +famous Dr. Ledern Langweile, Monsieur de Papillon-Sauvage, and the great +Condé Hermosa-Muchacha-Quieres, are going crazy because they cannot find +each other; yet all are perhaps dwelling within a stone’s throw of each +other; perhaps in the same street or square—most probably Leicester +Square, which they have been given to understand is the most fashionable +quarter of the town. This is exactly the condition of things which may +be expected without such a register of names and addresses as we +suggest. + +To our own men about town, also, or to “ladies of condition,” as +Addison’s Spectator has it, the Strangers’ Leaf will be invaluable. None +have so little time as the idle; and how severely Indolence will have to +work for the benefit of its foreign and provincial friends in 1851, it +must tremble to anticipate. To relieve it a little, some such means as +we suggest should be adopted, for allowing Indolence to find out easily +those strangers who have been recommended to his attention and good +offices. One glance at a list of “arrivals” would save it a world of +trouble. + +The duties of the editor of the “London Strangers’ Leaf” would not be +very onerous. The names and intended addresses of every individual +coming from abroad it will not be difficult to obtain. To reach us +Islanders every visitor must arrive by sea, and at each port we are +blessed with a customhouse. The captain of every steamer is bound for +customhouse purposes to have the name of each of his passengers set down +in a sort of Way-bill; and, for a slight consideration, the person who +performs that office (generally the steward), would doubtless learn and +add the address to which each of the passengers is going in London. An +arrangement with a customhouse clerk at each of the ports could be made +for forwarding daily a copy of the list. Thus a complete record of +arrivals from abroad could be obtained with little trouble. The names +and lodgings of persons from the provinces would be more difficult of +access; but a good understanding with hotel-keepers, and some assistance +from the “Lodging-house Committee” (for of course there will be one,) of +the Executive of the Great Congress, would insure the editor a tolerably +complete “List of the Company” who assemble, even from the country. The +“Strangers’ Leaf” might be published early each afternoon so as to give +the arrivals of the morning. + +It is not to be doubted that at the essentially Industrial Meeting of +1851, the _Chevaliers d’Industrie_ of all nations will make it their +especial business to attend in large numbers. _Their_ names, personal +appearance, addresses, and achievements, it would be very useful to +record in “the Strangers’ Leaf.” To our excellent friends the Detectives +the benefit would be great and reciprocal: for they would not only +derive, but contribute much useful information. As a kind of “Hue and +Cry,” of a more refined and fashionable kind, the proposed sheet would +be invaluable. + +Should any enterprising gentleman, literary or otherwise, make the +experiment, it may possibly turn out not only useful but profitable. +Should such a speculation be deemed too undignified, we would silence +the objection with a remark from Macaulay’s Essay on the life of Bacon, +to the effect that Nothing is too insignificant for the attention of the +wisest, which may be of advantage to the smallest in the community. + + + + + NO HOSPITAL FOR INCURABLES. + + +It is an extraordinary fact that among the innumerable medical charities +with which this country abounds, there is not one for the help of those +who of all others most require succour, and who must die, and do die in +thousands, neglected, unaided. There are hospitals for the cure of every +possible ailment or disease known to suffering humanity, but not one for +the reception of persons past cure. There are, indeed, small charities +for incurables scattered over the country—like the asylum for a few +females afflicted with incurable diseases, at Leith, which was built, +and solely supported by Miss Gladstone; and a few hospital wards, like +the Cancer ward of Middlesex, and the ward for seven incurable patients +in the Westminster; but a large hospital for incurables, does not exist. + +The case of a poor servant girl which lately came to our knowledge, is +the case of thousands. She was afflicted with a disease to which the +domestics of the middle classes, especially, are very liable—white +swelling of the knee. On presenting herself at the hospitals, it was +found that an operation would be certain death; and that, in short, +being incurable, she could not be admitted. She had no relations; and +crawling back to a miserable lodging, she lay helpless till her small +savings were exhausted. Privations of the severest kind followed; and +despite the assistance of some benevolent persons who learnt her +condition when it was too late, she died a painful and wretched death. + +It is indeed a marvellous oversight of benevolence that sympathy should +have been so long withheld from precisely the sufferers who most need +it. Hopeless pain, allied to hopeless poverty, is a condition of +existence not to be thought of without a shudder. It is a slow journey +through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, from which we save even the +greatest criminals. + +When the law deems it necessary to deprive a human being of life, the +anguish, though sharp, is short. We do not doom him to the lingering +agony with which innocent misfortune is allowed to make its slow descent +into the grave. + + + + + SORROWS AND JOYS. + + + Bury thy sorrows, and they shall rise + As souls to the immortal skies, + And then look down like mothers’ eyes. + + But let thy joys be fresh as flowers, + That suck the honey of the showers, + And bloom alike on huts and towers. + + So shall thy days be sweet and bright,— + Solemn and sweet thy starry night,— + Conscious of love each change of light. + + The stars will watch the flowers asleep, + The flowers will feel the soft stars weep, + And both will mix sensations deep. + + With these below, with those above, + Sits evermore the brooding Dove, + Uniting both in bonds of love. + + Children of Earth are these; and those + The spirits of intense repose— + Death radiant o’er all human woes. + + For both by nature are akin;— + Sorrow, the ashen fruit of sin, + And joy, the juice of life within. + + O, make thy sorrows holy—wise— + So shall their buried memories rise, + Celestial, e’en in mortal skies. + + O, think what then had been their doom, + If all unshriven—without a tomb— + They had been left to haunt the gloom! + + O, think again what they will be + Beneath God’s bright serenity, + When thou art in eternity! + + For they, in their salvation, know + No vestige of their former woe, + While thro’ them all the Heavens do flow. + + Thus art thou wedded to the skies, + And watched by ever-loving eyes, + And warned by yearning sympathies. + + + + + THE HOME OF WOODRUFFE THE GARDENER. + + + IN EIGHT CHAPTERS.—CHAPTER I. + +“How pleased the boy looks, to be sure!” observed Woodruffe to his wife, +as his son Allan caught up little Moss (as Maurice had chosen to call +himself before he could speak plain) and made him jump from the top of +the drawers upon the chair, and then from the chair to the ground. “He +is making all that racket just because he is so pleased he does not know +what to do with himself.” + +“I suppose he will forgive Fleming now for carrying off Abby,” said the +mother. “I say, Allan, what do you think now of Abby marrying away from +us?” + +“Why, I think it’s a very good thing. You know she never told me that we +should go and live where she lived, and in such a pretty place, too, +where I may have a garden of my own, and see what I can make of it—all +fresh from the beginning, as father says.” + +“You are to try your hand at the business, I know,” replied the mother, +“but I never heard your father, nor any one else, say that the place was +a pretty one. I did not think new railway stations had been pretty +places at all.” + +“It sounds so to him, naturally,” interposed Woodruffe. “He hears of a +south aspect, and a slope to the north for shelter, and the town seen +far off; and that sounds all very pleasant. And then, there is the +thought of the journey, and the change, and the fun of getting the +ground all into nice order, and, best of all, the seeing his sister so +soon again. Youth is the time for hope and joy, you know, love.” + +And Woodruffe began to whistle, and stepped forward to take his turn at +jumping Moss, whom he carried in one flight from the top of the drawers +to the floor. Mrs. Woodruffe smiled, as she thought that youth was not +the only season, with some people, for hope and joy. + +Her husband, always disposed to look on the bright side; was +particularly happy this evening. The lease of his market-garden ground +was just expiring. He had prospered on it; and would have desired +nothing better than to live by it as long as he lived at all. He desired +this so much that he would not believe a word of what people had been +saying for two years past, that his ground would be wanted by his +landlord on the expiration of the lease, and that it would not be let +again. His wife had long foreseen this; but not till the last moment +would he do what she thought should have been done long before—offer to +buy the ground. At the ordinary price of land, he could accomplish the +purchase of it; but when he found his landlord unwilling to sell, he bid +higher and higher, till his wife was so alarmed at the rashness, that +she was glad when a prospect of entire removal opened. Woodruffe was +sure that he could have paid off all he offered at the end of a few +years; but his partner thought it would have been a heavy burden on +their minds, and a sad waste of money; and she was therefore, in her +heart, obliged to the landlord for persisting in his refusal to sell. + +When that was settled, Woodruffe became suddenly sure that he could pick +up an acre or two of land somewhere not far off. But he was mistaken; +and, if he had not been mistaken, market-gardening was no longer the +profitable business it had been, when it enabled him to lay by something +every year. By the opening of a railway, the townspeople, a few miles +off, got themselves better supplied with vegetables from another +quarter. It was this which put it into the son-in-law’s head to propose +the removal of the family into Staffordshire, where he held a small +appointment on a railway. Land might be had at a low rent near the +little country station where his business lay; and the railway brought +within twenty minutes’ distance a town where there must be a +considerable demand for garden produce. The place was in a raw state at +present; and there were so few houses, that, if there had been a choice +of time, the Flemings would rather have put off the coming of the family +till some of the cottages already planned had been built; but the +Woodruffes must remove in September, and all parties agreed that they +should not mind a little crowding for a few months. Fleming’s cottage +was to hold them all till some chance of more accommodation should +offer. + +“I’ll tell you what,” said Woodruffe, after standing for some time, half +whistling and thinking, with that expression on his face which his wife +had long learned to be afraid of, “I’ll write to-morrow—let’s see—I may +as well do it to-night;” and he looked round for paper and ink. “I’ll +write to Fleming, and get him to buy the land for me at once.” + +“Before you see it?” said his wife, looking up from her stocking +mending. + +“Yes. I know all about it, as much as if I were standing on it this +moment; and I am sick of this work—of being turned out just when I had +made the most of a place, and got attached to it. I’ll make a sure thing +of it this time, and not have such a pull at my heartstrings again. And +the land will be cheaper now than later; and we shall go to work upon it +with such heart, if it is our own! Eh?” + +“Certainly, if we find, after seeing it, that we like it as well as we +expect. I would just wait till then.” + +“As well as we expect! Why, bless my soul! don’t we know all about it? +It is not any land-agent or interested person, that has described it to +us; but our own daughter and her husband; and do not they know what we +want? The quantity at my own choice; the aspect capital; plenty of water +(only too much, indeed); the soil anything but poor, and sand and marl +within reach to reduce the stiffness; and manure at command, all along +the railway, from half-a-dozen towns; and osier beds at hand (within my +own bounds if I like) giving all manner of convenience for fencing, and +binding, and covering! Why, what would you have?” + +“It sounds very pleasant, certainly.” + +“Then, how can you make objections? I can’t think where you look, to +find any objections?” + +“I see none now, and I only want to be sure that we shall find none when +we arrive.” + +“Well! I do call that unreasonable! To expect to find any place on earth +altogether unobjectionable! I wonder what objection could be so great as +being turned out of one after another, just as we have got them into +order. Here comes our girl. Well, Becky, I see how you like the news! +Now, would not you like it better still if we were going to a place of +our own, where we should not be under any landlord’s whims? We should +have to work, you know, one and all. But we would get the land properly +manured, and have a cottage of our own in time; would not we? Will you +undertake the pigs, Becky?” + +“Yes, father; and there are many things I can do in the garden too. I am +old and strong, now; and I can do much more than I have ever done here.” + +“Aye; if the land was our own,” said Woodruffe, with a glance at his +wife. She said no more, but was presently upstairs putting Moss to bed. +She knew, from long experience, how matters would go. After a restless +night, Woodruffe spoke no more of buying the land without seeing it; and +he twice said, in a meditative, rather than a communicative, way, that +he believed it would take as much capital as he had to remove his +family, and get his new land into fit condition for spring crops. + + + CHAPTER THE SECOND. + +“You may look out now for the place. Look out for our new garden. We are +just there now,” said Woodruffe to the children as the whistle sounded, +and the train was approaching the station. It had been a glorious autumn +day from the beginning; and for the last hour, while the beauty of the +light on fields and trees and water had been growing more striking, the +children, tired with the novelty of all that they had seen since +morning, had been dropping asleep. They roused up suddenly enough at the +news that they were reaching their new home; and thrust their heads to +the windows, eagerly asking on which side they were to look for their +garden. It was on the south, the left-hand side; but it might have been +anywhere, for what they could see of it. Below the embankment was +something like a sheet of grey water, spreading far away. + +“It is going to be a foggy night,” observed Woodruffe. The children +looked into the air for the fog, which had always, in their experience, +arrived by that way from the sea. The sky was all a clear blue, except +where a pale green and a faint blush of pink streaked the west. A large +planet beamed clear and bright: and the air was so transparent that the +very leaves on the trees might almost be counted. Yet could nothing be +seen below for the grey mist which was rising, from moment to moment. + +Fleming met them as they alighted; but he could not stay till he had +seen to the other passengers. His wife was there. She had been a merry +hearted girl; and, now, still so young, as to look as girlish as ever, +she seemed even merrier than ever. She did not look strong, but she had +hardly thrown off what she called “a little touch of the ague;” and she +declared herself perfectly well when the wind was anywhere but in the +wrong quarter. Allan wondered how the wind could go wrong. He had never +heard of such a thing before. He had known the wind too high, when it +did mischief among his father’s fruit trees; but it had never occurred +to him that it was not free to come and go whence and whither it would, +without blame or objection. + +“Come—come home,” exclaimed Mrs. Fleming. “Never mind about your bags +and boxes! My husband will take care of them. Let me show you the way +home.” + +She let go the hands of the young brothers, and loaded them, and then +herself, with parcels, that they might not think they were going to lose +every thing, as she said; and then tripped on before to show the way. +The way was down steps, from the highest of which two or three +chimney-tops might be seen piercing the mist which hid everything else. +Down, down, down went the party, by so many steps that little Moss began +to totter under his bundle. + +“How low this place lies!” observed the mother. + +“Why, yes;” replied Mrs. Fleming. “And yet I don’t know. I believe it is +rather that the railway runs high.” + +“Yes, yes; that is it,” said Woodruffe. “What an embankment this is! If +this is to shelter my garden to the north—” + +“Yes, yes, it is. I knew you would like it,” exclaimed Mrs. Fleming. “I +said you would be delighted. I only wish you could see your ground at +once: but it seems rather foggy, and I suppose we must wait till the +morning. Here we are at home.” + +The travellers were rather surprised to see how very small a house this +“home” was. Though called a cottage, it had not the look of one. It was +of a red brick, dingy, though evidently new: and, to all appearance, it +consisted of merely a room below, and one above. On walking round it, +however, a sloping roof in two directions gave a hint of further +accommodation. + +When the whole party had entered, and Mrs. Fleming had kissed them all +round, her glance at her mother asked, as plainly as any words, “Is not +this a pleasant room?” + +“A pretty room, indeed, my dear,” was the mother’s reply, “and as nicely +furnished as one could wish.” + +She did not say anything of the rust which her quick eye perceived on +the fire-irons and the door-key, or of the damp which stained the walls +just above the skirting-board. There was nothing amiss with the ceiling, +or the higher parts of the walls,—so it might be an accident. + +“But, my dear,” asked the mother, seeing how sleepy Moss looked, “Where +are you going to put us all? If we crowd you out of all comfort, I shall +be sorry we came so soon.” + +As Mrs. Fleming led the way upstairs, she reminded her family of their +agreement not to mind a little crowding for a time. If her mother +thought there was not room for all the newly-arrived in this chamber, +they could fit out a corner for Allan in the place where she and her +husband were to sleep. + +“All of us in this room?” exclaimed Becky. + +“Yes, Becky; why not? Here, you see, is a curtain between your bed and +the large one; and your bed is large enough to let little Moss sleep +with you. And here is a morsel of a bed for Allan in the other corner; +and I have another curtain ready to shut it in.” + +“But,” said Becky, who was going on to object. Her mother stopped her by +a sign. + +“Or,” continued Mrs. Fleming, “if you like to let Allan and his bed and +curtain come down to our place, you will have plenty of room here; much +more than my neighbours have, for the most part. How it will be when the +new cottages are built, I don’t know. We think them too small for new +houses; but, meantime, there are the Brookes sleeping seven in a room no +bigger than this, and the Vines six in one much smaller.” + +“How do they manage, now?” asked the mother. “In case of illness, say: +and how do they wash and dress?” + +“Ah! that is the worst part of it. I don’t think the boys wash +themselves—what we should call washing—for weeks together: or at least +only on Saturday nights. So they slip their clothes on in two minutes; +and then their mother and sisters can get up. But there is the pump +below for Allan, and he can wash as much as he pleases.” + +It was not till the next day that Mrs Woodruffe knew—and then it was +Allan who told her—that the pump was actually in the very place where +the Flemings slept,—close by their bed. The Flemings were, in truth, +sleeping in an outhouse, where the floor was of brick, the swill-tub +stood in one corner, the coals were heaped in another, and the light +came in from a square hole high up, which had never till now been +glazed. Plenty of air rushed in under the door, and yet some more +between the tiles,—there being no plaster beneath them. As soon as Mrs. +Woodruffe had been informed of this, and had stepped in, while her +daughter’s back was turned, to make her own observations, she went out +by herself for a walk,—so long a walk, that it was several hours before +she reappeared, heated and somewhat depressed. She had roamed the +country round, in search of lodgings; and finding none,—finding no +occupier who really could possibly spare a room on any terms,—she had +returned convinced that, serious as the expense would be, she and her +family ought to settle themselves in the nearest town,—her husband going +to his business daily by the third-class train, till a dwelling could be +provided for them on the spot. + +When she returned, the children were on the watch for her; and little +Moss had strong hopes that she would not know him. He had a great cap of +rushes on his head, with a heavy bulrush for a feather; he was stuck all +over with water-flags and bulrushes, and carried a long osier wand, +wherewith to flog all those who did not admire him enough in his new +style of dress. The children were clamorous for their mother to come +down, and see the nice places where they got these new playthings: and +she would have gone, but that their father came up, and decreed it +otherwise. She was heated and tired, he said; and he would not have her +go till she was easy and comfortable enough to see things in the best +light. + +Her impression was that her husband was, more or less (and she did not +know why), disappointed; but he did not say so. He would not hear of +going off to the town, being sure that some place would turn up +soon,—some place where they might put their heads at night; and the +Flemings should be no losers by having their company by day. Their +boarding all together, if the sleeping could but be managed, would be a +help to the young couple,—a help which it was pleasant to him, as a +father, to be able to give them. He said nothing about the land that was +not in praise of it. Its quality was excellent; or would be when it had +good treatment. It would take some time and trouble to get it into +order,—so much that it would never do to live at a distance from it. +Besides, no trains that would suit him ran at the proper hours; so there +was an end of it. They must all rough it a little for a time, and expect +their reward afterwards. + +There was nothing that Woodruffe was so hard to please in as the time +when he should take his wife to see the ground. It was close at hand; +yet he hindered her going in the morning, and again after their early +dinner. He was anxious that she should not be prejudiced, or take a +dislike at first; and in the morning, the fog was so thick that +everything looked dank and dreary; and in the middle of the day, when a +warm autumn sun had dissolved the mists, there certainly was a most +disagreeable smell hanging about. It was not gone at sunset; but by that +time Mrs. Woodruffe was impatient, and she appeared—Allan showing her +the way—just when her husband was scraping his feet upon his spade, +after a hard day of digging. + +“There, now!” said he, good-humouredly, striking his spade into the +ground, “Fleming said you would be down before we were ready for you: +and here you are!—Yes, ready for you. There are some planks coming, to +keep your feet out of the wet among all this clay.” + +“And yours too, I hope,” said the wife. “I don’t mind such wet, after +rain, as you have been accustomed to; but to stand in a puddle like this +is a very different thing.” + +“Yes—so ’tis. But we’ll have the planks; and they will serve for running +the wheelbarrow too. It is too much for Allan, or any boy, to run the +barrow in such a soil as this. We’ll have the planks first; and then +we’ll drain, and drain, and get rare spring crops.” + +“What have they given you this artificial pond for,” asked the wife, “if +you must drain so much?” + +“That is no pond. All the way along here, on both sides the railway, +there is the mischief of these pits. They dig out the clay for bricks, +and then leave the places—pits like this, some of them six feet deep. +The railways have done a deal of good for the poor man, and will do a +great deal more yet; but, at present this one has left those pits.” + +“I hope Moss will not fall into one. They are very dangerous,” declared +the mother, looking about for the child. + +“He is safe enough there, among the osiers,” said the father. “He has +lost his heart outright to the osiers. However, I mean to drain and fill +up this pit, when I find a good outfall: and then we will have all high +and dry, and safe for the children. I don’t care so much for the pit as +for the ditches there. Don’t you notice the bad smell?” + +“Yes, indeed, that struck me the first night.” + +“I have been inquiring to-day, and I find there is one acre in twenty +hereabouts occupied with foul ditches like that. And then the overflow +from them and the pits, spoils many an acre more. There is a stretch of +water-flags and bulrushes, and nasty coarse grass and rushes, nothing +but a swamp, where the ground is naturally as good as this; and, look +here! Fleming was rather out, I tell him, when he wrote that I might +graze a pony on the pasture below, whenever I have a market-cart. I ask +him if he expects me to water it here.” + +So saying, Woodruffe led the way to one of the ditches which, instead of +fences, bounded his land; and, moving the mass of weeds with a stick, +showed the water beneath, covered with a whitish bubbling scum, the +smell of which was insufferable. + +“There is plenty of manure there,” said Woodruffe: “that is the only +thing that can be said for it. We’ll make manure of it, and sweep out +the ditch, and deepen it, and narrow it, and not use up so many feet of +good ground for a ditch that does nothing but poison us. A fence is +better than a ditch any day. I’ll have a fence, and still save ten feet +of ground, the whole way down.” + +“There is a great deal to do here,” observed the wife. + +“And good reward when it is done,” Woodruffe replied. “If I can fall in +with a stout labourer, he and Allan and I can get our spring crops +prepared for; and I expect they will prove the goodness of the soil. +There is Fleming. Supper is ready, I suppose.” + +The children were called, but both were so wet and dirty that it took +twice as long as usual to make them fit to sit at table: and apologies +were made for keeping supper waiting. The grave half-hour before Moss’s +bedtime was occupied with the most solemn piece of instruction he had +ever had in his life. His father carried him up to the railway, and made +him understand the danger of playing there. He was never to play there. +His father would go up with him once a day, and let him see a train +pass: and this was the only time he was ever to mount the steps, except +by express leave. Moss was put to bed in silence, with his father’s +deep, grave voice sounding in his ears. + +“He will not forget it,” declared his father. “He will give us no +trouble about the railway. The next thing is the pit. Allan, I expect +you to see that he does not fall into the pit. In time, we shall teach +him to take care of himself; but you must remember, meanwhile, that the +pit is six feet deep—deeper than I am high: and that the edge is the +same clay that you slipped on so often this morning.” + +“Yes, father,” said Allan, looking as grave as if power of life and +death were in his hands. + + + CHAPTER THE THIRD. + +One fine morning in the next spring, there was more stir and +cheerfulness about the Woodruffes’ dwelling than there had been of late. +The winter had been somewhat dreary; and now the spring was anxious; for +Woodruffe’s business was not, as yet, doing very well. His hope, when he +bought his pony and cart, was to dispatch by railway to the town the +best of his produce, and sell the commoner part in the country +neighbourhood, sending his cart round within the reach of a few miles. +As it turned out, he had nothing yet to send to the town, and his agent +there was vexed and displeased. No radishes, onions, early salads, or +rhubarb were ready: and it would be sometime yet before they were. + +“I am sure I have done everything I could,” said Woodruffe to Fleming, +as they both lent a hand to put the pony into the cart. “Nobody can say +that I have not made drains enough, or that they are not deep enough; +yet the frost has taken such a hold that one would think we were living +in the north of Scotland, instead of in Staffordshire.” + +“It has not been a severe season either,” observed Fleming. + +“There’s the vexation,” replied Woodruffe. “If it had been a season +which set us at defiance, and made all sufferers alike, one must just +submit to a loss, and go on again, like one’s neighbours. But, you see, +I am cut out, as my agent says, from the market. Everybody else has +spring vegetables there, as usual. It is no use telling him that I never +failed before. But I know what it is. It is yonder great ditch that does +the mischief.” + +“Why, we have nothing to do with that.” + +“That is the very reason. If it was mine or yours, do you think I should +not have taken it in hand long ago? All my draining goes for little +while that shallow ditch keeps my ground a continual sop. It is all +uneven along the bottom;—not the same depth for three feet together +anywhere, and not deep enough by two feet in any part. So there it is, +choked up and putrid; and, after an hour or two of rain, my garden gets +such a soaking, that the next frost is destruction.” + +“I will speak about it again,” said Fleming. “We must have it set right +before next winter.” + +“I think we have seen enough of the uselessness of speaking,” replied +Woodruffe, gloomily. “If we tease the gentry any more, they may punish +you for it. I would show them my mind by being off,—throwing up my +bargain at all costs, if I had not put so much into the ground that I +have nothing left to move away with.” + +“Don’t be afraid for me,” said Fleming, cheerfully, “It was chiefly my +doing that you came here, and I must try my utmost to obtain fair +conditions for you. We must remember that the benefit of your outlay has +all to come.” + +“Yes; I can’t say we have got much of it yet.” + +“By next winter,” continued Fleming, “your privet hedges and screens +will have grown up into some use against the frost; and your own +drainage——. Come, come, Allan, my boy! be off! It is getting late.” + +Allan seemed to be idling, re-arranging his bunches of small radishes, +and little bundles of rhubarb, in their clean baskets, and improving the +stick with which he was to drive: but he pleaded that he was waiting for +Moss, and for the parcel which his mother was getting ready for Becky. + +“Ah! my poor little girl!” said Woodruffe. “Give my love to her, and +tell her it will be a happy day when we can send for her to come home +again. Be sure you observe particularly, to tell us, how she looks; and, +mind, if she fancies anything in the cart,—any radishes, or whatever +else, because it comes out of our garden, be sure you give it her. I +wish I was going myself with the cart, for the sake of seeing Becky; but +I must go to work. Here have I been all the while, waiting to see you +off. Ah! here they come! you may always have notice now of who is coming +by that child’s crying.” + +“O, father! not always!” exclaimed Allan. + +“Far too often, I’m sure. I never knew a child grow so fractious. I am +saying, my dear,” to his wife, who now appeared with her parcel, and +Moss in his best hat, “that boy is the most fractious child we ever had: +and he is getting too old for that to begin now. How can you spoil him +so?” + +“I am not aware,” said Mrs. Woodruffe, her eyes filling with tears, +“that I treat him differently from the rest: but the child is not well. +His chilblains tease him terribly; and I wish there may be nothing +worse.” + +“Warm weather will soon cure the chilblains, and then I hope we shall +see an end of the fretting.—Now, leave off crying this minute, Moss, or +you don’t go. You don’t see me cry with my rheumatism, and that is worse +than chilblains, I can tell you.” + +Moss tried to stifle his sobs, while his mother put more straw into the +cart for him, and cautioned Allan to be careful of him, for it really +seemed as if the child was tender all over. Allan seemed to succeed best +as comforter. He gave Moss the stick to wield, and showed him how to +make believe to whip the pony, so that before they turned the corner, +Moss was wholly engrossed with what he called driving. + +“Yes, yes,” said Woodruffe, as he turned away, to go to his garden, +“Allan is the one to manage him. He can take as good care of him as any +woman, without spoiling him.” + +Mrs. Woodruffe submitted to this in silence; but with the feeling that +she did not deserve it. + +Becky had had no notice of this visit from her brothers: but no such +visit could take her by surprise; for she was thinking of her family all +day long, every day, and fancying she should see them, whichever way she +turned. It was not her natural destination to be a servant in a +farm-house: she had never expected it,—never been prepared for it. She +was as willing to work as any girl could be; and her help in the +gardening was beyond what most women are capable of: but it was a bitter +thing to her to go among strangers, and toil for them, when she knew +that she was wanted at home by father and mother, and brothers, and just +at present, by her sister too; for Mrs. Fleming’s confinement was to +happen this spring. The reason why Becky was not at home while so much +wanted there was, that there really was no accommodation for her. The +plan of sleeping all huddled together as they were at first would not +do. The girl herself could not endure it; and her parents felt that she +must be got out at any sacrifice. They had inquired diligently till they +found a place for her in a farm-house where the good wife promised +protection, and care, and kindness; and fulfilled her promise to the +best of her power. + +“I hope they do well by you here, Becky,” asked Allan, when the surprise +caused by his driving up with a dash had subsided, and everybody had +retired, to leave Becky with her brothers for the few minutes they could +stay. “I hope they are kind to you here.” + +“O, yes,—very kind. And I am sure you ought to say so to father and +mother.” + +Becky had jumped into the cart, and had her arms round Moss, and her +head on his shoulder. Raising her head, and with her eyes filling as she +spoke, she inquired anxiously how the new cottages went on, and when +father and mother were to have a home of their own again. She owned, but +did not wish her father and mother to hear of it, that she did not like +being among such rough people as the farm servants. She did not like +some of the behaviour that she saw; and, still less, such talk as she +was obliged to overhear. When _would_ a cottage be ready for them? + +“Why, the new cottages would soon be getting on now,” Allan said: but he +didn’t know; nobody fancied the look of them. He saw them just after the +foundations were laid; and the enclosed parts were like a clay-puddle. +He did not see how they were ever to be improved; for the curse of wet +seemed to be on them, as upon everything about the Station. Fleming’s +cottage was the best he had seen, after all, if only it was twice as +large. If anything could be done to make the new cottages what cottages +should be, it would be done: for every body agreed that the railway +gentlemen desired to do the best for their people, and to set an example +in that respect: but it was beyond anybody’s power to make wet clay as +healthy as warm gravel. Unless they could go to work first to dry the +soil, it seemed a hopeless sort of affair. + +“But, I say, Becky,” pursued Allan, “you know about my garden—that +father gave me a garden of my own.” + +Becky’s head was turned quite away; and she did not look round, when she +replied, + +“Yes; I remember. How does your garden get on?” + +There was something in her voice which made her brother lean over and +look into her face; and, as he expected, tears were running down her +cheeks. + +“There now!” said he, whipping the back of the cart with his stick; +“something must be done, if you can’t get on here.” + +“O! I can get on. Be sure you don’t tell mother that I can’t get on, or +anything about it.” + +“You look healthy, to be sure.” + +“To be sure I am. Don’t say any more about it. Tell me about your +garden.” + +“Well: I am trying what I can make of it, after I have done working with +father. But it takes a long time to bring it round.” + +“What! is the wet there, too?” + +“Lord, yes! The wet was beyond everything at first. I could not leave +the spade in the ground ten minutes, if father called me, but the water +was standing in the hole when I went back again. It is not so bad now, +since I made a drain to join upon father’s principal one; and father +gave me some sand, and plenty of manure: but it seems to us that manure +does little good. It won’t sink in when the ground is so wet.” + +“Well, there will be the summer next, and that will dry up your garden.” + +“Yes. People say the smells are dreadful in hot weather, though. But we +seem to get used to that. I thought it sickly work, just after we came, +going down to get osiers, and digging near the big ditch that is our +plague now: but somehow, it does not strike me now as it did then, +though Fleming says it is getting worse every warm day. But come—I must +be off. What will you help yourself to? And don’t forget your parcel.” + +Becky’s great anxiety was to know when her brothers would come again. O! +very often, she was assured—oftener and oftener as the vegetables came +forward: whenever there were either too many or too few to send to the +town by rail. + +After Becky had jumped down, the farmer and one of the men were seen to +be contemplating the pony. + +“What have you been giving your pony lately?” asked the farmer of Allan. +“I ask as a friend, having some experience of this part of the country. +Have you been letting him graze?” + +“Yes, in the bit of meadow that we have leave for. There is a good deal +of grass there, now. He has been grazing there these three weeks.” + +“On the meadow where the osier beds are? Ay! I knew it, by the look of +him. Tell your father that if he does not take care, his pony will have +the staggers in no time. An acquaintance of mine grazed some cattle +there once; and in a week or two, they were all feverish, so that the +butcher refused them on any terms; and I have seen more than one horse +in the staggers, after grazing in marshes of that sort.” + +“There is fine thick grass there, and plenty of it,” said Allan, who did +not like that anybody but themselves should criticise their new place +and plans. + +“Ay, ay; I know,” replied the farmer. “But if you try to make hay of +that grass, you’ll be surprised to find how long it takes to make, and +how like wool it comes out at last. It is a coarse grass, with no +strength in it; and it must be a stronger beast than this that will bear +feeding on it. Just do you tell your father what I say, that’s all; and +then he can do as he pleases: but I would take a different way with that +pony, without loss of time, if it was mine.” + +Allan did not much like taking this sort of message to his father, who +was not altogether so easy to please as he used to be. If anything vexed +him ever so little, he always began to complain of his rheumatism—and he +now complained of his rheumatism many times in a day. It was managed, +however, by tacking a little piece of amusement and pride upon it. Moss +was taught, all the way as they went home, after selling their +vegetables, how much everything sold for; and he was to deliver the +money to his father, and go through his lesson as gravely as any big +man. It succeeded very well. Everybody laughed. Woodruffe called the +child his little man-of-business; gave him a penny out of the money he +brought; and when he found that the child did not like jumping as he +used to do, carried him up to the railway to listen for the whistle, and +see the afternoon train come up, and stop a minute, and go on again. + + + + + TOPOGRAPHY AND TEMPERANCE. + + FROM MR. CHRISTOPHER SHRIMBLE. + + + “MR. CONDUCTOR, + +“Sir, I take up my pen to tell you what’s going to happen if the cause +of temperance is to be allowed to have unlicensed power to unlicense all +the public-houses. We have heard a good deal about the advantages of +Temperance (and I don’t deny them), but Mr. Ledru Rollin has taught me +to look closer than ever to the dark side of things, and tee-totalism +has its dark side like everything else; it is not all clear water, I can +tell you. I look forward to the time when strong liquors will be +abolished, and pot-houses taken from the corners of the streets or +shifted from the sides of the road, and I say, ‘how _shall_ I find my +way about?’ + +“For the fact is; Sir, public-houses are the great land-marks of the +country. Whether you are benighted in a Northumberland moor; lost in a +Devonshire lane (the one thing in nature which it is well known has no +end); whether you are cast away in a river; left without a clue upon +Salisbury Plain; or reduced to a state of topographical despair in a +Warwickshire wood; the first person you meet—be it he or she, gentle or +simple, old or young, a genius or an idiot—will assuredly convince you +that the only rural means of directing you are the names and signs of +places of public entertainment. ‘Go on straight till you come to the +Green Lion, then turn to the left close to the Goat and Compasses, and +after you have passed the Plough, bear off to the right; and, opposite +the Jolly Gardeners, you will see a lane: go down that lane till you +have to cross a brook by the side of the Bottle and Bagpipes, and when +you have got to the Three Whistles and Cockchafer further down, get over +a stile next to the Tinker and Turkey-Cock, take the first to the +left—and that’s it.’ Such were the directions by which I found my old +friend, Groggles, last Monday. Without the signs I have mentioned, I +never should have found Groggles to this day. + +“Now, Sir, I trust the advocates of temperance will pause before they +wash away the land-marks of England (Tooting included), in order to +substitute water-marks. How are we to find our way about without signs, +I wonder? for I suppose these will not be allowed to stand when the +houses behind them are taken away. Do the great Father Mathews of this +age intend—like the monks of old—to christen the wells, and to give +names to the pumps, and springs, and fountains, and conduits? Indeed I +hope they do; for these I venture to say will be the only taps they +intend leaving to a future generation. + +“Unless, Sir, they wish the topography of our native land to be utterly +confused, and desire to make voluntary locomotion impossible (I call +railways compulsory travelling, for you must go where they choose to +take you), I do intreat of them to leave us their signs, whatever they +do with the inns. Why not move the former to stand sponsors to their +new-fangled watering places? Take the ‘Puncheon of Rum’ from what used +to be the posting-house (before steam blew post-horses off the road) and +stick it on the parish pump. Let wayside wells be ornamented with +effigies of ‘Topers Heads’; transfer the ‘Barrel of Beer’ from the +village inn to the village fountain, and the ‘Jolly Full Bottle’ from +the alehouse to the conduit. Then, when a man comes to the picture of +three drunken soldiers, and the inscription, ‘The Rendezvous,’ he will +know it means a reservoir, or regular meeting of the waters. The +‘Punch-Bowl,’ in gold letters, will indicate a water-trough; the ‘Black +Jack’ would give a significant license for water to be drunk on the +premises; and the ‘Sir John Barleycorn’ would indicate that a good +supply of the ale of our first parent is not far off. + +“I do hope my suggestion will be complied with. The tavern signs of +England are a great topographical institution. If they will not take +them down, the Temperance Movement may do its worst for me. I, and a +good many others who live out of town and don’t carry lanterns at night, +will still be able to find our way about, and the agricultural +population will be able to show us when we have lost it. In that case, +the Green Dragons, Marquises of Granby, Roses and Crowns, Bears and +Buttermilks, Bulls in the Pounds, Stars and Stumps, with innumerable +other signs dear to the eyes and ready to the tongues of unconverted +tipplers for the behoof of way-beguiled strangers, would not be utterly +lost to the land. Without them, I venture to assert, in conclusion, in +the words of the late Mr. Pope, England (Tooting included) will be ‘a +mighty maze without a plan.’ + + “I am, &c., &c. + “CHRISTOPHER SHRIMBLE. + “Paradise Row, Tooting.” + + + + + THE LATE AMERICAN PRESIDENT. + + +Towards the close of the last century there was a movement of settlers +to the frontiers of Kentucky. The new comers to the then unsettled +district were from various parts of the American continent, and each of +the pioneers who thus cast his lot upon the extreme verge of +civilisation made his account for holding his homestead by aid of his +rifle, against the attacks of the denizens of the neighbouring forests. +Sometimes the enemy was only in shape of a wolf or a bear—oftentimes in +that of an Indian. In either case the farmer had to maintain his ground +by the strong hand, in those days the only law that held sway in the +backwoods. In such a state of affairs it is clear that none but bold +spirits would venture to found a home on the frontier; yet such were not +wanting; and amongst them was a farmer, who at an earlier period of his +life had left the plough to take up arms in defence of American +independence. In that rough and ready service he had gained the often +quickly-acquired rank of Colonel; but the war ceasing, he, like others +among his patriotic countrymen, quietly returned to his more peaceful +occupation as a farmer; choosing a location where land was plenty and +cheap to those who had the courage to hold it where Indians and other +dangerous neighbours were abundant. The sons of such a man, nurtured in +such a spot, might well be expected to inherit the enterprise, courage, +and hardihood which distinguished their parent. Handling a rifle as soon +as they were strong enough to lift one; accustomed to hunting excursions +and “camping out;” working now at the plough, now in building up a barn, +or in filling it when complete; driving the waggon and its load to a +distant market, and bringing back at any hour, and in all seasons, the +stores that varied their farm-grown contributions to the larder; and +when winter-time brought comparative leisure, turning to books for +almost the only education procurable in the rough and primitive region +they inhabited;—boys, so reared, could scarcely be other than bold, +energetic, and fruitful in resources, and equal in after life to the +shifting exigencies of an active military career. From such a parent, +and such a childhood and youth, and with such an early training, sprang +President and General Zachary Taylor, whose recent death our +Transatlantic brethren are even now deploring; and the story of whose +life their journals will help us to tell. + +Zachary Taylor before he was twenty-one volunteered to leave home on a +military expedition needed by the exigencies of the time. This, his +first essay in war, proved very harmless; for no enemy was found, and he +soon returned to his father’s farm, with a taste, however, for the new +life he had made this short trial of. The taste thus acquired induced +him to accept with great alacrity an opportunity that subsequently +offered of joining the regular army of the United States, which he did +in 1803, with the rank of lieutenant. Shortly afterwards an occasion +arose for distinguishing himself, and he did not let it pass unimproved. +He defended a post called Fort Harrison, against great odds; and by the +check thus given to a large hostile party of Indians, saved a frontier +from devastation. This gallant commencement was followed by a succession +of equally noticeable exploits. He courted every chance of securing +active service, and in succession won new reputation in contests with +the Indians, with the English, and lastly with the Mexicans. Since it +was with this last opponent that his chief battles were fought, and his +really important victories won; and as those victories have gained an +European reputation from the fact that they led to the acquisition of +the real land of gold—El Dorado—California itself; we may glance over +the events that induced and characterised the strife, and led to so +memorable a result. + +Mexico and the United States had long had causes of quarrel; not the +least of which was that the Mexicans got into debt to the Yankees, and +would not pay what they admitted to be due. With several such unsettled +and unsatisfactory accounts on hand, the Texas difficulty arose, and a +large body of the Texians declaring for annexation with the United +States, the few scruples that stood in the way of such an increase of +dominion were quickly overlooked, and the large and fertile province was +incorporated in the Union. Half such a cause of quarrel was enough to +secure a declaration of war from a country like Mexico—_a country that +has gone through eighteen revolutions in twenty-five years_—and +accordingly war began. The Mexicans took steps for re-assuming the lost +Texas, when, on the 4th of February, 1846, General Taylor received +orders to march, with a force of three thousand men under his command, +to the Rio Grande, the western limit of the newly-attached State. The +President, for the time being, of Mexico claimed Texas as a revolted +province, and hastened to submit the question to the ordeal of battle. +The Mexicans shed the first blood. They took some prisoners—some +Americans—and shot them in cold blood; and soon afterwards they captured +more Americans, including some women, whose bodies were discovered +subsequently with their throats cut. This brutality added fuel to the +flame before existing, and the struggle began that ended in the capture +of Mexico and the cession of California. + +The early days of the war were characterised by many acts of daring +bravery. Amongst others, we find mention of the feat performed by a +Captain Walker. The Americans were in total ignorance of the movements +of the enemy, when they heard cannonading in the direction of a fort +with which they had been unable to keep open communications. Taylor +dispatched a squadron of cavalry, who returned without definite +information, and the General was in suspense as to the condition of his +friends in the fort, when Captain Walker arrived in the camp bearing +dispatches from the leader of the beleaguered party in Fort Brown. He +had left the small stronghold under the cover of night, and with no +other guide than the wind on his cheek had tracked his way through the +enemy’s camp, and through the wild, roadless country that lay between it +and the army of General Taylor. He brought the news that the Mexicans +had attacked Fort Brown, opening upon it a heavy cannonade. The besieged +had, however, returned the fire with spirit, and had succeeded in +dismounting some of the Mexican guns. General Taylor at once set off to +raise the siege, taking with him two thousand three hundred men. With +this force he encountered the enemy at Palo Alta, and the battle so +named was fought. For five hours was the strife continued, when the +attacking party carried the day. The Mexicans fell back. + +On the next morning another engagement took place with the same result. +The Mexicans lost a thousand men; some cannon; and had one of their +generals taken prisoner;—and Fort Brown was relieved. + +The war had thus commenced. The Mexicans loudly denounced what they +called the dismemberment of their empire; the Americans heard with +evident joy that their small army had won two battles of an enemy who +had provoked the encounter. + +President Polk (the history of whose administration, by L. B. Chase, +affords us some of these particulars) was, after much debate, authorised +to call into the field volunteers, “to serve for a year or during the +war.” Double the number asked-for soon offered themselves, and General +Taylor found himself at the head of a force comparatively undisciplined +but eager to advance, and equal to almost any amount of endurance in the +prosecution of the enterprise on hand. The temper of the new levies was +soon tried. The fight at Monterey was a repetition, on a larger scale, +of the scenes and successes near Fort Brown. The Americans attacked and +put to flight an enemy four times as numerous as the attacking force. +The Mexicans seemed to think their invaders invincible; victory for the +American flag was the result of each encounter, and before long General +Taylor had a greater extent of country in his possession than the whole +force under his command could well grasp with security. At this juncture +General Scott, who for some time before this war began, had been +Commander-in-Chief of the American Army, finding that great renown was +being won by his junior officer, wrote from New York to General Taylor +to state his intention of taking command in Mexico, and leading forward +an additional force in advance of the positions conquered and held by +Taylor. General Scott decided upon attacking Vera Cruz, and Taylor, +being ordered to act on the defensive, complained bitterly when he found +that Scott was to withdraw from his command all the regular troops he +had, with the exception of one thousand men, leaving him to defend his +position chiefly with volunteers, and these in deficient force. The +military law of obedience to orders, however, left no choice, and though +stating his belief in the weakness of his army he declined to fall back, +urging the bad effect such a step must have on the minds of his new +levies. He enjoyed the prestige of successive victories, and by +supporting that alone could he hope to maintain his small force against +an enemy so largely outnumbering him. + +About twelve thousand Americans had marched under Scott against Vera +Cruz; about five thousand mustered under the flag of Taylor, when the +news came that Santa Anna, with an army of twenty thousand strong, was +marching upon the scattered and weakened forces of the smallest of the +two American armies. Scott was too far on his way towards the sea coast +to march to the rescue of Taylor, and the latter was left to do his best +alone. On the morning of the 23rd of February, 1847, the unequal battle +began. General Taylor had secured for his five thousand men a strong +position at Buena Vista, in which the artillery of his antagonist could +not readily be brought into play. When Santa Anna approached with twenty +thousand men, he sent a message to Taylor to surrender at discretion; a +request which the American chieftain abruptly declined, and the fight +began. The contest was long and doubtful. The disparity of numbers was +soon felt, and the feeling that all depended on their valour nerved the +attacked party to greater desperation in their defence. Less than five +hundred of Taylor’s men were regular troops; more than four thousand of +them, but a few months before, were at work in the fields, and on +wharfs, and in warehouses in the States. But volunteers though they +were, no veterans could have done more. About seven hundred of them +fell, killed and wounded, but night, which stayed the battle, saw the +Mexicans in retreat before a force over which, in the morning, they +expected a rapid and easy victory. The gallantry of the Anglo-Saxons +prevailed over the numbers of their semi-Spanish antagonists, and Santa +Anna retreated with an army weakened by the loss of nearly two thousand +killed and wounded. “Along the road leading from Buena Vista to Agua +Nueva (says Mr. Chase), a scene of horror was presented on the night of +the 23rd of February. The means of transporting the wounded being +extremely limited, they were left to struggle with suffering and with +death, and the sighing of the wind and the cry of the wolf were their +only requiem. Abandoned to their fate, without food, parched with +thirst, without medical aid, and with no shelter to protect them from +the piercing night air, they awaited the moment when death should +release them from their suffering. The main body of the army reached +Agua Nueva at midnight, and, dying with thirst, many of the soldiers +plunged into a stagnant sheet of water which, in many cases, produced +instant death. Suffering from the want of food and water, dispirited and +disheartened by the result of the battle, they presented a striking +contrast to that splendid array which, buoyant with hope and confident +of victory, had attacked the American army.” + +Many anecdotes of this period of Taylor’s career are told with pride by +his countrymen. Here are some of them which amusingly illustrate the +character of the man. + +First we have one descriptive of his personal appearance. + + “Winding down a hill near Mont Morales, the column is halted to let a + troop of horse pass. Do you see at their head a plain looking + gentleman, mounted upon a brown horse, having upon his head a Mexican + sombrero, dressed in a brown olive-coloured loose frock coat, grey + pantaloons, wool socks, and shoes? From under the frock appears the + scabbard of a sword; he has the eye of a hawk, and every lineament of + his countenance is expressive of honesty, and a calm determined mind. + The plain looking gentleman is General Zachary Taylor, who, with his + military family, and a squadron of dragoons as an escort, is on his + way to the front.” + +A few more anecdotes will serve to show the peculiarities of the now +deceased general. + + “After the capitulation of Monterey, the officers of the army used + their exertions to get General Taylor to move from his camp at St. + Domingo to the Plaza, and there establish his head quarters. Several + public buildings were examined and decided upon as suitable. After + considerable persuasion General Taylor consented to move, at the same + time giving the following instructions:—‘Choose a pleasant location—a + house that is surrounded by a garden filled with large trees; put up a + tent under the trees for my residence, and you [the staff and other + officers] may have the house in front.’ It is needless to add, that no + more was said about the head quarters being removed into the city of + Monterey. + + “In the early part of a severe action, when the enemy had succeeded in + turning the left wing of his little army, and secured a seeming + advantageous position in rear of their line, at the base of the + mountain; when a portion of the troops, overpowered by the superiority + of numbers, were forced to retire in “hot haste;” when, indeed, the + fortunes of the day seemed extremely problematical, an officer of high + rank rode up to General Taylor, and announced the temporary success of + the enemy, and expressed his fears for the success of the army. + Taylor’s reply was characteristic of the man. ‘Sir,’ said he, ‘so long + as we have thirty muskets, we can never be conquered! If those troops + who have abandoned their position can be rallied and brought into + action again, I will take three thousand of the enemy prisoners. Had I + the disposition of the enemy’s forces, I would myself place them just + where they are.’ The officer resumed his duties with a light heart, + considering that the battle, in spite of appearance, was already won.” + +The volunteers who flocked to his standard soon learned to regard the +old general as a friend as well as a commander. + + “As proof of his humanity, it is recorded that Taylor, before leaving + the battle-ground of Buena Vista, ordered upwards of forty mule loads + of provisions to be sent from his camp to Incarnacion, for the use of + the wounded Mexicans who were in the hospital there, and starving from + hunger. + + “Taylor told General Ricardo that General Ampudia had written to him, + stating that the war should be conducted in accordance with the usages + of civilised nations, but that after the last battle they had + barbarously stripped and mutilated our dead. To this charge General + Ricardo replied, that ‘this was done by the rancheros, who could not + be controlled.’ ‘I am coming over, and will control them for you,’ + said Taylor. + + “The general had assembled his council of officers the night previous + to the conflict of Buena Vista, for the purpose of hearing their + suggestions in relation to the approaching battle. A good deal of + uneasiness was exhibited—objections were raised—the disadvantages of + the immense ‘odds’ were presented—propositions to retire and wait for + reinforcements were urged—some were for giving the enemy battle—and + one proposed that the American army should ‘fall back’—when the old + hero’s opinion was asked. ‘Are you all done, gentlemen?’ Every one had + finished. ‘Then, gentlemen, I will adjourn this meeting,’ coolly added + Taylor, ‘_till after the fight to-morrow_.’ ‘Good!’ was the unanimous + response. The battle was fought and—won.” + +But we must return to our narrative. Whilst Taylor was holding his +position in the interior, General Scott was approaching the sea coast, +and a naval force being there ready to co-operate with him, the news +that reached Santa Anna not long after he had been beaten by Taylor was, +that the Americans had bombarded and captured Vera Cruz. The Mexicans +were deeply dispirited; intestine quarrels and partisan disputes, added +to the presence of a foreign enemy, rendered them more than ordinarily +indisposed to make any really great and national exertions for their +defence. Santa Anna had by his personal crimes gained many enemies, and +there were not wanting Mexicans who secretly hailed the advent of the +Americans rather as an advantage than a calamity. Hence, when Scott +advanced from his newly acquired stronghold upon the city of Mexico +itself, Santa Anna could at first bring only six thousand men to oppose +his march, and these were met and beaten at Jalapa by the Americans. +Three desperately contested battles soon followed, in which the +invaders, though suffering most severely, came off victorious. In one of +these, three thousand one hundred Americans met and defeated fourteen +thousand Mexicans, leaving, however, seven hundred of their comrades +dead upon the field. The final attack was upon the city itself, and by +the 14th of September, Santa Anna had fled; the city of the Montezumas +was in the hands of Brother Jonathan, and the stars and stripes waved on +the national palace of Mexico. + +General Taylor never entirely forgave the Commander-in-Chief for taking +from him the best part of his force, and he contended that had Scott +threatened Vera Cruz only, and so divided the attention of Santa Anna, +leaving the army at Monterey in its full force to march thence upon the +capital, Mexico would have been taken at a less cost of time and blood +than was ultimately expended on the conquest of the place. So also +thought a large section of the American people, and though another +commander actually took possession of the capital, Taylor was popularly +regarded as the real hero of the Mexican war. This feeling was +strengthened when the series of quarrels began between Scott and his +companions in arms, and between that general and the American Minister, +Mr. Trist, deputed to arrange a treaty between the two countries; and +when Scott left the army in charge of General Butler to return in +disgust to the United States, there was no officer in all Mexico, whose +reputation could stand in competition with that of “Old Rough and +Ready,” as Taylor was now called. He was looked upon as the one heroic +leader of the successful war. + +Bayard Taylor, after his stay in the city of Mexico, says he does not +believe that Mexican enmity has been increased by the war, but rather +the contrary. During all his stay in the country he did not hear a +bitter word against the Americans. The officers of the United States’ +army seem to have made friends everywhere, and the war, by throwing the +natives into direct contact with foreigners, greatly abated their former +prejudices against all not of Spanish blood. The departure of the +American troops is declared to have been a cause of general lamentation +amongst the tradesmen of Mexico and Vera Cruz. Nothing was more common +to me (continues the traveller) than to hear Generals Scott and Taylor +mentioned by the Mexicans in terms of entire respect and admiration. “If +you see General Taylor,” said a gentleman to his namesake Bayard, “tell +him that the Mexicans all honour him. He has never given up their houses +to plunder; he has helped their wounded and suffering; he is as humane +as he is brave, and they can never feel enmity towards him.” + +Not without contest and difficulties, but still by a considerable +majority, General Taylor was in November, 1848, rewarded for his many +years’ services by being installed in the highest position his +countrymen had in their gift. They made him President of the United +States, and his term of office in that capacity commenced in March, +1849, under the favourable impression created by the following +straightforward declaration:— + + “I intend that all new appointments shall be of men honest and + capable. I do not intend to remove any man from office because he + voted against me, for that is a freeman’s privilege; but such + desecration of office and official patronage as some of them have been + guilty of to secure the election of the master whom they served as + slaves is degrading to the character of American freemen, and will be + a good cause for removal of friend or foe. The office of the + government should be filled with men of all parties; and as I expect + to find many of those now holding to be honest, good men, and as the + new appointments will, of course, be whigs, that will bring about this + result. Although I do not intend to allow an indiscriminate removal, + yet it grieves me to think that it will be necessary to require a + great many to give place to better men. As to my cabinet, I intend + that all interests and all sections of the country shall be + represented, but not, as some of the newspapers will have it, all + parties. I am a whig, as I have always been free to acknowledge, but I + do not believe that these who voted for me wish me to be a mere + partisan President, and I shall, therefore, try to be a President of + the American people. As to the new territory, it is now free, and + slavery cannot exist there without a law of Congress authorising it, + and that I do not believe they will ever pass. I was opposed to the + acquisition of this territory, as I also was to the acquisition of + Texas. I was opposed to the war, and, although by occupation a + warrior, I am a peace man.” + +His subsequent conduct tended to realise the hopes created by this +opening avowal. But a life of hardship and an age verging on sixty +years, prepared him, but indifferently, to meet the renewed exertions +required by his new position. Resigning the panoply of the general to +assume the garb of the President, he gained a respite from the toils of +war to accept the still more soul-wearying contests, jealousies, and +responsibilities of civil government. With soldierly determination, +however, he addressed himself to the task, and, like a true hero, fell +with harness on his back. He was born on the 9th of November, 1786—he +died on the 9th of July, 1850. His last words were:—“I am prepared. I +have endeavoured to do my duty.” May all deathbeds be consoled by the +truthful utterance of such a sentiment. + + * * * * * + + Monthly Supplement of “HOUSEHOLD WORDS,” + Conducted by CHARLES DICKENS. + + + _Price 2d., Stamped, 3d._, + + THE HOUSEHOLD NARRATIVE + OF + CURRENT EVENTS. + + _The Number, containing a history of the past month, was issued with + the Magazines._ + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES + + + ● Fixed typos; non-standard spelling and dialect retained. + ● Renumbered footnotes. + ● Enclosed italics font in _underscores_. + ● The caret (^) is used to indicate superscript, whether applied to a + single character (as in 2^d) or to an entire expression (as in + 1^{st}). + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78192 *** |