IIARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. No. CCCXCYILJUNE, 1883.VOL. LXVII. LAMBETH PALACE, OR YE ARCHBISHOPS INNE.* A RIVER of many springs in its bright beginnings among the Cotswold Hills, of many turnings as it gathers depth and speed upon its pleasant way through lush green fields, with farm- houses and sheep and browsing kine, and slopes where castles, palaces, and towers of churches rise between the curving opens of the woods; a river of many bridges too, quaint spans of plank where its bed is laid with rushes, ruddy of brick where the mills and weirs wax busy, and sombrely grand of well - massed stone where the towns have thickened to its verges: such is the river Thames, until at last, wider and swifter and muddier much, yet fair with sky hues still, and very hard worked with every sort of craft that plies for trade or floats for pleasure, it comes rushing in to London town, stay- ing its force a little as it nears the walls of beautiful old Lambeth Palace, thence swirling demurely across to the steps of the towers of Parliament, as if it cherish- ed recollections of the days when church and state, when mace and mitre, wrought their decrees in the jealous intimacy of much conflicting lust of power; then hur- rying on beneath the arches of Westmin- ster Bridge to join its crowded water life to the crowded shore life of certainly the largest, perhaps the loveliest, surely the saddest, city in the world. In describing the palace of Lambeth it is natural to speak, and even to speak first, of this fine river, still flowing so near it, which used to wash its very walls, and * It is a pleasure to publicly acknowled~e my debt to His Grace the late Archbishop of Canterbury and his family for their kind attention and courtesy; to bishops and canons of the English Church for valuable information; to the officials of the British Museum, especially to Mr. C. H. Coote and Mr. J. P. Andersen, and to Miss Frances Hays, who most kind- ly assisted me in my researches. Z. B. G. rock the archbishops barge in its old moorings at the palace stairs, which has borne so many scholars and prelates bond and free, so many kings and queens and lordly retinues, to and from its portals. And it is from the river, from the decks of the little steamers speeding by, that its irregular outlines mass in most harinoni- ous effect to the eye. The history of this stately pile, for up- ward of seven centuries the home and the official seat of the Archbishops of Canter- bury, is not only the story of the English Church in its amities and enmities with the Church of Rome; of the archiepisco- pates of more than fifty primates during Englands most contentious period of civ- il, political, and religious evolution; and in its motley structure a record of the art and architectural changes of the ages that have produced it; but it is a romance of court and cloister as strange in its tragic verities, in the crimes and virtues of its actors, the splendor and the shadow of its scenes, as the most improbable of modern tales. Its Saxon name, originally spelled Lam- hethe or Lamehithe, signified dirty sta- tion, which it must have been before the present Thames Embankment was built. One spelling, Lambhyd, or lambs har- bor, had apparently no other foundation than that of an testhetic impulse shrink- ing from the former meaning. In very early times Lambeth was a roy- al manorthe Saxon kings lived there, and it was part of the estate of the Count- ess Goda, sister of Edward the Confessor. It changed hands during the Saxon-Dan- ish wars, but later came to its own again. There is no certain account of what Godas palace was like, but discussion and deeds of conveyance show that it stood on the present site of Lambeth. As a home for the archbishops, Lam- Entered according to Act of congress, in the year 1883, by narper and Brothers, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at washington. VOL. LxvII.No. 397.i 4 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. bethin those days out of the see of Can- terburywas a kind of protest on the part of the English Church against the Church of Rome, and the initiative in this reces- sion was taken by Archbishop Baldwin, who could not get on with the monks of Canterbury, and chose, with the coun- tenance of Henry II., a site at Hacking- ton, where he could bring around him a chapter of canons apart from them. This scheme had the favor of a papal bull, but jealousy quickly got that revoked, and at Baldwins death the monks pulled down his chapel. Some years later Lambeththere be- ing reserved only a small piece of land sufficient to erect a mansion for the Bish- ops of Rochester whenever they came to Parliamentbecame by legal process of exchange the sole property of the see of Canterbury, and a successor of Archbish- op Baldwin, about 1197, began to rebuild thereon. Once more the froward cowls of Canterbury drew down on this design three successive papal anathemas, but though his work was destroyed, the arch- bishop staid on at Lambeth without his college and canons; and that, after its final transfer to the see of Canterbury, Lambeth was the fixed dwelling of the primates is plain from the consecutive record of their activities. It is believed that the consecration of Thomas ~ Becket took place here, and that as many as five hundred consecrations occurred between the archiepiscopates of Warham and Sum- ner, and though these ceremonies now more frequently occur in the Abbey, St. Pauls, and elsewhere, Lambeth Palace is not less the original centre of Anglican Church life. Among accounts of many feasts and assemblies are details of two very large conventions of church, state, university, and law dignitaries banquet- inc, most luxuriously at ye Archbishops Inne at Lambeth in 1408 and 1446; for in spite of the struggle between Rome and the English episcopate it had its cardi- nals, and because they were learned men in times when few were so, they often held state and judicial offices, and there were eleven Lord Chancellors among them during the fourteenth and fifteenth cen- turies. Of course the prestige of the great influence this gave them with both church and state still attaches to the primacy. In 1501, Catherine of Ara- gon rested here with her ladies on her first coming to England; and here, on the 28th of May, 1533, while this most wo- manly wife and queen was still living, the marriage of her faithless husband with the Lady Anne Boleyn was confirm- ed by Cranmerthat same Cranmer who gave to the clergy the oath assigning the royal succession to her heirs, yet only two years later, when seated judicially in the under - chapel (crypt) of the palace, annulled the marriage itself, having art- fully tempted the captive and already sentenced queen to avow soine just and lawful impediment to her marriage with the king, in the hope of avoiding the stake for herself and her adherents. From that dark crypt the niiserable young queen, dishonored by the king, betrayed by her highest earthly spiritual adviser, and forced to affirm in her own disgrace the disinheritance of her offspring, went forth only to the scaffold, and the third day after her beheading, her maid, Jane Seymour, took her place as the wife of Henry VIII. It is strange reading that in the very next year (1537), by virtue of the Royal Commission, various conventions of the archbishops and bishops were held at Lambeth to devise the Godly and Pious Disposition of a Christian Man, known to history as the Bishops Book. And it seems not so inscrutable as many of the so-called acts of Divine Providence that these meetings should have been dis- persed by the plague, persons dying even at the palace gate. That strange man, the eighth Henry, once came in his barge to the foot of the Water Tower, and call- ed his tool Cranmer down the stairs to tell him of certain plottings of Bishop Gardiner and other of Cranmers enemies, and put him in the way of triumphing over them. Aniong other royal visitors of the past have been Queen Mary, who often called on her favorite Cardinal Pole, and is said to have completely furnished the palace for him; and Queen Elizabeth, who fre- quently visited Archbishop Parker, whom she warmly liked in spite of his having a wife, a married prelate being the gravest incongruity in her eyes. There is a fun- ny account of her behavior when parting from them after one of these visits. She had been entertained with much devotion and luxury, and could not help feeling grateful even to Mrs. Parker. Madam I may not call you, said the maiden queen, and niistress I must not call you; LAMBETH PALACE. 5 yet, though I know not what to call you, chapel. Portions of the palace show I do thank you. great antiquity, though it is not known Another queen came to the palace, not whether any of it is of the actual Saxon as a guest, but as a fugitive. On the 9th fabric of the Countess Goda, or whether of December, 1688, James ii. s unfortunate her palace was identical with that report- wife, the beautiful Mary of Modena, in the ed to have been repaired by Archbishops disguise of an Italian washer-woman, came Langton and Hubert Walter. Certainly flying from Whitehall, through dreadful it fell into decay until the advent (1216) of wind and rain, in a little open boat, across Archbishop Boniface. the Thames to the foot of the Water Tower, This Boniface must have been a very with her six-months old child, the future choleric and doughty fellow. While on Pretender, in her arms, rolled up as a a visit to the priory of St. Bartholomew, bundle of linen. The coach in which she in Smithfield, he entered into a spontane *~xpected to go on to Gravesend was not ous and deadly wrangle with its prior there, and she hid in the angle of the tow- and canons over some simple matter, and er till it came and she could make her when the indignant canons unclerically escape. but manfully fell upon him tooth and Queen Victoria visited the palace dur- nail, he, after niuch and telling usage of ing the primacies of Archbishops How- his powerful fists and scathing tongue, ley, Sumner, and Lougley, and the late fled away to Lambeth. There he got the archbishop, Dr. Archibald Campbell Tait, kings ear against the canons, and actually received the Prince of Wales at Lambeth. excommunicated them. Pope Urban IV. In sailing down the Thames the oldest viewed the matter, however, in another portions of the palace are first to meet the light, and bade Boniface, in expiation of eyethe tower of the parish church, close his outrageous conduct, restore and in- to those of the fine Gate-house, the roof crease the Lambeth Palace. and west facade of the Great Hall (Jux- Some authorities think Boiilfaces pre- ons), Lollards Tower, the lesser tower, decessor did the actual work upon bor- and the graceful lancet windows of the rowed sums, while Boniface boasted that GATEWAY OF LAMBETH PALACE IN 1810. 6 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. in paying off their debts the new erec- tions were practically his. By 1321 (the time of Archbishop Reyn- olds) the enlargements and improve- ments of his successors had made the pal- ace an imposing structure. To be order- ly in our tour of it we should begin with the parish church, so near as to be almost integral with it, and of which the Dooms- day-book and the Textus Roffertse both have record. It was extensively renova- ted so late as 1769, but these alterations, especially in the matters of architectural and ecclesiastical art details, were eupho- niously condemned as injudicious treat- inent, and all but the tower was pulled down and rebuilt in 1851. The restoration was so capably pushed it was completed in little more than a year. and the church re-opened in 1852 by ~he Bishop of Winchester, and the volun- tary vote of the parishioners, together with other collections, speedily cleared away the 2000 still due on the work. It has long galleries, closely paved and most- ly wainscoted, and the western gallery holds a flue organ put there in the reign of Queen Anne. At the bottom of the middle compartment of the southeast win- dow on a pane of glass is painted the por- trait of a peddler and his dog. Tradition explains this quaint design to the effect that about the year 1608 a peddler gave a plot of ground called Peddlers Acre to Lambeth parish on condition that he and his dog should figure forever in a paint- ed window of the church. Inscriptions on the pavement are nearly worn away, though one fine bass-relief design lies well preserved under a door mat. Queer tab- lets are set in the walls with a mummyish deaths-head-and-cross-bones effect; but it is a pleasant place to muse in quite alone on those rare English afternoons when the sunlight steals down through the tiny stained window in the belfry. The peal of eight bells in the tower is certainly a step in advance of the wooden rattles with which previous to 680 the peo- ple were raspingly summoned to public worship. The English are vastly fond of great noises that fill the air, wrote Hentzner at the close of the sixteenth cen- tury, such as firing of cannon, beating of drums, and ringing of bells;..., it is common that a number of them which have got a glass in their heads do get up into some belfry, and ring bells for hours together for the sake of exercise. Hence this country has been called the ringing island. There are quaint board records in the church tower of these and other ringings. In the adjoining church-yard rest the ashes of Bishops Thirlby and Turnstall and several of the primates; and here stands the curiously devised and carved tomb of the Tradescant family, whose united collections of natural history were the beginning of the Ashmolean Museum at Oxford. It has the following inscrip- tion: Know, stranger, ere thou pass, beneath this stone Lye John Tradescant, grandsire, father, son; The last died in his spring, the other two Lived till theyd travelled Art and Nature through; As by their choice collections may appear, Of what is rare in land, in sea and air, Whilst they (as homers Iliad in a nut) A world of wonders in one closet shut. These famous antiquarians, that had been Both gardeners to the rose and lily queen, Transplanted now, themselves sleep here, and when Angels shall with their trumpets waken men, And fire shall purge the world, these hence shall rise, And change this garden for a paradise. The church tower stands so close to the Gate-house as to look, from the river, like a larger tower of that fine structure which, standing on the same site as the earlier one, was built in 1484 by Arch- bishop Morton, and is known as Mortons Gateway. Probably neither in England nor in all Europe is there another piece of architect- THE PEDDLER AND STIS DOG. LAMBETH PALACE. 7 ure which has brought so much of beauty and grandeur as safely through all the natural and made vicissitudes of four cen- turies. It is built of red brick, with stone dressings, and faces the south. In the first story of the middle portion are the large arched Tudor doorway and smaller arch- ed postern to the right, and a large window looks out from the middle of the second story. This centre piece is flanked by two square and massive towers five stories in hei~ht, and heavily battlemented. At this gate was distributed the imme- inorial dole. The meaning of the word dole-- shar& or portionwas very literally observed in those days, the arch- bishGps making np munificent alms dishes from their own tables, adding also sums of money. This charity sometimes reached a very grand scale, Archbishop Winchelsey being specially mentioned by Godwin as having therein excelled all before or after him He maintained, says Godwin, many poor scholars a.t the universities, and was exceedingly bountiful to other persons in distress.... Besides the daily fragments of his house, he gave every Friday and Sun- day nuto every beggar that caine to his door a loafe of bread of a farthing price, sufficient for one person one day.... And there were usually on such alms days in times of (learth to the number of 5000, but in a plentiful time 4000, and seldom or nev LIBRARY AND GATEWAY LEADING TO LAMBETII PALACE. 8 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. er under, which alone summed up 500 ments of ten persons every Sunday, Tues- per annum.... Over and above this he day, and Thursday in rotation. This used to give, every great festival day, 150 dole continues to be distributed. En- pence to as many poore people; to send tering by the postern, we come under the daily meate, drink, and bread unto such as groined roof of the gateway to the larger~ by reason of age and sickness were not open arch which faces the north upon the able to fetch alms at his gate; and to send outer court-yard of the grounds. On the money, meate, and apparell to such as he thought wanted the same and were ashamed to beg. The dole at Lambeth in 1806 consisted of fifteen quartern loaves, nine stone of beef, and five shillings in halfpence. The beef was made into broth with oatmeal, and the whole dole, divided in three equal por- tions, was distributed among thirty poor persons, who came to receive it in install- right hand is the door of the porters lodge, and across to the left, through a door of open iron grating, are glimpses of laundry and culinary arrangements. Passing beyond the arch, immediately to the right is a door leading by a winding stone stair to upper rooms in the eastern gate tower, a portion separate in its in- ternal management from the rest of the Gate-house. There, in olden times, was a PLAN OF LAMBETH PALACE AND GROUNDS. LAMBETH PALACE. 9 strongly grated opening in the wall (since turned into a closet), where warders took note of all who passed up or down the stairs. Directly opposite this is a passage through a very thick wall, with heavy double doors, leading to a small room now used as a kitchen. Huge iron rings still fixed in its walls, and inscriptions near and around the iron-barred narrow win- dows, are similar to those in the dungeon of Lollards Tower, and it is believed that the overflow from that dismal eyrie were shut in here together, and their convic- tions frequently secured through the de- testable process of eaves-dropping. In the western tower of the Gate-house a doorway of the same sort has been closed up. In this tower the first floor was the sitting-room and sanctum of Archbishop Morton. On the second floor is the record or muniment room, where were stored the archives of the see, since removed to the fire-proof manuscript room next to Juxons Hall. The record room, with its massive door, spandreled fire - place, and ceils and walls of oak, is a stately presence-chamber, though its cracking seams now lean on strong supports. Along the south side of the outer court- yard extends what is now called Juxon 5 Hall, formerly known as the Great Hall. Nothing certain is known of its first foun- dation, but it existed in the time of Ed- ward II., and the design of the handsome ceiling is supposed to have originated with Archbishop Chicheley. It was spoiled in the time of the Commonwealth, but on the restoration of King Charles, Juxon, in his brief episcopate of three years, ex- pended 10,000 in rebuilding the hall, making as exact a re-creation as possible, in spite of strong influences and counsels in favor of newer designs. At the south end of Juxons Hall is a second covered archway, leading into the inner square court-yard. By a small door in the left wall of this arch we enter this hall, and find it a noble room nearly 100 feet long, over 50 feet high, by 38 feet broad. A louvre or lantern-house rises from the roof, and the vane bears the arms of the see of Canterbury impaling those of Juxon, with a mitre over them, and the date 1663. The five west windows rise between their deep buttresses to the very roof, and in the north bay beyond, what used to be a doorway is now a beautiful window, in which has been placed all that could be recovered of the glass of the windows of the old hall, comprising likenesses of the saints Jerome, Gregory, and Augustine, and the young portrait of Chicheley, queerly encircled with Parkers motto. Other strange fragments, memorials of Edward III., Philip of Spain, and the age of Queen Mary, together with the brill- iant coats of arms of later archbishops, particularly of those connected with the libraryfor Juxons Hall is now the pal- ace library-brighten this interesting win- dow, and the arms of Bancroft and How- ley appear again in panels in the north and south end walls. The coats of arms of the twelve archbishops who have taken the greatest interest in and given most to the growth of the library have recently, and at his own expense, been placed at the entrances to the book alcoves, at the tops of the cases, by the present librarian, Mr. S. W. Kershaw. The room is wain- scoted, and has a paved floor; oak, chest- nut, and other woods are wrought into the beautiful ceiling. Ah, maani, says the gate-keepers wife, who goes with us, and plainly loves every inch of the old palace, if you could only stand here when the snow is coming down, when the thick soft flakes fill the air with that wonderful white- ness. then such a strange and beautiful light comes in, maam, through the lan- tern up there, and slips into all the little places where you can see only the shad- ows now, and brings out all the carvings quite clear in a dim golden light. Oh, its in a snow-storm you should see that roof, maam ! Between some of the buttresses are thriftily growing some cuttings from the famous white Marseilles fig-trees said to have been planted by Cardinal Pole, which in 1806 rose fifty feet from the soil, covered an area of forty feet, and bore delicious fruit. The original use for such halls as these, both in Lambeth Palace and other great English mansions, was hospitality. Be- sides the hospitable Winchelsey, whose enormous charities I have cited, Cranmer, Pole, and Parker were eminent for the same virtue, and this great hall saw note- worthy gatherings. In Knights London I find that Cran- mer s manage comprised the following list of officers: Steward, treasurer, comp- troller, gamators, clerk of the kitchen, ca 10 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. terers, clerk of the spicery, yeoman of ing when the whole body of the reform- the ewry, bakers, pant]ers, yeomen of the tainted bishops and clergy were summon- horse, yeoman ushers, butlers of wine and ed by Archbishop Pole, with Bonner and ale, larderers, squilleries, ushers of tbe Gardiner at his side, and were absolved hall, porter ushers of the chamber, daily of their heresies, and instructed for their waiters in the great chamber, marshal, future conrse. groom, ushers, almoner, cooks, chandler, Again, some forty years later, was con- butchers, master of the horse, yeomen of yoked here the equally contrasting assem- the wardrobe, and harbingers. And Phil- bly, presided over by Whitgift, acting as ip and Mary gave Cardinal Pole a patent a self-constituted body to draw np the so- to retain one hundred servants. From all called Lambeth Articles, which were this service we can imagine what great kept in abeyance by Elizabeth. Gradual- and generous state was kept up at the ly this hall fell into comparative disuse palace. until 1829, when Archbishop Howley came Meals were served here (Juxons Hall) to the see, and began to repair the palace. at three tables, the guests and house- He spent 75,000half the sum from hold being seated in order of precedence. his own purse and was careful to pre- There was a monitor of the hall, says serve whatever was really ancient or of one chronicler, and if it happened that historic interest, but had small scruple in any one spoke too loud, or concerning pulling down the patchwork jumble things less decent, it was presently hush- that had been barnacled upon it during ed by one that cried Silence! which the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. would be a sensible custom for some Room was thns made for the fine modern fashionable dining salons of to-day. All buildings of the architect Blores construc- strangers met with full and gentle court- tion, which reach eastward into the gar- esy, and were assigned to their appropriate dens and front on the inner court-yard. places at the archbishops well-spread Howley fitted up the hall with book- board. cases and reading alcoves, to receive the Sometimes, however, the burden of the valuable library of ecclesiastical and theo- hospitality was confessedly felt to be too logical history, exquisitely painted works onerons, as in the primacy of Archbishop of the sixteenth and seventeenth centu- Abbot when the High Commission Court ries, art treasures in illuminated MSS. sitting for Snrrey was held at Lambeth. and missals now stored there, and the se- On every Thursday while its term lasted, ries of archiepiscopal registers from A. the palace was literally filled, the lords 1279 to 1747, entire but for a single break assembling there, together with the jus- of twenty-seven years between 1322 and tices of the whole county. And be- 1349, comprising the registers of four arch- sides all this great labor for my servants, bishops, supposed to have been transferred says Abbots own account, it cost me to IRomne. Since the time of Archbishop some 2000 in money; but I gave them Potter this series of registers has been entertainment and sate with them, albeit kept at Doctors Commons. I said nothing, for the confusion was so Lambeth Palace had no public library great I knew not what to make of it. before the seventeenth century, when Besides consecration banquets, two Archbishop Bancroft began to gather one, meetings of the Houses of Convocation and at his death left the whole of his fine adjourned here, once from St. Pauls and collection for the use of his successors for- once from Westminster, owing to the ill- ever, and so wisely protected this bequest nesses of Archbishops Kemp and Whit- in his will that it could not, in any of the gift. It was in this hall that the oath violent changes that followed, be averted giving the royal succession to the heirs of from its lawful heirs. Abbot, Secker, Anne Boleyn was administered to the Coruwallis, and other primates added clergy by Cranmer; here that Sir Thomas their books to the generous gift of Ban- More and Bishop Fisher stoutly repudiated croft, and in 1826 there were 25,000 vol- it; here that Craumer and his foe Bonner nines. They were, of course, learned, recriminated when Bonner and Gardiner rare and curious works ; and besides were called before the primate, deposed, ecelesiastics and polemics, English histo- and sent to prison; here that Cranmer ry and topography with some wonderful himself was sentenced to death. Here, embellishments, and romance, poetry, and too, in 1554, came the contrasting meet- general literature. LAMBETTI PALACE. 11 Now the library has increased to 30,000 King Charles i., in a life of Archbishop volumes, besides religions, historical, and Laud, and a MS. has the signature of Ca- political pamphlets. Large gaps in the nute. Tinted illustrations of the old tow- theological department were supplied by ers and fortresses that survived the Irish Professor Selwyn, of Cambridge. The rec- agitations of Elizabeths rule are in a curi- ords of the see and about 2000 MSS. are in otis work entitled Ireland Appeased. One the fire-proof room adjoining. Archbish- of the fonr existing vellum copies of the ops Manners - Sutton and Howley gave Mazarin Bible, with its profusion of rich- much to the library, and their initials or ly artistic initial letters, is here in excel- autographs mark the gifts of the success- lent preservation also the very scarce ive donors. Among famous autographs Aggas Plan of London, and the collec- are those of Fox and Cranmer one of tion by Coruwallis of the print portraits ~Y ~. TIlE GUARI)-itOOM, LAMBETII PALACE. 12 HARPER$ NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. of the archbishops from the Reformation downward. The MSS. illustrative of many styles of art show specially fine specimens of the Anglo-Irish, Anglo-Saxon, French, English, Flemish, Italian, and Persian ii- luminations. That of the Notable Wise Dictes and Sayings of Philosophers shows its translator, the Earl of Rivers, in the act of presenting Caxton, the printer, to the king, queei~, Duke of York, and court. The earl had discreetly omitted from the work certain malicious comments on women, which the sly Caxton, first humorously deprecating, took good care to insert in full as an appendix. A rare MS. of Gospels of MacDurnan, illustrated in Irish art, was given to the city of Can- terbury in AD. 900 by King Athelstan. The St. Albans Chronicle of the fifteenth century has nineteen large and fifty small illuminations, the Apocalypse of St. John, with seventy-eight illustrations in gold and deep coloring, is very rich, and so is the Limoges missal, a beautiful speci- men of French art. The school of Per- sian art is represented by two copies of the Koran in Arabic text, splendidly il- luminated in white, blue, and gold, with Oriental enamelling. Of a fine example of Italian art Archbishop Laud wrote in his diary (1637): A book in vellum, fair written, containing the records which are in the Tower, I got done at my own charge, and have left it in my study at Lambeth for posterity. The library is open to the public under proper regulations, the MSS.may be copied from, and are even lent out upon signed orders from the archbishop. Under arch- bishop Longley it was opened for three days in the week, and this privilege was increased to five days by the late primate, Dr. Tait, and modern works are lent out as in other libraries. The librarians have been scholarly men, beginning with the pre-eminently learned Dr. Henry Wharton, personal friend of Archbishop Sancroft, and author of the Anglia Sacra. Among his successors were Dr. Edmund Gibson, Tenisons chap- lain, afterward Bishop of Lincoln, and Camdens editor; Dr. David Wilkins, ed- itor of Concilia Miagna, etc.; Dr. Ducarel, a profound antiquarian, albeit Walpole testily called him a poor creature, and author, among much other work, of a very valuable history of Lambeth; Dr. Mait- land, in Howleys time; and John Rich- ard Green, the historian of the English people. The present librarian, Mr. S. W. Kershaw, author of an exhaustive cata- logue of the Art Treasures of Lambeth, has in press a new and larger work treat- ing of this famous library. Leaving it by the northeast door, we enter a square room with nothing in it but a stairway, and by this we reach the long picture-gallery, running first to the north and then to the west, just as the old clois- ters and galleries used to lie. In this quadrangle, sometimes called Poles Gallery, the paintings are what the apothecarys boy called a mixtur, mostly portraits of Church dignitaries. Some are exceedingly good; one, said to be a likeness of Bishop Potter in his sixth year, represents the little fellow in a bish- ops dress. The head is large, the face bright, with a sweet gravity of expression, and he holds in one hand a book sup- posed to be the Greek Testament, his fin- ger between the leaves at the point he has reached in reading it. From this gallery we enter the Guard- room, once as significant in its appoint- ments, as it still is in name, of the time when the primates were not only spirit- ual but feudal lords and law officers of the Crown, and defended their palace in those early troubled times when crowns were at battledoor and shnttlecock with royal heads. Here probably once hung the very helmet and cuirass in which Archbishop Baldwin died fighting by the side of Richard the Lion-hearted. A Guard - room is traced to 1424, and it is related of Thomas ?L Becket that he had 700 knights as part of his house- hold, besides 1200 stipendiary retainers and 4000 followers serving him forty days. But gradually the guardsmen were no longer needed, and their arms, which passed by purchase from archbishop to archbishop, covered the walls, where, in Lauds time, enough were hung up to accoutre 200 men. Now these are all gone, and only the name remains to remind of those times when this handsome room must indeed have been lively with the uproar of voices, the clinking of pledge cups, and the clangor of arms. Yet it did not look a dull scene during the palace garden parties this summer of 1882, when the guests flocked in from the gardens to drink the social cup of teaor coffee if you choseand eat of the nice cakes and fresh fruits, so prettily arranged they lent as much charm of color as the flowers. Be- LAMBETH PALACE. 13 sides the white hair, grave eyes, and gen- tle smile of the host, and the cultured faces of the clergy, my memory singles out most clearly from among the throng, brilliant with costumes and orders, the plain dark dress, slight bent figure, and keen eye of Lord Houghton the same who sang in younger days, He who for love has undergone The worst that can hefall Is happier thousandfold than one Who never loved at all, and whose pretty lyric, the Brook Side is still sung not only in English homes, but by hosts of American girls who never think of the author as a white-haired old man in the House of Lords. In the general restoration of 1829 the walls of the Guard-room being found pithless, the old roof was lifted, and the walls rebuilt; then it was lowered upon them again. The old design was follow- ed in the main, but in place of the four Tudor windows there are two light Early English windows. The floor, like the roof, is of oak; a large Turkey carpet spreads to within three feet of the walls all around the room; the chairs, tables, etc., are of mahogany; and gold and silver ware and candelabra show brightly against the dark panels of the wainscoting. The old fire-place, so enormous its man- tel reached the corbels of the roof, was diminished in the repetition, and the floor raised about three feet to give more space to the rooms below. The wainscoting, which also used to meet the corbels, rises only about four feet, and the space of cream-colored wall thus left between it and the corbels is filled with the portraits of most of the last four centuries of arch- bishops, twenty-six in all, and the Guard- room is now the dining-hall and portrait gallery of the see. Of Lauds portrait by Vandyck, Mr. Cave Brown feelingly remarks: One can not contemplate that face without mingled feelings: respect for that conscientious steadfastness which made him dare to do what he believed to be his duty, regret for that lack of judgment and considera- tion which made him so uncompromising and unconciliatory to his own ruin, and admiration of the heroism with which, at the age of threescore and ten, still true to his life-long convictions, still unbending before the malice of his enemies unwaver- ing in his sense of duty, unshaken in his trust in God, the old man closed a career of trouble and trial on the block. Here are the portraits of Warhamthe generous Warham who laid out some 30,000 on episcopal palaces, and most of this large sum on Lambethand Cranmer, both by Holbein, Herring, by Hogarth, and Secker, by Sir Joshua. The portrait of Cornwallis, who had a beautiful foot and leg, and was fond of exercising the light fantastic toe, is appropriately paint- ed, and very well too, by one Dance. This prelate and his wife were altogether such merry people that George III. re- proved him for festivities which he said were more becoming in a king than in a primate, and forbade Mrs. Coruwallis to give any more of her very pleasant parties on Sundays. Cornwallis seems to have been sensible as well as merry, for he is recorded as be- ing the first archbishop who allowed his chaplains to sit at table with him. Else- where in the palace is a greatly treasured Holbein of Luther and his wife, and a beautiful portrait of Catherine Parr. Just beyond the Guard-room stands the old red brick building known as Cran- mer s Tower, which he put up in 1533. In the lower room, now used as a vestry, is the rare old chest of gopher-woodand a beauty it iscovered all over its dark rich surfaces with deftly carved scenes from Babylonish history funerals, and festi- vals, and hanging gardens. It is believed to have belonged to St. Godiva, the sister of St. Augustine, or to the sister of the Prince of Orange, and is really a fasci- nating object of study. Tradition says that Cranmer, ostensibly a celibate, concealed his wife in this tow- er, and that there she died in childbed. The vestry and Cranmers parlorthe room next above, where the organ now standshave walls and ceilings of solid oak. By the south door of the vestry- room we enter the chapel at its east or communion end. The chapel dates from the niiddle of the thirteenth century. The east end has a large very beautiful stained glass win- dow of five graduated lancets set in shafts of Purbeck marble. A similar window in the west end was closed up by the erec- tion of Chicheleys Tower, but its splays and shafts were left, and in the central lancet Juxon placed a small bay-window jutting inward, probably to hold the lamps by which on occasion the atrium, 14 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. or ante-chapel, partitioned off by a hand- a single slab of Purbeck marble, as also some oak screen, is lighted, are their bases while a cluster of The roof and walls of this atrium are Purbeck shafts similarly grouped rise be- gray, and its wall pillars of Purbeck mar- tween, dividing the two lesser arches. ble are said to be 1000 years old. The Probably by this door, scarred and mark- shafts of the four bay-windows of triple lancets on each side of the chapel, which is seventy-two feet long and twenty-five broad-a very pleasing proportion with the roof are also of this Purbeck marble. The illuminated windows, and the warm tile painting of the walls, with the richly decorated groined and arched roofalter- ed in 1846 from the old fiat panels form a beautiful interior. The doorway lead- ing west from the chapel into the post- room was once entered directly from the terrace above the moorin~s of the arch- bishop~s barge. It is a semi-circular arch of earliest English period, embracing two cusped arches, each closed by a mass- ive oaken door. The jambs contain a row of four columns, of which the cap- itals and projections bonding the whole into the main wall are cut en bloc out of ed, yet looking soberly equal to many cen- turies more,came into the old chapel an illustrious guest, Peter the Great, who, then on his English travels, attended the services where one Christopher Clarke was ordained here in 1697. Archbishop Morton spent large sums to make the chapel beautiful, but, with the coming in of his successor, literature and, unhappily, religions fanaticism leaped into fresh life together. Yet in spite of much trying and sentencing, mercy some- times prevailed, for Latimer, brought to Lambeth excommunicated and a prisoner, was kindly treated by Archbishop War- ham; and that this primate was kind to Erasmus is shown by the latters dedication of his Jerome, which he sent to Warham by the young artist Hans Holbein. And under Cranmer the palace became a refuge ~ by T. Briggs and Son, London. LOLLARDS TOWER. LAMBETH PALACE. 15 even for prisoners sent straight from Hen- ry VIII. Archbishop Parker, who was also very kind to his prisoners, is the only archbishop who was ever buried at the palace. His tomb was originally in the southeast corner of the communion, where he usually knelt in prayer. But in the time of the Commonwealth Cromwells men, in their shameless spoliation of the palace, selected the chapel as a dining or dance hallsome say for a stable and not liking the vicinity of Parkers tomb, they broke it open, hid the remains in a dunghill, and sold the lead and trimmings of the coffin. On the Restoration Ham~- dynge was forced to tell where the re- mains were, and they now rest in a hand- some tomb of Purbeck marble in the atri- um behind the oak screen. While Laud was earnestly repairing the ruin wrought by Cromwells men his en- emies looked on and cried out that he was copying from the mass - book, and though he truly pro- tested that his work was that of restora- tion, pure and simple, they triumphed over him; he went to the block, and the chapel was again despoiled. Memorable events have happened in this chapel. Five hundred years ago Wycliffe met there the charge of her- esy. Once before he had been thus arraign- ed in St. Pauls Cathe- dral, with prince and nobles supporting him in his denunciations of the ill-gotten and ill- spent wealth of mo- nastic houses. Now he stood quite alone, though as dauntless. Suddenly the Lollards swarmed into the chap- el, and immediately after entered Sir Lewis most lovingly welcomed by Archbishop Longley, and one of their number preach- ed the opening sermon at the first Lam- beth Conference. They won all hearts at that time by their manly, unaffected sim- plicity, as well as vigor. I believe said the Archbishop of Dublin, that they are about the ablest body of men I ever met. They, on their part, were moved with 4elight at the heartiness of their re- ception, and sent over as a thank-offering to the mother Church of England the handsome alms dish which ornaments the Lords table at Lambeth. When the next conference met, in 1878, although the shad- ow of death hung over the palace, they found a welcome extended to them none the less hearty, and in remembrance of this second visit they presented to the chapel the beautifnl centre light in one of the south windows. The southeastern stained-glass window was a gift by his many friends to the memory of Craufurd /eo ~mt q O.LTh& T~O \4f~( ~ -~a~ \ rQrl i$i~ ~J~c Jf~n.~c~y I f[~CjP& te lYii~ 7 ~JOY~ {~y6~Re f~fCrIc? ~cl~V11 Clifford, and gave the astounded arch- Tait, the late primates only and indeed bishop the queen-mothers commands to well-beloved son, whose pure character, withhold the sentence against Wycliffe. fine mind, and gentle manners won so To the American Church Lambeth much love and admiration during his vis- Chapel is a shrine especially dear, writes it to America, and who died just before an English clergyman. Here Provoorst, the last conference met. White, and Madison were consecrated, and The Post - room is probably so called here in 1867 the American bishops were from time stout pillar which supports the INTERIOR OF LOLLARDS rRI5ON AND FAc-SIMILE OF WRITING ON THE WALLS. [6 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. great ceil beam in the centre, though some accounts, lending a less simple interest to the name state that prisoners who under- went preliminary examinations here were fib ~ged at this post, and thence shown through the south door into a dungeon, through whose upper gratings the Thames sometimes flowed in at high tide. Now the waters of the Thames lie some yards away, tossing themselves against the beautiful embankment, which renders the archbishops barge no longer necessa- ry. Of a group of three towers at the northwestern corner of the palace, the largest and central one, built by Chicheley in 1436, is known as the Lollards Tower. A winding stair leads to the dungeon at the top, whose thick doors, rude locks, and other peculiarities indicate that it is the oldest portion of this palace, not even excepting the half-filled-up and little-used crypt. It is the only part of the palace now standing that is built of stone, and here it has been thought that the Lollards were imprisoned. Eight large rings are fixed in its oak-lined walls, which are cut and scratched with several inscriptions in old English characters. A dismal cell it is to be found in a religions house; but the privilege granted to the clergy by King Johns charter of being arraigned only before ecclesiastical courts is said to have first built prisons in episcopal palaces. Archbishop Bouchier sorrowfully admitted that they were a necessary check to gross profligacy among the clergy. Dean Hook, Dr. Maitland, and other writers think the Lollards were never shut up here; that Peter Lollard, who started Lollardism, suf- fered as a disaffected political agitator at Cologne in 1321, two years before Wyc- life was born; that the latter, though a heretic, was an unswerving loyalist; and that the confusion in this matter arose from the circumstances which brought these two movements so near each other in time, and sometimes seemingly in sym-, pathy. There was a Lollards Tower of which Latimer said he would rather be in pur- gatory than lie in it, and of which an- other victim exclaimed, If I were a dog, LAMBETH rALACETHE PRIMATE S RESIDENCE. LAMBETTI PALACE. 17 you could not appoint a worse or viler er named Watts kept an open table on place. But it is asserted that this tower market-days for neighboring gentry and was never at Lambeth; that, on the con- clergy. Moore ate of this board; but at trary, when the great fire swept away all last Watts noticed that he ceased to come, traces of old London House, of Bonners and bluntly questioned hhn about it. I Inquisition and dungeons, with old St. am at this time already 10 in your debt, Pauls, the traditions of the true Loflards Tower of London House were fastened easily to the dismal iron-ringed cell of the so-called Lollards Tower at Lambeth. This seems further confirmed by the ac- knowledged contrast in the characters of Archbishop Pole, tolerant and gentle for a Romanist, and the cruel Bonner, Bishop of London, Pole preferring to pacify the Pope by cremating the dead, while Bon- ner and Winchester enjoyed burning the living. Thirlby, the first and last Bishop of Westminster, and the deposed Bishop of Durham, were honored guests rather than captives of Archbishop Parker, and the unfortunate Earl of Essex staid here be- fore being taken to the Tower of London. Still, several authorities contend that the Lollards really suffered at Lambeth. In this disagreement one thing remains in- disputable, that the tower was a place of misery for many in the seventeenth cen- tury. One Dr. Guy Carleton was rescued from it by his wife. She came in a boat to the foot of the Water Tower, provided with a rope, which she managed to get to him. It was too short, but he let himself down by it, and in dropping the remain- ing distance both dislocated and broke his leg. With her help he crawled into the boat. She hid him, and sold her cloth- ing and worked at day labor to support him until he could escape to France whence he returned on the Restoration, and had the bishoprics of Bristol and Chi- chester. From June 7 till August 11, in 1780, during the Lord Gordon riots, the palace was regularly garrisoned, the primate and his family having been prevailed on to seek other refuge. The officers were well lodged and entertained by the two chap- lains, and the soldiers, with their wives and children, ate in the great hall, and had of the best, and doubtless were a lit- tle sorry when the troublesome times were past. Excellent anecdotes are chronicled of some of the Archbishops of Canterbury. John Moore (archbishop in 1783) was ear- ly in his life a poor curate of Brockley, in Northamptonshire. A well-to-do plumb- was Moores reply, and as I can not pay it, I do feel a little delicacy in further in- truding at your hospitable table. But Watts begged him to return, assuring him there were 20 more there at his service. Later, Watts became very poor, but Moore. who had in the mean time risen to the mitre, sought hhn out, placed him in com- fort, and settled an annuity on his widow which, until her death, at the age of nii~e- ty-seven, was regularly paid by his family. Of John Tillotson, who cried out concern- ing the French refugees and the Edict of Nantes, Charity is above rubrics, Tans- well relates that in private life lie always set apart one-fifth of his income for the poor and for good works, and on becom.- ing archbishop spent his income in this way so entirely that he could only at death leave two volumes of his sermons to his family. These brought 2500! From photograph by Samuel P ikar, London. EDWARD WHITE BENSON, D. D., THE PRESENT ARCHBiShOP OF cANTERBURY. 18 HAIRPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. At a dinner of the domestics during Lauds primacy it is told that King Charles I. s jester pronounced this grace: Give great praise to God, but little Laud to the devil. for which piece of vicious wit the fool is said to have paid by long iinprisoiiinent, if not death. Concerning the wife of Manners-Sutton, Lord Eldon, when dining with that prelate aud Q-eorge III., was quite as rude as the kings jester. and certainly more coarse, when he said: Its a curious fact that your Majestys Archbishop and your Lord Chan- cellor both married their wives clandes- tinely. But I had sonie excuse, for Bes sic Surties was the prettiest girl in all Newcastle, while Mrs. Sutton was always the l)uInPkii~-faced thing she is at pre- sent. Oii one occasion Erasmus went with Dean Colet by boat to see Archbish- op Warham. As the boat glided along, the dean sat porino over Erasmuss Rem- edg Jor Anger. Arriving at the palace, they were received most cordially, but Dean Colet grew suddenly very glum, and it was only by the gentlest tact that time amiable Warham could win hini to good humor again. When they were in the boat once more the dean explained to Erasmus that he had found himself at ta DRAWING-ROOM, LAMBETII rALACE. THE FOLDING. 19 ble just opposite an uncle whom he cor- dially hated, but that the effect of reading the Remedy for Anger, together with the archbishops patience, had finally over- come his wrath, even to the point of be- ing reconciled to his uncle. As long as Warham lived he was most kind to Eras- mus, the brave, sensitive scholar at whose heels all the ignorance and bigotry of Europe were yelping. Mr. Green re- lates that Warham once sent a horse to Erasmus, which very likely getting changed en routeappeared so little to advantage in the eyes of his new master, he wrote to Warham that his horse was very like a father confessor, being vice- less except for gluttony and laziness, and only too prudent, modest, humble, chaste, and peaceable. The officials of the Stationers Company used to wait formally on the archbishop to give him copies of their almanacs which were not issuable without the sanc- tion of the Established Churchand re- ceive in return cakes and ale. This cus- tom arose in this way. When Tenison enjoyed the see a relation of his, hap- pening to be master of the Stationers Company, thought it a compliment to call in full state in his barge with the new al- manac. The archbishop sent out wine, bread, cheese, and ale sufficient for all in the barge. Now the enstom is limited solely to the giving the almanacs, minus the recompensing cakes and ale. The palace grounds as a whole cover an area of about twenty-two acres. The dwelling apartments of the primate and his family are in the modern range, stretching to the east from Cranmer s Tower, erected by Blore during the pri- macy of Rowley. They are large, and in all their arrangements tasteful and com- fortable. His Graces study* has a quaint fire-place, all the usual literary appoint- ments, is full of books, and convenient to his private rooms, which are large and pleasant. The most remarkable of the rooms is the large drawing-room, with its tall, wide windows looking north upon the pleasant greenswards. The Houses of Parliament, with a glimpse of the Abbey, are seen to the left, and the handsome wards of the St. Thomas Hospital, and the whole view is lovely. In the long roll of Primates of All Eng land who have made Lambeth their home, few names will be remembered with more reverence and affection than that of the late archbishop, Dr. Tait. He knew much of personal sorrow, and the readers of that tender and touching book, the memorial of Catherine and Craufurd Tait, compiled partly by the husband and father himself, will remember Mrs. Taits own account of the affliction which befell them in 1856, when her husband was Dean of Carlisle, in the deaths of five lovely little daughters by scarlet fever within as many weeks. And though he lived in a comparative- ly happy period of English history, the Church knew troublous times, in which its head needed to be the strong, true, broad man that he was. The words of one writer, that his kindliness, wisdom, and moderation entitle him to the lasting grat- itude of the English Church, may be tru- ly cited as expressing the general opinion of his labors. In his summer home at Croydon and at Lambeth Palace he ap- peared, among the daughters left to him, a loving father and a most gentle host. I heard him speak of Garfields death from the pulpit of St. Martins - in - the Fields, and I thought it the justest and fittest utterance made on that theme in England. On his death-bed he remained still mindful of the work that was given him to do, and his last efforts were direct- ed with successful tact to the removal of one of the difficulties in the way of the reconciliation of the parties in the Church. To the new primate, Dr. Benson, who comes from vigorous and able work in his see of Truro, he has left that best of lega- ciesthe fruits of the life of a man who was both good and wise. THE FOLDING. There shall be one fold and one shepherd. WILD bird flying northward, whither thou? And vessel bending southward, what thy quest? Clouds of the east, with sunshine on your brow, Whither? and crescent setting in the west? Still we pursue while the white day is ours: The wild bird journeys northward in his strength; The tender clouds waste in their sunny bowers One shepherd guides and gathers them at length. Fly swift, ye birds, against the north wind fly! And crowd your sail, ye vessel southward hound! Sleep, sleep, ye clouds, upon the happy sky! Thus nightly in the fold shall all be found. * Marked on chart as private library. VOL. LXVII.No. 3972

THE FOLDING. 19 ble just opposite an uncle whom he cor- dially hated, but that the effect of reading the Remedy for Anger, together with the archbishops patience, had finally over- come his wrath, even to the point of be- ing reconciled to his uncle. As long as Warham lived he was most kind to Eras- mus, the brave, sensitive scholar at whose heels all the ignorance and bigotry of Europe were yelping. Mr. Green re- lates that Warham once sent a horse to Erasmus, which very likely getting changed en routeappeared so little to advantage in the eyes of his new master, he wrote to Warham that his horse was very like a father confessor, being vice- less except for gluttony and laziness, and only too prudent, modest, humble, chaste, and peaceable. The officials of the Stationers Company used to wait formally on the archbishop to give him copies of their almanacs which were not issuable without the sanc- tion of the Established Churchand re- ceive in return cakes and ale. This cus- tom arose in this way. When Tenison enjoyed the see a relation of his, hap- pening to be master of the Stationers Company, thought it a compliment to call in full state in his barge with the new al- manac. The archbishop sent out wine, bread, cheese, and ale sufficient for all in the barge. Now the enstom is limited solely to the giving the almanacs, minus the recompensing cakes and ale. The palace grounds as a whole cover an area of about twenty-two acres. The dwelling apartments of the primate and his family are in the modern range, stretching to the east from Cranmer s Tower, erected by Blore during the pri- macy of Rowley. They are large, and in all their arrangements tasteful and com- fortable. His Graces study* has a quaint fire-place, all the usual literary appoint- ments, is full of books, and convenient to his private rooms, which are large and pleasant. The most remarkable of the rooms is the large drawing-room, with its tall, wide windows looking north upon the pleasant greenswards. The Houses of Parliament, with a glimpse of the Abbey, are seen to the left, and the handsome wards of the St. Thomas Hospital, and the whole view is lovely. In the long roll of Primates of All Eng land who have made Lambeth their home, few names will be remembered with more reverence and affection than that of the late archbishop, Dr. Tait. He knew much of personal sorrow, and the readers of that tender and touching book, the memorial of Catherine and Craufurd Tait, compiled partly by the husband and father himself, will remember Mrs. Taits own account of the affliction which befell them in 1856, when her husband was Dean of Carlisle, in the deaths of five lovely little daughters by scarlet fever within as many weeks. And though he lived in a comparative- ly happy period of English history, the Church knew troublous times, in which its head needed to be the strong, true, broad man that he was. The words of one writer, that his kindliness, wisdom, and moderation entitle him to the lasting grat- itude of the English Church, may be tru- ly cited as expressing the general opinion of his labors. In his summer home at Croydon and at Lambeth Palace he ap- peared, among the daughters left to him, a loving father and a most gentle host. I heard him speak of Garfields death from the pulpit of St. Martins - in - the Fields, and I thought it the justest and fittest utterance made on that theme in England. On his death-bed he remained still mindful of the work that was given him to do, and his last efforts were direct- ed with successful tact to the removal of one of the difficulties in the way of the reconciliation of the parties in the Church. To the new primate, Dr. Benson, who comes from vigorous and able work in his see of Truro, he has left that best of lega- ciesthe fruits of the life of a man who was both good and wise. THE FOLDING. There shall be one fold and one shepherd. WILD bird flying northward, whither thou? And vessel bending southward, what thy quest? Clouds of the east, with sunshine on your brow, Whither? and crescent setting in the west? Still we pursue while the white day is ours: The wild bird journeys northward in his strength; The tender clouds waste in their sunny bowers One shepherd guides and gathers them at length. Fly swift, ye birds, against the north wind fly! And crowd your sail, ye vessel southward hound! Sleep, sleep, ye clouds, upon the happy sky! Thus nightly in the fold shall all be found. * Marked on chart as private library. VOL. LXVII.No. 3972 THE HUNDRED YEARS WAR. EUROPEAN history makes much of the Seven Years War and the Thir- ty Years War ; and when we think of a continuous national contest for even the least of those periods, there is some- thing terrible in the picture. But the feeble American colonies, in addition to all the difficulties of pioneer life, had to sustain a warfare that lasted, with few in- termissions, for almost a hundred years. It was, moreover, a warfare against the most savage and stealthy enemies, gradu- ally trained and re-enforced by the most formidable military skill of Europe. With- out counting the early feuds, such as the Pequot War, there elapsed almost precise- ly a century from the accession of King Philip in 1662 to the Peace of Paris, which nominally ended the last French and In- dian War in 1763. During this whole period, with pacific intervals that some- times lasted for years, the same essential contest went on; the real question being, for the greater part of the time, whether France or England should control the continent. The description of this pro- longed war may therefore well precede any general account of the colonial or provincial life in America. The early explorers of the Atlantic coast generally testify that they found the Indians a gentle, not a ferocious, people. They were as ready as could be expected to accept the friendship of the white race. In almost every case of quarrel the white men were the imme- diate aggressors, and where they were at- tacked without seeming causeas when Smiths Virginian colony was assailed by the Indians in the first fortnight of its ex- istencethere is good reason to think that the act of the Indians was in revenge for wrongs elsewhere. One of the first im- pulses of the early explorers was to kid- nap natives for exhibition in Europe, in order to excite the curiosity of kings or the zeal of priests; and even where these captives were restored unharmed, the dis- trust could not be removed. Add to this the acts of plunder, lust, or violence, and there was plenty of provocation given from the very outset. The disposition to cheat and defraud the Indians has been much exaggerated, at least as regards the English settlers. The early Spanish invaders made no pretense of buying one foot of land from the In- dians, whereas the English often went through the form of purchase, and very commonly put in practice the reality. The Pilgrims, when in great distress at the very beginning, took baskets of corn from an Indian grave, and paid for them afterward. The year after the Massachu- setts colony was founded, the court de- creed: It is ordered that Josias Plastowe shall (for stealing four baskets of corn& from the Indians) returne them eight bas- kets againe, be fined five pounds, and hereafter called by the name of Josias, and not Mr., as formerly he used to be. As a mere matter of policy, it was th& general disposition of the English settlers~ to obtain lands by honest sale; indeed, Governor Josiah Winslow, of Plymouth, declared, in reference to King Philips War, that before these present troubles. broke out the English did not possess one foot of land in this colony but what was fairly obtained by honest purchase of the Indian proprietors. This policy was quite general. Captain West in 1610 bought the site of what is now Rich- mond; Virginia, for some copper. The Dutch Governor Minuit bought the isl- and of Manhattan in 1626 for sixty gild- ers. Lord Baltimores company pur- chased land for cloth, tools, and trink- ets ; the Swedes obtained the site of Christiana for a kettle; Roger Williams. bought the island of Rhode Island for forty fathoms of white beads; and New Haven was sold to the whites in 1638 for twelve coats of English cloth, twelve alchemy spoons, twelve hoes, twelve hatch- ets, twelve porringers, twenty-four knives, and twenty-four cases of French knives and spoons. Many other such purchases. will be found recorded by Dr. Ellis. And though the price paid might often seem ludicrously small, yet we must remember that a knife or a hatchet was really worth more to an Indian than many square miles of wild land; while even the beads were a substitute for wampum, or wom- pom, which was their circulating medium in dealing with each other and with the whites, and was worth in 1660 five shil- lings a fathom. So far as the mere bargaining went, the~ Indians were not individually the suffer- ers in the early days; but we must remem- ber that behind all these transactions there. often lay a theory which was as merciless.

THE HUNDRED YEARS WAR. EUROPEAN history makes much of the Seven Years War and the Thir- ty Years War ; and when we think of a continuous national contest for even the least of those periods, there is some- thing terrible in the picture. But the feeble American colonies, in addition to all the difficulties of pioneer life, had to sustain a warfare that lasted, with few in- termissions, for almost a hundred years. It was, moreover, a warfare against the most savage and stealthy enemies, gradu- ally trained and re-enforced by the most formidable military skill of Europe. With- out counting the early feuds, such as the Pequot War, there elapsed almost precise- ly a century from the accession of King Philip in 1662 to the Peace of Paris, which nominally ended the last French and In- dian War in 1763. During this whole period, with pacific intervals that some- times lasted for years, the same essential contest went on; the real question being, for the greater part of the time, whether France or England should control the continent. The description of this pro- longed war may therefore well precede any general account of the colonial or provincial life in America. The early explorers of the Atlantic coast generally testify that they found the Indians a gentle, not a ferocious, people. They were as ready as could be expected to accept the friendship of the white race. In almost every case of quarrel the white men were the imme- diate aggressors, and where they were at- tacked without seeming causeas when Smiths Virginian colony was assailed by the Indians in the first fortnight of its ex- istencethere is good reason to think that the act of the Indians was in revenge for wrongs elsewhere. One of the first im- pulses of the early explorers was to kid- nap natives for exhibition in Europe, in order to excite the curiosity of kings or the zeal of priests; and even where these captives were restored unharmed, the dis- trust could not be removed. Add to this the acts of plunder, lust, or violence, and there was plenty of provocation given from the very outset. The disposition to cheat and defraud the Indians has been much exaggerated, at least as regards the English settlers. The early Spanish invaders made no pretense of buying one foot of land from the In- dians, whereas the English often went through the form of purchase, and very commonly put in practice the reality. The Pilgrims, when in great distress at the very beginning, took baskets of corn from an Indian grave, and paid for them afterward. The year after the Massachu- setts colony was founded, the court de- creed: It is ordered that Josias Plastowe shall (for stealing four baskets of corn& from the Indians) returne them eight bas- kets againe, be fined five pounds, and hereafter called by the name of Josias, and not Mr., as formerly he used to be. As a mere matter of policy, it was th& general disposition of the English settlers~ to obtain lands by honest sale; indeed, Governor Josiah Winslow, of Plymouth, declared, in reference to King Philips War, that before these present troubles. broke out the English did not possess one foot of land in this colony but what was fairly obtained by honest purchase of the Indian proprietors. This policy was quite general. Captain West in 1610 bought the site of what is now Rich- mond; Virginia, for some copper. The Dutch Governor Minuit bought the isl- and of Manhattan in 1626 for sixty gild- ers. Lord Baltimores company pur- chased land for cloth, tools, and trink- ets ; the Swedes obtained the site of Christiana for a kettle; Roger Williams. bought the island of Rhode Island for forty fathoms of white beads; and New Haven was sold to the whites in 1638 for twelve coats of English cloth, twelve alchemy spoons, twelve hoes, twelve hatch- ets, twelve porringers, twenty-four knives, and twenty-four cases of French knives and spoons. Many other such purchases. will be found recorded by Dr. Ellis. And though the price paid might often seem ludicrously small, yet we must remember that a knife or a hatchet was really worth more to an Indian than many square miles of wild land; while even the beads were a substitute for wampum, or wom- pom, which was their circulating medium in dealing with each other and with the whites, and was worth in 1660 five shil- lings a fathom. So far as the mere bargaining went, the~ Indians were not individually the suffer- ers in the early days; but we must remem- ber that behind all these transactions there. often lay a theory which was as merciless. THE HUNDRED YEARS WAR. 21 as that quoted in a previous paper from the Spanish Requisition, and which would, if logically carried out, have made all these bargainings quite suporfinous. Increase Mather begins his history of King Philips War with this phrase, That the Heathen People amongst whom we live, and whose Land the Lord God of our Fathers hath given to us for a right- ful Possession; and it was this attitude of hostile superiority that gave the sting to all the relations of the two races. If a quarrel rose, it was apt to be the white mans fault; and after it had arisen, even the humaner Englisl~men usually sided with their race, as when the peaceful Ply- mouth men went to war in defense of the Weymouth reprobates. This fact, and the vague consciousness that an irresistible pressure was displacing them, caused most of the early Indian outbreaks. And when hostilities had once arisen, it was very rare for a white man of English birth to be found fighting against his own people, al- though it grew more and more common to find Indians on both sides. As time went on, each party learned from the other. In the early explorations, as of Champlain and Smith, we see the Indians terrified by their first sight of fire- arms, but soon becoming skilled in the use of them. The King, with fortie Bowmen to guard me, says Captain John Smith, in 1608, entreated me to discharge my Pis- toll, which they there presented to me, with a mark at sixscore to strike therewith; but to spoil the practise I broke the cocke, whereat they were much discontented. Writing more than twenty years later, in 1631, he says of the Virginia settlers, The loving Salvages their kinde friends they trained up so well to shoot in a Peace [fowling - piece] to hunt and kill them fowle, they became more expert than our own countrymen. La Hontan, writing in 1703, says of the successors of those against whom Champlain had first used fire-arms, The Strength of the Iroquese lies in engaging with Fire Arms in a For- rest, for they shoot very dexterously. They learned also to make more skillful fortifications, and to keep a regular watch at night, which in the time of the early explorers they omitted. The same La Hontan says of the Iroquois, They are as negligent in the night-time as they are vigilant in the day. But it is equally true that the English colonists learned much in the way of forest warfare from the Indians. The French carried their imitation so far that they often disguised themselves to re- semble their allies, with paint, feathers, and all; it was sometimes impossible to tell in an attacking party which warriors were French and which were Indians. Without often going so far as this, the English colonists still modified their tac- tics. At first they seemed almost irresisti- ble because of their armor and weapons. In the very first year of the Plymouth set- tlement, when report was brought that their friend Massasoit had been attacked by the Narragansetts, and a friendly In- dian had been killed, the colony sent ten armed men, including Miles Standish, to the Indian town of Namasket (now Mid- dleborough) to rescue or revenge their friend; and they succeeded in their enter- prise, surrounding the chiefs house, and frightening every one in a large Indian village by two discharges of their muskets. But the heavy armor gradually proved a doubtful advantage against a stealthy and light-footed foe. In spite of the su- perior physical strength of the English- man, he could not travel long distances through the woods or along the sands without lightening his weight. He learn- ed also to fight from behind a tree, to fol- low a trail, to cover his body with hem- lock boughs for disguise when scouting. Captain Church states in his own narra- tive that he learned from his Indian sol- diers to march his men thin and scatter- ing through the woods; that the English had previously, according to the Indians kept in a heap together, so that it was as easy to hit them as to hit a house. Even the advantage of fire-arms involved the risk of being without ammunition, so that the Rhode Island colony, by the code of laws adopted in 1647, required that ev- ery man between seventeen and seventy should have a bow with four arrows and exercise with them; and that each father should furnish every son from seven to seventeen years old with a bow, two ar- rows, and shafts, and should bring them up to shooting. If this statute was violated a fine was imposed, which the father must pay for the son, the master for the servant, deducting it in the latter case from his wages. Less satisfactory was the change by which the taking of scalps came to be a recognized part of colonial warfare. Han- nah Dustin, who escaped from Indian cap- 22 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. tivity in 1698, took ten scalps with her own hand, and was paid for them. Cap- tain Church, undertaking his expedition against the Eastern Indians, in 1705, after the Deerfield massacre, announced that he had not hitherto permitted the scalping of Canada men, but should thenceforth allow it. In 1722, when the Massachusetts colony sent an expedition against the vil- lage of praying Indians, founded by Father Rasle, they offered for each scalp a bounty of 15, afterward increased to 100; and this inhumanity was so far carried out that the French priest himself was one of the victims. Jeremiah Buni- stead, of Boston, made this entry in his al- manac in the same year. Aug. 22, 28 Indian scalps brought to Boston, one of which was Bombazens [an Indian chief] and one fryer Railes. Two years after, the celebrated but inappropriately named Captain Lovewell, the foremost Indian fighter of his region, came upon ten Indi- ans asleep round a pond; he and his men killed and scalped them all, and entered Dover, New Hampshire, bearing the ten scalps stretched on hoops and elevated on poles. After receiving an ovation in Dover they went by water to Boston, and were paid a thousand pounds for their scalps. Yet Lovewells party was always accompanied by a chaplain, and had prayers every morning and evening. The most painful aspect of the whole practice lies in the fact that it was not con- fined to those actually engaged in fight- ing, but that the colonial authorities actu- ally established a tariff of prices for scalps, including even non-combatantsso much for a mans, so much for a woman 5, SO much for a childs. Dr. Ellis has lately pointed out the striking circumstance that whereas William Penn declared the per- son of an Indian to be sacred, his grand- son in 1764 offered $134 for the scalp of an Indian man, $130 for that of a boy under ten, and $50 for that of a woman or girl. The habit doubtless began in the fury of retaliation, and was continued in order to conciliate Indian allies; and when boun- ties were offered to them, the white vol- unteers naturally claimed a share. But there is no doubt that Puritan theology helped the adoption of the practice. It was partly because the Indian was held to be something worse than a beast that he was treated as being at least a beast. The truth was that he was viewed as a fiend, and there could not be much scruple about using inhumanities against a demon. Cot- ton Mather calls Satan the old landlord of the American wilderness, and says in his Magnalia: These Parts were then cover- ed with Nations of Barbarous Indians and Infidels, in whom the Prince of the Power of the Air did work as a Spirit; nor could it be expected that Nations of Wretches whose whole religion was the most Ex- plicit sort of Devil-Worship should not be acted by the Devil to engage in some ear- ly and bloody Action for the Extinction of a Plantation so contrary to his Interests as that of New England was. Before the French influence began to be felt there was very little union on the part of the Indians, and each colony adjusted its own relations with them. At the time of the frightful Indian massacre in the Virginia colony (March 22, 1622), when 347 men, women, and children were mur- dered, the Plymouth colony was living in entire peace with its savage neighbors. We have found the Indians, wrote Gov- ernor Winslow, very faithful to their covenants of peace with us, very loving and willing to pleasure us. We go with them in some cases fifty miles into the country, and walk as safely and peaceably in the woods as in the highways of Eng- land. The treaty with Massasoit lasted for more than fifty years, and the first bloodshed between the Plymouth men and the Indians was incurred in the protection of the colony of Weymouth, which had brought trouble on itself in 1623. The Con- necticut settlements had far more difficul- ty with the Indians than those in Massa- chusetts, but the severe punishment inflict- ed on the Pequots in 1637 quieted the sav- ages for a long time. In that fight a village of seventy wigwanis was destroyed by a force of ninety white men and sever- al hundred friendly Indians; and Captain Underhill, the second in command, has left a quaint delineation of the attack. There was a period resembling peace in the Eastern colonies for nearly forty years after the Pequot war, while in Virginia there were renewed massacres in 1644 and 1656. But the first organized Indian out- break began with the conspiracy of King Philip in 1675, although the seeds had been sown before that chief succeeded to power in 1662. In that year Wamsutta, or Alexander, Philips brotherboth being sons of Massasoithaving fallen under some suspicion, was either compelled or persuaded by Major Josiah Winslow, aft- THE HUNDRED YEARS WAR. 23 erward the first native-born Governor of Plymouth, to visit that settlement. The Indian came with his whole train of war- riors and women, including his queen, the celebrated squaw sachem Weetamo, and they staid at Winslows house. Here the chief fell ill. The day was very hot, and though Winslow offered his horse to the chief, it was refused, because there was none for his squaw or the other women. He was sent home because of illness, and died before he got half-way home. This is the story as told by Hubbard, but not altogether confirmed by other authorities. If true, it is interesting as confirming the theory of that careful student, Mr. Lucien Carr, that the early position of women among the Indians was higher than has been generally believed. It is pretty cer- tain, at any rate, that Alexanders widow Weetamo believed her husband to have been poisoned by the English, and she DEATH OF KING PHILIP 24 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. ultimately sided with Philip when the war broke out, and apparently led him and other Indians to the same view as to the poisoning. It is evident that from the time of Philips accession in 1662, whatev- er may have been his professions, his mind was turned more and more against the English. It is now doubted whether the war known as King Philips War was the re- sult of such deliberate and organized ac- tion as was formerly supposed, but about the formidable strength of the outbreak there can be no question. It began in June, 1675; Philip was killed August 12, 1676, and the war was prolonged at the eastward for nearly two years after his death. Ten or twelve Puritan towns were utterly destroyed, many more damaged, and five or six hundred men were killed or missing. The war cost the colonists 100,000, and the Plymouth colony was leftunder a debt exceeding the whole valua- tion of its propertya debt ultimately paid, both principal and interest. On the other hand, the war tested and cemented the league founded in 1643 between four colo- niesMassachusetts, Plymouth, New Ha- ven, and Connecticutagainst the Indians and Dutch, while this prepared the way more and more for the extensive combina- tions that came after. In this early war, as the Indians had no French allies, so the English had few Indian allies; and it was less complex than the later contests, and so far less formidable. But it was the first real experience on the part of the Eastern colo- nists of all the peculiar horrors of Indian warfarethe stealthy approach, the abused hospitality, the early morning assault, the maimed cattle, tortured prisoners, slain in- fants. All the terrors that now attach to a frontier attack of Apaches or Comanches belonged to the daily life of settlers in New En~land and Virginia for many years, with one vast deduction, arising from the total absence in those early days of any personal violence or insult to wo- men. By the general agreement of wit- nesses from all nations, including the wo- men captives themselves, this crowning crime was then wholly absent. The once famous white woman, Mary Jemison, who was taken prisoner by the Senecas at ten years old in 1743who lived in that tribe all her life, survived two Indian husbands, and at last died at ninetyal- ways testified that she had never received an insult from an Indian, and had never known of a captive~ s receiving any, while she had known few instances in the tribe of conjugal immorality, although she lived to see it demoralized and ruined by strong drink. The English colonists seem never to have inflicted on the Indians any cruelty resulting from sensual vices, but of bar- barity of another kind there was plenty, for it was a cruel age. When the Narra- gansett fort was taken by the English, December 19, 1675, the wigwams within the fort were all set on fire, against the earnest entreaty of Captain Church; and it was thought that more than one-half the English losswhich amounted to several hundred might have been saved had there been any shelter for their own wounded on that cold night. This, how- ever, was a question of military necessity; but the true spirit of the age was seen in the punishments inflicted after the war was over. The heads of Philips chief followers were cut off, though Captain Church, their captor, had promised to spare their lives; and Philip himself was be- headed and quartered by Churchs order, since he was regarded, curiously enough, as a rebel against Charles II., and this was the state punishment for treason. An- other avowed reason was, that as he had caused many an Englishmans body to lye unburied, not one of his bones should be placed under-ground. The head was set upon a pole in Plymouth, where it re- mained for more than twenty-four years. Yet when we remember that the heads of alleged traitors were exposed in London at Temple Bar for nearly a century longer till 1772 at leastit is unjust to infer from this course any such fiendish cruelty as it would now imply. It is necessary to extend the same charity, however hard it may be, to the selling of Philips wife and little son into slavery at the Bermu- das; and here, as has been seen, the clergy were consulted and the Old Testament called into requisition. While these events were passing in the Eastern settlements there were Indian outbreaks in Virginia, resulting in war among the white settlers themselves. The colony was, for various reasons, discontent- ed; it was greatly oppressed, and a series of Indian murders brought the troubles to a climax. The policy pursued against the Indians was severe, and yet there was no proper protection afforded by the govern- ment; war was declared against them in THE HUNDRED YEARS WAR. 25 1676, and then the forces sent out were sud- Dutch did to the English colonists, though denly disbanded bythe Governor, Berkeley. unintentionally, a service so great that the At last there was a popular rebellion, which whole issue of the prolonged war may included almost all the civil and military have turned upon it, because of the close officers of the colony, and the rebellious friendship they established with the Five partyput Nathaniel Bacon, Jun., a recently Nations, commonly called the Iroquois. arrived but very popular planter, at their head. He marched with five hundred men against the Indians, but was proclaim- a traitor by the Governor, whom Bacon proclaimed a traitor in return. The war with the savages became by degrees quite secondary to the internal contests among the English, in the course of which Bacon took and burned Jamestown, beginning, it is said, with his own house; but he died soon after, the insurrection was suppress- ed, and the Indians were finally quieted by a treaty. Into all the Indian wars after King Philips death two nationalities besides the Indian and English entered in an impor- tant way. These were the Dutch and the IFrench. It was the Dutch who, soon aft- er 1614, first sold fire-arms to the Indians in defiance of their own laws, and by this means greatly increased the horrors of the Indian warfare. On the other hand, the These tribes, the Cayngas, Mohawks, Onei- das, Onondagas, and Senecas-afterward joined by the Tuscarorasheld the key to the continent. Occupying the greater part of what is now the State of New York, they virtually ruled the country from the Atlantic to the Mississippi, and from the Great Lakes to the Savannah River. They were from the first treated with great consideration by the Dutch, and they remained, with brief intervals of war, their firm friends. One war, indeed, there was under the injudicious manage- ment of Governor Kieft, lasting from 1640 to 1643; and this came near involving the English colonies, while it caused the death of 1600 Indians, first or last, 700 of these being massacred under the borrowed Pu- ritan leader Captain Underhill. But this made no permanent interruption to the alliance between the Iroquois and the Dutch. ROBERT cAYELIER, SIEUR DE LA SALLE. 26 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. When the New Netherlands yielded to the English, the same alliance was retain- ed, and to this we probably owe the preser- vation of the colonies, their union against England, and the very existence of the present American nation. Yet the first English Governor, Colden, has left on rec- ord the complaint of an Indian chief, who said that they very soon felt the differ- ence between the two alliances. When the Dutch held this country, he said, we lay in their houses, but the English have always made ns lie out-of-doors. But if the Dutch were thus an impor tant factor in the Indian wars, the French became almost the controlling influence on the other side. Except for the strip of English colonies along the sea-shore, the North American continent north of Mexi- co was French. This was not the result of accident or of the greater energy of that nation, but of a systematic policy, beginning with Champlain, and never abandoned by his successors. This plan was as admirably stated by Parkman, to influence Indian counsels, to hold the balance of power between adverse tribes to envelop in the net-work of French GOVERNOR ANDROS AND THE BOSTON PEOrLE. THE HUNDRED YEARS WAR. power and diplomacy the remotest hordes of the wilderness. With this was com- bined a love of exploring so great that it was hard to say which assisted the most in spreading their dominionreligion, the love of adventure, diplomatic skill, or inil- itary talent. These between them gave the interior of the continent to the French. One of the New York Governors wrote home that if the French were to hold all that they had discovered, England would not have a hundred miles from the sea anywhere. France had early occupied Acadia, Can- ada, the St. Lawrence, on the north. Mar- quette rediscovered the Mississippi, and La Salle traced it, though Alvar Nuflez had crossed it, and De Soto had been buried be- neath it. A Frenchman first crossed the Rocky Mountains; the French settled the Mississippi Valley in 1699, and Mobile in 1702. The great Western valleys are still full of French names, and for every one left, two or three have been blotted out. The English maps down to the year 1763 give the name New France not to Cana- da only, but to the Ohio and Mississippi valleys. New France was vast; New Eng- land was a narrow strip along the shore. But there was a yet greater difference in the tenure by which the two nations held their nominal settlements. The French held theirs with the aid of a vast system of paid officials, priests, generals, and gov- ernors; the English kept theirs for them- selves with the aid of something in the form of chartered authority or deputed power. Moreover, the French retained theirs by a chain of forts and a net-work of trading posts; the English held theirs by sober agriculture. In the end the spade and axe proved mightier than the sword. What postponed the triumph was that the French, not the English, had won the hearts of the Indians. This subject has been considered in a previous paper, and need be only briefly mentioned here; but it should not be whol- ly passed by. To the Indian, the French- man was a daring swordsman, a gay cava- lier, a dashing leader, and the most charm- ing of companions; the Englishman was a plodding and sordid agriculturist. The stoic of the woods saw men infinitely his superiors in all knowledge and in the re- finements of life cheerfully accepting his way of living, and submitting with appar- ent relish to his whole way of existence. Charlevoix sums it all up admirably: The savages did not become French: the Frenchmen became savages. To the sav- age, at least, the alliance was inestimable. What saved the English colonies was the fact that it was not quite universal. It failed to reach the most advanced, the most powerful, and the most central race of savagesthe Iroquois. It took the French a great many years to outgrow the attitude of hostility to this race which began with the attack of Champlain and a few Frenchmen on an Iroquois fort. Baron La Hontan, one of the few French- men who were not also good Catholics, attributes this mainly to the influence of the priests. He says in the preface to the English translation of his letters (1703) Notwithstanding the veneration I have for the clergy, I impute to them all the mischief the Iroquese have done to the French colonies in the course of a war that would never have been undertaken if it had not been for the counsels of those pious churchmen. But whatever the cause, the fact was of vital importance, and proved to be, as has been already said, the turning-point of the whole contro- versy. These being the general features of the French and Indian warfare, it remains only to consider briefly its successive stages. It took the form of a series of out- breaks, most of which were so far con- nected with public affairs in Europe that their very names often record the succes- sive rulers under whose nominal authori- ty they were waged. The first, known a~ King Williams War, and sometimes a~ St. Castins War, began in 1688, ten years after the close of King Philips War, while France and England were still at. peace. In April of the next year came the news that William of Orange had land- ed in England, and this change in the Eng- lish dynasty was an important argument in the hands of the French, who insisted on regarding the colonists not as loyal Eng- lishmen, but as rebels against their lawful king, James II. In reality the American collision had been in preparation for years. About the year 1685, wrote the English visitor Edward Randolph, the French of Canada encroached upon the lands of the subjects of the crown of England, build- ing forts upon the heads of their great riv- ers, and extending their bounds, disturbed the inhabitants. On the other hand, it must be remembered that England claim- ed the present territory of New Brunswick 28 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. and Nova Scotia, and the provincial char- just been brought together under the Gov- ter of Massachusetts covered those re- ernorship of a man greatly disliked and gions. Thus each nationality seemed to distrusted, Sir Edmund Andros. In Au- the other to be trying to encroach, and gust this official, then newly placed in each professed to be acting on the defen- power, visited the Five Nations at Albany sive. With this purpose the French di- to secure their friendliness. During his ~ectly encouraged Indian outbreaks. We absence there were rumors of Indian out- uow know, from the dispatches of Denon- breaks at the East, and though he took ville, the French Governor of Canada, that steps to suppress them, yet nobody trusted he claimed as his own merit the successes him. The friendly Indians declared that ~f the Indians; and Champigny wrote that the Governor was a rogue, and had hired he himself had supplied them with gun- the Indians to kill the English, and that powder, and that the Indians of the Chris- the Mohawks were to seize Boston in the tian villages near Quebec had taken the spring. This rumor helped the revolt of leading part. the people against Andros; and after his Unluckily several of the provinces had overthrow the garrisons at the eastward SIR WILLIAM rErrERRELL.[FROM THE PAINTING IN THE ESSEX INSTITUTE.] THE HUNDRED YEARS WAR. 29 i69~ 41 /4 L/J2 * FAC-SIMILE FROM MS. OF FATHER RASLE S ABENAKI GLOSSARY. were broken up, and the savage assaults recommenced. Cocheco, now Dover, New Hampshire, was destroyed; Pemaquid, a fort with seven or eight cannon, was reg- ularly besieged by a hundred Christian Indians under their priest, P~re Thury, who urged on the attack, but would not let the English be scalped or tortured. From the beginning the movements of the French and Indians were not impul- sive outbreaks, as heretofore, but were di- rected by a trained soldier of fifty years ex- perience, the Marquis de Frontenac. There were no soldiers of experience among the colonists, and they fought like peasants against a regular army. Yet when, after a terrible Indian massacre at Schenectady, a Congress of delegates was held at New York in May, 1690, they planned with stubborn courage to organize expeditions against Quebec and Montreal. Winthrop of Connecticut was to take 1\liontreal by a land expedition, and Sir William Phips, of Massachusettsa rough sailor who had captured Port Royalwas sent by water with more than two thousand men against 4~uebec, an almost impregnable fortress, manned by nearly three thousand. Both enterprises failed, and the Baron La Hontan wrote of Phips in the English edition of his lettersthat he could not have done more than he did had he been engaged by the French to stand still with his hands in his pockets. The colonies were impover- ished by these hopeless efforts, and the Puritans attributed their failure to the frown of God. The Indians made fresh attacks at Pentucket (Haverhill) and else- where; but the Peace of Ryswick (Septem- ber 20, 1697) stopped the war for a time, and provided that the American bound- aries of France and England should re- main the same. But a few years brought new hostilities (May 4, 1702), when England declared war against France and Spain. This was called in Europe The War of the Span- ish Succession but in America simply Queen Annes War. The Five Nations were now strictly neutral, so that New York was spared, and the force of the war fell on the New England settlements. The Eastern Indians promised equal neu- trality, and one of their chiefs said, The sun is not more distant from the earth than our thoughts from war. But they joined in the war just the same, and the Deerfield (Massachusetts) massacre, with the captivity of Rev. John Williams, roused the terror of all the colonists. Traces of that attack in the form of toma- hawk strokes upon doors are still to be seen in Deerfield. The Governor of Mas- sachusetts was distrusted; he tried in vain to take the small fort of Port Royal in Nova Scotia, the hornets nest, as it was called; but it was finally taken in 1710, and its name was changed to Annap- olis Royal, afterward Annapolis, in honor of the Queen. The year after, a great expedition was sent from England by St. John, after- ward Lord Bolingbroke, to effect the con- quest of Canada. Fifteen ships of war with five regiments of Marlboroughs vet- erans reached Boston in June, 1711. Pro- vincial troops went from New York and New Jersey as well as New England, and there were eight hundred Iroquois war- riors. St. John wrote, I believe you may depend upon our being, at this time, the masters of all North America. On the contrary, they did not become masters of an inch of ground; the expedition ut- terly failed, mainly through the incompe- tency of the commander, Admiral Sir Ho- * Translation: Having been for a year among the savages, I begin to arrange in order in the ~nanner of a dictionary the words that I learn. 30 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. venden Walker; eight ships were wreck- ed, 884 men were drowned, and fleet and land forces retreated. In April, 1713, the war nominally closed with the Peace of Utrecht, which gave to England Hudson Bay, Newfoundland, and Acadiathe last so poorly defined as to lead to much trou- ble at a later day. But in Maine the Indian disturbances still went on. New forts were built by the colonists, and there were new attacks by the Abenaki Indians. Among these the most conspicuous figure was for a quarter of a century the Jesuit priest Pare Rasle, who had collected a village of praying Indians at Norridgewock, and had trained a band of forty young In- dians to assist, wearing cassock and sur- plice, in the services of the Church. There is in the Harvard College Library a MS. glossary of the Abenaki language in his handwriting. His whole career was one of picturesque self-devotion; but he be- longed emphatically to the Church mili- tant, and was in constant communication with the French Governor of Canada. His settlement was the head-quarters for all attacks upon the English colo~nists, and was finally broken up and annihilated by them on August 23, 1724. With him disappeared the Jesu- it missions in New England, though there were scattering hostilities some time longer. On December 15, 1725, the Abe- naki chiefs signed at Boston a treaty of peace, which is still preserved in the Massachusetts- archives, and which was long maintained. Nineteen years of compara- tive peace now followed, by far- the longest interval during the contest of a century. In 1744 came another war between Eng- land and France, known in Eu- rope as the War of the Austri- an Succession, but in America. as King Georges War, or as- Governor Shirleys War. Its- chief event was that which was- the great military surprise of that century, both at home and abroadthe capture of Louis- burg in 1745. Hawthorne, in one of his early papers, has given a most graphic picture of the whole occurrence. A fleet sailed from Boston under Sir William Pepperrell, who led three thousand men to attack a stronghold which had been called the Gibraltar of America, and whose forti- fications had cost five million dollars. Then walls were twenty or thirty feet high, and forty feet thick; they were surrounded by a ditch eighty feet wide, and defended by two hundred and forty-three pieces of ar- tillery, against which the assailants had eighteen cannon and three mortars. It. seemed an enterprise as hopeless as that. of Sir William Phips against Quebec, and yet it succeeded. To the amazement of all, the fortress surrendered after a siege of six weeks. Parkman calls this event the result of mere audacity and hard- ihood, backed by the rarest good luck. Voltaire, on the other hand, in his Si~cle de Louis XV., ranks it among the great- est occurrences of the age. The pious Puritans believed it a judgment of God upon the Roman Catholics, and held with delight a Protestant service in the chap- el of the fort. When they returned they brought with them an iron cross from the chapel, and it now stands above the main entrance to the Harvard College library. But three years after (1748) the Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle provided for the LOUIS JOSEPH MONTcALM. THE HUNDRED YEARS WAR. 31 mutual restoration of all conquests, and iLouisburg was given back to the French. Every step in this prolonged war taught the colonists the need of uniting. All the New England colonies had been represent- ed at Louisburg by men, and New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania by money. New hostilities taking place in Nova Sco- tia and along the Ohio, what is called the Old French War, or French and In- dian War, began, and at its very outset a convention of delegates met in Al- bany, coming from New England, New York, Pennsylvania, and Ma- ryland. It was called by advice of the British ministry, and a commit- tee of one from each colony was ap- pointed to consider a plan of union. No successful plan followed, and a sarcastic Mohawk chief said to the colonists: You desired us to open our minds and hearts to you. Look at the French; they are men; they are fortifying everywhere. But, we are ashamed to say it, you are like women, without any fortifica- tions. It is but one step from Canada hither, and the French may easily come and turn you out-of- doors. For the eight years following it seemed more than likely that the description would be fulfilled. The French kept resolutely at work, building forts and establishing gar- risons, until they had a chain of sixty that reached from Quebec to New Orleans. Vainly did the Gov- ernor of Virginia send Washing- ton, then a youth of twenty-one, to remonstrate with the French offi- cers in 1753; he traversed the un- broken forests and crossed freezing rivers on rafts of ice; but to no result, except that it all contributed to the training of the future general. The English colo- nists achieved some easy successesas in dispersing and removing the so - called neutral French in Acadia a people whose neutrality, though guaranteed by treaty, did not prevent them from con- stantly recruiting the enemys forces, and who were as inconvenient for neighbors as they are now picturesque in history. But when Braddock came with an army of English veterans to lead the colonial force he was ignominiously defeated, near IPittsburgh, Pennsylvania (July 9, 1755), and Washington and the provincial troops had to cover his retreat. All along the line of the colonies the Indian at- tacks only grew more terrible, the French telling them that the time had now come to drive the English from the soil. In Virginia, Washington wrote that the sup- plicating tears of women and the moving petitions of the men melted him with dead- ly sorrow. Farther north, the French General Montcalm took fort after fort with apparent ease, allowing the garri- sons, as at Fort William Henry, to be niurdered by his Indians. For Gods sake, wrote the officer in command at Albany, to the Governor of Massachusetts exert yourself to save a province! New York itself may fall. Save a country! Pre- vent the downfall of the British govern- ment ! Dr. Jeremy Belkuapwhom Bry- ant declares to have been the first person who made American history attractive thus summed up the gloomy situation in the spring of 1757: The great expense, the frequent disappointments, the loss of men, of forts, of stores, was very discour- aging. The enemys country was filled with prisoners and scalps, private plun- der and public stores, and provisions JAMES WOLFE. 32 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. which our people, as beasts of burden, had conveyed to them. These reflections were the dismal accompaniment of the winter. What turned the scale was the energy of the new Prime Minister, William Pitt. Under his inspiration the colonies raised men like magic, we are told, the home government furnishing arms, equipments, and supplies; the colonies organizing, uni- forming, and paying the men, with a pros- pect of re-imbursement. Events followed in quick succession. Abercrombie failed at Ticonderoga, but Bradstreet took Fort Frontenac; Prideaux took Niagara; Louis- burg, Crown Point, and even Ticonderoga itself fell. Quebec was taken in 1759, Wolfe, the victor, and Montcalm, the de- feated, dying alike almost in the hour when the battle was decided. Montreal soon fol- lowed; and in 1763 the Peace of Paris sur- rendered Canada to the English, with near- ly all the French possessions east of the Mississippi, except a few insignificant fish- ing stations. France had already given up to Spain all her claims west of the Missis- sippi, and her brilliant career as an Ameri- can power was over. With her the Indian tribes were also quelled, except that the brief conspiracy of Pontiac came and went like the last flicker of an expiring candle;. then the flame went out, and the Hundred Years War was at an end. A CASTLE IN SPAIN. CHAPTER IX. IN WHICH THE PRIEST SEES A VISION AND GOES IN SEARCH OF A BREAKFAST. THE priest placed the lady on the ground near the trunk of a fallen tree, against which she might lean, and then, turning away, he drew a clasp-knife from his pocket, and began cutting armfuls of brush-wood and twigs of shrubs. These he carried into the tower, and spread over the floor with the skill of a practiced hand, while the lady sat where he had left her, with her head bowed down, taking no no- tice of anything, and seeming like one who was quite prostrated in mind as well as in body. When at last the priests task was ended he went to her and carried her in- side the tower. Here, said he, is some brush-wood. Im sorry that there isnt anything better, but better is a stone couch with liberty, than a bed of down with captivity. Dont be worried or frightened. If there is any danger, Ill sound the alarm in Zion, and get you off in time. The lady murmured some inarticulate words, and the priest then left her and went outside. He there spent some little time in gathering some brush for himself, which he spread upon the grass, under the castle wall; after which he seated himself upon it, and pulling out his pipe, he filled it and began to smoke. Hitherto he had been too much preoc- cupied to pay any very close attention to the world around; but now, as he sat there, he became aware of sounds which arose apparently from the interior of the great castle on the other side of the chasm. The sounds did not startle him in the least, however, and he was evidently prepared for something of this sort. Between this. tower and the great castle there intervened the deep chasm; and though no doubt the two structures had once been connected, yet all connection had long since been de- stroyed, and now there was no visible way of passing from the one to the other. The priest, therefore, felt as secure as though he were miles away, and listened serenely to the noises. There came to his ears sounds of singing, and laughter, and revelry, with shouts and cries that rang out upon the air of night. There seemed to be no small stir in the cas- tle, as though a multitude had gathered there, and had given themselves up secure- ly to general merriment. But all this. troubled not the priest one whit, for he calmly finished his pipe, and then laying it down, he disposed his limbs in a com- fortable position, still keeping a sitting posture, and in this attitude he fell asleep,. and slept the sleep of the just. Very early on the following morning our good priest opened his eyes, and the first object that they rested upon was the lady, who stood there full before him, and. greeted him with a gentle smile. The priest had not seen her very well on the previous evening, and now as he saw her face in full daylight it seemed differ- ent from that which had met his view un- der the moonbeams. The lady was of slender form, a trifle over the middle height, and of marked dignity of bearing. Her face was perfectly beautiful in the

32 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. which our people, as beasts of burden, had conveyed to them. These reflections were the dismal accompaniment of the winter. What turned the scale was the energy of the new Prime Minister, William Pitt. Under his inspiration the colonies raised men like magic, we are told, the home government furnishing arms, equipments, and supplies; the colonies organizing, uni- forming, and paying the men, with a pros- pect of re-imbursement. Events followed in quick succession. Abercrombie failed at Ticonderoga, but Bradstreet took Fort Frontenac; Prideaux took Niagara; Louis- burg, Crown Point, and even Ticonderoga itself fell. Quebec was taken in 1759, Wolfe, the victor, and Montcalm, the de- feated, dying alike almost in the hour when the battle was decided. Montreal soon fol- lowed; and in 1763 the Peace of Paris sur- rendered Canada to the English, with near- ly all the French possessions east of the Mississippi, except a few insignificant fish- ing stations. France had already given up to Spain all her claims west of the Missis- sippi, and her brilliant career as an Ameri- can power was over. With her the Indian tribes were also quelled, except that the brief conspiracy of Pontiac came and went like the last flicker of an expiring candle;. then the flame went out, and the Hundred Years War was at an end. A CASTLE IN SPAIN. CHAPTER IX. IN WHICH THE PRIEST SEES A VISION AND GOES IN SEARCH OF A BREAKFAST. THE priest placed the lady on the ground near the trunk of a fallen tree, against which she might lean, and then, turning away, he drew a clasp-knife from his pocket, and began cutting armfuls of brush-wood and twigs of shrubs. These he carried into the tower, and spread over the floor with the skill of a practiced hand, while the lady sat where he had left her, with her head bowed down, taking no no- tice of anything, and seeming like one who was quite prostrated in mind as well as in body. When at last the priests task was ended he went to her and carried her in- side the tower. Here, said he, is some brush-wood. Im sorry that there isnt anything better, but better is a stone couch with liberty, than a bed of down with captivity. Dont be worried or frightened. If there is any danger, Ill sound the alarm in Zion, and get you off in time. The lady murmured some inarticulate words, and the priest then left her and went outside. He there spent some little time in gathering some brush for himself, which he spread upon the grass, under the castle wall; after which he seated himself upon it, and pulling out his pipe, he filled it and began to smoke. Hitherto he had been too much preoc- cupied to pay any very close attention to the world around; but now, as he sat there, he became aware of sounds which arose apparently from the interior of the great castle on the other side of the chasm. The sounds did not startle him in the least, however, and he was evidently prepared for something of this sort. Between this. tower and the great castle there intervened the deep chasm; and though no doubt the two structures had once been connected, yet all connection had long since been de- stroyed, and now there was no visible way of passing from the one to the other. The priest, therefore, felt as secure as though he were miles away, and listened serenely to the noises. There came to his ears sounds of singing, and laughter, and revelry, with shouts and cries that rang out upon the air of night. There seemed to be no small stir in the cas- tle, as though a multitude had gathered there, and had given themselves up secure- ly to general merriment. But all this. troubled not the priest one whit, for he calmly finished his pipe, and then laying it down, he disposed his limbs in a com- fortable position, still keeping a sitting posture, and in this attitude he fell asleep,. and slept the sleep of the just. Very early on the following morning our good priest opened his eyes, and the first object that they rested upon was the lady, who stood there full before him, and. greeted him with a gentle smile. The priest had not seen her very well on the previous evening, and now as he saw her face in full daylight it seemed differ- ent from that which had met his view un- der the moonbeams. The lady was of slender form, a trifle over the middle height, and of marked dignity of bearing. Her face was perfectly beautiful in the A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 33 outline of its features, but this was as no- thing when compared with the refined and exquisite grace, the perfect breeding, the quick intelligence, and the womanly ten- derness that were all expressed in those noble lineaments. It was a face full of calm self-possession, and gave indications of a great and gracious nature, which could be at once loving and brave, and tender and true. Her hair, which was very luxuriant, was closely bound up in dark auburn masses; her lips were full of sweet sensitiveness; and thus she stood looking at him with dark hazel eyes that seemed to glow with feeling and intelli- gence, till the good priest thought that never in all his life had he seen anything half so fair. In fact, so overcome was he that he sat staring at her for some time without one word, and without giving any response whatever to the pleasant words of greetin~, which she spoke. Im \tery sorry indeed, said she, as the priest still stared in silence at her that I was such a trouble to you, after all youryour kindness; but the fact is, I was so wretchedly fati~ ued that I was scarcely responsible for my actions. It was too selfish in me; but now I mean to make amends, and help you in every pos- sible way. Would you like me to do any- thing? Shant I get breakfast ? She spoke these words with a smile, in which, however, there was not a little sad- ness. There was nothing in the words themselves beyond that painful considera- tion for others and forgetfulness of self which the priest had observed in her the night before; but the voice was a wonder- ful onea round, full contralto, yet soft and low, with a tremulous under - tone that fell with a thrill upon his ear. The priest started up. Breakfast! said he, with a short laugh. That is the very thing I was thinking of myself. I consider that an all-important subject. It is certainly a serious matter, said she. And you propose to get it for me ? Yes, said she, with a faint smile, if I can. THE PRIEST PLACED THE LADY ON THE GROUND NEAR THE TRUNK OF A FALLEN TREE. 34 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. I really wish you would, continued But you must eat it, so as to get back the priest, for it would save me from a your strength. great responsibility; for if you dont get it And what will you do ? for me, hang me if I know where I can Oh, Im an old hand at fasting. Its ~et any for myself. my business. What do you mean ? said she. As priest, I suppose ? said the lady, Have we nothing to eat ? with a smile that was brighter, or rather Well, not so bad as that. I have a bit less mournful, than any which the priest of a sandwich, I believe, and you may had thus far seen on her melancholy face. have it. Yes, as priest, said the other, dryly. With this he produced from his pocket And now will you take it ? a tin sandwich case and offered it to her. Do you ever think about yourself? She refused. asked the lady, in a low voice, in which If that is the last that you have, said the thrill was more perceptible than usual. she, I can wait. About myself? Oh yes, said he; I IM THE CURE OF SANTA CRUZ.[5EE PAGE 37.] A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 35 never think of anything else. My motto is to take care of Number One. Its only for my own sake that Im anxious for you to eat; but if you wont take it all, why, perhaps youll consent to take half. You wont refuse to share with me and take half ? By no means. I shant object to take the half, if you choose. ~Yell, said he, thats fair; so lets begin our breakfast. Would you mind sitting on that tree over there ? He led the way to the fallen tree al- ready mentioned, and the two seated them- selves. He then opened the tin case and drew forth a few sandwiches. From these they made their frugal repast. You must cultivate patience, said the priest as he ate. I know exactly whats in your mind. You want to be off. But, according to the proverb, the more haste the less speed. Tell mewould you rath- er be here or in the hands of the Carlists ? Here. Well, Im afraid if we move incau- tiously we may be seen and captured by the Carlists. So before we start I propose to reconnoitre. Will you remain here ? I will do whatever you direct. You are very good and sensible. Thanks. But where do you propose to go? Im going to visit the castle over there. The castle? Yes. It is full of people. That they are Carlists I havent a doubt. I mean to visit them, and find out how the land lies. The lady sat in thoughtful silence for some time. I am afraid, said she, that you are incurring a terrible risk. You are now out of danger; why put yourself into it? Why may we not fly now, or to - night? I can fast for any length of time. The danger is, said the priest, that we may both fall into the hands of the very men we wish to avoid. But that is the very thing you are go- ing to do. I? Oh, I can go alone anywhere. Ah, there it is! said the lady, bitter- ly. It is I who am a drag on you. It is I who am getting you into danger. Yet why not leave me? Tell me where the road is: I will go back alone. Oh, well, said the priest, with his usual short laugh, as for that, we may talk of it again. Ill tell you presently. It may come to that, but I hope not. I VOL. LxvTI.No. 8973 am going to that castle all the same. Ive been there before, and without harm: I expect to come back. But suppose I do not, how long will you wait here for me ? As long as you say.~~ Twenty-four hours ? Yes.1 Very well. I do not think they will detain me, but it is best to be prepared. And now, by way of preliminary, I will show you how I can go over there. IRe- member, I have been here before, and have become acquainted with some of the secrets of this place. If you should be in danger, or if I should not come back, you will be able to fly by the way which I will now show you. The priest arose and entered the tower, followed by the lady. The pavement was of stone. Part of it was open, and some ruinous steps led into a cellar. Here they descended, and found themselves in a place which had been excavated from the rock which formed three sides of the place. On the fourth was a wall, in which was a wide gap that looked out upon the chasm. It seemed as though there had once been a bridge at this point leading over to the castle. Here, said the priest, if you look out you can not imagine any possibility of descent, but if you examine carefully you will perceive a narrow ledge among the shrubbery. Go out on this, and fol- low it along, and you will find it growing wider as it goes down. It will take you all the way to the bottom of this chasm, and there you will find stepping - stones by which to cross the brook, and on the opposite side a trail like this, which will lead you to the top of the opposite ridge. I dont think that I should feel in- clined to try it, said the lady; but I am glad, all the same, that I have a mode of retreat. It makes one feel less desper- ate. Oh, you know, I hope to be back again. You seem to me to be going to death, said she, in a low voice, and I am the cause. To death, said the priest, with his usual laugh. Moriturus te salut at. Pardon !thats Latin. At any rate, we may as well shake hands over it. He held out his hand. She caught it in both of hers. God protect you ! she murmured, in a low voice, with quivering lips. I 36 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. shall be in despair till you come back. I Never mind what it is. What are shall never have the courage to fly. If you Who are you? What the devil you do not come back, I shall die in this do you mean by coming here ? tower. Give your name and rank, persisted Child, said the priest, in a sad, sweet the priest, in the same tone as before, voice, you are too despondent. I will and beware how you trifle with one who come backdo not fear. Try and get rid may be your master. Who gave you au- of these gloomy thoughts. And now once thority to occupy this post ? more good-by. Master ?authority ? cried the Car- He pressed her hand and departed list chief with an oath, which was follow- through the gap. He then began his de- ed by a laugh. Who is my master? I scent, while the lady stood watching him never saw him. Here, you fellows 1 he with anxious eyes and despairing face till cried, to some of his gang who stood near, he had passed out of sight. take this fellow offtake him inside. Let me seetake him to the lower dun- geons, and let him see who is master here 1 CHAPTER x. At this a score of stout ruffians came forward to obey the order. But the priest HOW THE PRIEST BEARDS A LION IN remained as cool as before. He simply HIS DEN. drew forth a paper, and looking round THE priest walked down the path into upon the ruffians, he said, in a quiet the chasm. Here there was a brook, whose voice: babbling had been heard from above. In Keep back, you fellows, and take care winter this was a fierce torrent, but now what you do I Im the Cur6 of Santa it was reduced to a slender and shallow Cruz. stream. At that formidable name the whole After crossing the brook the priest came band stopped short, mute and awe-struck, to the other side, and ascended a path of for it was no common name which he had the same kind as that by which he had de- thus announced. It was a name which scended, until at last he reached the top of already had been trumpeted over the the ridge on which the castle was situated. world, and in Spain had gained a baleful He now turned and directed his steps renown-a name which belonged to one straight toward the castle, which he soon who was known as the right arm of Don reached. At the gate stood some armed Carlos, one who was known as the beau tatterdemalions, whom the priest recog- ideal of the Spanish character, surpassing nized as having formed part of the gang all others in splendid audacity and merci- that had stopped the train the day before. less cruelty, lavish generosity and bitter- Of these he took no heed, but walked up est hate, magnificent daring and narrow- boldly and asked to see their captain. est fanaticism. At once chivalrous and One of the guards went with him, and cruel, pious and pitiless, brave and bigot- after traversing the court-yard they came ed, meek and merciless, the Cur6 of Santa to the keep. Here the Carlist chief was Cruz had embodied in himself all that was seen lolling on a stone bench outside, and brightest and darkest in the Spanish char- smoking a villainous cigar. As the priest acter, and his name had become a word to approached he started to his feet, with no conjure bya word of power like that of little surprise on his face, together with a Garibaldi in Italy, Schamyl in Circassia, dark and menacing frown, which did not or Stonewall Jackson in America. And by any means augur well for the bold ad- thus when these ruffians heard that name venturer, it worked upon them like a spell, and they Who are you ? he asked, fiercely. stood still, awe-struck and mute. Even The priest in return eyed the Carlist the Carlist chief was compelled to own its from head to foot, and then said, in a power, although, perhaps, he would not sharp, authoritative tone, have felt by any means inclined to sub- Your name and rank ? mit to that potent spell had he not seen At this singular rejoinder to his ques- its effect upon his followers. tion the Carlist chief looked somewhat I dont believe it, he growled. amazed. You do believe it, said the priest, My name ? said he, with a sneer. fiercely: you know it. Besides, I hold A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 37 here the mandate of the King ; and he brandished the paper, shouting at the same time, Viva el Rey ! at which all the men caught up the same cry, and shouted in unison. The priest smiled a good-natured, amia- ble, forgiving smile. After all, said he, in a milder voice it is well for you to be cautious. I ap- prove of this rough reception: it is soldier- like. It shows that you are true to the King. But read this. Give me some- thing to eat and drink, and then I will tell you my errand. With these words he handed the paper to the Carlist chief, who took it somewhat sulkily, and read as follows: HEAD-QUARTERS, VERA, August 23, l8~73. To all officers of the army, and to all good and loyal subjects, greeting: Receive and respect our friend and lieutenant the Cur6 of Santa CruE, who bears this, and is engaged in a special mission in our serv ice. CARLOS. On reading this the Carlist chief drew a long breath, looked around upon his fol- lowers, elevated his eyebrows, and finally turned to the priest. What do you want ? he asked, in no very courteous manner. Nothing, said the priest. Not one single thing from you butbreakfast. Dont be alarmed. I havent come in here to interfere with you at all. My business is elsewhere. Do you understand me The priest gave him a glance which was meant to convey more than the words ex- pressed. At this the whole manner of the Carlist chief underwent a change. He at once dropped all his sourness and gloom. Do you mean it ? he asked, eagerly. Certainly. Then, cried the Carlist, youre right welcome, and I hope youll not mind whats happened. We have to be cautious, you know, and suspicious. My dear friend, I assure you I shouldnt have troubled you at all, only Im starv- ing. Then I swear you shall have the best breakfast in all Spain. Come income in. Come, in the name of Heaven, and Ill give you a breakfast that will last you for a week. With these words the Carlist chief led the way inside, and the priest followed. It was the lower story of the central building, or keep, and was constructed in the most massive manner out of vast blocks of rough-hewn stone. The apart- ment was about fifty feet in length, twenty- five in width, and twelve in height. On either side there were openings into cham- bers or passageways. The roof was vault- ed, and at the farther end of the apartment there was a stairway constructed of the same cyclopean stones as the rest of the edifice. All the stone-work here visible had the same ponderous character, and seemed formed to last for many centuries to come. Around the sides of this lower hall were suspended arms and accoutrements. There were also rude massive benches, upon which were flung rugs and blank- ets. Here and there were little groups, not only of men, but also of women and children. On the left side there was an enormous chimney, which was large enough for a separate chamber. In this a fire was burning, and a woman was at- tending to the cooking of a savory stew. An aromatic smell of coffee was diffusing itself through the atmosphere; and this was surrounded and intermingled with the stronger and ranker though less pungent odors of the stew aforesaid. The priest flung himself carelessly into a seat near a massive.oaken table, and the Carlist chief took a seat beside him. The priest questioned the chief very closely as to his doings and the disposition of his people through the country, while the chief surveyed the priest furtively and cautiously. At last he said, abruptly, You were on the train yesterday. I was, replied the priest, coolly. Why did you not tell me who you were ~ What a question to ask 1, said the priest. Dont you understand? When I am out I dont want any one to know or suspect. I did not choose to tell even you. Why should I? I didnt know you. But you lost your purse, said the chief, in rather a humble voice, And was there much in it ? asked the priest. The chief laughed. Breakfast now followed, and of this the priest partook heartily. Then he start- ed up. I must make haste, said he, and continue my journey; but as I am going 38 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZJNiE. into out-of-the-way places, I shall have to ask you for some supplies. This request was very cheerfully grant- ed, loaves and cold meats being furnished from the Carlist larder. These the priest put into a wallet, and thus equipped, he was ready for the march. Adios, said he, noble captain, till we meet again. Adios, said the chief. The priest then shook hands with his entertainer, and turned away. Leaving the castle, he walked down the slope for some distance, until at length he reached the skirts of the forest. Turning round here, he stood looking back cautiously till he felt convinced that he had not been followed, and was not observed. He now plunged into the forest, and worked his way along until he came to the chasm, and found the path before mentioned. Down this he went on his way back to the tower. CHAPTER XI. HOW THE FIRST PRIEST VANISHES, AND AN- OTHER PRIEST APPEARS UPON THE SCENE. As the priest emerged from the brush- wood at tbe top of the path he suddenly found himself face to face with the lady. She had come through the opening, and was standing outside, waiting there, breath- less, her hands clasped and her eyes set in a fixed and eager gaze of vigilant outlook and of terrified apprehension. As she rec- ognized the priest, her whole expression changed; her face flushed, her eyes grew moist with tears of joy, her lips quivered. Oh, thank God! thank God ! she cried. Oh, how glad I am The priest stood and looked at her in silence, although there was certainly ev- ery occasion for saying something. Final- ly he held out bis hand, and she took it in hers, which were cold as ice, and trem- ulous. Poor child ! said the priest, you have been too excited. But its worth going over there, said he at last, to make a fellow- creature happy by coming back. Oh no, she said, not for that. No- thing can compensate for the frightful, the terrible anxietynothing. But I will say no more. I am ready now for any fatigue or peril. My worst fear is over. Oh, its all very well to be glad to see me, said the priest, but thats nothing to the gladness youll feel when you se& what Ive brought back with me. You just wait and seethats all. With these words he ascended into the tower through the gap, and assisted the lady after him. They then went up the broken stairway, and out into the open air to the fallen tree where they had taken their breakfast. Upon this he seated him- self, and the lady did the same. He now opened the wallet, and distributed to her some of his stock of provisions, pointing~ out to her with an air of triumph the fact. that they had enough to last them for a week. The lady said but little and at& but little; the priest, for his part, ate less ~ so the breakfast was soon dispatched, aft er which the priest loaded his pipe and smoked the smoke of peace. The priest, as he smoked, occasionally threw a furtive glance at the lady, who. now sat absorbed in her own medita- tions. I propose to ask you a few questions, said the priest, merely for the sake of conversation, and you neednt answer unless you like. In the first place, you havent been long in Spain, I take it ~ No, said the lady; only a few days. And you are on your way back to~ England ? Yes. Have you been travelling alone ? At first I had a maid, but she got~ frightened and left me at Bayonne. Since then I have had to travel alone. You mustnt think me too inquisi- tive, said the priest. I merely wished to know in a general way, and am by no means trying to pry into your affairs. He spoke in a careless tone. He was. lolling in an easy attitude, and appeared to be enjoying his smoke very much. After saying these words he began to fuss with his pipe, which did not draw well, humming to himself at the same time some absurd verses: My love he was a drapers clerk; He came to see me after dark: Around the Park we used to stray To hear the lily-white bandsmen play. CHoaus OF D~Arzas CLERKS. Hark! from the tombs a doleful sound, My love lies buried under-ground A faint smile came over the ladys face as she heard these nonsensical words from one in the garb of a priest. Still, she re- flected that while it was his voice that was. A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 39 singing, his mind was no doubt intent on something else. By-the-bye, resumed the priest, as Im asking questions, I should like to ask one more. May I ? Most certainly, said the lady. What is it? Well, your name, you know. Its awkward to be as we are. Now, if I were shot, and wanted you to help me, I shouldnt know what to call you. The lady smiled. My name is Talbot, said she. Ah Mrs. Talbot, said the priest. Thanks. Not Mrs. said the lady, again smil- ing; Miss Talbot. My full name is Syd- ney Talbot. Sydney Talbot, repeated the priest. Thanks. Thats all. Everything else is told. I may add, however, in an inci- dental way, that my name is Brooke. Father Brooke ? said the lady, inter- rogatively, with a furtive smile, which was perhaps occasioned by the incongruity be- tween the priests sacred garb and some- what eccentric manner. To this question the reply was not particularly appropriate. The priest, or Brooke, as he may now be called, looked with a smile of quiet drollery at Miss Tal- bot, and then, in a strange whining voice began to drone out some verses of a song: Old Blue-beard was a warrior bold~ He kept his wives in a great stronghold. OneTwo--ThreeFourFiveSixSeven They all of them died and went to heaven. Old B. fell into a dismal state, And went and married Number Eight. Well, he resumed, in his natural voice, Father Brooke isnt bad; Brother Brooke, however, would be better; but, on the whole, simple Brooke is the best of all. Well, now, Mr. Brooke, asked the lady, anxiously, what are our prospects? Have you found out anything ? Oh yes; Ive had a conversation with an amiable Carlist, who was on the point of blowing my brains out, and was only prevented by the unparalleled cheek of the unworthy being who now addresses you. Did you really incur such danger ? asked Miss Talbot, in unfeigned anxiety. Danger? Oh, a trifle; but a miss is as good as a mile. Im here now, safe and sound, but for two or three seconds you ran a great risk of making your jour- ney alone. However, I made friends with them, and was entertained royally. Now as to escape. Im sorry to say that the country is swarming everywhere with these noble Carlists; that there is no such thing as law; that there are no inagis- trates, no police, no post-office, no tele- graph, no railway trains, no newspapers, and no taxes except of an irregular kind. That is very bad, said Miss Talbot, slowly, and in a low, anxious voice. Oh yes, said Brooke, but theres no need to despair. Its quite plain that we can not travel by day without being dis- covered, so we shall have to try it by night. This will be all the better. So you must spend this day in meditation and prayer, and also in laying up a stock of bodily aiid mental strength. To-night we set forth, and we must move on all night long. Ive had an idea all day, which I suppose theres no great harm in mentioning. What? What do you say to disguising your- self as a priest l A priest? How can I? Well, with a dress like this of mine. Its very convenientlong, ample, hides everythingjust the thing, in fact. You can slip it on over your present dress, and there you are, transformed into a priest. I hope youre not proud. Im sure I should be only too glad to disguise myself; but where can I get the dress ? Take this one. The one that you have ? Yes.~~ But what will you do ? Do without. But that will expose you to danger. No, it wont. It wont make the slight- est difference. Im only wearing this for the sake of variety. The fact is, you see, I found I was growing too volatile, and so I assumed a priests dress, in the hope that it would give me greater sobriety and weight of character. Ive been keeping it up for three days, and feel a little tired of it. So you may have it, a free gift, breviary and all, especially the breviary. Cometheres a fair offer. I really can not make out, said Miss Talbot, with a laugh, whether you are in jest or earnest. Oh, then take me in earnest, said Brooke, and accept the offer. You see, its your only chance of escape. You know old Billy Magee 40 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. Old Billy Magee wore a flaxen wig, And a beard did his face surround, For the bailie came racing after he With a hill for fifty pound. So what do you say to gracefully giving way to necessity ? If you really think that you will be running no risk No more than Ive always been run- ning until three days ago. Well, I shall be very glad indeed, and only too much obliged. Thats an uncommonly sensible deci- sion, said Brooke. You see, said he, as he unbuttoned the priests robe, Ive merely been wearing this over my usual dress, and you can do the same. As lie spoke he drew off the robe. You can slip it on, he continued, as easy as wink, and youll find it quite large enough every way. And now Brooke stood divested of the priests dress, revealing himself clothed in a suit of brown tweedhunting coat, knickerbockers, stockings, laced boots, etc. He then took from his coat pocket a trav- elling cap with a visor, which he put upon his head. You can have the priests hat too, he added, and But no, by Jove I I wont no, I wont let you have the spectacles. You might wear them in case of need, though, for theyre only plain glass. But, hang it! I cantI cant, and you shant. Only fancy putting spectacles on the angel Gabriel I Meanwhile Miss Talbot had taken fhe priests robe, and had thrown it over her own dress. The clerical frock was of cloth, long enough to reach to her feet, and buttoned all the way from her chin down. Around the neck was a cape, which descended half-way to the knees. As she passed her arms through the sleeves she remarked that it would fit her admira- bly, and then taking the hat, she retired inside the tower, so as to adjust the out- lines of her new costume in a more satis- factory manner than was possible before a spectator. At the door of the tower she turned. One thing will be against me, said she. What shall I do about it ? What is that ? Why, my hair. Your hair I repeated Brooke. Hm! well, that is a puzzle. It will interfere with anything like a real disguise, of course. Well, I suppose it would. In which case we can only hope not to come near enough to the enemy to be closely in- spected. Had I not better cut it off ? said Miss Talbot. What I exclaimed Brooke,with amaze- ment in his face. Miss Talbot repeated her question. Cut off your hairthat hair I said Brooke. What a horrible idea I Will you cut it ? Never I said Brooke, fervently. Shall I ? Brooke drew a long breath and looked earnestly at her. Oh, dont ask me, said he at length, in a dejected tone. Im floored. Its like throwing overboard a cargo of gold and silver and precious stones to lighten the ship. Yea, moreits like the Russian woman who threw over her child to the wolves to make possible the escape of the rest of the family. But there are some who would prefer to be eaten by wolves rather than sacrifice the child. Well, said Miss Talbot, your com- parison of the child is a little too much; but if it conies to throwing the treasure over- board to save the ship, I shall not hesitate a moment. Brooke made no reply, and Miss Talbot went into the tower. CHAPTER XII. How BROOKE AND TALBOT TAKE TO FLIGHT. THEY started a little after sunset. An hours walk brought them to the road, at the spot where they had first met, after which they turned toward the place where Brooke had left the train on the previous day. Their pace was a moderate one, for the whole night was before them, and Brooke was awxious to save Talbots strength as much as possible. For about an hour more they walked along, until they came to where the coun- try was more open. The moon was shin- ing brightly, and thus far there had been no signs of life. But at this point there came up sounds from the road before them which were not a little alarming. Brooke laid himself upon the ground, and listened for some time. People are approaching, said he. There is quite a large crowd. They A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 41 must be Carlists. It will be dangerous for us to go on any farther. It will be better to hide here until they pass. Very well, said Talbot. I quite agree with you. I should hate to go back again. There was on their right, not far from the road, an old windmill, which stood upon a gently rising ground, and was quite a conspicuous object. This caught the eye of Brooke as he looked all around him. There, said he, is the place for us. These fellows seem to be on the march. They will soon pass by this and be gone. Let us hide in the old mill. Talbot at once assented. They then left the road and crossed the fields. In a short time they reached the mill. It was deserted, and the machinery was ont of order, but otherwise it was in good preser- vation. The door was open, and they en- tered. Having once obtained this con- cealment, they stood in the doorway anx- iously watching. At length they saw a crowd of men come up along the road, and these they regarded with quick-beat- ing hearts. Brooke, said Talbot, in a whisper. What ? What shall we do if they happen to come here ? Thats a solemn question, said Brooke. We ought to have something to fall back on. Wait. He went away for a few minutes, and then returned. As he came back to the door Talbot pressed his arm and pointed. Brooke looked out. To his horror the whole band had stopped, and some of them were facing toward the mill as though about to ap- proach it. What a mistake weve made ! said Brooke. Theyre coming here, said Talbot, in a thrilling whisper. What can we do? Can we fly ? No, said Brooke; theyll see us. We have only one hope. Theres a lad- der here, and we can climb up into the loft. Come. Taking Talbots hand, Brooke led her to the ladder, and they climbed up into the loft, where they sat listening. Talbots anticipation was too true. The band approached toward the mill, and soon the two fugitives heard them all around. CHAPTER XIII. HOW BROOKE AND TALBOT MAKE SEVERAL NEW ACQUAINTANCES. FOR some time the two fugitives remain- ed motionless and listened. There seemed to be a large number of men below, of whom a few were inside the mill, but the greater part remained outside. These kept up an incessant jabber; but it was of a discordant character, some talking about getting ready a supper, some about making a fire, some abont forage, while at times a word would be dropped which seemed to indicate that tbey were in pursuit of fugi- tives. Nothing more definite than this could be learned. Brooke, however, had been gradually creeping to one side of the mill, where there was a window, while Talbot followed as noiselessly as possible, until they both were able from their concealment to look out upon the scene below, which was in no way calculated to re-assure them. They saw a crowd of men, about a hundred in number, who looked very much to Brooke like the train-stoppers of the day before. Their arms were piled, and they themselves were dispersed about, engaged in various occupations; some eating, some drinking, some smoking, while from them all a con- fused hubbub arose. Half a dozen ill-looking fellows came to- ward the door of the mill. A fire! said one. Lets burn down the old mill. Theres wood enough in it. Ay, said another, wood enough for a hundred fires. A shout of applause greeted this propos- al, but the hearers above felt their hearts quail with horror. Talbot laid her hand on Brookes arm. Brooke, to re-assure her, took her hand in his and pressed it gently, and felt it cold and tremulous. He drew her nearer to him, and whispered softly in her ear: Dont be alarmed. At the worst, we can give ourselves up. Trust to me. Talbot drew a long breath, and made a desperate effort to master her fears; but the scene below grew more and more ter- rible. The wild shont of approbation which followed the proposal to burn the mill was caught up by one after another, till at last the whole band was filled with that one idea. A dozen men rushed inside, and began to hammer, and tear, and pull at the flooring and other parts of the wood- 42 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. work, while others busied themselves with preparing splints with which to kindle the fire. Brooke, whispered Talbot, in a trem- ulous voice oh, Brooke, let us go down. Waitnot yet, said Brooke, on whose brow cold drops of perspiration were al- ready standing. Wait. Let us see what they will do. Talbot drew back with a shudder. The mill is of stone, said Brooke. They cant burn it. But all the inside is of wood, said Talbot the floors, the doors, the ma- chinery, the beams. Brooke was silent, and watched the pre- parations outside. These grew more and more menacing. A great pile of wood was soon collected, which grew rapidly to more formidable proportions. If these prisoners hoped for life, they must leave their present hiding-place, and soon, too; for soonah, too soon, if that pile were once kindledthe flames would pour in, and burn all the inner wood-work, even if the walls were of stone. At this moment a man came hurrying forward and burst in among the crowd. Whats the meaning of all this non- sense ? he asked, in a stern voice. Why, were burning the mill, said one of the most active of the party. Fools! cried the other. Are you mad? It will attract attention. We shall be seenperhaps attacked. Pooh! said the man, impudently; what of that? Thats all the better. The other laid his hand upon his sword, and looked as though he was about to use it; but a wild outcry burst forth from all the crowd, and with an impatient gesture he turned away. By his dress, which was the only uniform visible, and also by his bearing, he seemed to be the captain of the band, yet his authority did not seem to receive any very strong recognition. Still, the sight of this uniform was of it- self encouraging to Brooke, who now at once decided upon the course which he should adopt. There was no longer time to hesitate. Already the match was struck, the next moment the flame would be touched to the kindling, and the fires would blaze up. So Brooke called in a loud voice, Stop! stop till we come down ! At this cry they all looked up in amaze- ment. The match dropped from the hand of the man who held it, and several of the men sprang to their arms. Who goes there ? cried the one who seemed to be the captain. Friends, said Brooke. Well come down. Then turning to Talbot, he whispered: Now, Talbot, is the time to show the stuff youre made of. Courage, my boy! courage! Remember, Talbot, youre not a girl nownot a weak girl, but youre a boyand an English boy! Remember that, my lad, for now your life and mine too depend upon you ! Dont fear for me, said Talbot, firmly. Good ! said Brooke. Now follow me and be as cool as a clock, even if you feel the muzzle of a pistol against your forehead. With these cheerful words Brooke de- scended and Talbot followed. The ladder had not been removed, for the simple rea- son that it consisted of slats nailed against two of the principal beams, too solid even for Samson himself to shake. On reach- ing the lower story they hurried out at once, and the gang stood collected togeth- er awaiting thema grim and grisly throng. Among them the man whom Brooke had taken for their captain was now their spokesman. Who are you ? he asked, rudely, aft- er a hasty glance at each. Brooke could not now adopt the tone which had been so effective in the morn- ing, for his gown was off, and he could no longer be the Curi of Santa Cruz. He kept his coolness, however, and answered, in an off-hand manner: Oh, its all right; were friends. Ill show you our papers. All right ? said the other, with a laugh. Thats good too ! At this all the crowd around laughed. I belong to the good cause, said Brooke. Im a loyal subject of his Maj- esty. Viva el Rey I He expected some response to this loyal sentiment, but the actual result was sim- ply appalling. The captain looked at him, and then at Talbot, with a cruel stare. Ah ! said he. I thought so. Boys, he continued, turning to his men, were in luck. Well get something out of these devils. Theyre part of the band. They can put us on the track. This remark was greeted with a shout of applause. A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 43 Allow me to inform you, sefior, said the captain to the unfortunate Brooke, that you have made a slight mistake. You are not our friends, but our ene- mies. We are not Carlists, but iRepub- licans. I am Captain Lopez, of the Four- teenth Regiment, and have been detailed with these brave fellows on a special mis- sion. You are able to give us useful in- formation; but if you refuse to give it you shall both be shot. In spite of the terrible mistake which he had made, Brooke kept his coolness and his presence of mind admirably. Im very glad to hear it, said he to Lopez. The fact is, I thought you were Carlists, and so I said that I was one too as any one would do. But Im not a Carlist; Im a Republican. Lopez at this gave utterance to a de- risive laugh. Oh yes, he said, of course you are anything we please. And if we should turn out, after all, to be Carlists, you would swear that you are a Carlist again. Doesnt it strike you, sefior, that you are trifling with us I assure you, Captain Lopez, said Brooke, that Im not a Carlist, for Im not a Spaniard. You may not be a Spaniard, yet still be a devoted Carlist. Yes, but Im not. I assure you that Im a Republican. Shall I prove it to you and to all these gentlemen ? Try it, sneered Lopez. Im an American, said Brooke. An American, repeated Lopez, bitter- ly. Better for you to be a Carlist than that. Is it not enough for you Americans to intermeddle with our affairs in Cuba, and help our rebels there, but must you also come to help our rebels here? But comewhat is your business here? Lets see what new pretense you have to offer. I am a traveller. Yes, I suppose so, sneered Lopez. ~And who is this other? He is a young priest. A young priest? Ah! Then, sefior, let me inform you that as Spaniards we hate all Americans, and as Republicans we hate all priests. Spain has had too much of both. Americans are her worst enemies outside, and priests inside. Down with all Americans and priests ! The echo to this sentiment came in a shout from all the followers of Lopez: Down with all Americans and priests ! With this cry a hundred fierce faces surrounded them, and glared at them with fiery eyes. It seemed as though their last hour had come. The crowd pressed closer, and clamored for their immediate destruction. The only thing that held them back was the attitude of Brooke, who stood perfectly cool and tranquil, with his eyes fixed on Lopez, a good-natured smile on his face, and his hands carelessly in his pockets. Close beside him stood Tal- bot, pale, it is true, but with a calm ex- terior that showed not one trace of fear. Brooke did not see her, and did not ven- ture to look at her, but he felt that she was as firm as a rock. Had they faltered in the slightest degree, the storm must have burst; but as it was, the calmness of these two disarmed the fury of the mob, and their fierce passion died away. Captain Lopez, said Brooke, in a quiet and friendly tone, you may have reason to hate my country, but I assure you that you have absolutely no cause for complaint against me and my friend. We are simple travellers who have been in- terrupted on our journey, and are now trying to get to the nearest railway sta- tion so as to resume it as soon as pos- sible. How did you get here ? asked Lopez, after a pause, in which he again scruti- nized severely the two prisoners. Brooke had anticipated this question, and had made up his mind as to his an- swer. It was his intention to identify himself with Talbot, and speak as though he had all along been travelling with the young priest. Our train stopped, said he, and we took the diligence over this road yester- day. We were stopped again, captured and robbed by Carlists, and we have es- caped from them, and are now trying to get back. Was your train stopped by Carlists ? No; the diligence. Where did the Carhists go ? I have no idea. Where did you come from last ? Barcelona. Where are you going now To England, said Brooke; and final- ly, he added, allow me to show you this, which I am sure will establish my character in your eyes. With these words he drew forth a paper, and handed it to Lopez. The latter took it, and one of the men lighted a bit of 44 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. wood, which served as a torch, after which Lopez read the following: HEAD-QUARTERS, VITORIA, 2lfay 10, 18~3. This is to certify that the bearer of this is an American citizen named Raleigh Brooke, and is correspondent of a New York journal. He has permission to trav- erse our lines in pursuit of his business. CoNcHA. Lopez read it over a second time. A newspaper correspondent ! said he. Hm! That means a spy. He handed it back again to Brooke, who replaced it in his pocket. Ill think it over, con- tinued Lopez. Ill examine you both to- morrow, and inspect your papers. Im too tired now. You may both go inside again where you were hiding before. We wont burn you up. At these last words the whole gang burst into a jeering laugh that foreboded some- thing so horrible that the stout heart of Brooke quailed within him, as, followed by Talbot, he once more entered the old mill. CHAPTER XIV. HOW THE ANXIOIJS RUSSELL SEEKS TO CONCEAL A TREASURE. THE Russell party, on reaching the cas- tle, were all conducted inside, where they found themselves in an arched hall which has already been described. Traversing this, they ascended the massive stairway at the end, and came to another large hall immediately above the lower one. This had once been the grand banqueting hall of the castle, and was less rough and se- vere in its appearance than other parts; for while the walls elsewhere showed the unfinished faces of the rude blocks of stone, here there was an effort after some- thing like ornament; yet this was so slight that even here the general air was still one of severe and austere grandeur. If Harry had cherished any hope of pro- longing his acquaintance with Katie, he was now destined to be disappointed; for on reaching this upper hall they were in- formed that they would have to be sepa- ratedthe men to go in one direction and the women in another. This arrangement was partly for the comfort of both parties, but still more for their safe-keeping, since escape would thus be far more difficult. Accordingly the ladies were taken away by some female attendants, while Russell, in company with Harry, was taken to their quarters on the opposite side of the great hall. Here they found themselves in an apartment which was very long, very wide, and very lofty. The roof was arch- ed, and all the stones were of cyclopean dimensions. At one end there was an immense fire-place. On either side there were narrow windows, which on one side looked down on the front yard inside the wall, while on the other they commanded a view of one of the inner court-yards. Harry, on his first entrance into the room, walked about surveying the place, and noting these particulars by the lurid glow of the torches. On the whole, the prospect was highly unsatisfactory, and Harry turned away from this first survey with a feeling of mild dejection. There was scarcely any- thing in the room which deserved the name of furniture. In one corner there was a rude structure with straw on it, which was intended for a bed. Opposite this there was a ponderous oaken bench, and upon this old Russell seated himself wearily. Here he sat, and as Harry com- pleted his survey of the apartment his eyes rested upon his unfortunate compan- ion as he sat there, the picture of terror, despondency, and misery. Harry felt an involuntary pity for the man; and as his own flow of spirits was unfailing, he set himself to work to try and cheer him. Well, said he, this is rather a dis- mal place, Russell; but, after all, its bet- ter than being put in a vault under- ground. Its pup-precious kik-kik-cold, said Russell, his teeth chattering, partly from cold and partly from terror. This 11 bring on an attack of rheumatizthats what its going to do. Oh, I know it ! Well, it is a little chilly, thats a~ fact, said Harry, shrugging his shoul- ders. Its a pity we couldnt use that fire-place. But what a tremendous fire- place it is! Why, its as big as a barn. What do you say to our amusing ourselves by starting a fire? It would be great fun. But weve gig-gig-got no fuel, said Russell, with a shiver. Fuel? Why, lets cut up that big bench. What with ? A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 4t~ Why, with my pocket-knife, of course. We could whittle enough chips off it to make a good big fire, and still have enough left for a bench. In fact, we could get enough fuel off that for a dozen fires. Why, man, there must be at least a cord of wood in that bench. Whittlings rather slow work, its true, but in a place like this it 11 be an occupation, and thats something. Prisoners go mad unless they have something to do; and so, just to save myself from madness, I mean to go in for fuelunless you can think of something else thats better. iRattling out this in his usual lively fash- ion, Harry went to the bench, and began a solemn examination of it with a view toward whittling it up into fire-wood. Russell did not move, but regarded Harry with the same silent misery in his face. At last he spoke: What did-did-do you think theyre a-going to did-did-do ? Who ?, asked Harry. Why, these peoplethat kik-kik-cap- tured us. These Carlists? Well, I dont know: seems to me they want to make some mon- ey out of us. Why did they let all the Spaniards g& and kik-kik-capture us Oh, well, they think as were English, well probably have more money about u~ than their own countrymen, and be safer plunder also. Did-did-do you think theyll go so far as to pip-pup-plunder us ? asked Russell~ in a voice of horror. Havent a doubt of it. Oh Lord ! groaned the other. Whats the matter ? Russell gave a fresh groan. This kik-kik-cursed kik-kik-country ! he at h~ngth ejaculated. Oh, well, said Harry, it isnt the country; its the people. Do you think theyre really Kik-kik-- Carlists ? Well, yes. I dont see any reason why they shouldnt be. I was thinking that they might be~ hub-hub-bandits HIS UNFORTUNATE COMPANION SAT THERE, THE PICTURE OF TERROR, DESPONDENCY, AND MISERY. 46 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. Well, there isnt any very great dif- ference between the two, so far as we are concerned. But isnt there any law among the Kik-kik-Carlists? Cant we appeal to Did- did-Don Carlos ? Oh yes, of courseif we could only get at him, and if he could only get at us; but these two things are just what cant be done. And so Im afraid well have to make up our minds to pay the piper. At this Russell again gave a heavy groan. Dont be alarmed, said Harry, in a soothing tone. We can beat them down. No, moaned Russell, we cant do anything. And Ive got too much about me altogether. You havent carried any large sum of money with you, surely ? cried Harry. Why, man, youre mad! But I didnt think thered be any danger on the railway, said Russell. If your money is in bills of exchange youll be right enough, said Harry. Russell shook his head. ~ said he; its worse than that. How ? My money is in hub-hub-bondsSpan- ish bub-bub-bonds. Bonds ! repeated Harry. Yes, groaned Russell kik-kik-cou- pon bub-bub-bonds. Coupon bonds! Why, man, what in Heavens name are you doing with coupon bonds in this country ? Why, theyre Spanish bonds, and I was taking them out of the country to England. Whew? whistled Harry. In how much ? Thirty thousand pounds ! wailed Rus- sell, in a voice of despair. Another prolonged whistle was the re- sult of this information. Its no use making it a secret to you, continued Russell. Ill be searched, I suppose, and the bonds 11 be taken. Ill tell you what to do, said Harry: let me take care of them. Russell shook his head. N-no; youll be searched too. Theyll be no safer. Well, then, hide them in this room somewhere. I dont know where to hide them, said Russell, dolefully; besides, we may be taken to another room, and so its no ~use hiding them here. Ive been think- ing of sewing them up inside the lining of my coat, only I havent any needle and thread to sew with. Oh, if Mrs. Russell were here! I didnt think of this. Id get her to stitch them inside my coat to-night. And now I dont know what to do. If it werent for these bonds I should feel safe enough. But the amount is so e - nor- mous Are they registered ? Oh no. I dont believe they register bonds in this miserable country, or do anything but steal them, groaned Rus- sell. I suppose theyll overhaul us all to-morrow. Very likely. Can you think of any way by which I can hide these bonds? Harry shook his head. At the same moment there occurred to him what Ash- by had told him about certain Spanish bonds. If Ashby was right, then this must be the very money which belonged to Katie, and which, according to Ashby, Russell was trying to get hold of for him- self. From this point of view it sudden- ly assumed an immense interest in his eyes, and drove away the thought of ev- ery other thing. Even the fire was now forgotten, and the bench was not dese- crated by the knife. See here; Ill tell you what to ~ said Harry, thoughtfully and earnestly. The very worst thing that you can do is to carry all that money about with you, on your own person, mind that. Youll be searched, of course. To stitch them in your clothes is absurd. These people will examine every square inch of all your clothes, including your shirt collar, your pocket - handkerchief, your silk hat, and your boots. Theyd find the smallest fragment of a bit of paper, even if you had it hidden inside your boot - laces. Now, Ill tell you what youll have to do. Youll have to get rid of that money of yours. Bub-bub-bub-but how ? stammered Russell, in fresh consternation. How? Why, hide it. Where? Somewhere about hereand soon too before you go to sleep. But suppose I am tit-tit-taken away, and dont come back again ? Well, in that case your only hope is to confide in me, and then if you are taken away I shall perhaps be left. Its not likely that both of us will be taken away from here. We shall perhaps be sepa A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 47 rated, and one will be left behind. In that case the one who is left can watch over the treasure. Besides, in case we should escape, we shall know where it is, and we may be able to get the government to send a body of men here to help us recover it. Oh yesthe government ! said iRus- sell, bitterly. I know the government here only too well. The government will send a body of men here to help us recover it, and thenwhy, then of course theyll keep it all for themselves, every farthing. Yes, sir, thats the Spanish styleevery farthing. No; dont talk to me about the government! Im bound to hold on to this, and not trust to any of your beggarly Spanish governments. But if you hold on to it youll be sure to lose it, said Harry, in great im- patience. I dont believe theyll examine me at all, said Russell, suddenly changing his tone. They will, persisted Harry, as sure as youre alive, and that, too, before this time to-morrow. In that case youll lose every penny of the thirty thousand pounds. (And of course, thought Harry, it 11 be poor little Katies loss; and all through the infernal obstinacy of this pig-headed tailor.) Oh, well, Ill think it over, said Rus- sell, cautiously avoiding any further dis- cussion. You wont have much time for that, urged Harry. Oh yes, I willplenty of time. Ill have all night, for I wont sleep a wink, and I shall have nothing else to do but to think over this. This was droned out in a tone of utter despair. Russell sat motionless for some time, until at length the heavy breathing of his companion showed that he was asleep. Upon this he rose, and went on tiptoe softly over to Harrys bed, and tried in various ways to see whether the sleep was false or real. Having assured himself that it was real, he took up the torch, and began to survey the apartment more close ly. Already, while talking with Harry, his eyes had narrowly scanned every cor- ner of the room, and no place had appear- ed which could afford the slightest chance of concealment. From the very first he had thought of the stone pavement of the floor; but now, on examination, this proved to be far too ponderous to be moved by any force that he could command. Thus, after having traversed the whole room, he reached the fire-place. This, as has been said, was of gigantic dimensions, being intended to hold enough wood to heat this vast apartment. Here among the mountains, inside this stone castle, the cold was sometimes severe, and the builders of the castle had in this way made provision for the comfort of its oc- cupants. To this chimney Russell now turned his attention, in the hope that something might present itself here which could be used as a place of concealment. So he walked stealthily and noiselessly toward it, and on reaching it stood sur- veying its huge dimensions in great as- tonishment. Such chimneys may still be seen in many an old castle or palace in the north of Europe, though less frequent in the castles of Spain. This one wa~ deep and wide and high, and our friend Russell could easily enter it without stoop- ing. He entered thus the great fire-place, and looked around, holding his torch so as to light up the interior. Below, there was the pavement of stone, which seemed solid and immovable; above, the chimney arose far on high, and through the wide opening the sky overhead was plainly vis- ible, with its glittering stars. Now, as Russell stood peering about, he noticed something in the construction of the chimney which struck him as rathei~ peculiar, and this was several stones on the left side which projected from the wall, and were placed one above another. The arrangement was so singular that it at once arrested his attention, and being in search of a hiding-place for his trea- sure, he could not avoid examining it fur- ther with keener interest. This arrange- ment of the stones one above another was suggestive of climbing. They seemed in- tended for steps, and he therefore peered upward more curiously to see how far these steps continued, and what was the end. Looking thus upward, he noticed on one side what seemed like a niche in the chimney wall. It was so formed that it was not visible unless one were stand- ing deep inside the chimney and looking up for it, and it seemed to be deep and spacious. No sooner had he caught sight of this niche than he determined to inves- tigate it farther. For a few moments he paused to see whether Harry was still 48 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. asleep or not, and then, being satisfied on this point, he began to climb up. So nice- ly were the stones adjusted that this was easy even to an inactive and heavy man like him, and after ascending three steps he stood and peered into the niche. It seemed quite deep. He could not see any end to it, or any terminating wall. What the design of it was he could not imagine. IHe saw, however, that it afforded an ad- mirable place of concealment for his trea- sure, and he determined at once to avail himself of it. Here he thought it would be secure from discovery, and it might re- main here undetected and unharmed for any length of time. As for fire, it was not likely that the chimney was ever used; but even if it were, there was scarcely any possibility that the flames could affect any- thing in this deep niche. Russell now took from his pocket a bulky parcel, and leaning far inside the niche, he laid it carefully down. Then he held up the torch, and allowed its light to fall into the niche, so as to see that all was secure; after which, feeling fully sat- isfied with his work, and experiencing a great sense of relief, he descended from his perch. Shortly after he extinguished the torch, and then, stretching himself out on the bed beside Harry, he resigned himself to oblivion. CHAPTER XV. IN WHICH RUSSELL UNDERGOES AN EXAMINATION. EARLY on the following morning Rus- sell was roused from sleep by a messen- ger, who made a peremptory demand for him to rise and follow. Harry explained that he was wanted by the Carlist chief for examination, and reproached him for not having concealed the bonds the pre- vious night; at which reproachful words Russell showed no signs of dejection, as Harry had expected, but on the contrary, to his amazement, seemed to have upon his face a slight air of triumph, regarding him with a self-satisfied smile and a cun- ning leer which puzzled him greatly. This strange and unexpected change in Russell from terror and despair to peace of mind and jocularity was a puzzle over which Harry racked his brains for some time, but to no purpose. Meanwhile Russell was led away. He didnt take up any time with his toilet, for the unfortunate man saw nothing with which he could even wash his face. However, he made no complaint, and for a very good reason, since he could not speak a word of Spanish; and, moreover, he still felt so joyful over his conceal- ment of the treasure that he was able to bear with considerable equanimity all the lesser ills of life. In a few minutes he found himself ush- ered into the presence of the Carlist chief. The latter was seated upon a chest, over which some rugs were spread. Another chest was also there, upon which he sign- ed to Russell to be seated. Ye doesnt spake Spanish ? said the chief. At these words Russell started and stared in surprise. The words were Eng- lish, with an accent that was not altogeth- er unfamiliar to him. It seemed a good omen. Do you speak English ? Russell ex- claimed. A throifie, said the chief. I had a frind that learned me a few sintincis av it; so I doesnt moind spakin it, as it 11 be more convaynient for both av us. Ye must know, thin, that in the first place, I lamint the necessichood that compils me to arrest the bikes av you, but Ive got arders from me military shupariors, an Ive got to obey thim, so I have. Its no use protistin, for Im only an agint. So Id bike yez to be honest wid me, an Ill be the same wid you. Why, you speak English first-rate in fact splendid, said the delighted Rus- sell. I never heard a foreigner speak it so well before. Sure an its aisy enough, said the chief; as aisy as dhrinkin, whin ye have practice. Ive got a farm accint, av coorse, but thats nayther here nor there. Russell thought that his accent had a little smack of Irish about it, and wonder- ed whether all Spaniards spoke English like that. Yell excuse me, said the chief, if I have to ax you a few throiflin interroga- tions for farrums sake. Ill now begin. What is your name ? Russell. Russellahl What profession ? A gentleman, said Russell, somewhat pompously. A gintleman, eh? An ye live on yer own money l A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 49 Of course. Thats right, said the chief, with deep satisfaction. Its meseif thats the proud man this day to meet wid the bikes av you thats got an indepindint fartune, an can call his sowi his own. An have yez been long in Spain, thin ? No; only a couple of months. Thravellin for plisure, av coorse? in- sinuated the chief. Yes; I wanted to take a run through the Continent, said Russell, in a grand- iose way, as though the Continent was something belonging to him; and Im also bringing home with me a ward of mineMiss Westlotorn. Ah! an so the young lady is a ward av yours? I thought she was your daugh- ter. No; shes my ward. Is she rich ? Well, sir, shes comfortable; shes worth about fifty thousand pounds ster- ling. Now I dont call that rich; I only call it comfortable. An what do yez call rich ? asked the chief, in a tender voice, full of affection- ate interest. Well, a couple of hundred thousand pounds or so. You see, when I was worth fifty thousand I thought I was somebody, but I soon learned how paltry an amount that is. No, sir; two hundred thousand pounds are necessary to make a rich man, and not a penny less, sirnot a penny, sir. Thims me own sintimints intirely, said the chief; that shuits me, so it does. I saw by the cut av yez that ye must be a millionaire at laste, so I did. A millionaire ! said Russell, with af- fected modesty. Well, you know, in England thats a big word; but I suppose here in Spain, or anywhere on the Conti- nent, I might be called one. I suppose, said the chief, after a pause, that yeve got an ixtinsive ac- juaintince wid the nobility an gintry an all thim fellers ? Yes, said Russell, I have; and not in England only, but throughout the Con- tinent. Not that I think much of the Continental nobility. Between you and me, I think theyre a beggarly lot. Thrue for you, said the chief. Thims me own sintimints. Why, sir, continued Russell, who ev- idently thought he was making a deep im- pression, and so went on all the more in his vainglorious boastings, some of these here Continental nobility aint worth a brass farthing. Why, sir, theres lots of respectable English merchants tailors, for instance and other quiet, unassum- ing gentlemen, who could buy out these Continental nobles, out and out, over and over again. Divil a doubt av that same ! said the chief. Ye know how to ixpriss your- self wid very shuitable sintimints. Id like to know more av you. I suppose yeve got a passport ? A passport ? said Russell. Well, yes, I believe I did get one ; and fum- bling in his pocket he succeeded in bring- ing to light that important document. This the chief took, and without opening it put it in his own pocket. Ill take a luk at it prisintly, said he. Perhaps ye can tell me about yer frind, the young man thats wid yez. Is he yer son ? Son? Oh no; but hes a doosed fine young feller. His names Rivers. Is he rich ? Well, hes pretty comfortable, I think. Hes in the wine and fruit business, and has an agency at Barcelona. Sure an its meself thats glad to hear that same, said the chief. An can ye tell me annything about that other young man that was shtrivin to join yer party ? That fellowhis names Ashby. Ashby, is it ? Yes, and the greatest scoundrel that ever liveda miserable fortunehunter, trying to inveigle my ward into a mar- riage. I came here barely in time to save her. And the only object the infernal scoundrel has now in sneaking after me is to try and get hold of her and get her from me. But hell find hes got pretty tough work before him. Hes got me to deal with this time. Is the young gyerrul fond av him ? asked the chief, in a tone of deep anxiety. She? Fond of him? Pooh! Non- sense! Shes like all girlslikes to have attentions paid her, thats all; and so this poor fool thought she would marry him. Why, the mans an ass. But I guess hes had enough of chasing her by this time. By Jove! theres some satisfaction, after all, in being caught this way, since hes caught too. Some further conversation followed of the same kind. Russell continued to in- dulge in a strain of self-glorification, and 50 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. the chief to ask him questions. By yield- ing to his silly vanity Russell was prepar- ing the way for results which he little ex- pected. Little did he dream of what was soon to disclose itself. He thought that he was impressing the mind of the Carlist chief with ideas of the greatness, grand- eur, power, wealth, and glory of the cele- brated Russell whom he had made his prisoner, and hoped in this way to over- awe his captor so as to secure good treat- ment, or even to terrify him into letting him go. He little knew that the chief re- garded him merely as a bird to be pluck- ed. In his eyes, the more the feathers the greater the yield. The moment the chief found that his prisoner professed to be a millionaire, that moment the fate of Russell and his party was sealed. The ef- fect upon the chief was already manifest in part, for every moment he grew more courteous in his manner. Sure its meself, said be at length, thats bothered about the accommoda- tions ye have. Its a cowld, damp room that, an no furniture at all at all. Yes, said Russell, it is rather rough; and for a man thats accustomed to high living and luxurious surround- ings its very bad. Im dreadful afraid of rheumatiz. Dont spake another word about it, said the chief, briskly. Ill find ye an- other room where yell be as comfortable as the Quane av England. Yell have as good a bed as the best. This sudden offer startled Russell and excited dreadful apprehensions. What would become of his bonds? He hasten- ed now to modify his last words. Oh, well, said he, for that matter, you neednt trouble yourself. I dare say I shall do very well where I am. Oh, sure yere too modest, so ye are, said the chief. But niver ye moind lave it all to me. Ill fix it for ye. Russell was in deep dejection and anx- iety, yet he felt afraid to press the mat- ter too eagerly. To be taken away from the vicinity of his treasure was indeed a crushing blow, yet he dared not object too strongly lest the chief might suspect something. So he could only submit with the best grace possible under the cir- cuinstances, and find faint consolation in the thought that the treasure was at least secure. After a brief silence the chief resumed: Its pained I am, so I am, to trouble a gintleman av fartune, but Im undher the onplisint naycissichood av subjictin ye to a further examination. Its a mite on- plisint at first, but its nothin whin yere used to it. Another examination ? repeated Rus- sell, with no little uneasiness. What is that ? Oh, its only an examination av yer apparel, yer clothes, bit by bit. My clothes ? Yesto gyard against annything be- in concailed about ye. But I have nothing concealed, on my honor. At this the chief waved his hands dep- recatingly. Hush! said he. Whisht, will ye dont I know it? begorra meself does. Its all a mere farrum. Its a laygal inact- mint that Ive got to follow. Discipline must be kept up. Sure an if I didnt. obey the law meself first an foremost, me own mm ud all revolt against me, an thin whered I be? But it 11 not be anny- thin. Sure to glory manny s the fine man Ive shtripped, an him none the worse for~ it. So go ahead, fool, an the sooner ye begin, tbe sooner it 11 be over. II dont seeII dont know stammered Russell. Arrah, sure to glory, its as aisy as wink. Begin where ye are. What, here ? cried Russell, aghast. Yis. Undress here ? Av coorse. But but maynt I have a private room But ye maynt, for ye moight con cail somethin. Yeve got to ondress be- fore the examinin committeethats me. Sometimes its done in the prisince av a. committee av the wholethats the whole rigiment av us; but this time, out av jue respict for ye an considherations av de- carrum, Ive farrumed a committee av one. But what other clothes may I put on asked Russell, ruefully. Sure an Ive got a fine shuit for ye. I dont see any.~~ Oh, theyre handy enough to here: theyre in the next room, quite convayn- ient, and Ill let ye have thim afther ye get these off. Russell stood still in deep gloom and de- spondency. All his finest feelings were outraged beyond description at this pro-- A CASTLE IN SPAIN. 51 posal. The chief, however, sat calm and chief, who, however, only responded with smiling, as though quite unconscious of an impatient gesture. Thereupon Russell any evil intent, took off his waistcoat. Another appeal- Come, said he, hurry up I ing glance was then thrown at the chief, There was no help for it. He was clear- who only responded by a gesture more ly in this mans power. It was a dreadful impatient than before. thought; yet he had to obey. ~Come, said he, be quick! Ye see, So he took off his cravat. This he did slowly and solemnly, as though preparing to bare his neck for the axe of the execu- tioner. Come, make haste, said the chief. Ive only got a few minutes to spare; an if ye cant chauge yer clothes before me alone, why, Ill have to go off, an thin yell have half a dozen av thim up here at ye. And must I ? moaned the unhappy man. Av coorse, said the chief. An what is it all ? Sure its nothin at all at all, so it isnt. Russell gave a heavy sigh, and then taking off his coat he laid it on the floor. Then he cast an appealing glance at the vOL. LxvmNo. 397,4 ye may have no md av valable docky- mints stitched in between the lining av yer clothesIve often knowed that same. Begorra, we get more in that way that we find stitched in the clothes, than we do from the wallets an the opin conthribu- tions. But I havent anything stitched be- tween my clothes. So ye say, an so Im bound to believe, said the chief. Sure I wouldnt for the wurruld be afther hintin that ye iver spake annything but the truth. Howandiver, Ill tell ye somethin. Ye see, I was standin at the dure av yer room last night by the marest accidint, an I happened to overhear a confabulation between you an Rivers. An ye know what ye towld him, an ye / I 1~l. -~ AN 50, 1 SAY, YELL HAVE TO LOOK ON TRIM GIN~ RAL 5 CLOTHES AS VER OWN. 52 HARPER$ NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. know what he said to you. Ye said some- thin about havin Spanish bondsto the chune av thirty thousand poundsin yer pocket, or about ye somewhere, an ye wanted some place to hide it, an Rivers advised ye to have it stitched in yer clothes. Now I scorrun avesdhroppin, so I does, but when infarrumation av that kind comes free to yer ears, yere hound to get the good ax- it. An so Im goin to instichoot an invistigation over yer clothes, an over yer room, an over yer thrunks, an over everythin yeve got, an Im not goin to rist till Ive got thim bonds. Oh, ye nadent say annythingI can see it all in yer face. Theres nothin to say. I dont expect ye to own up an hand over the money. Im contint to hunt it up me- selfthat is, for the prisint. Ye see, its mine, for it belongs to his Ryal Majesty Carlos, King av Spain. The bonds are is- sued by Spain, an as he is King ax- Spain he owns thim bonds. If ye was a native Spaniard yed give thim up out av pure loyalty, but as yere a farrner, why, ax- coorse ye cant be ixpicted to deny yerself to such an ixtint. At this astounding disclosure Russell was struck dumb. So, then, his secret was betrayed, and in the most dangerous quar- ter, and, worst of all, by his own folly! Once or twice he was about to speak, but the chief checked him, and he himself was only too well aware of the utter futility of any denial or of any attempt to explain away what the chief had overheard. Only one consolation now remained, and that was the hope that the chief might not find the bonds. The place in which he had hid- den them seemed to him to be very much out of the way of an ordinary search, and not at all likely to be explored by any one. At length Russell had finished his task, and ha4 divested himself of everything, his remorseless captor insisting on his leaving nothing; and so he stood shiver- ing and crouching on the stone floor. Now, said the chief, walk in there. Ill follow. He pointed to a passageway on the left, which led to an apartment beyond. At his gesture Russell slunk away in that direction, while the chief, gathering all the clothes up in a bundle, followed. On reaching the apartment Russell saw some garments lying spread out on a bench. They were quite new, and consisted of a military uniform profusely decorated with gold-lace. Everything was there complete. There, said the chief, thim clothes. belonged to a frind av mine whose ac- quaintince I made a month ago. He left these here an wint away in another shuit just as yell lave yer clothes an go away, as I thrust, in these. Put thim on now, as soon as ye bike. Yell find thim a fine fit, an theyre, an excillint matayrial. The frind that left thim was a giniral officer, and be the same tokin that same man swore more, an faster, an louder, an deep- er, than anny man I iver met with afore or since. While the affable chief was thus talk- ing, Russell proceeded to array himself in the generals uniform. Everything wa~ there complete, from top to toe, and every- thing was of the very best qualityrichest. gold-lace, glittering epaulets, stripes and bands that dazzled the eye, buttons and chains of splendor indescribable, hat with gorgeous plumage, sword of magnificent. decoration, attached to a belt that a king might choose to wear. All these delight- ed the soul of Russell, but not least of all the cloth, whose softness and exquisite fineness appealed to his professional feel- ings, and caused his fingers to wauder lovingly over the costly fabric. Soon he had completed the task of dress- ing himself, and once more stood erect in all the dignity of manhood. Begorra ! said the chief, yed ought. to be grateful to me for makin ye put on thim clothes. Ye look bike a comman- dher-in-chafe, so ye dobike the Juke ax- Wellington himself. The clothes fit y& bike a glove. I nix-er saw a betther. fit nix-er. Ye must put on yer sword an belt, so as to give a finish to it all, and with these words he handed Russell th& weapon of war. Russell took it with evi- dent pleasure, and fastened it about his. waist. The chief made him walk up and down, and complimented him so strongly that the prisoner in his new delight al- most forgot the woes of captivity. The chief now prepared to retire. Pointing to Russells clothes, which he had kept all the time rolled up in a bun- dle tucked under one arm, he shook his head meditatively and said, Itll be a long job Ill be havin wid these. Why so ? asked Russell. Sure its the examinin that Ive got to. do, said the chief. Ginrally we exam- ine thim by stickin pins through every part, but in yer case theres thirty thou- INDIAN ART IN METAL AND WOOD. 53 sand pounds stowed away somewhere, an Im goin meseif to rip every stitch apart. Afther Ive done wid my search through thim clothes, it isnt loikely that anny one in this castle 11 iver be able to put thim together again. To do that same ud nade a profissional tailor wid a crayative janius, so it would. An so, I say, yell have to look on thim ginrals clothes as yer own; an whin ye get free, as I hope yell be soon, ye may wear thim away home wid ye, an take my blessin wid ye. More- over, yell have to kape this room. Ill spind this day in examinin yer clothes, an to-morrow Ill examine the other room. The bonds 11 kape till thin, as I know ye havent towld Rivers annything about what ye done wid thim. With these words the chief retired, and locked the door after him. INDIAN ART IN METAL AND WOOD. AN art student resident in India might perhaps be forgiven if he replied with a touch of petulance to an inquiry as to how far its craftsmanship is now available for the uses of Western civiliza- tion and luxury. Your eclectic schools, he might say, having exhausted Clas- sic, Medkeval, and Renaissance art, found piquancy and freshness in the quaint fan- cies and exquisite workmanship of China and Japan, and now, grown tired of their toys, would fain add Indian art also to the fashions that pass away in your rest- less world. This would be an unreason- able answer to a most reasonable question, but that a reflection of this kind should be possible indicates the first and most im- portant quality of Eastern artits unity of character. In the presence of a still living system of decoration which inher- its its code of design in direct succession, its comparative fixity and permanence, its perfect union with the life of the people, and a mysterious quality of organic fit- ness to the varying aspects of the coun- try impress the mind with a force that can not be appreciated by those who have not lived in India. The best of these qualities are incapa- ble of exportation, and no selection of its workmanship could convey an adequate idea of the peculiar genius and character of the Indian people. Scarcely so much as this is asked for. A brick may not give a fair representation of the house from which it is taken, but, since bricks are in demand, let them be given, by all means. Nor need the sentimental reflec- tion that while it is possible to export a shawl or a cabinet, we can not put up into any marketable shape the niystery and glamour of the East, hinder us from the attempt to make some of its productions better known. The subject has a pathetic interest from the fact that some of the arts of the coun- try, being accessories of priestly and feud- al systems now crumbling slowly away, are dying out, while others are suffering from competition with the machine-made products of Europe. The picturesque pessimism which is the key-note of some modern art criticism has been heard in dirges over the grave of Indian art, and has, indeed, passionately accused the Brit- ish government of its willful murder. No one is half so zealous for a creed as a new convert, and the good people in Eng- land who have at last awakened to the grievous spectacle of the decay of Indian art forget that it has been going on since before the time of Aurungzebe, and that it is only one phase of an organic change which has for many years been creeping over the countrya change over which conscious human effort can have but lit- tle more control than over the fading of the rainbow or the decay of the forest tree. The heaped-up splendors of the In- dia museum, the spoil of many periods, have given an exaggerated idea of the ar- tistic wealth of the land, and some writers have formed an ideal picture of a halcyon time when the hid treasures of princes palaces were common in every bazar. The young Aryan of the present day looks back to a past like that described in Mr. Edwin Arnolds Light of Asia, when life was uniformly beautiful and adorned with every grace of art. The remains of ancient Hindu cities testify to the exist- ence of centres of civilization, but it seems probable that these were few, and separa- ted by wide intervals, both of time and space. In the Hindu epics it is notice- able that when once the heroes of the story pass the city walls, they are in open forest, where they wander for years. Mod- ern inquirers, seeing the remains of the Yuzufzai Valley, of Hallibeed, Kanauj,

INDIAN ART IN METAL AND WOOD. 53 sand pounds stowed away somewhere, an Im goin meseif to rip every stitch apart. Afther Ive done wid my search through thim clothes, it isnt loikely that anny one in this castle 11 iver be able to put thim together again. To do that same ud nade a profissional tailor wid a crayative janius, so it would. An so, I say, yell have to look on thim ginrals clothes as yer own; an whin ye get free, as I hope yell be soon, ye may wear thim away home wid ye, an take my blessin wid ye. More- over, yell have to kape this room. Ill spind this day in examinin yer clothes, an to-morrow Ill examine the other room. The bonds 11 kape till thin, as I know ye havent towld Rivers annything about what ye done wid thim. With these words the chief retired, and locked the door after him. INDIAN ART IN METAL AND WOOD. AN art student resident in India might perhaps be forgiven if he replied with a touch of petulance to an inquiry as to how far its craftsmanship is now available for the uses of Western civiliza- tion and luxury. Your eclectic schools, he might say, having exhausted Clas- sic, Medkeval, and Renaissance art, found piquancy and freshness in the quaint fan- cies and exquisite workmanship of China and Japan, and now, grown tired of their toys, would fain add Indian art also to the fashions that pass away in your rest- less world. This would be an unreason- able answer to a most reasonable question, but that a reflection of this kind should be possible indicates the first and most im- portant quality of Eastern artits unity of character. In the presence of a still living system of decoration which inher- its its code of design in direct succession, its comparative fixity and permanence, its perfect union with the life of the people, and a mysterious quality of organic fit- ness to the varying aspects of the coun- try impress the mind with a force that can not be appreciated by those who have not lived in India. The best of these qualities are incapa- ble of exportation, and no selection of its workmanship could convey an adequate idea of the peculiar genius and character of the Indian people. Scarcely so much as this is asked for. A brick may not give a fair representation of the house from which it is taken, but, since bricks are in demand, let them be given, by all means. Nor need the sentimental reflec- tion that while it is possible to export a shawl or a cabinet, we can not put up into any marketable shape the niystery and glamour of the East, hinder us from the attempt to make some of its productions better known. The subject has a pathetic interest from the fact that some of the arts of the coun- try, being accessories of priestly and feud- al systems now crumbling slowly away, are dying out, while others are suffering from competition with the machine-made products of Europe. The picturesque pessimism which is the key-note of some modern art criticism has been heard in dirges over the grave of Indian art, and has, indeed, passionately accused the Brit- ish government of its willful murder. No one is half so zealous for a creed as a new convert, and the good people in Eng- land who have at last awakened to the grievous spectacle of the decay of Indian art forget that it has been going on since before the time of Aurungzebe, and that it is only one phase of an organic change which has for many years been creeping over the countrya change over which conscious human effort can have but lit- tle more control than over the fading of the rainbow or the decay of the forest tree. The heaped-up splendors of the In- dia museum, the spoil of many periods, have given an exaggerated idea of the ar- tistic wealth of the land, and some writers have formed an ideal picture of a halcyon time when the hid treasures of princes palaces were common in every bazar. The young Aryan of the present day looks back to a past like that described in Mr. Edwin Arnolds Light of Asia, when life was uniformly beautiful and adorned with every grace of art. The remains of ancient Hindu cities testify to the exist- ence of centres of civilization, but it seems probable that these were few, and separa- ted by wide intervals, both of time and space. In the Hindu epics it is notice- able that when once the heroes of the story pass the city walls, they are in open forest, where they wander for years. Mod- ern inquirers, seeing the remains of the Yuzufzai Valley, of Hallibeed, Kanauj, 54 HARPER$ NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. Gaur, Bijapur, and Fatehpur Sikri, are apt to forget that each belongs to a dif- ferent epoch in a vast period. And when they charge the British government with destroying Oriental art they ignore such causes as the spiritual degradation of Hin- duism and the decay of the Mohammedan power, both of which are far out of the reach of any government control.. It is clear nothing can restore the pristine ear- nestness and faith of the older days, nor the despotisms which kept thousands of skillful craftsmen in worse than Egyp- tian bondage, nor the whips that were freely used to stimulate dilatory artists. A milder rule has replaced this tyranny, while faith is being undermined by the spread of education. Unfortunately civilization and improve- ment are associated in the Oriental mind with a notion of art of which the Anglo- Indian drawing-room furnishes a fair ex- ample. In those seen by native Chris- tians and educated Hindus there are to be found the usual chimney ornaments and furniture of excellent missionaries and others who have not time to think of ar- tistic refinement, with the invariable ad- dition of much crochet and Berlin-wool work, taught with praiseworthy intent to. native ladies.* If zenana missions have done nothing else, they have naturalized the woful industry of Berlin wool. It seems hopeless to contend against a deg- radation of taste, of which this is but one example, so oddly allied with quite admi- rable and indeed noble intentions. But although much of the most precious part of Indian art has vanished as completely as the snows of yester-year, there still re- mains far more than some critics would have us think. Nor is it altogether Uto- pian to believe that causes now operating, such as the care and pains given by gov- ernment to the preservation and illustra- tion of its ancient monuments, the study by eminent native scholars of its antiqui- ties, and the serious respect displayed to- ward indigenous art by Europeans of the highest station, may result in some not altogether unworthy echoes of the past. In the world of letters a revival of Orient- al scholarship in its ancient seat is dis * There are exceptions in this matter. The late Mrs. Winter, of the American Mission at Delhi, suc- cessfully taught embroidery based on native mod- els to the girls of her industrial schoolan exam- ple which might well be followed by all missionary schools. tinctly traceable to the reaction of the la- bors of Western scholars; and although craftsmen may not be so easily accessible as bookmen, they are now, as always, plastic and ready to respond to a sympa- thetic touch. Broadly, it seems fair to say that if good Indian work is sincerely wanted, it will be forth-coming. In America it is thought possible that this interesting variety of art may succeed to the place in popular favor now held by Chinese and Japanese importations. The differences between Mongolian work and Indian are strongly marked. The Jap- anese, though bound by tradition as to manner and treatment, often goes direct to nature for his details. He is less bound to the precedents set by architectural style than the Indian, and can give free play to a brighter and more humorous fancy, al- lied to more exquisite delicacy of execu- tion. The Indian ornamentist habitual- ly recurs to architectonic forms as the groundwork of his design. Within the bounding lines and frame - work thus se- cured he traces ornaments full of variety of line, perfectly distributed as to quantity, but only remotely referring to the forms of nature. Geometrical symmetry and balance, which the Japanese seems to take a gay delight in avoiding by a thousand unexpected turns of fantasy, are accepted by the Indian as organic necessities of art. The spider-like application which, seeming to seek no help from the exter- nal world, results in so varied and yet so even a distribution of graceful and richly colored forms, whose general effect is of unsurpassable fullness and richness, is the most striking feature of the Indians work. Probably the invariable quality of repose in variety, of subtlety in simplicity, is due in part to the influence of the geometrical arabesque of Mohammedan art. But the decorative styles of India have received impulses from other sources besides Mo- hammedan invaders. And while preserv- ing unbroken lines of succession they have passed through more complex stages to a nobler development than in the further East. The result is a sobriety, correctness, and dignity not now to be found in Mon- golian productions. The affinity of much of the Turanian and Dravidian art of Southern India with that of China and Japan is obvious, and, geographically speaking, the broad ethnological division between Aryan and Turanian is strongly marked. In architecture this division is INDIAN ART IN METAL AND WOOD. 55 especially noticeable. But in the minor arts of life a fusion has taken place, the Turanian branch seems to have lost its vital force, and since there was much in both of a common origin, it is not easy to trace the parts of the homogeneous whole presented by the Indian design of to-day. Religion, still more than ethnology, must be taken into account in considering this subject. Buddhism, if it did not preside at its very birth and origin, has left an ineffaceable mark upon Indian art, and has to some extent overridden race dis- tinctions; for its forms and symbols have been accepted with marvellous unanimity, from the Greek-inspired sculptures of the Cabul frontier, through India to Java and Ceylon, across Central Asia to China and Japan. The direction of its march is now less important than the obvious signs of its triumph. A modern Japanese artist when he paints a sacred picture comes curiously near to the Aryan designers of the frescoes of the Ajanta caves in the Deccan. It is scarcely necessary to remark that, like Japanese and other Oriental styles, Indian art is of a comparatively low in- tellectual level, aiming more to please the eye than to teach the miiid or touch the heart. Hundreds of clever literary peo- ple hunting for suggestions and sermons have brought it to this pass that some cultivated folk look only for anecdote, his- tory, passion, and drama in art, and esti- mate it only as it is burdened with the lesson of the book. Whether it is fair to apply this bookish canon to a conception KOFT (DAMASCENED) SHIELD, MODERN, PUNJAB. 56 HAIRPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. AFT~BA (WATER VESSEL), COPPER TINNED, FROM PESITAWUR. of ai t so fundamentally opposed to that of Europe is too large a question for dis- cussion here. It will be seen that the historical side of the subject is a large and difficult one. Learned scholars are still contending as to the original founts of inspiration, and the task of apportioning to Greek, Bactrian, Byzantine, Persian, Arab, Tartar, Mogul, Ghorian, and the rest, his exact share in building up the art we know to-day, may be left in their hands. The Indian alpha- bet itself is now said to be foreign; and in a paper supporting this view a distin- guished scholar makes a remark which to those who know the country will ap- pear a mere truism, but which expresses fairly enough a consideration not suffi- ciently taken into account. We con- stantly find in India that something f or- eign imported into the country is made to assume native Indian forms, and disguised so cleverly that one would swear it was a native invention. It would be better to say completely as- similated than cleverly dis- guised, for while Indian races are soft as wax to receive im- pressions from foreign sources, they absorb and fuse them into a harmonious unity which, as already remarked, is the most striking characteristic of their work. Sir George Birdwood, indeed, has boldly declared that the arts of India are the illus- tration of the religious life of the Hindus as that life was al- ready organized in full perfec- tion under the code of Menu, nc. 900. This generalization is simple, but it omits very much that ought to be taken into con- sideration. The arts of Hindu- stan proper and of Northern In- dia are not so much illustra- tions of Hindu religious life as evidences of Mohammedan dom- ination, and of the docility with which distinctly anti - Hindu ideas were accepted and natu- ralized. The well-known Taj Mahal at Agra is a late exam- ple of Moslem architecture, and it succeeded buildings intrinsic- ally better in design which may be taken broadly as the predom- inant type of Northern Indian art. In many of these but little of the Hindu may be traced-save the patient la- bor of his vassal hand. The distinction between Hindu and Mo- hammedan remains in art and craftsman- ship, as also, unhappily. in race antipathy the most striking feature of the subject. Certain crafts in the hands of the latter are treated in accordance with Mogul or Persian tradition, while others, preserved by the curious caste system of the Hindus, can claim kinship to older Turanian or Indo-Aryan originals. These distinctions, however, though it is necessary to bear them in mind, are not invariable, and are not always easily traced. The potters who make glazed ware are Mohammedan, for their craft was originally an accessory of that Mogul magnificence which covered the domes and lined the walls of tombs INDIAN ART IN METAL AND WOOD. 57 and mosques with a splendid mosaic of enamelled tile-work. The village potter, who forms one of the units of the Hindu commune each of whom has fixed duties and claims, and who only makes unglazed ware, is a Hin- du. The potters craft is in some respects an exception to the rule of decay, and a distinct revival and extension of the art of making glazed ware is taking place. Carpet-weaving, where it subsists as an independent craft, is Mohammedan, and the weavers of Wurrungal and other places in Southern Indialittle colonies among populations of Hindus, claim Per- sian descent, which certainly can be al- lowed to their patterns. Armorers, dam- asceners, sword-cutlers, and gun-makers are Mohammedan, but the village black- smith who makes the hoe and the reap- ing - hook is generally a Hindu. The gold-embroiderers, gilt-wire and gold-lace makers of the prosperous northern cities of Amritza and Delhi are usually Mo- hammedan, as also are shawl-weavers and kindred embroidery crafts of Persian de scent. In Madras also and the central provinces, where this beautiful art is wan- ing, poor Mohaminedans feebly keep alive the traditions of splendid stuffs once wrought for luxurious Mohammedan princes. Stone-masons and carvers in Guzerat, Central India, IRa.jputana, and in some districts of the northwest prov- inces where purely Hindu buildings are still raised, are Hindus. There are a few Mohammedan stone carvers in Delhi and Northern India who preserve Mogul can- ons which also greatly modify modern Hindu styles, such as the Jam architect- ure of Rajputana. The inlay wrought at Agra, of agate, jasper, carnelian, blood- stone, etc., in white Jeypoor marble, is now in the hands of Hindus chiefly, al- though an art of Mussulman origin. The miniature painters of Dcliii are all Mo- hammedan, as lax in their respect for the precepts of Islam as their Persian progen- itors. Many ordinary handicrafts are prac- ticed by both creeds, such as carpentry, ordinary weaving (in silk weaving Mus GUNGA S~(GAR (WATER VESSEL), BRASS, JIIELUM. HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. sulmans preponderate), the coppersmiths and braziers trades, wherein Hindus are in the majority. The comparatively re- cently introduced tinsmiths trade seems to be reserved to Mohammedans per- haps because of the necessity of handling vessels unclean from cooking, which is re- pugnant to the Hindu. Seal-engraving, an important craft in India, is a peculiar- ly Mohammedan art. Even in ordinary trades, practiced by both, distinctions may be traced. Thus a copper or brazen wa- ter vessel in the hands of a Moslem arti- ficer becomes Persian in name and char acter Aftciba, graceful and elegant; while the Hindu brazier makes it useful and quaint, and piously calls it Gunga Sdgar, after the sacred river. Brass is invariably used by Hindus, while Mo- hammedans affect tinned copper. Taking metal first, it should not be dif flcnlt to show that there is still good de- sign in the land. Unfortnnately, objects handy for exportation and suited to West- ern uses are the first to show the deteri- oration complained of. A native metal chaser when at work on articles for home use proceeds in a perfectly simple and ra- tional way, fitting the scrolls, leaves, or grotesque creatures of his decorative r& - pertoire with consummate propriety and tranquil certainty of hand to hooka. bowls, water vessels, rose- water sprinklers, and the likeobjects of definite and accustomed uses, and of -~ forms that only vary in ~ subtlety of line, and are never tortured by willful efforts to attain mere nov- elty. For these, however, Western folk have but lit- tle use. They demand from him tea - pots, cream - jugs, race - cups, and vasesa terrible word, meaning a hundred shapes, from the Itali~n alabaster horror BRASS ORNAMENTAL CHAINS, MODERN, GUzERAT. LOTA (DRINKING VESSzL), OLD BRASS, HINDU. INDIAN ART IN METAL AND WOOD. three feet high to the opal and ruby Bo- hemian-glass chimney ornament. So he is shown English silversmiths and elec- troplaters illustrated catalogues. These come with the sanction of finer print and paper than the Indian workman has ever seen; and being English, have an author- ity which only those who have tried to explain their real worthlessness to the na- tive can understand. These, it is plain, are disturbing influences, and the problem of fulfilling Western uses without losing the Oriental spirit can only be satisfac- torily solved by the improved cultivation and taste of Western buyers. Since natives almost invariably use brass or copper for culinary, domestic, and sacrificial purposes, the coppersmiths trade, with the attendant crafts of casting, beaten or repoussi work, and chasing, is universally practiced. It may be noted that very little engraving, in the Western seuse of the word, is done in India as a means of decoration, and the fine meagre lines on perfectly true, hard surfaces, the pride of European workmen, are compar- atively unknown, since the graver, or bu- rin, held underhand, cutting a clean line from which the burr is scraped, is not used. The hammer, punch, and chisel produce a bolder, simpler, and more ef- fective decoration. An illustration gives some of the forms of older brass-ware, but their peculiarly pleasant, waxy surface is scarcely translatable in black and white. LOTA (DRINKING VESSEL), SILVER INCRUSTATION ON COPPER, TANJORE. The most popularly known variety of this work as a commercial product is the Be- nares ware, largely produced for a not very intelligent market. The entire surface is covered with grotesque figures and foliage, boldly chased and highly pol- ished. The forms are very va- rious, but the prodigality of thoughtless labor, which leaves no morsel of skillfully contrast- ed plain field, ends by being tire- some. In this case as in other branches of industry the Hindu middle-men and dealers, who, like all the clerkly races of Hindus, such as Bengali ha- boos, khutriyas, etc., are curi- ously indifferent to art, care only that there shall be plenty work on the wares they sell. The truth is that better brass- work than that of Benares can be had in several large towns, especially at Ahmedabad, in Guzerat; while scattered over the country are artificers who I SACRIFICIAL SPOONS, OLD BRASS, HINDU. ~3O HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. make lamps, antimony bottles, iman es, served in places, and polished to a perfect- caskets, sacrificial spoons, etc., in purely ly smooth surface is one of the most fa- Hindu taste, using elephants, birds, ani- miliar and highly finished forms of In- mals, and grotesque divinities in the fash- dian metal-work. It is really a revival, ioning of these pleasantly quaint and in- and owes much to the fostering care of teresting objects. a member of the government, and of a a. Bidree nooka, silver on black metal, modern. b. Afifiba (water vessel), slyab kalambari, Moradabad. c. Gulab-pash (rose-water sprinkler), slyali kalambari, Moradabad. The siyah kalambari, a sort of niello native gentleman of position. The pat- made at Moradabad (northwest provinces), terns show the usual modern tendency to where deep graving in brass is filled with excessive minuteness, and mechanical fin- a hard black composition, and then tinned ish is perhaps niore considered than vane- ~r silvered, with sometimes the brass re- ty of design. But the art is capable of ex a b C INDIAN ART IN METAL AND WOOD. 61 tended application, and its means are so simple that it will be difficult to vulgarize it. Obviously it must be very bad orna- ment indeed to offend the eye when deli- cately traced in silver and gold on a ground of pure black. An older method of decorative metal worksilver inlaid in a black material resembling pewter, but much harderis known as Bidree ware, from the old Mo- hainmedan town of Beder, where it is be- lieved to have originated. The pattern and not the ground is here graven and channelled, and tiny plates and wires of silver cut to shape with scissors are ham- mered into the forms, the final polish- ing resulting in a silver mosaic on a fin e-toned mat black, which, however, is scarcely black. Formerly the designs were bold as well as delicate, and portions of the dark field were left, while now an equal distribution is aimed at. Both no- tions are sound enough, but the exclusive practice of the latter gives the work an air of monotony. Hyderabad, in the Deccan, is the modern seat of this manufacture, but it is also practiced at Lucknow. In Southern India, at Tanjore and Ma- dura, copper vessels, trays, etc., incrusted with silver cut in the forms of fishes ani- mals, flowers, and ornaments of distinct- ly Turanian character, are produced. The silver is worked in thicker pieces than seems necessary to the effect, and when new the contrast between the red copper ingthe incrustation of gold and silver and the white silver is more pronounced wire on steel. Following the invariable than pleasing. tendency of Iiidian crafts, this art is now One of the most important varieties of localized, and is most practiced at Sialkot surface decoration in metal is damascen- and Gujerat, in the Punjab. It is identical TABLE OR STOOL, IN COARSE OLD SILVER. SURAHI (WATER VESSEL), MODERN CASHMERE WARE, corrza TINNED. 62 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. AMRITZA, SIKII, MODERN. in principle with, and strongly resembles in detail, the damascening of Syria, which also was like Spanish and Venetian work. In the daysonly just passed bywhen the Punjab was the battle-ground of In- dia, arms were the most important manu- facture of its large towns. Even now a native prince occasionally turns out his cavalry escort in chain or plate armor, and there still survive workmen who have been employed all their lives on defensive gear, the counterpart of which is to be found depicted in the Bayeux tapestry; for although the use of armor may have been originated in the East, it never at- tained the wonderfully elaborate devel- opment which clothed the later Christian knight as completely in flexible steel as an armadillo is clothed by its scales. The round basnet with movable nose-guard and dependent curtain of chain - mail is still made here exactly as it was worn by the Paynim host in the time of the Cru- sades; and the char amafour plates the prototypes of the skillfully fitted plate - armor of Europe, survive in their pristine simplicity. But now, Othellos occupation being gone in great part, the artificers have turn- ed their attention to forging caskets, can- dlesticks, cups, sal- vers, shields (for dec- orative purposes), and a hundred sim- ilar things, the sup- ply of which seems more than equal to the demand. It is vexatious to see an inkstand made out of a jockey-cap, a horseshoe, a hunt- ing-whip, and a sad- dle copied in good red gold and honest blue steel; but the workman is scarce- ly to blame if in- anities of this sort are demanded from him. Here, as in other branches of Indian work, are large numbers of skillful men, who really possess good art traditions, ready and willing to re- spond to a demand for the best they can do. Some of them, such as Ibrah im of Gujerat, Kuth Din of Sialkot, and others, are capable of artistic and well-consider- ed design. Generally speaking, modern damascening, or koft-work, is apt to de- generate into minute and meaningless or- nament, as if the infiltration marks on a~ moss - agate or sea-weed forms had been copied. The gold wire, too, is replaced by a merely superficial gilding sometimes, while, for the sake of cheapness, gold and silver of inferior purity are used. The metal chasing of Cashmere is of Persian origin, and copper is the favor- ite material. Arabesque ornaments that sometimes recall the fine patterns on old Persian wine bowls, but more frequently a uniform distribution of minute details resembling the shawl patterns, are en- graven, and then filled with lac, the raised parts being tinned like Moradabad niello, only in the Cashmere work the surface is not made so mechanically perfect. Be- sides this pleasant roughness, which gives a better tone to the Cashmere ware, the design is in a quite different style and feeling. Silver is treated in a similar BEATEN WORK IN corr~~ FOR THE GOLDEN TEMrLE, OR DURBAR SAHIB INDIAN ART IN METAL AND WOOD. 63 way, without a black ground, but some- times with the addition of colored enam- el, usually disagreeably raw and crude in color, and more often with a light gilding on the raised parts, which produces a sin- gularly delicate and pleasing effect, the rest of the chased work being left in a peculiar tone of dead and half-burnished white, like snow and pearls just touched with gold. In nearly all modern Cash- mere products the well - known pine form of the shawls may be considered the decorative unit, re - appearing in painted papier- machi, wood-work, and metal. This - misruled country is liable to famines, WATER VESSEL COPPER andinformertimes TINNED, OLD CASHMERE large numbers of WARE. workmen emigra ted to the plains. Cashmere silver-work is now made at Lucknow, and at Amritza is an important trade in Cashmere shawls. The silver-work which takes its name from the kingdom of Cutch, and the best of which is made at Bhuj, the capital of a native state north of the Bombay Presi- dency, is nowadays applied to articles of European use, and finds extensive sale. The workmen are Hindus, and among their ornaments figures of animals and occasionally of divinities are seen. Gen- erally the patterns are of equally distrib- uted scrolls and foliage in relief on a ground dotted or roughened by the punch. In buying this ware the weight of the sil- ver is first charged, and then so much per rupee is added for workmanshipa rate which varies according to the elaboration and quality of the work. This practice is universal where metal is concerned. A mechanically better finished kind of sil- ver repous& ~ on the same principle is made at Delhi, but the forms are apt to become meagre and thread-like. The col- lector at times comes across large pieces of embossed silver for which there seems to be no use in our civilized life, holdly hammered up and chased, with no sui- cidal attempt to smooth off the marks of hammer and chisel. These, though sonie- times merely coarse and clumsy, have often a quite royal effect, and seem to indicate that our Western treatment of silver is more timid and tiny than it need be. An interesting example of the occasion- al value of religious endowments in pre- serving forms of art is afforded by the re- pouss6-work in copper done at Amritza, the sacred city of the Sikhs, for the Sikh temple known as the Golden Temple, or Durbar Sahib. The upper part of this building is covered with copper plates em- bossed and heavily gilded, while the low- er portions and the surrounding pave- ments are an inlay of precious stones in marble, resembling the Agra pietra dura inlay, but differing in that, with Hindu freedom of fancy, human figures and crea- tures are introduced. The revenues of this temple not only support the priests, but also keep agoing workshops where beaten-work in metal and marble inlay are wrought. The application of vitreous enamel to metal is the choicest of Iiidian arts, and one of the few which can rival Japanese work in technical skill. No cloisonn6, however, is done here. In the tinie of the Moguls enamel was used for arms, but it is now chiefly confined to articles of feminine adornment. That of Jeypoor (in IRajputana) is considered the finest, but Delhi almost equals it in quality of color. Both are remarkable for a beautiful red, a fine white, and great delicacy of finish. At Multan, Jhang, and other places in the Northern Punjab silver ornaments are enanielled in two tints of blue, a fine black, and inferior red and yellow. The best of this is champ lcvi, i. c., the enamel is filled into graven hollows, but in much of the ordinary work the metal, instead of being engraven, is beaten into a die, and the resulting raised line is consequently poor and mechanical. Bahawalpur, a native state on the Pun- jab border, has a reputation for semi-trans- lucent blue and sea-green enamel, applied to large pieces, some of the gilded surface being left plain or only chased in lines, with admirable effect. But the supply is limited, and the work is more costly than it need be. There is ~a pretty variety of semi-trans- parent green enamel incrusted with gold figures and ornaments delicately lined, known as Pertabghur enamel, which is now one of the numerous crafts of Delhi. Some of the most interesting of this class from an artists point of view, is the com- paratively rude work done at Kangra, in 64 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. the lower Punjab Himalaya, at Ha- yara on the fron- tier, and other places. There is a simplicity of mo- tive and boldness of design in these rusticeffortswhich you miss in the finely finished ar- NECKLACE, ENAMEL ON SIL- tides of Delhi and VER, SEMI-BARBARIC HILL Jeypoor. WORK, FROM KANGRA, Indian jewelry FUNJAB. is too vast a sub ject to be adequate- ly treated in so brief and general a sketch as this. The universal custom of putting savings by in the form of gold and silver ornaments necessitates the presence of a silversmith in every village. The wife of a peasant whose gross annual income is but two hundred rupees, all told, and whose house is furnished only with a bed and a few cooking pots, wears on her person from fifty to eighty rupees worth of ornaments, and other classes in proportion. The nostrils are sometimes pierced and the ears riddled with perfora- tions from top to bottom of the distorted lobes; the ankles are by some castes loaded with heavy, bell-studded fetters, the wear- ing of which would be considered a griev- ous punishment by a Western belle; the head is laced with chains, studs, and plates; the arm is loaded sometimes from wrist to shoulder; toe rings are common, and oc- casionally rings on each finger are con- nected by chains with a large ornament or gold-set mirror on the back of the hand. All kinds of things are used for ornaments; natural marigolds are set with plates of talc, necklaces of cloves are considered good for the headache, and are certainly pretty; pewter, iron, brass, zinc, copper, glass, horn, shell, and lac are used for bangles, tons of glass and lac being annu- ally worked up for this purpose alone. There is material for a volume in the quaint fancies and superstitions associated with precious stones, each of which is mi- nutely classified in all possible varieties. Each caste and race also wears ornaments of distinctive forms, and though railway travelling has diffused geographical vari- ations, it has by no means suppressed them. Without attempting more than a reference to this subject, it may be fairly said that the jewelry by which India is known abroad, such as the gold-work of Delhi set with preciou~ stones, pretty and occasionally European in taste; the silvei~ filigrain of Cuttack, which resembles the dainty metal cobwebs of Malta and Gen- oa; the Swami gold and silver ornaments of Trichinopoly and Madras, rough with grotesque, many-armed gods, and the chis- elled silver of Lucknow, are not quite the best and most characteristic forms the country can show. Among the hill peo- ple and in outlying districts are still to be found bracelets, necklets, and other gear, rough, indeed, in workmanship, but bold in design, resembling more the ornaments adorning the figures of ancient Hindu sculpture than the comparatively flimsy things made for the English market. Many of the best of these are too barbaric in general form for adoption by English or American ladies, who would object to their size and massiveness. Their sim- plicity, however, is real and natural, and very unlike the bald plainness the West- ern goldsmith attains when he cunningly strives for this precious quality. But little space is left for a notice of In- dian work in wood. This is only known abroad by bibelots, which, though pretty, give no idea of the real strength of the na- tive artificerhis treatment of wood in do- mestic architecture. To fitly understand this it i& necessary to see such towns as Ah- medabad in Guzerat, Amritza and Lahore in the Punjab, the old doorways of Delhi, and many others scattered over the coun- try. Even bibelots, however, may be characteristic, and the richly worked san- dal-wood carving of Canara and Southern India, with its boldly undercut rows of whirling and fantastic figures and scrolls, is a not wholly despicable repetition of the crowded and coral-like incrustation of sculptures on Southern Hindu temples. The similar work of Surat and Bombay may be known by its flatter projection and the absence of figures, while the same ma- terial at Ahmedabad, where some of the best wood-carving in India is wrought, combines figures with ornament in a me- dium degree of relief. The black-wood furniture of Bombay is a naturalized im- portation, and being based on a false idea of wood construction, has degenerated into an elaborate and tiresome agglomeration of curlie - wurlies, whigmaleeries, and open-steekd hems, to quote Andrew Fairservices apt description of thoughtless ornament. Chair, couch, or table is lost INDIAN ART IN METAL AND WOOD. 65 in a profusion of heavily carved open- work, the motive of which can scarcely be traced. The sandal-wood, ivory, and bison- horn combinations of Vizagapatam are lit- tle more than a superior class of stationers goods. Nor is the ivory, pewter, and eb- ony mosaic in sandal-wood of the Bombay work-box of a much higher character. At Bijnaur and Nagind (northwest prov- inces) is localized a curious craft of mi- nute geometrical carvingof surface diapers in ebony, in very low relief but beautifully crisp execution. Combs, caskets, trays, envelope boxes, and the like, are the usual forms, but the supply is irregular. At Mainpuri, in the same provinces, a dainty sort of damascening in dark hard wood is done, brass wire being inlaid in salvers, trays, etc., with that infinite fancy of flow- ing line that never fails the native crafts- man. At Hushiarpur, in the Punjab, is a growing industry of shishani-wood inlaid with ivory and brass. The comparative freedom of design in this work reminds one of Italian tarsia. For cabinet-work, panels of any size could be supplied in any quantity. The present applications are chiefly desks, work-boxes, cabinets, and small articles of furniture. The wood is a dark red-brown, some thing like rose- wood, but tougher and stronger. Hushi- arpur is also strong in turned and lacquer- ed wood-ware. Native house furniture is exceedingly simple, being limited usually to a bed and a stool or two. A part of each marriage outfit in Northern India is a charpoy (low bedstead), and a quaint, high-backed, low stool, both of turned wood ornamented x~ith lac. Very little painting on wood is now done, and the lac surface, obtained by pressing what is virtu- ally a stick of colored sealing-wax on the revolving object, is a harder and more solid covering than any paint. The heat de- veloped by friction melts the lac, and far- ther friction with a bit of bamboo polishes a coat of color which resists dust, the great heat of the hot weather, and the damp of the rains. But there are many refine- ments in this most simple art. In Sindh and in the Punjab layer upon layer of colored lac of infinitesimal thinness is laid. Then with a stylus these coats are scratch- ed through in a manner analogous to Ital- ian sgrafflto. Supposing red to have been laid first, then green, and lastly black, the black is scratched through for green leaves, the green and black for a red flower, and for a white line all are cut through to the white wood. At Dera Ismail Khan, in the Punjab, fern-like scrolls of almost incred- ible minuteness and delicacy are thus pro- duced on caskets, tables, and a large va- riety of objects, all of which, however, are and must be circular. If this fine quality of surface-covering could be applied with- out the intervention of the lathe, it would be a great ga.in. The domestic charpoy, wedding stool, and spinning-wheel are still the chief native uses of the craft, and among well-to-do people ivory studs and other elaborations are added to their sim- ple forms. Sometimes pretty models of cooking vessels are made in this material for wedding gifts, as also toy-like sauce- pans in silver or sometimes in bead-work. Obviously, if everybody gave real vessels, the bride would be buried in pots and pans. Charming and characteristic as are the small wares in wood thus briefly de- scribed, there is a higher interest and oft- en better art in Indian applications of wood to domestic architecture. There are few Northern towns which can not show whole house fronts carved with that pe- culiarly Oriental elaboration which seems to take no thought of time or expense. Balconies, windows, brackets, and cor- nices, occurring among stone, brick, or lime work, are ornamented with sunk flowers, enriched mouldings, columns, and pilasters, with a surety, crispness, and felicity which can only be appreciated when seen in their native sunshine. Con- sidered as construction merely, some car- pentry of other nations is perhaps sound- er; but even in this respect there is no- thing despicable. The reckless waste of the once fine forestswhich the govern- ment is doing its best to remedyhas greatly enhanced the price of timber, and tends to choke a still living craft. The architecture imported by the English has, however, done niore grievous injury than can be estimated with calmness. Bar- racks, churches, and houses, designed for the most part by people who have had no education in architecture of any kind, but who are at best fair engineers, are looked upon by natives as authoritati ye exam- ples, and their blank ugliness is copied with exasperating fidelity. Municipal improvements, too, are often devastations, and the names of active dis- trict officers are given to new buildings of uniform hideousness which replace the quaintness, variety, and beauty of a nat- urally grown native street. There are 06 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. earnest magistrates capable of calmly or- daining that all new house balconies should be of one pattern, prescribed by the municipal engineer, and there are many who think that when they have reared a clock tower in nineteenth-cen- tury British Gothic in the centre of a na- tive city they have taken a serious step in the march of civilization. An exam- ple of this folly is to be seen at Amritza, where, overlooking the pool in the centre of which the Golden Temple of the Sikhs seems to swim like a swan, pure and bright in marble and gold, is a red brick clock tower whose offense nothing short of dynamite could fitly purge. There is another in the Chandney Chowk, the pic- turesque main street of Delhi. But in fairness it must be said that this mistaken notion of improvement is giving way to a juster appreciation of the fitness of things. And if zealous civil officers have occasionally done harm, there are many cases in which their strenuous and well- directed efforts have been the means of preserving interesting industries from ex- tinction and noble monuments from de- cay. At Muttra, one of the ancient Hin du centres, and at Bulandshahr (north- west provinces), may be seen new build- ings richly wrought, and rivalling old work in beauty, which owe their exist- ence entirely to the energy and taste of an officer of the civil service, who is also a learned Oriental scholar, and has the sympathetic gift of ~inspiring natives of means and position with his enthusiasm for indigenous art. The declared and vigorously enforced policy of the govern- ment to use native manufactures for its own needs, instead of constantly ordering stores from England, will stimulate na- tive industry, while art in its higher sense may be benefited by the appointment to the Ministry of Public Works of Mr. T. C. Hope, whose researches in the archLe- ology of Guzerat are well known, and who has an enlightened appreciation of Oriental architecture. The people are so ready to follow the official lead, it is of more importance here than elsewhere that government should at least be sympathet- ic on this subject. In the Punjab, at all events, the tradi- tion of good timber construction, rich and fanciful in design, still survives. In PERFORATED WINDOW, cOPIED IN TEAK FROM THE WINDOW IN YELLOW SANDSTONE IN THE BHUDDER MOSQUE, ARMEDABAD. ON THE EDGE OF THE MARSH. 67 Southern India there is nothing to match the picturesque streets of Northern towns, with their projecting galleries, pretty bal- cony windows, and elaborately fretted cor- nices. It would be a curious and interest- ing inquiry to trace the variations of wood- building from the quaint Mongolian temples near Simla southward, the styles changing as dialects and language change. Broadly, the most striking result of such an inquiry would be a conviction of the predominance of the late Saracenic shaft and mihr~b, which, like an Aarons rod, seem to be swallowing up more character- istic Hindu forms, where the square pil- lar, though chamfered into octagons and cunningly notched and sculptured, virtu- ally remains square. In Northern India Sikhs, Jams, and other Hindus have ac- cepted this soft, half Italian-looking form without reserve, and it is to be found in the purely Hindu towns of Maharashtra, Poona, and Nassick, as well as in Guzerat, where, however, the Hindu sculptor made a harder fight against Mussulman influ- ence. The Punjab contains many varieties of the interesting work of the constructive carpenter, as he is called in contradis- tinction to the village carpenter proper, whose immemorial allotment of labor is to make the agricultural implements and simple furniture of rustic life. But in order to realize its charm it is necessary to brave many evil odors, and to lose ones self in the labyrinthine streets and alleys of native cities, where weather- worn, richly carved timbers nearly meet overhead, where the dyer hangs out his cloths fresh from the dye vat in brilliant- ly tinted streamers, and the pigeons flut- ter and perch along the dusty mouldings, while the green parrots shoot like live emeralds from the clear blue of the cold- weather sky into the dark shadows under the fretted eaves. There is no reason why the skill and fancy of Indian wood-carvers should not be known abroad by large work suitable for architectural uses as well as by draw- ing-room ornaments. A country may be rich in wit and wealth and yet inherit no birthright of its own in the great genealogy of artistic style, and need not think it shame to go abroad in search of adornments for its necessarily eclectic architecture. There is much that the Indian craftsman can do which can not, to put it in homely phrase, be done anywhere else under hea- ven for love or money. The best that he is capable of has scarcely by this genera- tion been asked for. And when, hum- bly anxious to please, he has, with great pains and labor, produced his copy of Eu- ropean work, we turn round and abuse him for his misdirected industry. But is the fault entirely his? He is the least spec- ulative of mortals, and only makes what will sell. He is innocent of many of the fine sentiments attributed to him, and his whole being is by no means centred in poetry and metaphysics; but he has won- derful hands, and is born heir to fine deco- rative traditions. In this matter of carven wood-work skillful architects could find many details which might be built into modern domestic constructions with ad- mirable effect. An interesting experi- ment was tried recently by Mr. Lockwood De Forest, of New York, who, during a re- cent protracted visit to this country, or- ganized a band of the wood-carvers of Ahmedabad. Among the works wrought by these men may be instanced copies of the beautiful windows in perforated sand- stone of the Bhudder, which may be con- sidered as types of the best qualities of Indian design. Such demands made by artists and those who care for art can be fully met, and would do more than any- thing else to convince the people of the folly of neglecting their own plastic forms. ON THE EDGE OF THE MARSH. Ix NOVEMBER. DEAD sienna and rusty gold Tell the year on the marsh is old. Blackened and bent, the sedges shrink Back from the sea pools frosty brink. Low in the west a wind cloud lies, Tossed and wild in the autumn skies. Over the marshes, mournfully, Drifts the sound of the restleis sea. voL. LXVIL.No. 8975 IN JUNE. Fair and green is the marsh in June; Wide and warm in the sunny noon. The flowering rushes fringe the pool With slender shadows, dim and cool. From the low bushes Bob White calls; Into his nest a rose leaf falls, The blue-flag fades; and through the heat, Far off, the seas faint pulses beat.

ON THE EDGE OF THE MARSH. 67 Southern India there is nothing to match the picturesque streets of Northern towns, with their projecting galleries, pretty bal- cony windows, and elaborately fretted cor- nices. It would be a curious and interest- ing inquiry to trace the variations of wood- building from the quaint Mongolian temples near Simla southward, the styles changing as dialects and language change. Broadly, the most striking result of such an inquiry would be a conviction of the predominance of the late Saracenic shaft and mihr~b, which, like an Aarons rod, seem to be swallowing up more character- istic Hindu forms, where the square pil- lar, though chamfered into octagons and cunningly notched and sculptured, virtu- ally remains square. In Northern India Sikhs, Jams, and other Hindus have ac- cepted this soft, half Italian-looking form without reserve, and it is to be found in the purely Hindu towns of Maharashtra, Poona, and Nassick, as well as in Guzerat, where, however, the Hindu sculptor made a harder fight against Mussulman influ- ence. The Punjab contains many varieties of the interesting work of the constructive carpenter, as he is called in contradis- tinction to the village carpenter proper, whose immemorial allotment of labor is to make the agricultural implements and simple furniture of rustic life. But in order to realize its charm it is necessary to brave many evil odors, and to lose ones self in the labyrinthine streets and alleys of native cities, where weather- worn, richly carved timbers nearly meet overhead, where the dyer hangs out his cloths fresh from the dye vat in brilliant- ly tinted streamers, and the pigeons flut- ter and perch along the dusty mouldings, while the green parrots shoot like live emeralds from the clear blue of the cold- weather sky into the dark shadows under the fretted eaves. There is no reason why the skill and fancy of Indian wood-carvers should not be known abroad by large work suitable for architectural uses as well as by draw- ing-room ornaments. A country may be rich in wit and wealth and yet inherit no birthright of its own in the great genealogy of artistic style, and need not think it shame to go abroad in search of adornments for its necessarily eclectic architecture. There is much that the Indian craftsman can do which can not, to put it in homely phrase, be done anywhere else under hea- ven for love or money. The best that he is capable of has scarcely by this genera- tion been asked for. And when, hum- bly anxious to please, he has, with great pains and labor, produced his copy of Eu- ropean work, we turn round and abuse him for his misdirected industry. But is the fault entirely his? He is the least spec- ulative of mortals, and only makes what will sell. He is innocent of many of the fine sentiments attributed to him, and his whole being is by no means centred in poetry and metaphysics; but he has won- derful hands, and is born heir to fine deco- rative traditions. In this matter of carven wood-work skillful architects could find many details which might be built into modern domestic constructions with ad- mirable effect. An interesting experi- ment was tried recently by Mr. Lockwood De Forest, of New York, who, during a re- cent protracted visit to this country, or- ganized a band of the wood-carvers of Ahmedabad. Among the works wrought by these men may be instanced copies of the beautiful windows in perforated sand- stone of the Bhudder, which may be con- sidered as types of the best qualities of Indian design. Such demands made by artists and those who care for art can be fully met, and would do more than any- thing else to convince the people of the folly of neglecting their own plastic forms. ON THE EDGE OF THE MARSH. Ix NOVEMBER. DEAD sienna and rusty gold Tell the year on the marsh is old. Blackened and bent, the sedges shrink Back from the sea pools frosty brink. Low in the west a wind cloud lies, Tossed and wild in the autumn skies. Over the marshes, mournfully, Drifts the sound of the restleis sea. voL. LXVIL.No. 8975 IN JUNE. Fair and green is the marsh in June; Wide and warm in the sunny noon. The flowering rushes fringe the pool With slender shadows, dim and cool. From the low bushes Bob White calls; Into his nest a rose leaf falls, The blue-flag fades; and through the heat, Far off, the seas faint pulses beat. THE HOME OF HIAWATHA. f~ ANADA in the middle of the seven- teenth century was surely rough and frontier-like enough, yet it was only the threshold of an unexplored region whose vastness was then inestimable, and whose promises of adventure and wealth were very alluring. The French for a long time after the first colonization on the Lower St. Lawrence had neither energy nor re- sources for advancing beyond Montreal, the very existence of which was a contin- uous miracle. Finally, however, a few traders or hunters penetrated westward, and excelled each other in bringing back glowing accounts of a rich region and of hordes of Indians. This fired the adven- turous zeal of the Jesuit Allouez, who or- ganized a band of Indian followers, and sailed up to the head of Lake Huron. Here, at the Sault Ste. Marie, he threw himself boldly among the savages, rely- ing on his powers of persuasion to win their confidence, and the purity of his mo- tives to secure success. This was in 1665. In May, 1673, two other ardent French- men followed his footstepsmen whose names are now immortal in the North- west. They were Fathers Marquette and Joliet. Their company consisted of five other Frenchmen and some Indians, their means of transportation were two bark canoes, and their provisions a small sup- ply of maize and smoked meat. Passing the posts at St. Marys and at Michili- mackinac, at the exit of Lake Michigan, they met Father Allouez at the Bay of Puans, now Green Bay, and there pre- pared to go in search of a great river re- ported by the Indians as existing further west. It does not concern me to follow them in their voyage along the Wiscon- sin to and down the Mississippi. Some, discarding the semi-mythical story of De Soto, have credited Marquette with being the very first white man to discover this greatest of our water-courses. All honor to Pare Marquette, but he left to a less worthy successor, Father Henimepin, tIme first exploration of the region where I wish to take my readersthe Upper Mis- sissippi. When Joliet, leaving Marquette at his~ prayers and preaching among the Miamis, worked his way back to Quebec, he found ST. rAUL, MiNNESOTA.

THE HOME OF HIAWATHA. f~ ANADA in the middle of the seven- teenth century was surely rough and frontier-like enough, yet it was only the threshold of an unexplored region whose vastness was then inestimable, and whose promises of adventure and wealth were very alluring. The French for a long time after the first colonization on the Lower St. Lawrence had neither energy nor re- sources for advancing beyond Montreal, the very existence of which was a contin- uous miracle. Finally, however, a few traders or hunters penetrated westward, and excelled each other in bringing back glowing accounts of a rich region and of hordes of Indians. This fired the adven- turous zeal of the Jesuit Allouez, who or- ganized a band of Indian followers, and sailed up to the head of Lake Huron. Here, at the Sault Ste. Marie, he threw himself boldly among the savages, rely- ing on his powers of persuasion to win their confidence, and the purity of his mo- tives to secure success. This was in 1665. In May, 1673, two other ardent French- men followed his footstepsmen whose names are now immortal in the North- west. They were Fathers Marquette and Joliet. Their company consisted of five other Frenchmen and some Indians, their means of transportation were two bark canoes, and their provisions a small sup- ply of maize and smoked meat. Passing the posts at St. Marys and at Michili- mackinac, at the exit of Lake Michigan, they met Father Allouez at the Bay of Puans, now Green Bay, and there pre- pared to go in search of a great river re- ported by the Indians as existing further west. It does not concern me to follow them in their voyage along the Wiscon- sin to and down the Mississippi. Some, discarding the semi-mythical story of De Soto, have credited Marquette with being the very first white man to discover this greatest of our water-courses. All honor to Pare Marquette, but he left to a less worthy successor, Father Henimepin, tIme first exploration of the region where I wish to take my readersthe Upper Mis- sissippi. When Joliet, leaving Marquette at his~ prayers and preaching among the Miamis, worked his way back to Quebec, he found ST. rAUL, MiNNESOTA. THE HOME OF HIAWATHA. 69 there the Sieur de la Salle, a young man of birth and fortune, who was never tired of listening to his tales. La Salle con- cluded that the Missouri (Pekitanoni, as Joliet called it) would furnish a waterway to the northern ocean, and hence through to China and the East Indies. Fired by this brilliant hope to attempt the passage, he engaged the help of the Chevalier de Tonti and the Franciscan Rdcollet, Pare Hennepin, and began by building the first vessel ever launched on Lake Erie. She was of sixty tons burden, fully rigged, carried seven cannon, and had the furni- ture and equipment of a miniature man- of-war. This expedition, starting in 1679, and overcornino~ the loss of its fine ship and various other misfortunes, was finally landed at the southern end of Lake Mich an. Marching inland, a head-quarters named Fort Cr~vecceur was built near where Peoria, Illinois, now stands, and a lATinter was passed in preparation. One of the several expeditions La Salle planned was directed to survey the sources of the Mississippi, of which nothing was known north of the Wisconsin. To Fa- ther Hennepin was intrusted its conduct, while La Salle himself went south. Two centuries ago, then, on February 29, 1680, Hennepin set off on his tripthe length or the dangers of which were total- ly unforeseenaccompanied only by two Frenchmen, Picard du Gay and Michel Ako. His account of the river scenery is meagre, but one can identify the points. For instance, here is his description of the strange and beautiful St. Croix, whose dalles are the delight of every tourist: SILVER CASCADE, NEAR ST. ANTHONY. 70 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. SUSPENSION-BRIDGE AT MINNEAPOLIS. There is another River, which falls, forty Leagues above this last, into the Mesehasipi; thro which one may go into the Superiour Lake, by making a Port- age from it into the River Nissipihuet, which runs into the same Lake. It is full of Rocks and rapid Streams. We named st the River of the Grave, or Mausoleum, because the Savages buryd there one of their Men, who was bitten by a Rattle- snake. His next observation of any importance (for he seems to have overlooked the en- trance of the great Minnesota River at Fort Snelling, which is hidden by an isl- and) is the falls, to which the name he gave still clings, and which will remain the firmest monument of Hennepins hard- ships. He is not ex- cited about them, though, and one par- agraph holds the whole description. I quote it The Navigation of the Mesehasipi is interrupted, ten Leagues above this River of the Grave, by a Fall of fifty or sixty Foot high, which we called The Fall of St. Anthony of Padua, whom we had taken for the Protector of our Dis- covery. There is a Rock of a Pyramidal Figure just in the middle of the Fall of the River.~~ A few miles fur- ther on Hennepins party had the misfor- tune to be taken pris- oners by the Issati, or Sioux, and during many weeks suffered untold seventies, not so much intentional on the part of the Indians as from the necessary rapidity of their marches, the rigor of the wea- ther, and the scarcity of food. Final- ly the priest and Picard du Gay, seeing no way to find the sources of the river, nor end to their sufferings, determined to take a canoe and float down to the mouth of the Wisconsin, where they hoped La Salle would have established a post or left a cache of provisions. Mi- chel Ako, the other canoe-man, chose to stay with the Indians, seeing he began to relish the Barbarians way of living. So, parting in friendly spirit from the red men, who made no opposition, they em- barked. It was on this return trip that Henne- pin met Greysolon du Lhut (later spelled du Luth, whence the name of the town at the western end of Lake Superior). This man was famous as a coureur de bois the roving chief of a half-savage crew, trading, exploring, fighting, and laboring with persistent hardihood to foil the rival English traders of Hudsons Bay. Nico- las Parrot was another of them. Du Lhut, anxious to open trade with the Sioux and THE HOME OF HIAWATHA. 71 BELOW THE BRIDGE AT ST. PAUL. -~-j- V~2 Chippeways, begged Hennepin to go back with him. He did so, and they remained until autumn, bartering for furs, then re- turned to Michilirnackinac, whence Hen- nepin went on to Quebec, and thence home to France. All this time the Spaniards had settle- La Houtan, in 1688, was the next ex- ments upon our Gulf coast, and were push- plorer, and a dozen years later came Le ing fearless expeditions into the Southwest. Sueur, who ~ave the name St. Croix to Why, with their energy and abundant ap- that river, after he had drowned one of pliances, they should not have followed his men in its waters, and who ascended northward the mighty current that ever the Minnesota. Between him and the rolled past them into the South is one of next man is an interval of sixty-six years. the mysteries of the history of exploration. 72 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. To the French, however, traversing labori- ously rough lakes, tortuous rivers, weary ~)ortages, and savage forests, belongs the credit of all first knowledge of the North- west: and it is yet within the memory of living men wheu the half-breed voyageurs formed almost the sole inhabitants and means of communication throughout that wide and barbarous region. It was not until 1766, indeed, that an Englishman was ever seen there; and he was Captain Jonathan Carver, whom you can not re- main long in St. Paul or Minneapolis without hearing of. Like all the rest of them he wrote a book, and thus, a century or so after Hennepin had named them, the Falls of St. Anthony of Padua began to be known abroad, and the beautiful country that surrounded them to be frequently visited, and even occupied by frontiers- men. The very first civilized settlement, prob- ably, was at or near Mendota, a village opposite St. Paul, noxv relinquished to the lodges of the Chippeway Indians, who make a living by peddling baskets, mocca- sins, red stone pipes, etc., about the streets of Minnesota towns. On the low ground there, bordering the Minnesota River, and a little way from its entrance into the Mississippi, stood the French trading post of St. Pierre, or St. Peters. The French called the lesser river the St. Peters too, but the Siouxs name for it was Mini Sotah, meaning ~turbid water, while to St. Peters as a station they gave the name Mdotc Mini Sotah, whence, by small cor- ruption, Mendota. This post, which about the year 1800 became the head-quarters of the American Fur Company in that region, traded with the Sioux, who then and pre- viously occupied all this region about the sources of the Mississippi, nd westward along the lower Missouri and Platte rivers. They were divided into several sections, and their traditionary enemies were the Chippeways, who finally, about 1830, conquered them and slowly drove them back from Mille Lac and the upper river toward the open plains that stretch from the Missouri to the Big Horn Mountains. Gradually, however, white men came into the region. St. Peters found itself a village instead of a single stockade. The government woke up and sent a detach- ment of the army to establish a canton- ment on the plateau near by. This pro- tected the traders and kept the peace be- tween those good haters, the Sioux and Chippeways, both of whom came to the fort to trade. On the northern bank of the Minnesota, between it and the main river, which bends here in a noble sweep, stands a pointed bluff with an almost vertical face more than one hundred feet high. On the crown and utmost edge of this bluff the military commander built a round stone fort with a high stone wall pierced for cannon, extending right and left from it along the brink of the precipice. Behind, properly fortified, were the store-houses SHORT LINE BRIDGE NEAR ST. ANTHONY FALLS. THE HOME OF HIAWATHA. 73 and quarters. This splendidly located post was named Fort Snellin~, and exists little changed to this day, the most pictur- esque object, in my mind, on the whole river. What scenes it has witnessed of savage warfare and of rude gayety! What stories can be told by its old habituds, and have been told to me, as they shook their gray locks with laughter over some com- ical incident of those wild days, or dwelt with scowling brows upon the terrible pictures of Indian ferocity memory re- called! Half a dozen miles lower down the river stood another bluff of the soft white rock St. Paul is already far beyond the wildest hopes its early rival ever conceived. Half a dozen miles north, on the other side of Fort Snelling, was an admirable town site by the Falls of St. Anthony, and the United States began the future settle- ment, and suggested its character as a manufacturing town by erecting two saw- mills there in 1825. Now millions of dol- lars would not buy the privilege of the water-power which those two little mills had all to themselves. Such is a sketch of the early history of the Upper Mississippi, and the origin of the twin cities that emulate each other in characteristic of all this region, which Car- metropolitan airs. No portion of our do- ver is said to have pointed out as a good main has a more entertaining past. It is site for a town; and after Fort Snelling full of tradition and mystery and heroic and its soldiers had insured protection it tale. Every geographical point has its was not long before a settlement sprang up Indian namea definition in itselfand there. Of course it became a rival of the about each peculiar or prominent object old Indian post, and what more natural lingers some legend of war or romance. than that it should take the name of that The Indian words scattered so plentifully other great apostle, St. Paul? Thus it over the maps of Dakota and Minnesota begana youngster when its rival was are chiefly from the Sioux language, and half a century old; but in another half- their noticeable sameness is due to the century St. Peters is utterly forgotten, and barrenness of that tongue, which contains LAKE PEnN. 74 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. a far more meagre vocabulary than did the aqueous region I have described, the those of either of their neighbors, the town above was also well called Minneap- Chippeways and the Sacs and Foxes. olisa city of waters. It stands upon the The word mini, which forms the intro- high ground which rises into a ridge where ductory syllables to so many geographical st. Anthonys cataract breaks into dissblv- names, means water. Sometimes it ap- ing foam, and then sweeps down in a deep pears as misi, or mizi. No wonder this and eddying current between lofty banks word occurs so frequently. The map of to its further course below. Opposite are this region is as speckled with lakes and the straggling village and factories of the marshes and streams as any map could be town of St. Anthony, whose great expec- and call itself dry land. It is true that tations are, I fear, quenched by its more Itaska Lake is the actual source of the Fa- successful tisit-vis, and the suburbs and ther of Waters, to which it can be directly farms extend far up and down on either traced; but a thousandyes, ten thousand side. A little beyond it sparkles one of ponds, swamps, and springs feed its slen- the most exquisite of Minnesotas water- der stream long before it comes down to fallsSilver Cascade. where it is of aay use. This accounts for Spanning the river at the city stands a the strength and constancy of the Missis- magnificent suspension - bridge of iron, sippi. It drains an immense area of small whose graceful length adds greatly to the water - courses, singly insignificant, but picturesque effect, and contributes to the unitedly furnishing an immense volume, commercial convenience in a way hard to This makes the Father of Waters the son appreciate until you have passed a winter of innumerable forgotten parents, and he there, and have seen the ice break up in is bred no baby rivulet, but a young Her- the spring. Ferriage was a very uncer- culesa strong stream holding his own tam, not to say perilous, expedient, which from the moment he sets forth, the high bridge has done away with. The St. Paul was not a bad name for the bridge stands just about opposite the cen- settlement doxvn the river, but in viexv of tre of the city, and continues out into the SUGAR-LOAF MOUNTAIN, NEAR WINONA. THE HOME OF HIAWATHA. 75 air one of her principal business streets. Underneath it are the railway tracks that run to the northward, and also serve the extensive lumber yards above, while below is the great railway freight yard, and the mills that form the citys source of wealth. Minneapolis is now a town of some 50,000 people; she is growing rapidly, and, I think, in a healthy way. Her natural advantages of-location are very great, both for business purposes and as a place of re- sidence, and she has a rich farming region developing with surprising strides to give a market to her wares in exchange for its crops and animal products. Minneapolis is known not only in the United States, but widely out of it, for its grist-milling indus- tries, which it owes to the magnificent water- power afforded by the falls. It seems incredible that away off in this far Northwest, where even yet the native Indian comes strolling about the street in half-savage tog- gery, and the echo of the pioneers axe is scarcely lost, structures so towering should be devoted to manufacture, and so much elaborate machinery be at work day and night. There are twenty-one mills, near- ly all enormous stone buildings, closely crowded together, forming a locality which recalls the denser portions of Fall River or Lawrence, with their huge cotton facto- ries. The heaviest owners are Mr. G. A. Pillsbury, with four mills, and Governor C. C. Washburn, the owner of three. To the kindness of the latter gentleman I owe the opportunity to see the working of the improved processes of modern flour- making in his new A mill, which is said to be the largest in the world, except one at Buda-Pesth. The wheat to feed this mill, as well as all its neighbors, comes chiefly from the Red River region, where are those town- ship-wide farms that have been so often described of late. The receipts at Minne- apolis from June, 1879, to June, 1880, were 8,103,710 bushels. As only 80,000 bushels were shipped away during that time, it appears that over 8,000,000 bushels were turned into flour here. When the wheat comes in it is unload- ed from the cars, by the aid of steam-shov- els, into a hopper bin, whence it is ele- vated to the fifth floor and fed into a receiving bin, the bottom of which ex- tends down to the fourth floor. Out of this it empties itself into conveyers, con- sisting of small buckets travelling upon an endless belt, and is taken to storage bins on the first and second floors. Here it rests until wanted for milling. When this time comes the wheat travels by con- veyers to the top (eighth) floor, whence it is fed down into the grain separators in the story beneath, which sift out the chaff, straw, and other foreign matter. This done, it descends another story upon pat- ented grading screens, which sort out the larger-sized grains from the smaller, the MILLS AT MINNEAPOLIS. 76 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. latter falling through the meshes of the as though mice had chewed it, and pour- screen, after which the selected portion ing into special conveyers, speedily finds drops into the cockles on the floor he- itself up on the seventh floor again, where neath, and, these escaped, falls still fur- the flour dust which has been produced ther into the Brush machines. All this by this rough handling is bolted out time the wheat remains wheatthe ker- in reels, and all that is leftno longer nel is entire. Its next move, however, wheatis divided into middlings and begins its destruction, for now the end- tailings. The tailings consist of the ing-stones are encountered, which break hard seed case and the refuse part, and go the germinal point off each grain. This into market as feed and bran, while matter accomplished, the wheat is shot the middlings are reserved for further per- away up to the attic again, and traversing fection into flour; they are the starchy, the whole length of the mill, falls into an good centres of the grains. aspirator on the seventh floor, having The first operation toward this end is passed which, it slides down to the sec- the grading of the middhings, for which ond floor, and is sent through the cor- purpose they pass upon silken sieves ar- rugated rollers. These rollers have shal- ranged in narrow horizontal troughs, and low grooves cut spirally upon them, with given a gentle shaking motion by ma- rounded ridges between. The opposing chinery. There is a succession of these rollers are grooved in an opposite direction, bolting-cloths, so that the middhings pass and it is impossible for a grain of wheat through ten gradings. Next, they go to a to get through without being cracked in series of purifiers, which resemble fan- two, though the rollers are not sufficient- ning-machines, and thence to corrugated ly near together to do much more than rollers, each successive set of which are that. It comes out of this ordeal looking more closely apposed, where the meal is RED WING. THE HOME OF HIAWATHA. 72 ground finer and finer. There are five of conveyer boxes connected with them was these corrugations in all, and between each drawn a strong current of air that took up occurs a process of bolting to get rid of the all the fine particles of flour dust, and waste, and a journey from bottom to top wafted it with the strength of a tempest of the mill and back a~ain. Neverthe- into txvo dust-rooms, where it was allowed less, in spite of all this bolting, there re- to settle. The daily deposit was about mains a large quantity of dust, which must three thousand pounds, which was re- be removed in order to make the flour of moved every morning. In addition to the best quality. And hereby hangs a these small chambers there were several tale of consideFable interest to Minneapo- purifiers on the upper floors that dis lis men. charged their dust right out into the room. In the old mill which not long ago oc- The atmosphere of the whole mill thus cupied the site of this new one there stood became surcharged with exceedingly mi- upon one side the usual rows of buhrs, in nute and fuzzy particles, which are very this case twenty in number. Through the inflammable, and when mixed in certain MINNEIIAHA FALLS. 78 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. proportions with the air, highly explosive. This mixture had apparently been brought by the millers to just about the right point, when fate supplied a torch. A piece of wire fell between the buhr-stones, or into some rollers, and began a lightning-ex- press journey through the machinery, in the course of which it became red-hot, when it found an exit, and plunged out into the air. It was a most startling in- stance of the conversion of heat into mo- tion. A lighted match in a keg of powder is the only analogy to illustrate the result. One room down-stairs burst into flames, and the watchman had only time to pull the electric fire-alarm near his hand when he and the mill together disappeared from the face of the earth. A terrific explosion, generated throughout that great factory in an instant, rent all parts of the im- mense structure as suddenly as a child knocks over a tower of cards, leaving no- thing but blazing ruins to show where a twinkling before had stood the largest flour mill in the country. Nor was this all. The land was dug from under the foundations and the massive machinery buried out of sight. Two other mills and an elevator near by were demolished so that not one stone remained above anoth- er, while of three other mills cracked and tottering walls and charred interiors were the only mementos of the days flourish- ing business. The good that canie out of this seeming- ly wholly harmful episode, which scratch- ed an end-mark to one era of the citys prosperity, was the introduction into the new mills of a system of dust-saving that renders such a calamity improbable if not impossible in future. Now, instead of be- ing thrown abroad into a large room, the dust is discharged by suction fans into close fire-proof receivers, where it accuinu- lates in great quantities, and is sold as a low grade of flour. This dust having been removed, what remains is the best quality of flour. It is barrelled by the aid of a machine permitting the precise weight of 196 pounds to be determined, packed, and branded with great speed. Bakers, however, use what is known as wheat or straight flour, which is the product of the five reductions, all the sub- sequent processes through which the mid- dlings pass in making fine flour being omitted. Fancy flour differs from the ordinary superfine in that the middlings are ground through smooth rollers. Minneapolis is reported to ship annually, beyond her local consumption, 1,650,850 barrels of flour. These, says the Trib- une s statistician, if piled one above the other, end to end, would reach 780 miles. The flour would make about 495,255,000 loaves of bread the ordinary size of bakers loaves. These piled in a pyramid would make, roughly calculated, a square pyra- mid with a base 300 feet square and with a height of nearly 1000 feet. Down the river from Minneapolis are several other townsWinona (near which stands the remarkable Sugar-loaf Mount- tam sketched by the artist), Red Wing, La Crosse, and others. These towns are only smaller communities of the same type as their more populous rivals, and need no special description. Next to her vast and all-important flour- ing interests, Minneapolis controls im- mense dealings in lumber. Along the river up above town you can nowhere approach the margin except by climbing over or crawling among piles of planks and scantling; and when you have got down to the edge of the bank, you can scarcely find any river for the abundance of pine logs crowded upon its hidden sur- face. Great forests stretch over a wide country along the Upper Mississippifor- ests as dense and forbidding in a large portion of their extent as those of the Dis- mal Swampwhere tamarack and much other worthless underbrush stand in the dark water and make the jungle all but impenetrable. Scattered throughout this expanse of wilderness, however, in little groves or singly, are the noble masts and lesser trunks which in winter are cut, hauled, and floated to the river, and at the spring high water are sent down in huge rafts to the booms above the falls. Some of the rafts pass the city, but the majority of them are moored and sawed above. Those rafts that shoot the falls or originate below them glide down the quiet current of the Mississippi through scenes of ever-changing and radiant beauty. As you watch them floating almost motion- less on the glassy expanse of Lake Pepin, transfigured in the misty sunsets of the time of corn-stacking, you find it hard to realize that this intensely golden and po- etic atmosphere surrounds facts so prosaic. Reports for 1880 show that ahout 12,000,000 feet of sawed lumber were sent out of Minneapolis every thirty days, or nearly 150,000,000 feet a year. This would THE HOME OF HIAWATHA. 79 give enough boards one foot wide and an one of the loveliest bits of water the tour- inch thick, end to end, to build a single- ist will find any where, for its depths have plank walk around the world, and have that deep azure tint that belongs to the four or five thousand miles left over. purest water under summer skies, and its But it is not all business at Minneapolis; charmingly irregular shores, forested clear there is plenty of opportunity for amuse- down to the shining beach, break into new ment. Three or four miles west of the combinations of woodland beauty at every city lie two out of a dozen pretty lakes advance of your boat. Upon the banks of close together, which especially deserve mention; they are named Calhoun and Harriet, after the famous Southern Sen- ator and his wife, and find a place on maps long antedating the citys existence. A steam dummy engine runs out there on a miniature railway, dragging trains of open excursion cars. It seemed just like going to Coney Island as we rushed across the prairie at break-neck speed, part of a gay - spirited crowd. Extremes meet. These lakes have picnic grounds and boats to let, lunch-houses and side shows, and are surrounded by noble woods. You may fish, or botanize, or swing, or play ball, or flirt, or do what you please. A larger and better lake, however, is Minnetonka, sev- eral miles northwest, which the early voy- ageurs called the Lake of the Isles. This is this lake and upon the islands that stud its bosom many residences have been built, the summer homes not only of gentlemen who in the winter live in the neighboring cities, but also of many families from the South, even from New Orleans. This queen of the lake district is becoming more and more a favorite resort, and large preparations are making to accom- modate summer visitors. To the natural- ist Minnetonka is especially interesting because of the thronging animal life that peoples her shores and waters, because of the many legends of Sioux and Ojibbeway that are connected with her history, and because of the abundance of mounds and other relics of Indian occupation that may be discovered along her shores. The outlet of Lake Minnetonka is a STREET IN ST. rAUL. 80 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. sparkling little brook that encircles the city, steals throu~h the wheat fields, races under a dark culvert where the ph~be- birds breed, and then, with most gleeful abandon, leaps off a precipice sixty feet straight down into a maple-shadowed, brier-choked cafion, and prattles on as though nothing had happened but a bit of childish gymnastics. It is very charming, this rough and rock-hemmed little gorge through the woods and fern brakes, and this fraud,u- lent little beauty of a cascade; and it laughs without a prick of conscience, laughs in the most feminine and silvery tones from a rainbow-tinted and smiling face, when you remind it that it is a be- witching little thief of credit, for the true Minnehaha is over on the brimming river, a slave to the mills. But right or wrong, little stream, thou art a princess among all the cascades of the world. Thy beauty grows upon us and lingers in our minds like that of a lovely child, whether we wade into the brown water at thy feet, scaring the happy fishes clustered there, and gaze upward at the snowy festoons that with a soft hissing murmur of delight chase each other down the swift slope; or creep to thy grassy margin above, and try to count the wavelets crowding to glide so glibly over the round, transparent brink; or walk behind thy veil and view the green valley as thou seest it, through the silvery and iridescent haze of thy mist-drapery. Thou hast no need of a poets pen to sing thy praise; but had not the poet helped thy fraud, enchanting Minnehaha, not half this daily crowd would come to see thee, and to drink beer on thy banks and murmur maudlin non- sense about Hiawatha and his mythical maiden. Nevertheless, thou art the love- liest of cascades, and an enchantress whose sins can be forgiven because of thy beauty! St. Paul is not a manufacturing town like its sister; there are few factories in the place. It is as a distributing point. that it excels and grows rich. The fact that it is the head of steamboat navigation on the Mississippi and the centre of many railways is where its strength lies. Until about 1868 the river was the sole means of communication to the distant railway terruini and with St. Louis and the South- west. St. Pauls wholesale merchants are re- ported to sell about $40,000,000 of goods annually. They are able to do this be- cause, radiating from the capital in all di- rections, run effective lines of railway. In 1868 the nearest steam road was almost two hundred miles away; now fifteen lines centre here, several of which have their head-quarters in the city. SUNLIGHT MYSTERIES. Tf HERE is a chapter of history yet un- I written. Some day will provide the hour and the man to tell the story. Then the forgotten name of 0. M. Mitchell will be duly honored by American science. Not great in himself, he was the source of greatness in others. What he lacked in knowledge he made up in enthusiasm. He preached a crusade, and his followers erected domes on many a hill-top, and planted telescopes therein. His was the fervor, theirs the faith. The harvest of long tubes and broad lenses was plentiful, but tbe efficient laborers in the observa- tories were few. Mr. Mitchell lectured on astronomy in many cities and towns, wherever he could get an audience, throughout the country. He was thoroughly in earnest, and there- fore he interested his hearers. He told of what might be seen in the nightly skies, and every man in the audience felt a MOUNT WHITNEY.

SUNLIGHT MYSTERIES. Tf HERE is a chapter of history yet un- I written. Some day will provide the hour and the man to tell the story. Then the forgotten name of 0. M. Mitchell will be duly honored by American science. Not great in himself, he was the source of greatness in others. What he lacked in knowledge he made up in enthusiasm. He preached a crusade, and his followers erected domes on many a hill-top, and planted telescopes therein. His was the fervor, theirs the faith. The harvest of long tubes and broad lenses was plentiful, but tbe efficient laborers in the observa- tories were few. Mr. Mitchell lectured on astronomy in many cities and towns, wherever he could get an audience, throughout the country. He was thoroughly in earnest, and there- fore he interested his hearers. He told of what might be seen in the nightly skies, and every man in the audience felt a MOUNT WHITNEY. 82 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. wish to become a Newton or a Herschel. ed, and then at once proceed to make new Nothing could be simpler than his pro- discoveries. Strange to say, there are gramme. Get a large telescope (the larger many people yet who have no other no- the better), properly housed and mount- tion of astronomy. UPPER CAMP MOUNT WHITNEY. SUNLIGHT MYSTERIES. 83 We have not space here to tell how Mr. Mitchell brought about the building and equipping of an observatory near Cincin- nati. The first subscribers to the enter- prise had scarcely any money to spare, but some of them gave land, others build- ing materials, and several assisted in the manual labor. At last the structure rose, and the telescope was bought on credit. Then certain gentlemen of Cincinnati per- mitted the use of their names as trustees. They took care, however, to avoid all risk and expense, and to secure free tickets to Mr. Mitchells lectures. If the story could be fully told, you would smile at it through tears. Here is one of the stipulations: Any. 8.It shall be the duty of the astron- omer to take charge of the observatory, and the books, instruments, and apparatus therein, belonging to the society, and preserve them as far as possible in complete order. He shall conduct a series of scientific observations such us may, in conjunction with other similar ob- servations, conduce to new discoveries and perfect those already made in the heavens. It shall further be his duty, by himself or such assistants as he may from time to time ap- point, to aid in gratifying the enriosity of such members of the society as may desire to ex- amine the heavens throngh the telescope. He shall also deliver each year a course of lec- tures before such members of the society and such other citizens as may purchase a ticket to the same; the sale of these tickets to con- stitute his only compensation for the services rendered to the society, provided that the owner of two or more shares shall be entitled to free admittance to all such lectures. Similar enterprises, struggling with like difficulties, per aspera ad astra, sprang up in the wake of Mr. Mitchells crusade. Many of them never reached the altitude of having a large telescope and a load of .debt; very few passed that point. Among the latter was one founded in a suburb of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Fair science frowned not on its humble birth. Two pieces of great good luck caine to this ob- servatory: a young astronomer of zeal and ability was made its director; a liber- al-minded citizen of Pittsburgh became its helper. It has the disadvantage of over- looking the smokiest city in America. Even on the hill where the observatory stands your hands are blackened when you open a gate, and you can see little flakes of soot falling slowly through the sunshine. Astronomy has differentiated. There is the old and the new, each having its VOL. LXYJLNo. 3976 own work. The old is the classic science. Its triumphs are won by the aid of math- ematics; its labors are the refinement of precision. The new study accepts with thanks all that the elder branch provides, but seeks fresh light from a different di- rection. Either celestial physics or physical astronomy is the title by which the young scion is now generally known, but probably our children will invent a shorter and more convenient name. Let us frankly admit that we can not call a man a physicist without a muscular effort, and a fear that some unlearned by-stander may think we mean a physician. The distinction between the two kinds of astronomy is well marked. One deals with the places and motions of the heavenly bodies; the other strives to ascertain the materials of sun and stars, and the effects of their radiations. It is the business of the first to say where things are; of the second to say what they are. The Allegheny Observatory, under the charge of Professor S. P. Lang- ley, is one of the younger kind; it is de- voted to solar physics. There are men to whom the question whether the sun is ninety-two and a half or ninety-three million miles from us is of more interest than the opportunity of hearing Patti or seeing Langtry, or even than the certainty of three meals a day. Some of these men have recently gone to the ends of the earth to observe the trans- it of Venus. They hope thereby to mea- sure the suns distance a very little more accurately. With the best possible luck, these experts in the elder branch of as- tronomy can only have the pleasure of helping to solve a mathematical problem. The younger science offers a more palpa- ble kind of enjoyment. It deals with light and warmth and color. Its proofs appeal to our senses as well as to our rea- son. All of its experiments are delicate; some of them are exquisitely beautiful. To many of our readers, though not to those who have perused a recent work of Dr. C. A. Young, it may be as new as it was to the writer to learn that light from different parts of the solar disk is of dif- ferent colors. The apparatus by which this is shown throws two patches of light side by side on a screen; they are as un- like in hue as a sapphire and a garnet. One is light from the centre of the suns disk, and has a decidedly blue tint; the other is light from near the edge of the 84 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. sun, and has a murky, chocolate color. The difference is due to the fact that rays from any part of the sun near its edge must pass to us through a much greater thickness of the solar atmosphere than rays from the centre. Draw two concen- tric circles, the space between them repre- senting the suns atmosphere, the inner circle the sun. To a point where the observer is supposed to be, outside the cir- cles, and on a level with their centre, draw two RAYS THROUGH SOLAR lines from the ATMOSPHERE. inner circle, one from the top or bottom, the other from the middle. It will be seen at a glance that the line from top or bottom passes through a greater space between the circles than the central line. There is no doubt that the sun has an atmosphere, an envelope of thousands of miles in thickness. In respect to the prop- erty of cutting off blue rays, and permit- ting red ones to pass, there is a curious similarity between the atmosphere of the sun and that of the earth. Most of us have noticed that sunlight near sunset, when the rays can only come to us through a far greater breadth of air than at noon, has a reddish tinge. It has been generally supposed that the vapor of water in the lower strata of our air has most influence on the color of the sunset rays. But this can hardly be the case with the suns atmosphere. True, an eminent Italian savant has put on record some spectroscope observations that he regarded as showing traces of wa- tery vapor in the envelope of the suna locality which we should naturally sup- pose to be drier than the skeletons of a medical museum. Whatever may be the explanation, the striking fact remains of this similarity of atmospheres under total- ly unlike conditions. Several years ago Professor Langley made the observations on difference of color, and it interested him so deeply as to give a permanent di- rection to his studies. He wished to learn more about the sun-rays, and of the ef- fect upon them of absorptions by both at- mospheres. If some superior being could and would confer upon us a revelation answering all questions about solar light and heat, the welfare of civilized man could soon be ad- vanced by longer strides than have result- ed from the uses of steam and electricity. We are wholly dependent in many ways upon the emanations of the sun for con- tinued existence. All our food and cloth- ing has been made by the absorption of the solar rays. We are souls of fire and children of the sun. By whatever path we seek the laws and causes that govern climate, harvests, weather, we shall find their origin at the centre of the solar system. A complete science of the sun would enable us to foresee the years of famine or of plenty as surely as we now predict the positions of the planets. A perfect system of weather forecasts would take the place of uncertain prob- abilities. The date foi~ the coming of the frost-king, or of the overflows when his icy fetters are broken, could be named ev- ery year far in advance. The navigator might learn before he started on a voy- age what storms he could avoid, or when and where he must prepare for their en- counter. With such objects in view, the younger science is begging for help and recognition. Meanwhile the old estab- lished astronomy has all the national aid and nine-tenths of all private endowments. In the new researches not only is there no royal road, there is not even an opened path. The way must be found by care- ful observation and measurement. At Allegheny experiments have been espe- cially directed toward finding just how the suns light and heat are modified by intervening atmospheres. In 18789 a systematic work was begun in measuring exactly the degree of heat in all parts of the solar spectrum. Previous studies of this kind had been made by experimenters who used the spectrum thrown by a prism. It was proposed instead to investigate the spectrum given by a diffraction grat- ing. There were good reasons for this choice. A grating is a surface of glass or of speculum metal scratched with par- allel lines by means of a diamond guided by a ruling machine. The iridescent col- ors of mother-of-pearl, and of the wing- cases of certain insects, are similarly the result of numerous lines, close together, which can be seen by the microscope. It is said that the play of colors can be trans- ferred to white sealing - wax by simply taking an impression from the mother- of-pearl. The spectroscope gratings that SUNLIGHT MYSTERIES. 85 give the best results are ruled with from eighteen thousand to thirty thousand lines to the inch. Latterly some great im- provements have been made in this kind of apparatus by better ruling and by giv- ing the grating a slight concavity. The spectrum is reflected from the. ruled sur- face, and can either be thrown on a screen or observed with a telescope. The screen is, of course, to be placed at the focal point where the concave form of the grating makes the reflected image brightest. The writer had an opportunity of seeing what could be done with an excellent grat- ing on a day of superb sunshine at Alle- gheny. To those who have never looked through a spectroscope no description can give an idea of the purity and beauty of the colors which it reveals, blending them from tint to tint in an unbroken harmony. The sharpness of the Fraunhofer lines was, however, the most interesting feature of this occasion. Scarcely more than ten years ago the announcement was still made in standard treatises that between the D lines in the spectrum (which are caused by the vapor of sodium in the sun) a fine line appears in a very perfect instru- ment. Soon after it was first seen this line was identified as one of the many that are produced by the vapor of nickel, and its visibility became a test of the good- ness of a spectroscope. The apparatus at Allegheny, when the spectrum was thrown on a screen, showed the two D lines wide apart, with the nickel line plainly to be seen between. A small telescope was then substituted for the screen. The writ- er again examined the space between the D lines, and though not skilled in such work, found without effort two lines, some- what faint, yet distinctly visible, in the in- terval. Fourteen were counted by an- other observer. The great advantage of the diffraction spectrum over that given by a prism is that the former presents the rays in an orderly manner. Without going into ab- struse details, it may be briefly stated that the image obtained from a grating has been properly called the normal spectrum, because the rays in it are dispersed equally throughout its extent, and their places in it are proportional to the length of their waves. Every spectrum is composed of rays that have been bent; that is, on leav- ing the prism or grating they travel in a new direction. In the normal spectrum there is a certain angular distance by which each ray diverges from the straight line that uninterrupted light would have taken. That distance, as may be shown by a simple problem in geometry, is pro- portional to the wave-length of each ray. Prisms distribute the rays unequally. In the spectrum produced by flint-glass, the blue end, containing the rays of short wave-length, is well displayed; but the red end, where are the rays of long wave- length, presents them crowded together. The normal spectrum, on the other hand, as given by even the best of gratings, has its inconveniences. It gives several spec- tral images instead of one; these partly overlap, and have to be separated. In some parts of it the heat is very faint. Speaking of heat, an apology is needed. Science sometimes blunders. Until very recent years text-books have given forth the notion that there are three distinct kinds of rays emanating from the sun-- light rays, heat rays, and actinic or chem- ical raysand that these occupy different portions of the spectrum, though overlap- ping in its middle region, leaving one end bare of heat and light, and the other end bare of light and actinic power. This no- tion, with all that it implies, is now dis- carded. Dr. Young states the correct view as follows: All the waves of solar radia- tion are carriers of energy, and when in- tercepted do work, producing heat, or vis- ion, or chemical action, according to cir- cumstances. It may be convenient to speak of heat rays, but it is not accurate. Actinic power has been found throughout more and more of the spectrum, by using chemicals that are duly sensitive. Cap- tain W. de W. Abney, of the Royal Engi- neers, is said to be able to photograph a tea-kettle at boiling heat by its own radia- tions in total darkness; Horace Greeley was not mistaken in his use of plain hot water as a stimulant drink. The experi- ments at Allegheny prove that there is measurable heat in every part of the spec- trum. As to light, the human eye is lim- ited in its range. The optic nerve does not respond to rays of very short or very long wave-length. Hence we do not see either end of the spectrum. All our senses are in like manner limited; for instance, sound waves of very high or very low pitch are inaudible. There is strong evi- deuce that certain animals hear sound waves that are not sounds to us, and that other animals get the sensation of light, if not of color, from waves of slow vibra 4 86 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. tion which have no effect upon our eyes. We may form a new conception of the flames imagined by Milton, that give forth no light, but rather darkness visible. The normal spectrum spreads out in regular proportion the red end and also the invisible rays beyond the red. To make a chart of this unseen portion was part of the task which Professor Langley undertook. He proceeded to measure and map the heat of the entire spectrum. Mel- loni was the first to show that heat may vary in quality as light does in color. The Allegheny experiments led early to the conclusion that there are not only as many kinds of heat as there are colors of light, but in fact a far greater number and variety, because of a much more ex- tended range. Perhaps there are animals capable of perceiving differences of quali- ty akin to color in heat of varying wave- lengths; to us there is only one kind of differencethat of degree. In experiments made by Dr. John W. Draper the heat in the rays spread out by a grating had been found too faint for measurement, except by concentrating all that fall in half or more than half of the spectrum. To carry out the research pro- posed at Allegheny, to ascertain the tem- perature for each wave-length, required something that would measure very mi- nute degrees of heat indeed. For fonr years Professor Langley, in the intervals of other work, strove to do this with ther- mo-piles and like contrivances. At last, in sheer desperation, he was compelled to invent a new instrument. Nearly a year was spent in constructing, testing, and perfecting; in overcoming a thousand dif- ficulties and discouragements; in supply- ing the various precautions taught by a rather long and painful experience,~~ which, no doubt, proved the best of teach- ers. A portion of the income from a fund left by Count Rumford in charge of the National Academy of Sciences was appro- priated to help this work at the observa- tory. The liberal citizen of Pittsburgh who has been before referred to defrayed the heavy cost of various materials used in experiment and construction, and also of pieces of fine mechanism that had to be purchased. He will be most pleased if his name is not mentioned here, though to give it would be fulfilling the principle of the greatest happiness to the greatest num- ber. At last the instrument was finished, and it was called the bolometer. To give any idea of this invention we shall have to drag our readers over the corners of a diagram, but it shall be done as gently as possible. To begin with, a galvanometer is requireda contrivance which, when electricity. passes through it, shows the strength of the current by the movement of a pointer on a dial. The galvanometer may be supposed to be placed in the mid- dle of an arrangement of wires, named, in honor of its inventor, Wheatstones bridge. This in the diagram is diamond- shaped, but in practice may have any form, so long as the arms are equal: there are cross wires at the junc- tions of the arms that enter into the galvanome- ter. A battery is connected with the bridge. The result of this arrangement is WHEAT5TONE5 BRIDGE. that if the cur- rent passing through the arms of the bridge be of equal strength in each, the galvanometer pointer does not move, be- cause the forces are balanced; but if the current be stronger on one side, the pointer will indicate the difference of strength by a proportionate movement over the dial. When a metal is heated, it offers increased resistance to the passage of the electric current. Hence if only one of the arms of the bridge were heated while the cur- rent was passing, the pointer would move in proportion to the increment of electrical resistance on that side, and thus indicate the amount of heat absorbed by the wire. To obtain more delicate indications, part of each arm of the bridge was made of thin strips of metal. This was the first step toward a bolometer. For conven- ience each arm was extended by a loop of wire, and the extremity of each loop was made of strips of metal united alternately at their edges like a Jacobs ladder. The two bunches of strips were then brought together (but not in electrical contact), and were put into a cylindrical wooden case to protect them from accidental heat, such as would be given in handling or by ordinary currents of air. Various im- provements were made. It was found SUNLIGHT MYSTERIES. 87 best to split the bunch of strips belonging but even a specific tariff that might satisfy to one arm into halves and place the Pennsylvania would not bear heavily on other whole bunch between the halves; sheet - iron strips from one - fifteen - thou- this brought the undivided bunch into the sandth to one-eighteen-thousandth of an inch thick, of which it may be _ as truly said as of ____ -~ New Jersey mos- quitoes, manyof them will weigh a THE BOLOMETER. pound. A bolometer axis of the cylinder. A hard rubber tube, could be constructed, Professor Langley of about the size of a roll of music, was asserts, which would be far more sensi- then substituted for the wooden cylinder. tive than the one described, but it would The wires were brought in at one end of not measure heat so accurately. Most the tube, their loops ending in metallic people will be satisfied, however, with strips at its middle, and its other end be- the present instrument, which will give lug open. Then a lid, with a hole in the with exactness a change of temperature centre, capped the open end, the construc- of a ten-thousandth of a degree Centi- tion being such that the hole could be grade, and show some effect from a one- enlarged or diminished. Sundry dia- hundred - thousandth. At times during phragms (circles of card-board, each hay- experiments clouds of invisible vapor are ing a hole in the middle) were inserted seen by the eye of the bolometer, and in the open end of the tube at intervals they record their passage occasionally in in the space between the cap and the the brightest and purest sunshine. Of bunches of strips, the object being to cut these clouds no other instrument bears off undesirable heat. The bolometer thus such distinct witness. Quickness is one constructed was set to work by starting of the bolometric virtues. Ten seconds a suitable current from the battery, and are enough for displaying the heat in placing the tube so that the heat to be certain ultra-violet rays. If a two-pound examined should go straight along its lump of ice at freezing-point should get axis to the central bunch of metallic only the warmth of those same rays stead- strips. ily for a thousand years, it would scarcely Then came a long series of experiments be melted. The last statement will have with strips of different metals under va- to be taken on trust, as the writer had not rious conditions. The tests included gold-leaf gummed on glass, gold-foil, platinum-foil, various grades of plati- num wire, including some only a thou- sandth of a centimeter in thickness, extremely thin sheet-iron, steel, and finally palladium. The difference be- tween bright metals and those obscured by camphor smoke was also noted. The strips were about the length and width of an ordinary paring from a thumb- nail, but thinner than the lightest tis- sue-paper. Good results were obtained from strips one centimeter long, one millimeter wide, and from a hundredth to a five-hundredth of a millimeter in thickness. An excellent instrument was made with platinum, rolled by Tiffany and Co., of a thickness, or rather time to stay at Allegheny and see it yen- a thinness, according to the measurements fled. of Professor 0. N. Rood, of less than one- In bolometer experiments no lenses con- twenty-five-thousandth of an inch. Most centrate the sunlight. It is taken au nct- of the metals were rolled in this country, turd, and reflected where it is wanted by THE BOLOMETER IN ELECTRIC CIRCUIT. 88 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. means of a mirror moved by clock-work. The contrivance is a modification of the trick of the small boy who with a piece of looking-glass throws a blinding flash of sunshine into a by-passers eyes. For the purposes of science the beam of re- flected light is required to shine steadily at one spot, where it can pass through a hole in the wall of the laboratory. The hole is a slit whose width can be regula- ted, so that, if needed, the line of light which it admits may be reduced to the nierest thread. After passing through the slit, the light strikes directly on the grat- ing, placed at the farther end of the labo- ratory, and is reflected back at an angle, and spreads out in the beautifu] colors of the spectrum. The angle, as before ex- plained, furnishes a measure of the wave- length. The bolometer is placed with its open end toward the grating, so as to catch the small portion of the spectrum which is to be examined. The electrical apparatus is connected with the bolom- eter, and then, after everything is proper- ly adjusted, we may proceed to business. But it should be mentioned that so much care has to be spent upon adjustments of electrical and other apparatus that if one person undertook to get ready without as- sistance, his experiment would not begin much before sundown. Vapors of metals inconceivably hot, yet cooler than the mass of the sun beneath them, floating on the solar surface, inter- cept certain parts of the sunbeam, and cast, as it were, shadows in their place. The dark lines of the spectrum are these shadowsmere shades of semi-transpar- ent vapor, ninety-two million miles away. Incredible as it may seem, the slight loss of heat which the shadows cause can be measured. The in- strument which per- forms this marvel is called the linear~~ bolometer; it presents only the edge of a me- tallic strip to the sun- beama thickness lit- ORIGIN OF FRAUNIIOFF.R tle greater than the LINE. spectral line. The de- monstration, as wit nessed by the writer, is complete and con- vincing. A kind of magic lantern throws an enlarged image of the galvanometer upon a ground-glass screen, and the move- ments of the pointer are thus made to ap- pear in inches instead of in hair-breadths. By the turning of a screw the whole spectrum can be slowly shifted along be- fore the eye of the bolometer. When the experiment begins, however, the instru- ment is blind, because a small sliding shutter has been dropped across the slit in the wall, cutting off the sunbeam. At a signal the shutter rises; almost instantly the image of the galvanometer needle flies along the scale, and quivers before the fig- ure that marks the temperature of that particular ray which is entering the bo- lometer. The shutter is dropped, the nee- dle flies back to its starting-point, and we are ready for another observation. Let us suppose we are examining a certain part of the spectrum; for instance, the vi- cinity of the B line. The shutter being raised, the temperature of the part of the spectrum examined is shown by a move- ment of the needle of three hundred points on the scale. Closing the shutter, perhaps we turn the screw a very little, and repeat the experiment with the same result. But another turn of the screw brings the B line into the eye of the bolometer, and then when the shutter is raised, the nee- dle only moves ten points instead of three hundred. The most striking of these experiments are in the invisible end of the spectrum, far beyond the red rays. There, where the keenest eye sees no light, and the best thermometer, or even thermo-pile, finds no heat, the bolometer displays the effect of solar radiation distinctly. More than this; it tells of invisible shadows, spectral lines among these viewless rays, and measures in inches the heat they inter- cept. It is as if one should see the ghost of a ghost. Here lies the field for future discoveries, when we shall ascertain what are the substances whose vapors make these unseen shadows. Meanwhile let us not be unhappy because we can not see the extreme ends of the spectrum, for who would wish to be as sensitive as a bolom- eter? Little has been said of the many pre- cautions that have to be observed in mak- ing these experiments; of the various ways in which they have been repeated with different tests and surroundings; of the nice reading of scales and position angles with microscopes; of the calculations en- tailed by allowing for absorptions and other contingencies. The magician of to- day does not cry Open, sesame ! to the rock that conceals natures mysteries; lie SUNLIGHT MYSTERIES. 89 strives to dislodge it by long and patient toil. Already we have some results. Since the time of Newton it has been assumed that all the radiations of the sun were to be found in the spectrum, and that these reunited make white light. There is also a tacit assumption that white light is pure sunlight. Some of the early experiments at Allegheny have been mentioned which showed that the light as we receive it has been somewhat altered by the suns atmos- phere. The change is an absorption of rays from the blue end of the spectrum. It follows that our sunlight is more red and less blue, and far less intense, than it would be if the solar atmosphere did not intervene. But we are concerned with something nearer home. Our own atmos- phere repeats the performance, strangles many rays at the blue end of the spectrum, and comparatively few at the red end. What does this mean? Let us shake hands with our friend who wears green goggles. We too have all our lives seen things in a false light. If we could place ourselves outside our atmospheresay on the moonwe should find that sunlight is not white; that the suii itself is really blue. To the inhabitants of other worlds than ours the sun may be a bluer star than Vega. At Allegheny the series of experiments leading to such a result consisted chiefly in comparing the rays from the mid-day sun with those received when the orb ap- proached the horizon. But though the experiments were conducted in winter our driest seasonthey left some uncer- tainty on two pointsthe effect of moisture in the air, and the question whether the ~mbsorption of blue rays was in like propor- tion to thickness of atmosphere at greater heights. To decide these and similar questions it was deemed advisable to make an expedition to the driest place and the highest mountain in the United States. Before we can attain much accuracy in one of the most important of modern studiesweather sciencewe must at all events learn more on three points: the to- tal heat of the sun, so as to know if it va- ries; the amount of absorption by dry and moist air respectively; the kinds of heat absorbed. The value of this class of re- searches was recognized by General Hazen of the United States Signal Service, and the help of the War Department was se cured for the proposed expedition. Again the public-spirited citizen of Pittsburgh gave the most essential aid by defraying the entire cost of the special instruments and apparatus required. The Pennsylva- nia Railroad provided transportation for the explorers and their cumbrous equip- ments in a Pullman car. Let us never again hear the taunt of soulless corpora- tions. Mount Whitney, in the Sierra Nevada of Southern California, was selected as the goal of promise. This choice was made after conferring with officers of the army and of the Coast Survey who were familiar with the Western wilderness. The mountain rises nearly to the height of Mont Blanc. It is in one of the most arid regions on the globe. So steep is it that two stations can be placed upon it within easy signaling distance of each oth- er, but differing in elevation by more than two miles. Little was known beforehand as to the possibility of carrying the bulky implenients of science up the mountain. Through the representations of General Hazen, a small military escort, under the command of Captain Michaelis, U.S.A., was provided, both as a measure of securi- ty and, in case of need, to assist in trans- portation. Four of the exploring party started from Pittsburgh last summer, and were joined at San Francisco by three others and the escort. A point about four hun- dred miles farther south was reached by railway travel. At Caliente the comforts of the Pullman car were left behind, and the party began a slow march across the Inyo desert. For one hundred and twen- ty miles this part of the route was shade- less and waterless. They passed by Deaths Valley, two hundred feet below sea-level, where, only a few years ago, an entire emigrant train perished miserably. The mountain range shuts this district from the rest of California. When a star route was established to carry the mail from Caliente through this valley, water had to be hauled twenty miles to the stage stations. A camp was pitched at the foot of the Sierras, near a place called Lone Pine. It is a fair specimen of Southwestern frontier towns, and consists chiefly of one street. When a lucky party of Mexicans are vis- iting the town, playing-cards thrown out of the windows litter the street as with autumn leaves. Spasms of morality are 90 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. felt at intervals in Lone Pine, social earth- quakes, when superfluous gamblers must get out or be wiped out. The tone of so- ciety is better than in some towns farther down the border Parsontown, for in- stance, which is famous for its three suc- cessive clergymen. The first of these shepherds shot the husband of one of his flock, and married the widow. The sec- ond was partner in a faro bank, and lost influence because his pard cheated. The third, in addition to his religious du- ties at Parsontown, kept one of the stage stations on the star route. He had his enemies; one of them came fooling around the station, and was shot by the preacher. So far there was nothing startling. But provisions were scarce, and the clergy- man fed stage-passengers on broiled and jerked enemy for several days. An army surgeon happened that way, dined on a cutlet, and recognized one of the bones as human. Clergyman No. 3 fled; he was afterward captured, and suspended at once from the ministry and a pine branch. Parsontown has now no regular preach- ing. The camp near Lone Pine was organ- ized for continual use as a low-level sta- tion during the stay of the scientific party. Numerous observations were to be taken there and on the mountain simultaneously each day, and in different parts of the day. The Lone Pine station being far below, its observations would show the effect, as compared with those of the mountain-top, of a very much greater thickness of at- mosphere. Mount Whitney was in plain sight from the lower camp; apparently within gun- shot. When a picture was taken that mountain seemed to be part of the range of peaks in the foreground, or at farthest a little back of them; in fact it was a long way behind, and at least four thousand feet higher than the intervening peaks. Patches of white oii its gray and jagged outline were found to be snow; and what seemed a coating of moss turned into broad forests when the telescope was brought to bear. The deceptive effect was caused by the extreme dryness and purity of the atmosphere, and the absence of what artists call aerial perspective. We ordinarily judge of the distance of an object in a landscape by its comparative dimness. The mountain was really more than fifteen miles away. After some exploration it was found im possible to carry the apparatus up the nearest side. To reach the desired point a d~tour had to be made around to the farther side of the mountain. Seven or eight days were thus consumed. Patient mules carried their valuable burdens of siderostats, telescopes, bolometers, acti- nometers, pyrheliometers, and the like, up stony heights and around sharp peaks, without serious mishap. The mountain has been rarely if ever before ascended; certainly never with such luggage. As the party went higher the air grew colder and the sunshine hotter. Those men of science had been tanned by weeks of exposure in the desert, with the shaded thermometer at 1100 F. Yet after they reached the level of perpetual snow, the suns rays burned their hands and faces anew and very severely. Most of the party looked as though they had been scorched by fire. It is worth noting that this was not caused by reflection from snow, to which similar experience of Al- pine climbers has been attributed. The party on Mount Whitney received their worst sunburn when travelling over bare rocks, though isolated snow - fields lay above and below. A camp was pitched at an altitude of 13,000 feet, and the heavier apparatus was placed there. The peak rises 2000 feet higher, and was climbed every day by ob- servers carrying portable instruments. The side of the peak nearest the camp was an almost vertical sheet of dark gray granite, seamed here and there by gullies filled with bowlders that occupied the beds of old water-courses. A little streamlet gleamed at intervals in one of the clefts~ It was fed from snows above, and served to make a small swampy meadow and a. pond, on the ledge selected for the camp. The pond has been dignified, in Western vernacular, with the title of a lake. At such elevations, with only tents for shelter, with high winds and cold and mountain sickness, there was little com- fort and some trouble in making the nice and numerous observations laid down in the programme. Accidents will happen, too, even to parties in the highest posi- tions. An excellent telescope, kindly lent by the astronomer of Harvard Uni- versity, was found (too late for remedy to be suffering from a disorder of its eye- pieces. A large and very costly mirror,. covered with a face of silver, polished with exquisite skill, and carefully wrapped~ SUNLIGHT MYSTERIES. 91~ having escaped all the dangers of the way, was placed one night ready for immediate service. In the morning its surface was found covered with a net-work of miscel- laneous scratches. It had suffered at the hands of friendship. One of the soldiers, wishing to do a kindly deed for the pro- fessor, had gone to work in the morning twilight with his buckskin gloves at the mirror. He had polished as faithfully as the ruler of the Queens navee, and left the instrument with about as much capacity for reflection as a tin pan. The professor had, however, some unexpected reflec- tions. In spite of all difficulties, the experi- ments were very fully carried out. A mass of observations was taken on the mountain and simultaneously at its base. Some time has been spent in reducing these since the return to Allegheny. A formal scientific report to the War Depart- ment is in preparation. If addressed to the world of science, it might properly be- gin with the stereotyped phrase of mercan- tile circulars from the East Indies: Gen- tlemen; we have the honor to confirm our previous advices. Sir John Herschel at the Cape of Good Hope found that the suns rays were hot enough without concentration by lens or mirror to cook a family dinner. It was only necessary to place the raw food in an open metallic vessel, put that in the Afri- can sand exposed to sunshine, and cover the whole with glass after the manner of a hot-bed. Certain solar rays go through the glass almost as easily as they come from the sun, but they can not so readi- ly return till they leave some of their heat behind. Theirs is the predicament of the fox that squeezed himself into the hen- coop, but found that he could not get out without disgorging his meal. In one of the experiments near the summit of Mount Whitney, a copper vessel was simply cov- ered with two sheets of plain window glass, and exposed direct to the sun; the temperature within the vessel soon rose above boiling-point. A solar engine might be set to work there in the midst of a snow-field, making its steam without fuel, fire, or concentrating lenses. This discov- ery should be commended to the heat, light, and power companies that are tear- ing up the streets of New York; they might be induced to transfer their opera- tions to Mount Whitney. The whole globe has been compared to a hot-bed, of which our air is the glass.. From experiments of the class described,. Herschel and, separately, Pouillet inferred that the suns heat is great enough to melt in one year a crust of ice one hundred feet thick covering the entire globeboth the day and night sides. Numerous trials have been made since then to solve this problem more accurately. The quantity of the suns heat, or its melting power, is called in scientific jargon the solar con- stant. As has been said, this lies at the base of a correct science of meteorology. The Mount Whitney observations show the sun to be hotter than was supposed.. The heat received at the earths surface is probably more by one-half than was esti- mated by Herschel and Ponillet, and even materially exceeds the values assigned by more recent investigators. It would in one year melt a crust of ice over the whole sunward half. of the earth six hundred feet thick. This is, of course, a statement in very round numbers. The scientific: phrase would be that the suns vertical energy could raise the temperature of one gram of distilled water three degrees Cen- tigrade per minute fo~ each centimeter of the earths surface nominally exposed. Having supplied us with an increased amount of heat, the Mount Whitney ex- periments also favor us with new figures. of intenser cold. The estimates of Her- schel and Ponillet made the temperature of space 224~ below the zero of Fahrenheit. The new results carry it down nearly to the calculations for the absolute zero, the absence of all heat, say minus 4590 F. To the non-scientific mind the distinction between such far-down temperatures is~ not unlike that between the pains of rheumatism and those of gout, the first being as from a thumbscrew twisted to the last point of human endurance, the gout giving one turn more. Further, it appears that the direct heat- ing power of the sun can not raise a ther- mometer quite 500 F. above its surround- ings, whatever they may be. If we sup-- pose the whole globe a thermometer, and without an atmosphere, the sun could only heat it fifty degrees above the cold of space, leaving it at about minus 4O0~ F. under full sunshine. The internal heat of the earth may be disregarded in these calculations. It seems paradoxical to say that if the atmosphere were removed from the earth, its surface would receive more heat and yet be much colder. But this j5 32 HAHPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. a fact of the same kind as our experience in ascending a mountain. The atmosphere does indeed cut off a great deal of heat, but on the other hand it keeps a great deal of that which it permits to pass through. When the air is heated up to its retaining capacity an equilibrium is established. To illustrate: let us imagine a large, empty, windowless hall, with two doors par- tially obstructed by Centennial turnstiles, one for entry and one for exit. A pro- cession of one hundred persons enters per minute. At first there is abundant room; few want to come out. At the end of the second or third minute perhaps only three people are leaving for one hundred arriving. After a longer interval the number of departing guests is much greater. At last the hall is crowded to its utmost capacity, and if we still suppose one hundred per minute entering, it is absolutely certain that one hundred per minute must be getting out. This final condition is one which we may call equilibrium. If the turnstiles of Centennial pattern record their turnings, we can ascertain exactly how many people are in the hall at any moment. Now to apply the illustration to heat-bearing rays entering our atmosphere, we may suppose that nearly all reach the soil through radiation; that ninety per cent. go out through the regular exit of con- vection; nine per cent. squeeze back through the turnstile by which they entered radiation; and one per cent. climb out through the chimney of conduction. It follows that by merely regulating the turnstiles, by modifying this capacity for selecting and holding rays of certain wave-lengths, atmospheres could be constructed which would keep the planet Mercury cool, or the far-off Neptune com- fortably warm. Here is a hint for romancers who wish to plant their dramatis personce in some other world. The Allegheny and Mount Whitney observations firmly estab- lish the fact that the sun is blue. The particular shade of color which it has, if viewed without intervening atmosphere, may be laid down as that on the border of the blue near the green, about where the line F appears in the spectrum. Sad to say, this is ot an resthetic hue; it is more like that referred to in one of Southeys poems: You could almost smell brimstone, their breath was so blue, for he painted the devils so well. The sky, as seen from the summit of Mount Whitney, was of a deeper violet than had been observed elsewhere, even atMount ZEtna, in Sicily. The air was extremely dry, no mist or fog being at any time apparent. In another set of experiments, not here de- scribed, Professor Langley determined exactly how much and what kind of heat was lost during the operation of the bolometer. The silver of the mirror, the glass, the grating, even the lamp- -~ black on the metallic - -- strips, each se 40 CO 10 100 120 140 100, 180 ~00 , 220 240 260 280 I I I IIIIIfHIIIKII!!ItftUKt IIf~ fIIEIII~IIIfH III I LIII VII Y IIiMi I I~II II I II IIlIIIIIIIIII~IIIfIIBIIIW If ~iIIl I tIff III ~I~f huN II F D CB A VISIBLE SCECTIIUII INVISIBLE SPECTRUM NEWLY RAPPED INVISIBLB REGION ALREADy ENOWN NORMAL SPECTRUM. lects and abstracts certain rays. Full allowance was made for these absorptions.* When the final result is presented graphically, it shows that at the earths surface the hottest part of the spectrum is near the orange. This is quite different from previous * The curious fact prcsented itself in the course of these experiments that lamp-black, which is one of the most opaque substances known, is more or less transparent to some of the invisible rays. SUNLIGHT MYSTERIES. 93 conceptions. The diagram which makes this display for the normal spectrum shows three curves, each somewhat irregular. The lowest of these represents the solar energy as we receive it, at sea-level; the second, the distribution of that energy in regions outside our atmosphere; the third, the distribution at the photosphere of the sun before the solar atmosphere has inter- vened. The similarity of these curves is striking. Another diagram gives the dis- tribution of energy in the prismatic spec- trum, in which the red end is abnormally crowded, while the blue end is unduly ex- tended. The curves are constructed by scale from actual and repeated measures with the bolometer, photometer, and other instruments. Deep notches in the curves, showing the decrease of energy at certain points, are found to correspond exactly with the more marked Fraunhofer lines will only believe what they see, must wait awhile for the photograph to overtake the bolometer. This viewless energy is not a mere ab- straction. It is two-thirds of all that gives our warmth, our weather, and our crops. Before the observations here described were made, it was supposed that our atmos- phere absorbed the invisible rays below the red very much, and the visible very little. Now the fact is found to be exactly the other way. The absorption increases in regular gradation from the red end toward the violet. Important as are the observations of the new astronomy up to the present time, 47~ 40~ 4~9 60 & o 100 120 140 160 100 200 220 240260 280 D CB A fl so far as they are visible. The existence of similar lines in the invisible part of the spectrum has been partially demonstrated by photography as well as by the bolom- eter. Groping in the dark is a good de- scriptive title for the work of mapping the spectrum beyond the visible rays. Much labor is here required to measure wave- lengths accurately; one of them has ab- sorbed two weeks of continuous experi- ment. The exact relation between the prismatic and the normal spectrum has been determined. The great extension of the spectral field is an important result. It is as if the compass of a well-known musical instrument had been enlarged by additional octaves. The visible part of the spectrum is little more than an eighth of the whole. About three times as large a space had been somewhat known to in- vestigators of the ultra-red region, and has been recently photographed by Cap- tain Abney. The new researches of Pro- fessor Langley double the length of this invisible end. Doubting Thomases, who they are only the beginnings of knowledge. They will appear merely as outline sketch- es when the hand of science can complete the picture. Nothing could be conceived as more unpractical than the study of the stars, and yet no professed philanthropy has been of half so much benefit to man- kind. When the Cape of Good Hope was occasionally doubled by the voyagers of the sixteenth century, only one ship in four returned to Europe in safety. Now not one vessel in forty is lost. The art of guiding ships by observations on the hea- venly bodies, and the telescopic study of the moon, have robbed the sea of its great- est dangers, reduced the cost of marine in- surance, and saved hundreds of thousands of human lives. The new branch of as- tronomy promises even greater benefits, both by sea and land, to civilized man. Whatever of credit may accrue to the researches at Allegheny should be fairly apportioned alike among those who per- formed the work and those who gave it pecuniary or official aid. Professor Lang- ley has been fortunate in securing and 40 H F PRISMATIC SPECTRUM. 94 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. training two skilled assistants, Frank W. Very and J. E. Keeler. The latter was one of the most efficient members of the party in Southern California. The ap- propriation from the revenue of the Count Rumford fund paid a part of the cost of constructing the first bolometers. The expense of special experiments with that instrument, and the plant of apparatus required, were the heaviest burden; this was lifted by the liberal Pittsburgh citizen. Some help was also given from the Bache fund of the National Academy. The fa- cilities tendered by the War Department, and the interest taken by General Hazen of the Signal Service, in addition to the aid already mentioned, made the Mount Whitney experiments possible. The Pull- man car of the Pennsylvania Railroad gave help and comfort. Services like these are not rendered in the hope of reward or fame. Their future value can not be foreseen by prophet nor estimated by mathematician. But in any event they will bring to those who have given substantial aid to science a share in the satisfaction that ever comes to the doers of generous deeds. RUS. MY dear lamented brother William Barrington Reade was first a sailor, then a soldier, then a county squire, and had from his youth an eye for character and live facts worth noting by sea or land. He furnished me from his experi- ences several tidbits that figure in my printed works; for instance, in Hard Cash the character and fate of Maxley, and the manceuvres of the square-rigged vessel at- tacked by the schooner; also the mad yachtsman, and his imitation of piracy, in The Jilt, etc. So now I offer the public his little study of a real character in rural life. Indeed, such quiet things may serve to relieve the general character of my work; for, pen in hand, I am fond of hot pas- sions and pictorial incidents, and, like the historians, care too little for the middle of humanity. George Moore, a shoemaker, with a shock head of black hair, a new wife, half a hundred of leather, and two sovereigns, came over from Ewelme to Ipsden, and ap- plied to my father for a cottage on Scotts Common. It was a very large cottage; the kitchen between twenty and thirty feet long; old stylesmoked rafters, dia- mond panes, etc. A shed, pig-sty, and two paddocks went with the tenement. Rent of the lot, Lit. Moore became the tenant, made boots and shoes incessantly for years, and sold them at Henley, Reading, or Wallingford mar- ket. He would carry in a sackful on his back, stand behind them in the mar- ket-place, and if he got rid of them, would often buy a pig or a cow, or even a pony; with such excellent judgment that he al- ways made a profit; and when lie bought at a fair he often sold his purchase on the road, for the nimble shilling tempted him. One of his declared axioms was, Quick come and safe keep. In 1849 my brother inherited the Ipsden estates, and a year or two afterward occu- pied an old house of his near Scotts Com- mon, and so he became Mr. Moores neigh- bor. He soon found out to his delight that this shoemaker was a character, his leading traits ostentatious parsimony, hu- morous avarice, and jolly dissatisfaction his phraseology a curious mixture of rural dialect and metropolitan acumen. As many of his sayings sounded like pro- verbs, my brother once, to gratify him dou- bly, said. Mr. Moore, neighbors should be neighborly, and set him to measure his growing family for shoes. He might as well have given the order to Procrustes: Moore made shoes for shops; he expected feet to fit his shoes; and, after all, live leather is more yielding than dead. The bill was settled one halfpenny short. From that day, although Moores conver- sations with my brother rambled over va- rious topics, they always ended one way- Beg pardon, sir, but there was a half- penny to come last account. Then the humorist would fumble foi~ this halfpenny, but never find it. He used it as a little seton. Moore once related to him his visit to a road-side hotel in the old coaching days. I came in mortal hungry, Squire, and there was a table spread. Dont know as ever I saw so much vittles all at one time. Found out afterward it was for the pas- sengers dinner. Sets me down just be- fore the beautifulest ham-a picture takes the knife and fork, and sets there with my fistes (pronounced mediawally fistys) on the table, and the knife and fork in em. Landlerd, says I to a chap in a parsons tie, be you the land- herd? No; he was the waiter. Then,

94 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. training two skilled assistants, Frank W. Very and J. E. Keeler. The latter was one of the most efficient members of the party in Southern California. The ap- propriation from the revenue of the Count Rumford fund paid a part of the cost of constructing the first bolometers. The expense of special experiments with that instrument, and the plant of apparatus required, were the heaviest burden; this was lifted by the liberal Pittsburgh citizen. Some help was also given from the Bache fund of the National Academy. The fa- cilities tendered by the War Department, and the interest taken by General Hazen of the Signal Service, in addition to the aid already mentioned, made the Mount Whitney experiments possible. The Pull- man car of the Pennsylvania Railroad gave help and comfort. Services like these are not rendered in the hope of reward or fame. Their future value can not be foreseen by prophet nor estimated by mathematician. But in any event they will bring to those who have given substantial aid to science a share in the satisfaction that ever comes to the doers of generous deeds. RUS. MY dear lamented brother William Barrington Reade was first a sailor, then a soldier, then a county squire, and had from his youth an eye for character and live facts worth noting by sea or land. He furnished me from his experi- ences several tidbits that figure in my printed works; for instance, in Hard Cash the character and fate of Maxley, and the manceuvres of the square-rigged vessel at- tacked by the schooner; also the mad yachtsman, and his imitation of piracy, in The Jilt, etc. So now I offer the public his little study of a real character in rural life. Indeed, such quiet things may serve to relieve the general character of my work; for, pen in hand, I am fond of hot pas- sions and pictorial incidents, and, like the historians, care too little for the middle of humanity. George Moore, a shoemaker, with a shock head of black hair, a new wife, half a hundred of leather, and two sovereigns, came over from Ewelme to Ipsden, and ap- plied to my father for a cottage on Scotts Common. It was a very large cottage; the kitchen between twenty and thirty feet long; old stylesmoked rafters, dia- mond panes, etc. A shed, pig-sty, and two paddocks went with the tenement. Rent of the lot, Lit. Moore became the tenant, made boots and shoes incessantly for years, and sold them at Henley, Reading, or Wallingford mar- ket. He would carry in a sackful on his back, stand behind them in the mar- ket-place, and if he got rid of them, would often buy a pig or a cow, or even a pony; with such excellent judgment that he al- ways made a profit; and when lie bought at a fair he often sold his purchase on the road, for the nimble shilling tempted him. One of his declared axioms was, Quick come and safe keep. In 1849 my brother inherited the Ipsden estates, and a year or two afterward occu- pied an old house of his near Scotts Com- mon, and so he became Mr. Moores neigh- bor. He soon found out to his delight that this shoemaker was a character, his leading traits ostentatious parsimony, hu- morous avarice, and jolly dissatisfaction his phraseology a curious mixture of rural dialect and metropolitan acumen. As many of his sayings sounded like pro- verbs, my brother once, to gratify him dou- bly, said. Mr. Moore, neighbors should be neighborly, and set him to measure his growing family for shoes. He might as well have given the order to Procrustes: Moore made shoes for shops; he expected feet to fit his shoes; and, after all, live leather is more yielding than dead. The bill was settled one halfpenny short. From that day, although Moores conver- sations with my brother rambled over va- rious topics, they always ended one way- Beg pardon, sir, but there was a half- penny to come last account. Then the humorist would fumble foi~ this halfpenny, but never find it. He used it as a little seton. Moore once related to him his visit to a road-side hotel in the old coaching days. I came in mortal hungry, Squire, and there was a table spread. Dont know as ever I saw so much vittles all at one time. Found out afterward it was for the pas- sengers dinner. Sets me down just be- fore the beautifulest ham-a picture takes the knife and fork, and sets there with my fistes (pronounced mediawally fistys) on the table, and the knife and fork in em. Landlerd, says I to a chap in a parsons tie, be you the land- herd? No; he was the waiter. Then, RUB. 95 says I, you tell the landlerd I wants to speak to un very particular; so presently the landlerd comes as round as a barl mostly. Landlerd, says I, with my fistes on the table, and the knife pinting uppards, I must know what the reckon- ing ool be afer I sticks my ferk intot. Somebody with whom he traded wanted one shilling and tenpence more than his 4ue in a considerable transaction. Moore made the parish ring. However, he appears in this case to have thought he owed mankind in general, and scotts Common in particular, an expla- nation, so he gave it to the gamekeeper, Will Johnstone, Johnstone retailed it at the Black Horse, and round it caine to my humorist, vid the gardener. Ye may say one shilling and tenpence is a very little sum. Heres Moore run- ning all over the parish after one ten. But its a beginning. A text is a little thing; but parson caii make half an hours sermon ont. Rustic Oxfordshire has never within the memory of man accepted that peevish rule of the grammarians, Two negatives make an affirmative. We have a gram- matical creed worth two of that. We hold that less than two negatives might be taken for an affirmative, or at least for an assent. A Cambridge man, whom his college, St. Johns, transplanted into my county as an incumbent, declared to me once that he heard a native of my county address a band of workmen thus: Hant never a one of you chaps seen nothing of no hat ? Moore accumulated negatives as if they were halfpence. A neighbor to whom he had now and then lent a spade, or a fry- ing-pan, or a fagot, offended him, and they slanged each other heartily over the pal- ings. Moore wound up the controversy thus: Dont you never come to my house for nothing no more, for ye wont get it. The population of Scotts Common is sparse, but the dialogue being both long and loud, seven girls had collected, froni four to thirteen years old. With this assembly Moore shared his triumph. There, you gals, I have sewed up his stocking, said George Moore. Scotts Farm was a small holding sur- rounded by woods, flat enough when you got up to it, but on very high ground. Not a drop of well water for miles. The men drank no liquid but beer; the women, tea and tadpoles. None of the larger tenants would be bothered with Scotts. But small farm- ers are poor farmers and unsuccessful. One or two failed on it, and it was vacant. The homestead was a picture to look at, and in the farm-yard a natural cart shed, perhaps without its fellow, an old oak-tree twenty-seven feet in girth, and of enor- mous age. The top was gone entirely; so was the inside. Nothing stood but a a large hollow stem with three or four vertical chasms, one so broad that a cart could pass into the wooden funnel. Yet that shell put out the greenest oak leaves in all the country-side. An artist could have lived at Scotts Farm and made money. But the acres attached to the de- lightful residence made it a bad bargain to farmers; for the acres and the low rent tempted the tenants to farm. Now you must understand that for a long time past Ireland has been telling England a falsehood, and England swal- lowing it for a self-evident truth, and building rotten legislation on it, viz., that the rent is the principal expense of a farm. It is not one-fifth the expense of a well- tilled farm; and of an ill-cultivated farm not one-tenth, for it is the last thing paid. Scotts Farm was one out of a hundred examples I have seen. The rent of seven- ty-five acres, plus a charming house and homestead, was fifty pounds. Yet one bad farmer after another broke on it, and grumbled at the rent, though it could not have been the rent that hurt him, for he never paid it. Well, Mr. Moore called on my brother, and offered to rent Scotts Farm. My brother stared with amazement, then said, dryly, Did you ever do me an injury ? Not as I know on, Squire; nor dont mean to. Then why should I do you one? Scotts? Why, they all break on it. Oh ! said Moore, folk as hant got no head-piece, nor no money neither, are bound to break on a farm. Taint to say George Moore is a-going to break. My brother replied: Oh, I know you are a good judge of live stock, and I dare say you have picked up a notion of farm- ing. But you see it requires capital. Well, Squire, said the shoemaker, Im not a thousand-pound man, but Im 96 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. a nine-hundred-pound man. Ill show you some ont, and he actually pulled out of his breeches pocket seven hundred pounds in bank-notes, and presented them as his references. In short, he rented Scotts Farm. But my brother could never bear any- body who amused him to come to grief, and so for a time he was in anxiety lest Moore should lose the money he had ac- quired by his industry and kept by his economy. However, the new tenant stocked the farm, which his predecessors had not done, and let fall remarks indi- cating prosperity, as that a farmer had no business to go to his barn door for rent, and that he could make a living any- where. Besides, the rising ricks spoke for themselves. I believe he had been tenant nine months when, one day, my brother, see- ing him smoking a pipe over his farm- yard gate, dismounted expressly to talk to him. Mr. Moores first sentence betrayed that he was no longer a shoemaker. Lookee here, Squire, a farmering man wants to have four eyes, and three hands: two for work, one is always wanted in his pocketrent, tithe, labor, taxes, rates. Why, the parish tapped me three times last month. My wife got behind in her washing through wasting of her time counting out the money I had to pay away. As to my men, I be counted sharp, but ii must be split in two to be sharp enough for they. I was afraid you would find the rent heavy, said my brother, innocently. The rent! cried Mr. Moore; I dont vally it that ! and he snapped his fingers at it. But how about the labor-men and horses, and women; and the three crops of weeds on one field, through me coming after tipplers and fools as left the land foul for Moore to clean after they. And then He paused, and jerking his thumb over his shoulder, added, THE BLACK SLUG THAT EATS UP THE TENTH OF THE LAND. My brother did not understand the sim- ile one bit till he followed the direction of Mr. Moores thumb, and beheld a bene- ficed clergyman crossing the common like a lamb, all unconscious of the injurious metaphor shot after him by oppressed ag- riculture. Having suppressed a grin with some difficulty, my brother said, gravely: Ill tell ye what it is, Moore; if you went to church a little oftener, you would find out that the clergy are worth their money to those who go by their advice in this world, and so learn not to forget the next. Come, now; our parson has no tithes, and only a very small stipend, yet I never see you at church. Surely you might go once on a Sunday. Now I must premise that Mr. A justly dissatisfied with the morals of that parish, preached sermons which were in fact philippics. Why, Squire, said Moore, I have tried un. But I do take after my horses: I cant stand all whip and no earn. Undaunted by the comparison, his land- lord gravely reminded him that there were prayers as well as a sermon, and prayers full of charity, and fitted to all conditions of life. Well, Squire, said the farmer, half apologetically, Ill tell you the truth: I never was a hog at prayers. It was a pity he could not add he never was greedy of this worlds goods. One day my brother heard his voice rather loud in the yard, and found him bargaining with a lad in a smock-frock a stranger. At sight of the Squire the injured farm- er appealed to him. Look at un, said he, a-standing there. ~ The lad remain- ed impassive as the gate post under the scrutiny thus dramatically invited. A wants ten shilling a week, and three pound Michaelmas. Then turning from my bro- ther to the lad: Now what did you have at your last placewithout a lie ? Six shillings, and a pound at Michael- mas, ~ said the young fellow, calmly. And you thinks to rise me ten shil- lings! Now, tell ee what it is, young man, you hire yourself to keep the mildew out o my wheat, and the rot out o my sheep, or else draa no wages out o me. You make me safe as my horses shant go broken-winded, nor blind, nor lame, while you be driving on em, nor my cows shant slip their calves, nor my sows shant lay over their litters and smother em. I maunt have no fly in my tur- mots under you, my barley and wuts must come to the rick nice and dry and bright, and then Ill pay you half a sov- ereign a week(with sudden friendli- ness) Where did ee come from ? Cholsey village. RUS. 97 How ever did ee find your way all up here ? The lad said it was only six miles; he had found his way easy enough. Then youll find it easier back. Good- morning. And off he went. The lad put his hands in his breeches pockets and strolled away unmoved in another direction; and my brother retired swiftly to take down every syllable of this inimitable dialogue. It afterward appeared that his was the only genuine exit; the other two were ex- amples of what the French dramatists call fausse sortie. For the very next day this Cholsey lad was at work for Mr. Moore. Hallo ! said my brother. Why, you parted never to meet againfar as the poles asunder. Ha! ha ! Oh, that is how we begins ! explain- ed Moore, with a grin. Bought him at my own price. But (with sudden gloom) a wool have two pound Michaelmas, the risolute To-a-d. Moore had a cur his wife implored him to hang out of her way. Well, said he, anything for a quiet life. You find the card; Ill find the labor. Ere a cord was found Moore caught sight of the good easy Squire; he came out and told him Toby had been poach- ing on his own account, and had better be tied up except when wanted. Offered him for three half-crowns, praised him up to the skies. Squire Easy submitted to the infliction, and Toby was sent to the kennel. Next week, Moore had made a bad bar- gain. I let ee have Toby too cheap; I hear of all sides as hes the best rabbiter you ha got, a regular hexpeditious good dog. He gave his landlord a piece of advice which, to tell the truth, that gentleman needed sorely; for he was never known to make one good bargain in all his life. Said Mr. Moore: Dont you never listen to a chap as wont say aforehand how much hell give or take to a farthing, or a halfpenny at the very outside. When that there humbug says to you, Oh, we shant quarrel, says you, Ill take care of that, for down you puts it to a farthing. When he says, Oh, Ill not hurt you, says you, Oh yes, ye will, if I give you a chance; put it down to a farthing, or Im off. He let his parlor and a bedroom to a lodger for fifteen shillings a week, a sum unheard of in those parts. This transpired in a few months, and my brother congratulated hint. Here is his reply ad verbuwt: Why, Squire, it doesnt all stick to me. Theres my missus she is took off her work to attend to he. Then theres. a gre-at hearty gal Im fossed to hire. There goes eighteenpence a week and her vittels. I tried to get a sickly one as. wouldnt eat my head off, but there warnt a sickly one as ud come. Feared of a lit- tle work! Now (with sudden severity) do I get half a guinea out of he ? Then with a shout: No! Then with the sud- den calmness of unalterable conviction: Not by sixpence. This seems a tough man, not to be eas- ily moved, a wary man, not to be out- witted; yet misfortune befell him, and rankled for years. My brother left Oxfordshire and settled in a milder climate. During his long so- journ there a vague report reached him that bad money had been passed on Moore, and he had made the district ring. When after seven years my brother re- turned to his native woods, he looked in at Scotts Farm, and there was Moore, the only familiar face about which did not seem a day older. After other friendly- inquiries my brother said: But how about the bad money that was passed on you? Tell me all about it. That I wool, said Moore, delighted to find a good listener to a grievance which to him was ever new, though the circumstance was five years old. I was at dung-cart most of that day, and then I washed, and tried to get a minute to milk the cow; but bless your heart, they nevei~ will let me milk her afore sunset. Its Moore here, and Moore there, from half a dozen of em; and Mr. lVtoore here, and Mr. Moore there, from the one or two as have learned manners, which very few of em have in these parts; and between em they allus contrive to keep me from my own cow till dusk. Well, sir, I had got leave to milk her, hurry-scurry as usual, and night coming on, when a man I had sold a fat hog to came into the yard to pay. Wait a minute, says I. But no~ he was like the rest, couldnt let rae milk her in peace; wanted to settle and drive the baacon home. So I took my head out HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. o the cow, and I went to him without so much as letting my smock down, and he gave me the money, 6 17s. I took the gold in one hand so, and the silver in tother so, and I went across the yard to the house, and I asked the missus to get a light, and then I told the money before her, six sovereigns and seventeen shil- lings, and left her to scratch him a re- ceipt, while I went back to my cow, and I thought to milk her in peace at last. But before I had drained her as should be, ~out comes my missus, and screams fit to wake the dead: George I George!, I be coming, says I; so I up with the milk pail and goes to her. Whose cats dead now? says I, for mercys sake. Come in, come in, says she. George, whoever is that man? He have paid us a bad shilling; look at that. Well, we tried that there shilling on the table first, and then on the hearth: twas bad; couldnt be wus. Run after him, says she; run this moment. Lard, says I, they be half-way to Wallingford by this time. Here, give me a scrap of paper. Ill carry it about in my fob; he goes to all the markets; he will change it, you may be sure. Well, the very next Friday as ever was I met him at Wallingford market, pulls out the paper, shows him the shil- hug, tells him it warnt good. He looks at it and agreed with me. Then change it, if you please, says I. What for? says he. I dont want no bad shillings no more nor you do. But, says I, price of hog was six seventeen, and you only paid six sixteen in money. Yes, I did, says he. I gave you six seven- teen. No, ye didnt. Yes, I did. No, ye didnt; you gave me six sixteen, and this. Now, my man, says I, act honest and pay me tother shilling. No he wouldnt. There was a crowd by this time, so I said, Look here, gentlemen, I sold this man a hog, and he gave me this in part pay, which it aint a real shilling, and mine was a genuine hog; so they all said it warnt a shilling at all. When the man heard that he was for slipping off, but I stepped after him, with half the market at my heels. Will you pay me my shil- ling? I dont owe you no shilling, says he. You do, says I; and pay me my hilling you shall. I wont. You shall; Ill pison your life else. Next time of asking, as the saying is, was Reading market. Catches him cheapening a calf. Takes out shilling. Now, says I, heres your bad shilling as you gave me for my hogwhich it is a warning to honest folk with calves to sell, says I. Be you going to change it? No, I baint. You baint ? says I. You shall, then, says I. Time will show, says he, and bid me good-day, ironical. I let him get a little way, and then I stepped after him. Hy, stop that gentleman, I hal- bed. He have given me a bad shilling. You might hear me all over the market. Then he threatened defanation or sum- mat; I didnt keer; I bawled him out o Reading market that there afternoon. Met him at Henley next; commenced operationstook out the shilling. He crossed over directly, I after un, and held out the shilling. Taint no use, says I. You shant do no business in this here county till you have changed this here shilling. Come, my man, tis only a shil- ling; what is all this here to do about a shilling? says I; act honest and give me my shilling, and take this here keepsake back. I wont, says he. You wont? says I; then Ill hunt you out of every market in England. Ill hunt ye into the wilderness and the hocean wave. He got very sick of me in a year or twos marketing, I can tell you; for I nev- er missed a market now, because of the shilling. He had to give up trade and go home whenever he saw my shilling and me a-coming. And so you tired him out? That I did.~ And got your shilling ? That I did not. He found a way to cheat me after all (with a sudden yell of reprobation). He went and diedand heres the shilling ! UNUTTERED. WAITING for wordsas on the broad expanse Of heaven the formless vapors of the night Expectant wait the prophecy of light, Interpreting their dumb significance; Or like a star that in the morning glance Shrinks, as a folding blossom, from the sight, Nor wakens till, upou the western height, The shadows to their evening towers advance So, in my soul, a dream ineffable, Expectant of the sunshine or the shade, Doth oft upon the brink of twilight chill, Or at the dawns pale opening portal stayed, In tears, that all the quivering eyelids fill, In smiles, that on the lip of silence fade.

HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. o the cow, and I went to him without so much as letting my smock down, and he gave me the money, 6 17s. I took the gold in one hand so, and the silver in tother so, and I went across the yard to the house, and I asked the missus to get a light, and then I told the money before her, six sovereigns and seventeen shil- lings, and left her to scratch him a re- ceipt, while I went back to my cow, and I thought to milk her in peace at last. But before I had drained her as should be, ~out comes my missus, and screams fit to wake the dead: George I George!, I be coming, says I; so I up with the milk pail and goes to her. Whose cats dead now? says I, for mercys sake. Come in, come in, says she. George, whoever is that man? He have paid us a bad shilling; look at that. Well, we tried that there shilling on the table first, and then on the hearth: twas bad; couldnt be wus. Run after him, says she; run this moment. Lard, says I, they be half-way to Wallingford by this time. Here, give me a scrap of paper. Ill carry it about in my fob; he goes to all the markets; he will change it, you may be sure. Well, the very next Friday as ever was I met him at Wallingford market, pulls out the paper, shows him the shil- hug, tells him it warnt good. He looks at it and agreed with me. Then change it, if you please, says I. What for? says he. I dont want no bad shillings no more nor you do. But, says I, price of hog was six seventeen, and you only paid six sixteen in money. Yes, I did, says he. I gave you six seven- teen. No, ye didnt. Yes, I did. No, ye didnt; you gave me six sixteen, and this. Now, my man, says I, act honest and pay me tother shilling. No he wouldnt. There was a crowd by this time, so I said, Look here, gentlemen, I sold this man a hog, and he gave me this in part pay, which it aint a real shilling, and mine was a genuine hog; so they all said it warnt a shilling at all. When the man heard that he was for slipping off, but I stepped after him, with half the market at my heels. Will you pay me my shil- ling? I dont owe you no shilling, says he. You do, says I; and pay me my hilling you shall. I wont. You shall; Ill pison your life else. Next time of asking, as the saying is, was Reading market. Catches him cheapening a calf. Takes out shilling. Now, says I, heres your bad shilling as you gave me for my hogwhich it is a warning to honest folk with calves to sell, says I. Be you going to change it? No, I baint. You baint ? says I. You shall, then, says I. Time will show, says he, and bid me good-day, ironical. I let him get a little way, and then I stepped after him. Hy, stop that gentleman, I hal- bed. He have given me a bad shilling. You might hear me all over the market. Then he threatened defanation or sum- mat; I didnt keer; I bawled him out o Reading market that there afternoon. Met him at Henley next; commenced operationstook out the shilling. He crossed over directly, I after un, and held out the shilling. Taint no use, says I. You shant do no business in this here county till you have changed this here shilling. Come, my man, tis only a shil- ling; what is all this here to do about a shilling? says I; act honest and give me my shilling, and take this here keepsake back. I wont, says he. You wont? says I; then Ill hunt you out of every market in England. Ill hunt ye into the wilderness and the hocean wave. He got very sick of me in a year or twos marketing, I can tell you; for I nev- er missed a market now, because of the shilling. He had to give up trade and go home whenever he saw my shilling and me a-coming. And so you tired him out? That I did.~ And got your shilling ? That I did not. He found a way to cheat me after all (with a sudden yell of reprobation). He went and diedand heres the shilling ! UNUTTERED. WAITING for wordsas on the broad expanse Of heaven the formless vapors of the night Expectant wait the prophecy of light, Interpreting their dumb significance; Or like a star that in the morning glance Shrinks, as a folding blossom, from the sight, Nor wakens till, upou the western height, The shadows to their evening towers advance So, in my soul, a dream ineffable, Expectant of the sunshine or the shade, Doth oft upon the brink of twilight chill, Or at the dawns pale opening portal stayed, In tears, that all the quivering eyelids fill, In smiles, that on the lip of silence fade. THE ROMANOFFS. I. IF, six hundred years ago, Russia had not already been behind all Europe in such civilization as Europe then possess- ed, the invasion of the Tartars in the thir- teenth century would have sufficed to throw her and keep her back. But the cause of the slow progress of civilization in Russia, from the retreat of the Tartars in the fifteenth century up to the time of Peter the Great, must be looked for in the destruction of the Eastern Empire, in that same century, by Mohammed II. The fall of Constantinople, which, by driving so many Greek artists to Italy, brought about the a~s~hetic and intellect- ual movement in Western Europe known as the revival of arts and letters, pro- duced in Russia a corresponding decline; for the Russian Church, as if with the view of preventing those schisms which have agitated and torn so many other na- tions, prohibited the Russians from visit- ing any country not professing the Greek faith; and no country professing the Greek faith existed outside Russia after the fall of Constantinople. VOL. LXVH.No. 3977 Apart from the minor princes who ruled those portions of Russia external to the Grand Duchy of Moscow, the re- publics of Novgorod and Pskov still at this time preserved their independence. But they were destined to fall beneath the attacks of Ivan, the first independent Tsar of Russia, and of Vassili, his son. It was not, however, until the accession of Ivan IV., surnamed the Terrible, that they were reduced finally to submission. Prosper M~rim~e has said of this san- guinary monster that he was never ter- rible except to his own subjects. This is not strictly true, though it was by the tortures that he inflicted upon those over whom he had been called to rule that he gained the unenviable epithet affixed to his name. This prince was but four years old when he ascended the throne, and the government of the country was, until he became of age, carried on by the House of Boyards, under the direction of his mo- ther, the Princess Helen, of the Polish family of Glinski. He was but thirteen when a political IVAN THE TERRIBLE.

THE ROMANOFFS. I. IF, six hundred years ago, Russia had not already been behind all Europe in such civilization as Europe then possess- ed, the invasion of the Tartars in the thir- teenth century would have sufficed to throw her and keep her back. But the cause of the slow progress of civilization in Russia, from the retreat of the Tartars in the fifteenth century up to the time of Peter the Great, must be looked for in the destruction of the Eastern Empire, in that same century, by Mohammed II. The fall of Constantinople, which, by driving so many Greek artists to Italy, brought about the a~s~hetic and intellect- ual movement in Western Europe known as the revival of arts and letters, pro- duced in Russia a corresponding decline; for the Russian Church, as if with the view of preventing those schisms which have agitated and torn so many other na- tions, prohibited the Russians from visit- ing any country not professing the Greek faith; and no country professing the Greek faith existed outside Russia after the fall of Constantinople. VOL. LXVH.No. 3977 Apart from the minor princes who ruled those portions of Russia external to the Grand Duchy of Moscow, the re- publics of Novgorod and Pskov still at this time preserved their independence. But they were destined to fall beneath the attacks of Ivan, the first independent Tsar of Russia, and of Vassili, his son. It was not, however, until the accession of Ivan IV., surnamed the Terrible, that they were reduced finally to submission. Prosper M~rim~e has said of this san- guinary monster that he was never ter- rible except to his own subjects. This is not strictly true, though it was by the tortures that he inflicted upon those over whom he had been called to rule that he gained the unenviable epithet affixed to his name. This prince was but four years old when he ascended the throne, and the government of the country was, until he became of age, carried on by the House of Boyards, under the direction of his mo- ther, the Princess Helen, of the Polish family of Glinski. He was but thirteen when a political IVAN THE TERRIBLE. 100 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. party, opposed to the more influential of the Boyards of whom the council was composed, suggested to him that he was quite old enough to govern alone, and that he would do well to disembarrass himself of his too officious advisers. The young prince had already given proof of some sagacity and of considerable vio- lence of temper, and he hastened to profit by the suggestions offered to him. From this moment every one trembled before the boy of thirteen. He terrified even the party which had so imprudently inspired him with the idea of liberating himself from his councillors. Direct accounts of Ivans demeanor at court have been furnished by the English traveller Captain Chancellor, who, in his own words, discovered Muscovy, and by various envoys and visitors from Po- land and Germany. But the evidence of his cruelties rests chiefly on the testimony of the Russian official historian Karam- zin, who, in dealing with the tyrant of three hundred years before, was allowed to give full vent to the indignation with which Ivans acts could not fail to inspire him. There is in some Russian gallery a picture representing Karamzin engaged in reading his history to the Emperor Al- exander, who has been much praised for his magnanimity in tolerating the histo- rians fearless denunciations of his infa- mous predecessor on the throne. The amiable Karamzin, wrote the late Alex- ander Herzen, could not think it right that Ivan should have his enemies sawn from head to foot between two boards nor could the liberal Alexander well ob- ject to such performances being vigorous- ly denounced. But to return to Captain Chancellor, who, in the days of Edward VI., started on a voyage of discovery, bearing with him circular letters from the crown to the rulers of any strange lands that chance or inclination might lead him to visit. Like many other explorers, he found what he had not sought. He entered the White Sea, where a ship had not been seen for upward of three hundred years, cast anchor opposite the monastery of St. Nicholas, disembarked at a place where now stands the city of Archangel, and be- ing called on by the authorities to make known his intentions, declared, with great presence of mind, that he had come to conclude a treaty of commerce between England and Russia. The news was for- warded to Moscow, whence the Tsar wrote to Captain Chancellor, inviting him to come on to the capital. Chancellor ac- cepted the invitation, and was brought into the presence of Ivan the Terrible. Ivan, under pretense of being a Chris- tian, was always forming plans for mak- ing war upon the Turks, and he desired much to obtain the assistance of England toward that end. Indeed, his respect and love for England were so great that he proposed to marry Queen Elizabeth, and for some time would take no refusal. His letter containing the proposal was not, as in the case of King Theodore of Abys- sinia, left unanswered. On the contrary, a special embassy was sent with the reply. The ambassador, Sir Jerome Bowes, gave some offense to the capricious monarch neglecting, it is said, to uncover before him; upon which Ivan is reported to have ordered that the envoys hat should be nailed to his head. As Sir Jerome lived to return to England, and gave, on the whole, a rather favorable account of the Muscovite Tsar, it is to be presumed that~ the new form of capital punishment de- signed for him by his royal host was not inflicted. Ivan, however, possessed a grim humor, which sometimes manifested itself in a terribly tragic form. In his moments of gayety he would cause a num- ber of persons who had or had not offend- ed him to be wrapped up in bear-skins, and then set bear-hounds upon them to worry them to death. When the Church of St. Basil the Blessed, the most original and fantastic if not the most beautiful church in Moscow, was finished, he sent for the architect, and asked him whether he could build another exactly like it, and receiv- ing a triumphant answer in the affirma- tive, ordered the mans eyes to be put out, in order that the Church of St. Basil the Blessed might remain unique. Ivan the Terrible has been compared by a recent historian of Russia to Henry VIII. of England; and though Henry can not be fairly said to have resembled Ivan in any other respect, it is quite true that both sovereigns married more wives than custom allowed. In Russia it is permitted to wed three timesa dispensation, how- ever, being granted to the determined mar- rier who, wishing to take a fourth wife, chooses a Jewess for his bride, and con- verts her to the Christian religion. Ivan the Terrible married no Jewess. The wife who exercised the greatest influence over THE ROMANOFFS. 101 him was of the Mohammedan re- ligion; and besides marrying two of his Russian subjects, he was willing to contract an alliance now with the Protestant Queen of England, now with the daughter of King Sigismund of Poland, who was a Roman Catholic. The ne- gotiations for the hand of the Po- lish princess and of the English queen seem, oddly enough, to have been carried on almost simulta- neously; and this, together with the absence of positive evidence of the fact in the correspondence be- tween Ivan and Elizabeth, pre- served in the archives of the Krem- lin, has led Mr. George Tolstoi, in his lately published work on the early relations between Russia and England, to maintain that the tra- dition as to Ivans intended mar- riage with Elizabeth is without foundation. The legend on the subject, based on reports brought home by Eng- lish travellers of the period, is that Ivan IV. made a formal of- fer to Elizabeth, which the Virgin Queen declined on the ground that she was firmly resolved not to enter the mar- ried state; and that on Ivans declaring that he was determined, if the queen would not have him, at least to marry some lady of her court, the daughter of the Earl of Huntingdon, Lady Mary Hast- ings, was proposed to him as a willing bride. The young Eiiglisli girl, however, could not have been very anxious to be- come the sixth wife of a Tartar-like mon- ster who was already upward of fifty years of age; and nothing came of the affair. The ambassadors from England who from time to time visited Russia did their best to maintain the Tsar in his delusion that an English wife of high degree would really be sent out to him; and this high diplomatic flirtation gave results in the form of commercial treaties and special privileges for English merchants, who, for instance, were allowed by one special per- mit to seize all the foreign shipping in the White Sea, and confiscate it, on condition of giving half the proceeds to the Tsar Ivan. The reign of Ivan the Terribleapart from the striking and appalling charac- ter of Ivan himself, whom Mickiewicz, the Polish poet, calls, in his lectures on the Slavonians, the most finished tyrant known in historyfrivolous and debauch- ed like Nero, stupid and ferocious like Caligula, full of dissimulation like Tibe- rius or Louis XI. is interesting as mark- ing the beginning of the intercourse be- tween Russia and Western Europe, and especially between Russia and England. The natural approach to Russia from the west was, of course, through Poland; but the Poles impeded systematically, and for political reasons, the introduction of arts and artificers into Russia, and Sigismnund wrote a letter to Elizabeth, warning her against the Muscovite power as a danger to civilization, only not formidable for the moment because it was still semi-bar- barous. Ivan the Terrible was the third of the independent Tsars; and already under Ivan, sometimes called the Greatto whom, indeed, belongs the honor of hav- ing finally liberated Russia from the Tartar yokeendeavors had been made to enter into relations with various European na- tions. Foreigners, too, were encouraged to visit Russia and settle there. The move- ment of foreigners toward Russia increased with each succeeding reign; and begin- ning with the first Tsar of Muscovy, it MICHAEL FEODOROVITCH. 102 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. became much more marked under the third, that Ivan the Terrible under whose reign the mariners in the service of the English company of merchant adven- turers entered the White Sea, and, in their own language, discovered Russia. Russia was, indeed, until that time, so far as Western Europe was concerned, an unknown land, cut off from Western civ- ilization for political and warlike reasons by the Poles, and for religious reasons by the Catholic Church. On the 18th of March, 1584, Ivan was sitting half dressed, after his bath, sol- lacing himself and making merie with pleasant songs, as lie used to doe, and calling for his chess-board, had placed the men, and was just setting up the king, when he fell back in a swoon, and died. The government now passed into the hands of five lords whom he had named guard- ians of his weak-minded son Feodor. The death of Ivanwas followed by strong demonstrations of dislike against the Eng- lish at Moscow; and the English diploma- tist and match-maker Sir Jerome Bowes after being ironically informed that the English king was dead, found himself seized and thrown into prison. He was liberated through the representations of another envoy, who pointed out that it would be imprudent to excite Elizabeths wrath; and though for a time intercourse between Russia and Western Europe seem- ed to be threatened, through the national hatred of foreigners as manifested by the councillors of the late Tsar, yet when the weak-minded Feodor fell beneath the in- fluence of his brother-in-law Boris Go- dounoff, the previous policy, soon to be- come traditional, of cultivating relations with Western Europe, was resumed. Elizabeth responded warmly to Boris Godounoffs advances, and in a letter ad- dressed to him spoke of his noble line- age, great wisdom, and desert, which had made him the priiicipal councillor and director of the state of so great a mon- arch. From this time (1593) there was an end to the disputes previously so nu- merous between English merchants and Russian officials, and Boris GodounotT having attained supreme power, nothing happened to disturb between the Queen and the Tsar that amity and love which had been betwixt her and his most noble father of famous memory, John Bassilie- vitch, Lord Emperor and Grand Duke of all Russia. Nineteen years have yet to pass before the election of the first of the Romanoffs to the throne; for, strange as it may seem, the first member of the dynasty of the Romanoffs was chosen and appointed to the imperial rule by an assembly repre- senting the various Estates. Meanwhile the order of succession had been broken. Several pretenders to the throne had ap- peared, one of whom, Demetrius, distinct- ively known as the Inipostor, attained for a time supreme power. Demetrius, married to a Polish lady, Marina Mnis- zek, was aided by her powerful family to maintain his position in Moscow, and the Mniszeks assembled and sent to the Rus- sian capital a body of 4000 men. Then Ladislas of Poland interfered, and after a time Moscow fell beneath the power of the Poles. Soon, however, the national feeling of Russia was aroused. A butcher, or cat- tle dealer, of Nijni-Novgorod, named Mi- nin, whose patriotism has made him one of the most popular figures in Russian history, got together the nucleus of a na- tional army, and appealed to the patriotic nobleman Prince Pojarski to place him- self at its head. Pojarski and Minin marched together to Moscow, and their success in clearing the capital of the for- eign invaders is commemorated by a group of statuary which stands in the principal square of Moscow, and in a mi- nor way by the finely painted drop-scene of the Moscow opera-house, which rep- resents the joint national leaders whose names are now never dissociated. The period of the Polish occupation and of the ultimate delivery of Moscow has been further celebrated by what may be called the national opera of Russia, Glinkas Life for the Tsar, in which the brilliancy and arrogance of the Poles are contrasted with the more solid qualities of the honest but humble-minded Russians, and in which the peasant hero Ivan Son- sannin, seized by a party of Poles, who are in search of the Tsar Michael, and forced by them to act as guide in a pathless wood during a severe snow-storm, leads his cap- turers easily to destruction, but himself perishes at their hands. The Tsar thus saved was Michael Feo- dorovitch, first of the line of the Roma- noffs. The whole of this critical period of Russian history has lasting memorials in one central spot within the city of Mos THE ROMANOFFS. 1o~ cow. From the Kremlin battlements the Peter the Greata name which at once remains of Demetrius the Impostor were brings us down to modern times, and to a fired out of a cannon in the direction of comparatively modernized Russia. Alexis Poland. Beneath its walls stands the an- Michailovitch, like all his predecessors, imated group, already mentioned, which except those who were too much occupied marks the place where the last decisive with internal matters to be able to look victory of Pojarski and Minin was gain- across the frontier, gave encouragement ed. It was through the Kremlins Holy Gate, which faces the group, and beneath which no one may pass without uncovering, that Prince Pojarski made his tri- umphal entry after driving out the Poles. The exact spot is shown where Demetrius the Im- postor is alleged to have fallen in jumping from one of the windows at the back of the old palace; and it is certain that on the threshold of the Assumption, the most re- nowned of the three cathedrals clustered together in the Krem- lin, the first of the Romanoffs received the oath of allegiance from the people by whom he had just been elected. Among the tombs of the metro- politans buried in this cathedral are those of Philaret and Her- mogenes, who were thrown into prison by the Poles for refusing to consent to the accession of Ladislas, the Polish prince, to the Russian throne. Hermogenes died to visitors from abroad; and he consider- soon after his arrest. Philaret, at the ex- ed himself so entirely a member of the pulsion of the Poles, was carried away European family of kings that he main- captive by them in their retreat from tamed an intimate correspondence with Moscow (1612), and was kept nine years Charles 1.still preserved in the archives a prisoner in Poland. On his return to of the Kremlinand gave that sovereign Russia be found his son Michael Feo- many proofs of sympathy during his time dorovitch elected to the throne. The of trouble. belief then of the Russian people in Mi- After Charles I. s execution, Alexis of- chaels patriotism seems to have been fered money andmen to the future Charles founded on a knowledge of the patriotism II., in view of a restoration. When, of his father. The surname of the metro- more than half a century before, Ivan the politan who had defied the Polish power Terrible had, in his letters to Elizabeth, and had suffered nine years imprison- suggested that each monarch, in case of ment in Poland was Romanoff; Phila- distress, should be considered free to seek ret was the name he had adopted on be- an asylum in the dominions of the other, coming a monk. His baptismal name the proposed arrangement must, to the was Feodor, and hence the patronymic English of those days, have seemed one- Feodorovitch attached to the name of Mi- sided. But the treaty of mutual safety chael, the first of the Romanoffs. offered to Elizabeth might have been of There is little to say about the reign of use to more than one of her successors. Michael Feodorovitch, the circumstances It was partly, however, from kindness of having once been set forth under which heart, but also and above all from indig- he was elected to the vacant throne; and nation at the idea of violent hands being his son and successor Alexis Michailo- laid upon the Lords anointed, that vitch is chiefly remembered as father of Alexis tendered to the Stuart family as- ALEXIS MIcHAILOVITcH. 104 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. sistance which they would have been un- able to turn to account, and a home which it would have suited neither their interests nor their tastes to accept. Alexis Michailovitch, like so many of the Russian sovereigns before and after him, cultivated politics on a large scale. The idea of driving the Turks out of Eu- rope must have been cherished by the Tsars of Russia from the days when Ivan, the first of the independent Tsars, married Sophia, niece of the last of the Paheologi, and invited to Russia the architects, art- ists, and artificers who had taken flight from Constantinople after its capture by the Turks. But Ivan the Great had to free himself from the Tartars; Ivan the Terrible had to complete the consolidation of the Muscovite power by reducing to subjection (through wholesale massacres) the still independent republics of Nov- gorod and Pskov. Then came the dis- puted succession, the appearance of Deme- trius the Impostor, the difficulties with Poland, and the occupation of Moscow by the Poles. When the second sovereign of the Romanoff dynasty ascended the throne there was nothing more to fear from the Tartars in the east, while on the western side the Poles had in their turn been driven back. Alexis Michailo- vitch then turned his attention toward the south, and proposed to form a league of European princes, with the view of ex- pelling the Turks from Europe. The Turks were at that time a real men- ace to European civilization. They held Hungary in their possession, and Buda was governed by a Turkish pasha. But such was the jealousy between the Euro- pean states that the combination proposed by Alexis Michailovitch from which, had it been adopted, it is quite possible that he might have derived greater bene- fits than any one elsehad no chance of being realized. Poland, in particular, de- clined to co-operate with him, and it was ultimately at the expense, not of Turkey, but of Poland, that Alexis Michailovitch increased his dominions. The Cossack country known as Little Russia, with Kharkov and Kiev as its chief towns, professing the same Greek religion as Muscovy, or Great Russia, had, in order to free itself from the ties which bound it to Catholic Poland, placed itself under the protection of the Russian Tsar. Worsted in the field, Poland saw her bor- der territory, or Ukraine, pass beneath the power of her great hereditary enemy; which did not, however, until about a cen- tury later, in the person of the Empress Catherine, deprive it, as punishment for rising in rebellion, of its much-prized lib- erties. Thus the period in which Sobieski liberated Vienna from the Turks, by whom it was so seriously menaced, was that which witnessed the cession of the Cos- sack country, or Ukraine, to Sobieskis Russian contemporary and foe, Alexis Michailovitch. The next Tsar worth mentioning at length, after Alexis the son of Michael, is Peter the son of Alexis, better known in WesternEurope as Peter the Great. The immediate successor, however, of Michael Feodorovitch was Peters elder brother Feodor, who again, before Peter ascended the throne, was followed by another bro- ther, Ivan. At this time, and until the reign of Paul, at the end of the last century, the succes- sion in the reigning family of Russia was very irregular. Instead of descending, as at present, directly from fathers to sons, it passed at times from father to son, at oth- ers from brother to brother, and Peter Alexievitch, before reigning alone, was associated in the imperial dignity first with Ivan, his brother, and afterward with Natalie, his sister. Peter the Great is a many-sided figure, and such a huge one that to view him from all points would involve the making of a very considerable circuit. It would be easy to show that he was a coarse sen- sualist, and he had undoubtedly many of the tastes of a mere barbarian. He drank to excess, and delighted in such practical jokes as serving up live rats and mice in a pie-dish covered over with the usual paste. When he was in England his fa- vorite exercise consisted in charging with a wheelbarrow a trimly cut quickset hedge, which had at one time formed the joy of its garden-loving proprietor. He not only sentenced to death, but apparent- ly himself killed, the disaffected son whom he had thrown into prison, and who perished there. If you inquire in the museum of the Hermitage at St. Petersburg who carved those wooden figures, who turned those ivory ornaments, who made that pair of boots, who built that boat, the answer is always, The Tsar Peter. Inquire fur- ther who reformed the old Slavonic alpha- bet by introducing into it the symbols of THE ROMANOFFS. 105 sounds peculiar to the Russian language; who altered the constitution of the Russian Church ~o as to make the Tsar of Russia, in lieu of the Patriarch of Constanti- nople, its head; who established factories in Russia; who forced the Russian nobles, willing or unwilling, to accept the duties of state serv- ice, under pain of losing their privileges; who formed the Russian army; who created the Russian navy; who built St. Petersburg the window, as some one has said, from which Russia looks out upon Europe; who first led Russian levies with suc- cess against trained European troops; who among the Tsars was the first to get himself formally recognized by Europe as Emperor; who among the Tsars and Emperors com- menced that unceasing war against Turkey, which, beginning with -a defeat, a capitulation, and the nearest ap- proach to the personal surrender of the Tsar, has at length brought Russia up to and beyond the Balkans, and placed her, but for the political attitude of other pow- ers and the strategical position of Austria, within easy reach of Constantinople; who with Russian ships first navigated the Cas- pian; who with Russian troops first made war upon Persia; who sent out the first Russian expedition against Khiva, with instructions to its chief to dispatch from Khiva military, naval, and commercial agents disguised as traders to India in every case, the Tsar Peter. Whether Peter was what is called good need scarcely be considered, and ~certainly can not be decided. Exhorted on his death-bed to repent of some very bad actions which he had undoubtedly committed, he said that God would judge him, not by isolated deeds, but by the general tenor of his life. He was far more remarkable for energy in every possible direction than for piety or any sort of moral quality. He did not, how- ever, like killing the wrong man; and when he was decapitating with his own hand the rebellious strelitzes or arch- ers, who, detesting his innovations from the West, had, during his absence from Russia risen in insurrection against him, he hesitated to strike one bold young sol- dier who advanced gayly toward the block, exclaiming, Make room here ! and kick- ing on either side the fallen heads which stopped the way. This man will be of use to me, thought Peter. He spoke a few words to him, pardoned him, and gave him a commission in one of the regiments that he was forming. The forgiven one proved worthy of his pardon. His iiame was Orloff, and his descendants have often shown the same reckless daring which, as exhibited by PETER THE GREAT. 106 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. who now represents Russia at Paris is at least one of the most intelligent and most amiable. After Peter the Great no Russian sovereign engaged much the atten- tion of Europe until Catherine II. ascended the throne-that Catherine who, in erecting to Peter the eques- trian statue which adorns one of the St. Petersburg quays, caused to be inscribed on the pedestal, Petro Primo, Catherina Secunda, which, freely interpreted, means, To Peter the Great, Catherine the Great. Catherine, a German by birth and education, and a woman not only of literary tastes, but of considerable lit- erary power, had more genuine sym- pathy for the ideas of the West than Peter, who, after all, took from it lit- tle beyond its tools and its artifices, its ship - building and its military formationswith such ship-builders PETER ii. and soldiers as he could persuade to follow him. For literature and. the liberal arts he cared nothing, the founder of the family, made so strik- and of liberal ideas in connection with ing an inipression on the mind of Peter. government he had simply no concep- The Russian system of government has tion. When, on one occasion, he vis- been described as despotism tempered ited the Paris Opera-house in company with assassination, and the Orloffs, as if with the Regent of Orleans, he fell asleep, mindful of their ancestor in his mutinous alleging, however, that he had done so days, have not always ranged themselves on the side of despot- ism. But, on the whole, they have served the Russian govern- ment faithfully and unscrupu- lously: now burning the Turk- ish fleet in the bay of Tchesme, through the agency of newly in- vented fire-ships, taken into ac- tion by English captains; now, the more surely to betray her, professing the most ardent affec- tion for the unfortunate Princess Tarakanoff, who was to be deliv- ered by her pretended lover into the hands of her enemy the Em- press Catherine; now, under the Emperor Paul, starting, at the head of a force of Cossacks and horse-artillery, on an expedition to Khiva, with British India as final objective. The Orloff of Nicholass reign, who signed the Treaty of Paris, after the Crimean war, was known as, in a physical sense, one of the strongest men of his time; and the Prince Orloff ANNA. THE ROMANOFFS. 107 on purpose, because the entertainment had pleased him so much that he was afraid he might get to like it. Going to one of the English law courts, and see- ing a number of barristers in their wigs and gowns, he expressed much astonish- ment on being told who and what they were, adding that in Russia he had but two lawyers, and that he meant to hang one of them as soon as he returned home. He needed no advisers except in the form of experts, whose opinions he could adopt or reject according to his own judgment; and he had no notion of being controlled or enlightened or guided in any way by such an assembly as had elected his grand- father Michael Feodorovitch to the throne. He was a great centralizer and bureaucrat, moreover; and, according to the Slavo- phils of Russia, he impeded the national development of the country not only by seeking to force upon it an artificial civ- ilization borrowed from the West, but also by destroying existing institutions which were in conformity with the genius of the Russian people, and by neglecting to sum- mon and consult the Assembly of the Land. Without considering the value of these objections to Peters policy and niode of action, it may be enough to state that by a certain ultra-national party in Russia they are entertained. Peter, in spite of his journeys of obser- vation and of study to Western Europe, in spite, too, of his innovations from the Westfor the most part of a material and practical kindwas a thorough Russian. Catherine on the other hand, without leaving Russia, after she had once settled there, and while professing the highest admiration for everything Russian, waa essentially a child of the West. The thirty-seven years, however, which sep- arate the death of Peter the Great from the accession of Catherine the Great can not be passed over; and it is remarkable that during this comparatively brief pe- riod the Russian throne was occupied suc- cessively, though not without interrup- tion, by three women: Catherine, the widow of Peter; Anna Ivanovna, or daughter of Ivan (the Ivan in question being Ivan Alexievitch, one of Peters. elder brothers); and Elizabeth Petrov- na, or daughter of Peterthe child~ in fact, of Peter the Great. CATHERINE I. 108 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. In the course, too, of these thirty-seven years reigned three Emperors, who were far less distinguished than the three Em- presses, and of whom two were infinitely more unfortunate; for Ivan, grandson of Ivan the brother of Peter the Great was imprisoned as a child in the reign of Eliz- abeth his aunt, and assassinated in his dungeon, twenty-three years afterward, under the great Catherine; while Peter III., grandson of Alexis, Peter the Greats executed or murdered son, was the hus- band of Catherine the Great, by whose friends and favorites he was strangled. Nor must we forget Peter II., son of the unfortunate Alexis, and uncle of the equal- ly unfortunate Peter III., who, succeeding Catherine, the widow of his grandfather Peter the Great, occupied the throne for three years, from 1727 to 1730. The three Emperors reigned but three years and a half between them; whereas of the three Empresses, Catherine I. reign- ed two years, from 1725 to 1727; Anna Ivanovna, ten years, from 1730 to 1740; and Elizabeth, twenty years, from 1741 to 1761. There were plenty of palace in- trigues both under Anna and nuder Eliz abeth, and one of these took the form of an attempt made by the Dolgorouki family to procure a constitution. A highly interesting account of the reign of Elizabeth and of the part played therein by Bi- ron is given, in his Ivan dc Biron, by the late Sir Arthur Helps, who, however, lays too much stress on the anguish ex- perienced by that tender-heart- ed sovereign at the thought of her having, in a moment of spite, caused the talkative Prin- cess Lapoukhin to lose her tongue at the hands of the public executioner. With the accession of Peter III. in 1761 the question arises as to whether the reigning family in Russia should hence- forth be called the Romanoffs or the Holstein-Gottorps. Pe- ter III. was a lineal descendant of Peter the Great. Peter the Greats son, the Tsarevitch Alexis, had married the Prin- cess Charlotte Sophie of Bruns- wick-Wolfenbiittel, by whom he had one son, the future Pe- ter II., and one daughter, Anne, who married Charles Frederick, Duke of Hol- stein. The Duke of Holstein and Anne his wife were the parents of the future Peter III., grandson, by the mothers side of the Tsarevitch Alexis, and great-grand-. son of Peter the Great. In Peter III. s veins, then, as in those of his mother, ran German blood; and as he himself mar- ried a princess of Anhalt-Zerbst, and as every Russian Emperor since his time has taken to himself a German wife, it is not to be denied that, so far as blood is concerned, the imperial family of Rus- sia is much more German than Russian. The poet Pushkin used to exemplify in a very ingenious way the process by which the blood of the imperial family had, since Peter the Great, who was of pure Russian race, been gradually Germanized, until at last it had become almost entirely Ger- man, with only a sufficient admixture of Russian blood to give it a slight national coloring. He poured into a tumbler a glass of wine, and added a glass of water for the German wife of the Tsarevitch Alexis; then a second glass of water for the German husband of Anne, the Tsare ELIZABETH. THE IROMANOFFS. 109 vitchs daughter; then a third glass of water for the German Catherine II., wife of Peter III.; then a fourth and fifth for the German wives of Paul, the son of Pe- ter and Catherine, and of Nicholas, the son of Paul and of the Princess Marie of Wiirtemberg. The process of dilution as Pushkin considered it, was continued up to the last reign, both Nicholas, the son of Paul, and Alexander II., the son of Nicholas, having married Ger- man princesses. But the reigning family may still call themselves Romanoffs, and the circumstance of Peter III. s father having been Duke of Ilolstein-Gottorp no more makes them Holstein-Gottorps than the circumstance of the Prince of Waless being the son of Albert, Duke of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, gives the name of Saxe-Coburg to the royal family of England. Anne, the mother of Peter III., did not, it is true, ascend the throne, and she became Duchess of Holstein- Gottorp, even as the lamented daughter of Queen Victoria be- came Princess of Hesse - Darm- stadt. Had the Princess Alice been heir to the English crown, then the eldest child of her hus- band and herself would have been, as regards descent, in just the same position as Peter III.; when it would not have been said that the English dynasty was the dynasty of the Hesse-Darmstadts. It is often asserted, neverthelessand in Rus- sia perhaps more than in any other coun- trythat the Romanoffs have been re- placed on the Russian throne by the Hol- stein-Gottorps; and when the late Prince Peter Dolgorouki, at that time secretary in the Russian embassy at Paris, was, in consequence of something he had writ- ten, called upon by the Emperor Nicholas to return to Russia, he replied, first, by of- fering to send his photographic likeness instead, and secondly, by begging the Em- peror to remember that his (Dolgoroukis) ancestors were Grand Dukes of Moscow when those of his Majesty were not even Dukes of Holstein-Gottorp. Peter III. was, like the present heir to the English throne (to whom he presents no other resemblance), the child of the dynasty by the mothers side. He enter- tained so high an admiration for Frederick the Great that he withdrew the Russian armies by whom that warlike sovereign had been defeated, and who, at the time of their recall, were pressing him in the se- verest manner. He liked, in the literal sense of the words, to play at soldiers; and his wife said of him that if left to himself with his monkey, his mistress, and his violin, he ga.ve no trouble to any one. According to other authorities, his favorite sources of amusement were the aforesaid violin, a lap-dog, the society of a favorite negro named Narcissus, some French novels, and a German Bible. He was destined, however, before long, to be tranquillized in a permanent manner; and after he had been peacefully strangled, his by no means disconsolate widow, the pow- erful-minded, brilliantly endowed Cath- erine, ascended the throne. - Catherine, from her first arrival as a girl of fifteen at the Russian court, had the art and the industry to study Russian. A fortune-teller had predicted her high destiny; and whether she believed in the prophecy or not, she was prompted by her own ambition to ingratiate herself by all possible means with the people over whom she meant one day to rule. The admira- tion which, during his six months reign, her frivolous and feeble-minded husband testified for Frederick the Great, had PETER III. 110 HARPEIRS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. doubtless been inspired by her; for Cath- erines father, the Prince of Anhalt-Zerbst, was a general in the Prussian service. Her mother, moreover, had been an inti- mate friend of Fredericks, and the idea of Catherines marrying the heir to the Russian throne seems to have been sug- gested by Frederick himself. The policy of Russia toward, Prussia underwent in any case a fundamental change from the moment of Peter III.s accession; and this new attitude was most consistently maintained throughout Cath- erines long reign. Instead of fighting the King of Prussia, by which nothing was to be gained, Catherine listened to his propositions on the subject of Poland, and entered readily into his scheme for partitioning that country. The initiative of this culpable transaction is generally assigned to Russia. A fair examination, however, of the documents and facts re- lating to the case will convince the im- partial inquirer that the first overtures came from Prussia, whose sole justifica- tion is to be found in the fact that the Poles had already succumbed to Russia, that Russian armies held Poland in their power, and that in taking to himself a portion of Poland, Frederick at least pushed back the line which might virtu- ally be regarded as the Russian frontier in the direction of Germany. Frederick the Greats chief ob- ject, however, as proclaimed in his own correspondence, was to round off or arrondir his dominions, and in particu- lar to unite to tbe Brandenburg territory that province of East Prussia, with Kdnigsberg for its capital, which up to the time of the first partition of Poland (1772) was separated from it by the Polish province of West Prussia. Unlike Austria and Russia, Prussia has accepted full re- sponsibility for her share in the transaction of which the history, according to Camp- bell, forms the bloodiest rec- ord in the book of Time, the poet adding, with but scant at- tention to the facts of the case, that Sarmatia fell, unwept, without a crime. For there were four parties, as Lord Beaconsfield once said, to the dismemberment of PolandRussia, Prus- sia, Austria, and Poland herself. It is re- markable, all the same, that of the three partitioning powers not one in the pre- sent day seems proud of the transac- tion. Austria has often expressed re- gret for what, in her case, was at least as much a blunder as a crime. A Russian official writer, M. Fr~d~ric de Smitt, pub- lished, just before the Polish insurrection of 1863, a work based on letters and doc- uments drawn from the Prussian ar- chives, with the view of showing that the partition of Poland was Frederick the Greats project, and that it was forced by him upon the more or less reluctant Cath- erine; and only a few years ago Herr Von Sybel, professor of history at Bonn, wrote an article, of which an English transla- tion appeared in the Fortnightly Renew, intended to prove that the idea of the dis- memberment proceeded from Austria. The Polish poet Mickiewicz, in his Book of the Polish Pilgrims, finds a mystical and ironical significance in the names of the three potentates by whom the destruc- tion of Poland was effected. One was called Friedrich, who, far from being rich in peace, was always making war; the second was Joseph, who, instead of flying from sin, like the Joseph of Scripture, led into sin his own mother CATHERINE II. THE ROMANOFFS. 111 Maria Theresa; the third was Catherine, which means the chaste (casta regina), who, however, was the most un- chaste of women. Byron, in a line which can not here he reproduced, has char- acterized the Empress Cath- erine more forcibly, or at least more coarsely, than Mickiewicz would have thought of doing; and in the appendix to that canto of Don Juan which deals with the adventures of the hero at the court of the Russian Tsarina an edifying account may be found of the care she practiced in the selec- tion of her lovers, of the duties imposed upon the lady habitu- ally employed as intermediary while the preliminary negotia- tions with the chosen one were going on, of the generosity with which she treated them when she desired to see them no more, and of the deep regard which she continued to experience for them when they had ceased to inspire her with any warmer feeling. Catherine was constant in friendship if inconstant in love, and she seems to have possessed the secret of inspiring her favorites with gen- uine devotion to her interests. When she was tired of the formerly loved ones so- ciety, she gave him an estate with several thousand serfs attached to it, or made him governor of a Russian province, or ap- pointed him King of Poland. She un- derstood the art, which Goethe so much admired, of loosening delicate ties with as little pain as possible to the one who was to be permitted to go. If, however, on being wished good-by with as much po- liteness and kindness as was compatible with the circumstances, the rejected (or at least no longer acceptable) admirer could not prevail upon himself to disappear, he was obliged to put up with the conse- quences; and Potemkinthe conqueror of the Crimea, and the designer of that fan- tastic panoramic journey during which he exhibited to the delighted Empress painted villages and groups in card-board of hap- py peasantrycould only maintain his influence over Catherine by feigning not to be aware of the passing infidelities by which her general attachment to him or ~dependence upon him was varied. A list of Catherines lovers would oc- cupy too much space. But among those whom she honored with her favors Greg- ory Orloff must in particular be mention- ed, and it may be pointed out that Alexis Orloff, his brotherpreviously referred to as the destroyer of the Turkish fleet at Tchesme, and the seducer, abductor, and betrayer of the unhappy Princess Tara- kanoffwas as much devoted to her as Gregory himself. In the case, however, of a powerful empress, the question of the sincerity of that empresss lovers is at least open to consideration. Some of those who professed for Catherine the highest admi- ration and the deepest affection did so, in part at least, from political motives. Such may well have been the case with an English diplomatist, who, in diplo- matic language, was attached to her for a time; and we may be sure that the Orloffs, like Potemkin at a later period, were always alive to their own interests. As she advanced in years, Catherine ex- perienced the vexation of findingwhat a woman of her penetration was sure, in spite of the most assiduous flattery, to per- ceivethat she could no longer inspire affection by her own personal charms; and a strange anecdote is told of the means once employed by the judicious Potemkin to re-assure her on this point. PAUL. 112 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. His own protestations would have availed any case far less discreditable to her than nothing, and as it was absolutely neces- to them. She may well have admired sary for some political purpose to put the the brilliant and thoughtful writers to Empress in a benign disposition of mind, whom she addressed her praises and her he had recourse to the services of a stal- presents; but the liberal-minded philos- wart young grenadier, who, in blind obe- ophers could not consistently in their turn dience to the orders given to him by the admire the despotic Empress of Russia. Voltaire applauded the dismem- berment of Poland, and longed to see the Russians drive the Turks from Constantinople, where he pro- fessed to believe that they would re- establish the Greek Empire. When, however, he was questioned by a traveller who knew Russia well as to the meaning of his affection for that country, be replied, Ils m out donn~ des bonnes pelisses, et je suis tr~s frileux. The literary mind is easily touch- ed by attentions from high quarters, and when Dr. Johnson heard that the Empress Catherine had ordered Rasselas to be translated into Rus- sian. he expressed deep and per- fectly natural satisfaction at the thought of being read on the banks of the Volga. The great Catherine aspired to the character of a liberal sovereign, and she called together at Moscow ALEXANDER I. a representative assembly, to which she submitted a number of abstract principles, finely conceived and all-powerful Potemkin, made to the sur- elaborately expressed. The assembly was prised but delighted Empress an abrupt in the end to have made laws. But no- and passionate declaration of love, thing came of its deliberations, and it. Like Peter, though not to the same ex- soon broke up to meet no more. tent, Catherine was many-sided. But the Catherine II. was succeeded by her son literary and philosophical tastes which so Paul, who may or may not have been the much distinguished her were, as before son of Peter, her husband. Pauls legit- observed, quite wanting in Peter. One imacy has been denied; and it was chiefly might imagine, from some authors who with the view of disproving it that the have dealt with the character of Cath- Russian revolutionist, the late Alexander erine, that the delight she seemed to take Herzen, brought out some twenty years. in corresponding with Grimm, Voltaire, ago in London the real or pretended and so many of the most eminent French Memoirs of Gatherine II., intrusted to writers of her time was more or less af- him for publication. fected, and that the true object of her Paul was madly, insanely despotic. flattering epistles and of her liberal pen- He sought to regulate the costume and sions was to secure the good opinion demeanor of his subjects; and the only of men whose good opinion was indeed attitude that pleased him was one of ex- worth having. But Voltaire, Diderot, treme humility. Asked by a foreign vis- DAlembert, and the whole of the ency- itor who were the most important men in clopm~edists would have been powerless to Russia, he replied that there were no im- impede the policy of Catherine had she portant men in Russia except those he left them perfectly free to do so; and the happened to speak to, and that their im- relations between Catherine and her lit- portance lasted just as long as he contin- erary correspondents in France were in ued speaking to them. He was not, how- THE ROMANOFFS. is ever, without generous impulses. He visited the wounded Kosciuszko in his prison (for if Freedom shrieked when Kosciuszko fell, that did not prevent the Polish patriot from recovering, and in due time getting up again), and he made him liberal offers on the unacceptable condition of his taking a generals com- mand in the Russian army. Paul had not, like his highly cultivated mother, a taste for literature. But he once dabbled in journalism; and after writing a para- graph for the official gazette of St. Peters- burg, in which he proposed that quarrels between states should in future be settled by encounters between their sovereigns, each sovereign to be attended by his prime minister in the character of esquire, he caused the paragraph to be reproduced in a Hamburg newspaper, with the added remark that this was apparently some wild notion of that madman Pauls. He had chivalrous ideas, and in return for the hospitality which he had granted to the Knights of Malta, was, although of a dif- ferent religion, made chief of the order. Twice he formed a project for driving the English out of India-once in conjunction with Napoleon, whose troops were to have marched with his own through Persia and Afghanistan, and once on his own ac- count, when, as before mentioned, he in- trusted a general of the Orloff family with the command of a force, which actually started for Khiva. It was recalled, how- ever, when, Paul having been brought to an untimely end, his eldest son Alexander ascended the throne. Paul, during the long reign of his mo- ther, Catherine, had not forgotten his fa- thers misadventure; and one of his first acts as Emperor was to make the assassins of Peter III. do penance at his tomb. The same death awaited him which had be- fallen his weak-minded parent. The no- bles of his court became tired of his tyr- anny and his caprice; and when a certain number of them had been sent to Siberia the more enterprising among the remain- der determined, through the employment of savage but efficacious means, to save themselves by anticipation from a like fate. The liberal-minded and in many re- spects gentle Catherine (though the effect of the formidable insurrection headed by Pugatcheff, the Cossack impersonator of the murdered Peter III., had the natural effect of rendering her very despotic dur ing the latter years of her reign) had been followed by the insanely tyrannical Paul, and Paul was now succeeded by the mild-mannered, sympathetic Alexan- der I., who was to make way for the ri- gidly governing, iron-handed Nicholas, who was to be replaced on the throne by the kindly disposed Alexander 11.so foully murdered by men who would never have dared to lift a hand against a despot by conviction like his father. Alexander I. will be remembered as the sovereign under whom Russia was in- vaded by the French and their allies, and under whom, in due time, the Russians, forcing the French to retrace their steps, and constantly re-enforced by defections. from Napoleons army, pursued them un- til pursued and pursuers found themselves at Paris. All this is commemorated in true lapidary style on the monument which marks the battle-field of Borodino. Napoleon, says the inscription, enter- ed Moscow 1812; Alexander entered Paris 1814. Similarly on the stone erected at Kovno in Lithuania, as a reminder of the passage through that town of the grand army, it is written: Napoleon marched through here with 700,000 men; he marched back with 70,000. Alexander I. is too modern a figure to need portrayal in detail. In 1814, and again in 1815, he was the most popular of the sovereigns who assembled first at Paris and afterward at Vienna, and who for the most part visited London. He was theoretically a liberal, and had the task presented less difficulties than in fact attended it, would probably have intro- duced liberal institutions into his own country. Madame De Stahl once told him that his own character was a charter and a constitution for his subjects; to which, in no way blinded by this shame- less flattery, he modestly replied that even in that case he would be nothing more than a fortunate accident. It is always difficult, in judging a mans conduct, to say how much of it is due to character, and how much to circum- stances. Nicholas, however, who suc- ceeded Alexander I., was stern by nature, while sternness, moreover was forced upon him by the attitude of an influential portion of his subjects on his accession to the throne. After suppressing the military and po- litical insurrection of December, 1829, he 114 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. hanged the five leaders and sent the prin- cipal conspirators, who, for the most part, belonged to the leading families of the empire, by hundreds to Siberia. From that moment to the end of his reign his policy was simply one of repression, no action, no word, no thought or aspira- tion, which seemed calculated, in how- ever remote a degree, to interfere with his system, being tolerated. He was as decided, and as rapid in his decisions, as he was severe; and when the engineers consulted him as to the course of the projected railway front St. Petersburg to Moscow, he took up a ruler and traced a straight line between the two capitals. Once, as head of the Russian Church, he was requested by the Holy Synod, in a long memorandum, to declare whether or not the existence of purgatory was an or- thodox doctrine. After reading the doc- ument, he simply wrote on the margin, No Purgatory. He engaged in four warsthe campaign of 182829 against Turkey, the suppression of the Polish in- surrection of 1831, the suppression of the Hungarian insurrection of 184849, and the war known as that of the Crimea, in 185455. The Crimean war and the failure of his military system, as brought to light in that struggle, broke Nicholass heart. On his death-bed he exhorted his son and successor to liberate the serfsa fact authoritatively set forth in his work on the subject by Mr. Victor Porochin, formerly professor of polit- ical economy at the University of St. Petersburg; and one of the first cares of Alexander II. on his accession was to consider how he could best execute his fathers injunction. But to deal adequately with the events of the reign recently brought to so sad a termina- tion, and with the internal reforms of various kinds introduced by this well- meaning but frequently undecided sov- ereign, will require the space of an en- tire article. The alternation of character in the sovereigns who have successively ruled Russia since Catherine II. has atready been noticed. But a series of what may be only accidents does not constitute a law; and it would be worse than pre- mature to assume because Paul was un- like his mother Catherine, and Alexan- der I. unlike his father Paul, and Nich- olas unlike his brother Alexander I., and Alexander II. unlike his father Nich- olas, that therefore Alexander III. will be wanting in the many good qualities and in the proverbial good intentions by which Alexander II. was distinguished. DEATH IN THE SKY. Wno that looks upward to the sky In some transparent snmmer night, When mystic stars are burning bright, When there is nothing wide and high Save what enchants the sight Who that looks upward to the life We call eternal, and which seems Quiescent as the flow of streams, Unmarred by hitter death or strife, Ethereal as our dreams Thinks that within the calmly ~st World-nature rolling overhead Suns circle which are cold and dead, And spheres which blazed in ages past Are lifeless globes that shed No glimmer through the lucent air, Yet whirl upon their unseen ways Like ghosts of other skies and days, Like shadows lingering darkly where The ancient splendor stays? As radiant earth is but the tomb Where de th awaits behind its bars Hearts torn with many wounds and scars, The sky is an unfathoined gloom A sepulchre of stars. NICHOLAS.

114 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. hanged the five leaders and sent the prin- cipal conspirators, who, for the most part, belonged to the leading families of the empire, by hundreds to Siberia. From that moment to the end of his reign his policy was simply one of repression, no action, no word, no thought or aspira- tion, which seemed calculated, in how- ever remote a degree, to interfere with his system, being tolerated. He was as decided, and as rapid in his decisions, as he was severe; and when the engineers consulted him as to the course of the projected railway front St. Petersburg to Moscow, he took up a ruler and traced a straight line between the two capitals. Once, as head of the Russian Church, he was requested by the Holy Synod, in a long memorandum, to declare whether or not the existence of purgatory was an or- thodox doctrine. After reading the doc- ument, he simply wrote on the margin, No Purgatory. He engaged in four warsthe campaign of 182829 against Turkey, the suppression of the Polish in- surrection of 1831, the suppression of the Hungarian insurrection of 184849, and the war known as that of the Crimea, in 185455. The Crimean war and the failure of his military system, as brought to light in that struggle, broke Nicholass heart. On his death-bed he exhorted his son and successor to liberate the serfsa fact authoritatively set forth in his work on the subject by Mr. Victor Porochin, formerly professor of polit- ical economy at the University of St. Petersburg; and one of the first cares of Alexander II. on his accession was to consider how he could best execute his fathers injunction. But to deal adequately with the events of the reign recently brought to so sad a termina- tion, and with the internal reforms of various kinds introduced by this well- meaning but frequently undecided sov- ereign, will require the space of an en- tire article. The alternation of character in the sovereigns who have successively ruled Russia since Catherine II. has atready been noticed. But a series of what may be only accidents does not constitute a law; and it would be worse than pre- mature to assume because Paul was un- like his mother Catherine, and Alexan- der I. unlike his father Paul, and Nich- olas unlike his brother Alexander I., and Alexander II. unlike his father Nich- olas, that therefore Alexander III. will be wanting in the many good qualities and in the proverbial good intentions by which Alexander II. was distinguished. DEATH IN THE SKY. Wno that looks upward to the sky In some transparent snmmer night, When mystic stars are burning bright, When there is nothing wide and high Save what enchants the sight Who that looks upward to the life We call eternal, and which seems Quiescent as the flow of streams, Unmarred by hitter death or strife, Ethereal as our dreams Thinks that within the calmly ~st World-nature rolling overhead Suns circle which are cold and dead, And spheres which blazed in ages past Are lifeless globes that shed No glimmer through the lucent air, Yet whirl upon their unseen ways Like ghosts of other skies and days, Like shadows lingering darkly where The ancient splendor stays? As radiant earth is but the tomb Where de th awaits behind its bars Hearts torn with many wounds and scars, The sky is an unfathoined gloom A sepulchre of stars. NICHOLAS. FAUSTUS. A WINTER midnight: in his lumbered room Faustus, the great magician, sat alone; A magic lamp flared ghastly throu,h the gloom On instruments, books, papers, round him strown; Smote not his ear the north winds hollow boom Nor rattling sleet against the window blown. Wrapped in stern thought, the Master, strong and wise, Sat wrinkling his gray brows down oer his eves. It was the last hour of the fatal day That closed the number of his years misspent; For he whose word the spirits must yet obey That live and work in every element Must soon lay by that supernatural sway. He can not now repair, nor even repent; While oer the storm the clocks remorseless call To the swift moments echoes from the wall. And Faustus murmured: I must listen to it Times footfallsthough I fain would stop my ears; Fain would I dash it down, but will not do it; I can not hush the wail of wasted years, And bootless, when my life is drained, to rue it; Prayer can not help, else would I pray; nor tears, Else would I weep. Time will not stay his pace, And Death and I shall soon stand face to face. My scholars they have left me here alone To wrestle with my doomfor me to pray; For I, sometime to outward seeming grown Indifferent if it hasten or delay, Chid them, because I sank to hear their moan; For well I knqw, crc night shall pass away, My soul shall enter that dread realm of pain Whose brazen vault makes prayer forever vain. I am not grown indifferent that I know My doom is certain as eternity; Bo~ind to a rack whose tortures ever grow, From which I never more can wrest me free: Not worse to plunge at once in infinite woe, What I must, suffer, be what I must be, Than linger, mid dead hopes and joys and fears, The wreck and ruin of my wasted years. I would I mi~ht not think, yet think I must; I can not, what I most desire, forget. O were I nothin~ more than senseless dust, Or like a day which when its sun has set Sleeps, neer to wake! Alas! that holy trust Of happy sleep, after lifes fume and fret, I know it not; theres nothing holy mine: Repining all my days, I still repine. Remorse, remorse, thou sharpest stint of fate! The thoughts which I have never dared to think Now swell my heart, and grow articulate In words I can not smother. On the brink Of life and death, oerlooking both, I wait, And living thus in both, from either shrink; Yet could I welcome now hells fiery doom, If those fierce flames these memories might consume. Is there forgetfulness in hell? I live Life oer a~ain these moments, each a year. O fearful power of memory that can give Life back again, though only on its bier! Life that ran throu~h the years, as through a sieve Runs water, leaving nothing. Why, so near The end of all, should Time turn back again To wring my spirit with remorseful pain? Yoa. LXYII.No. 3978 Alas! I dreamed not to have ended so! A golden, burning goal had made me blind. I dreamed of brin,~ing good to man below, And thought to leave a glorious name behind; To strip from knowledge all the empty show, And strike to the great centre through the rind; To make the spirits serve me, and compel Time to yield all his secrets to my spelL Ah, well I mind me of that summer day When, driven by the demon of unrest, I passed the city gate, and took my way Toward the haunted forest in the west That like a cloud on the horizon lay; And with my purpose only half confessed, Dreading to linger oer what I would shun, I hastened forward in the setting sun. And at the corner of four roads that met Just in the border of that haunted wood I stayed my feet what time the sun had set. It was a grim, unholy neighborhood, And all about were fearful thiu~s that whet My honor: close at hafid a gallows stood, And underneath it was a murderers grave, And in the forests edge a witches cave. The mystic circle and the signs I drew; And then I waited for the deepening night, Until the screeching owl above me flew With her wild cry of warning and affright. The grass around was wet with holy dew, Save where I stood; and then I struck a light With magic implements, and spake a spell That cleft the world and echoed down in hell. Then darkness thickened round me like a wall, Hiding the world, but not the starry sky; And from it I could hear the demons call My name, but I would yield t,hem no reply; And then there fell a silent interval Of nameless horror; not a sound nor cry Was heard, but spectral eyes that froze my blood Glared into the strong circle where I stood. Then suddenly the swarming air was full Of unima~inably frightful shapes Led by a skeleton that bore his skull Under his arm, a crowd of dragon apes Whirled round me, stretchin,, out their arms to pull Their master from his vantage. Then a lapse Of utter darkness; while, with folded arms, I waited for the end of these alarms. It came. A radiance like a summer dawn Disclosed a vision out of fairy-land An overshadowed arbor on a lawn, Where lay a lovely lady, with a band Of fair attendants, and a milk-white fawn Crouching beside her feet. She raised her hand And greeted me and smiled. Not Eve so fair In Eden as that daughter of the air. Toward me she cast her large and lustrous eyes, And smiled, and drew me to her with her hand; Her red lips parted with voluptuous sighs, And her alluring beauty half unmanned My spirit, and oercame me with surprise; But I had nobler favors to demand Of the dread Powers than love, however sweet; And darkness swallowed soon the fair deceit.

FAUSTUS. A WINTER midnight: in his lumbered room Faustus, the great magician, sat alone; A magic lamp flared ghastly throu,h the gloom On instruments, books, papers, round him strown; Smote not his ear the north winds hollow boom Nor rattling sleet against the window blown. Wrapped in stern thought, the Master, strong and wise, Sat wrinkling his gray brows down oer his eves. It was the last hour of the fatal day That closed the number of his years misspent; For he whose word the spirits must yet obey That live and work in every element Must soon lay by that supernatural sway. He can not now repair, nor even repent; While oer the storm the clocks remorseless call To the swift moments echoes from the wall. And Faustus murmured: I must listen to it Times footfallsthough I fain would stop my ears; Fain would I dash it down, but will not do it; I can not hush the wail of wasted years, And bootless, when my life is drained, to rue it; Prayer can not help, else would I pray; nor tears, Else would I weep. Time will not stay his pace, And Death and I shall soon stand face to face. My scholars they have left me here alone To wrestle with my doomfor me to pray; For I, sometime to outward seeming grown Indifferent if it hasten or delay, Chid them, because I sank to hear their moan; For well I knqw, crc night shall pass away, My soul shall enter that dread realm of pain Whose brazen vault makes prayer forever vain. I am not grown indifferent that I know My doom is certain as eternity; Bo~ind to a rack whose tortures ever grow, From which I never more can wrest me free: Not worse to plunge at once in infinite woe, What I must, suffer, be what I must be, Than linger, mid dead hopes and joys and fears, The wreck and ruin of my wasted years. I would I mi~ht not think, yet think I must; I can not, what I most desire, forget. O were I nothin~ more than senseless dust, Or like a day which when its sun has set Sleeps, neer to wake! Alas! that holy trust Of happy sleep, after lifes fume and fret, I know it not; theres nothing holy mine: Repining all my days, I still repine. Remorse, remorse, thou sharpest stint of fate! The thoughts which I have never dared to think Now swell my heart, and grow articulate In words I can not smother. On the brink Of life and death, oerlooking both, I wait, And living thus in both, from either shrink; Yet could I welcome now hells fiery doom, If those fierce flames these memories might consume. Is there forgetfulness in hell? I live Life oer a~ain these moments, each a year. O fearful power of memory that can give Life back again, though only on its bier! Life that ran throu~h the years, as through a sieve Runs water, leaving nothing. Why, so near The end of all, should Time turn back again To wring my spirit with remorseful pain? Yoa. LXYII.No. 3978 Alas! I dreamed not to have ended so! A golden, burning goal had made me blind. I dreamed of brin,~ing good to man below, And thought to leave a glorious name behind; To strip from knowledge all the empty show, And strike to the great centre through the rind; To make the spirits serve me, and compel Time to yield all his secrets to my spelL Ah, well I mind me of that summer day When, driven by the demon of unrest, I passed the city gate, and took my way Toward the haunted forest in the west That like a cloud on the horizon lay; And with my purpose only half confessed, Dreading to linger oer what I would shun, I hastened forward in the setting sun. And at the corner of four roads that met Just in the border of that haunted wood I stayed my feet what time the sun had set. It was a grim, unholy neighborhood, And all about were fearful thiu~s that whet My honor: close at hafid a gallows stood, And underneath it was a murderers grave, And in the forests edge a witches cave. The mystic circle and the signs I drew; And then I waited for the deepening night, Until the screeching owl above me flew With her wild cry of warning and affright. The grass around was wet with holy dew, Save where I stood; and then I struck a light With magic implements, and spake a spell That cleft the world and echoed down in hell. Then darkness thickened round me like a wall, Hiding the world, but not the starry sky; And from it I could hear the demons call My name, but I would yield t,hem no reply; And then there fell a silent interval Of nameless horror; not a sound nor cry Was heard, but spectral eyes that froze my blood Glared into the strong circle where I stood. Then suddenly the swarming air was full Of unima~inably frightful shapes Led by a skeleton that bore his skull Under his arm, a crowd of dragon apes Whirled round me, stretchin,, out their arms to pull Their master from his vantage. Then a lapse Of utter darkness; while, with folded arms, I waited for the end of these alarms. It came. A radiance like a summer dawn Disclosed a vision out of fairy-land An overshadowed arbor on a lawn, Where lay a lovely lady, with a band Of fair attendants, and a milk-white fawn Crouching beside her feet. She raised her hand And greeted me and smiled. Not Eve so fair In Eden as that daughter of the air. Toward me she cast her large and lustrous eyes, And smiled, and drew me to her with her hand; Her red lips parted with voluptuous sighs, And her alluring beauty half unmanned My spirit, and oercame me with surprise; But I had nobler favors to demand Of the dread Powers than love, however sweet; And darkness swallowed soon the fair deceit. 116 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. A pause: then stood the Tempter at my side. He promised me the gift of spirit-sight, That I might know whateer the world may hide, And pierce the farthest region of the night; Mi,.~ht loose the secrets wisest men had tried In vain to loose, and learn the awful might That rules the universe and all beyond My mortal range. And then we made that bond. With him I sought the regions under-ground, And passed the boundaries of eternal pain; Saw Death on his white horse, that made no sound, Though rushing by with all his ghastly train; Searched through the universe from bound to bound, Only to find my utmost knowledge vain. The heights and depths were subject to my will, But the dread secret was a secret still. Knowledge! what gavst thou but the power to see That nothing could be known? What profit all The arts that bound the spirits under me? I grope, a blind man on a doorless wall, Where all is mystery and perplexity, And where alike the wise and foolish fall. Ah, Natures open book! was ever sage Could tell the meaning of the simplest page? O mother Nature! kind to lowly wants, Thou givst the husbandman due sun and rain, Seed-time and harvest, fair and bounteous plants, For use and show, and makst no labor vain; But when the heart of man for knowledge pants, And when, with tears and sighs and spirit-pain, He casts abroad the seed of earnest thou~ht, Ah! wherefore ever mock his hopes with naught? Alas, that I became so basely proud, And gave my soul to bitterness and scorn; That, when I found I could not grasp the cloud, I, who once thought me for high purpose born, Should play the common juggler for the crowd, Amuse them with low tricks with cup and horn, And be the chief buffoon at emperors courts! Yet, ah! my heart was never in those sports. 0 loathsome pandering to gaping boors And royal fools! 0 impotence of pride, Which drove me into woods and lonely moors! For, ah! the universe is not so wide That one can fly those merciless pursuers, Remorse and Shame, nor from them ever hide, Though one should seek in hell the deepest cave; And cruel even the rest they give their slave. Even Death, that makes all earthly troubles well, An ever-haunting phantom, mocked my prayer; And that sweet apparition, sent from hell, Lured me but certain moments from despair, Most beautiful of phantoms, and most fell; Was never earthly maiden half so fair; I mi,,ht have deemed her fresh from paradise, Yet knew she was a demon in disguise. No more! no more! It makes my senses reel. It almost makes me wish for life again. Yet surely life, like a revolving wheel, Could but turn on to this same hour of pain. Rouse, Faustus! rouse thyself, and set thy heel On bitter-sweet remembrances and vain Remorse: for thee the past is ever past, And for the time to come the die is cast. Tis cast! The Judge in heaven has closed His ear. I will not pray vain prayers, will not repent. Away with memory and away with fear! Not with loud blasphemy will I resent My doom, but with calm mind and will austere Await my adversaries malevolent: Theyll come to rend me limb from limb ere long, But though I am their prey, will find me strong. Shall I, who once have forced those brazen doors Where the doomed spirit supplicates in vain, And breathed the hot breath of those parch?~d shores, Now quake to see those portals yawn again, And face the lake that ceaseless flames and roars? Not loss of heaven, nor hells eternal pain Nay, nay, not that I grieve, not this I fear, But his triumphant and malignant jeer. And must I evermore lie crushed and dumb, Vanquished, and emptied of my vaunted skill? In many a struggle have I overcome This Lucifer, and bent him to my will; And wherefore in that lower world succumb? Shall I not Faustus be, and Master still? Him I defy, with all his brood accursed It strikes! My time is finished! Do your worst! CARLSBAD WATERS. ANCY a town builded on the lid of a F boiling kettle. That is Carlsbad. What humorist first said this I do not know, but it is a fair dash at a description of the place in its character of a thermal spring, and it is with that character that we are concerned in this paper. Carls- bad is an attractive place in itself during the summer months; the scenery and the excursions in the neighborhood are of the most romantic; and there is a kindly tone in the social life which contrasts notice- ably with the stress and anxiousness of that on the Prussian side of the frontier. The Austrian geniality is charming; but this I must not discuss here, nor the other pleasant features of life in the town. Carls- bad as a curative mineral spring will form a topic large enough for the present. A little topography, however, will not be out of place. Carlsbad is an Austrian town of twelve thousand inhabitants and nine hundred dwelling-houses, situated in the northwestern corner of Bohemia, and near the frontier. It is a thriving manu- facturing place; but a main source of its prosperity is naturally the mineral waters. More than twenty thousand guests came last year (1882) to try their virtues. The stream of visitors has been flowing during centuries of summers to Carlsbad ever since the thirteenth century at

116 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. A pause: then stood the Tempter at my side. He promised me the gift of spirit-sight, That I might know whateer the world may hide, And pierce the farthest region of the night; Mi,.~ht loose the secrets wisest men had tried In vain to loose, and learn the awful might That rules the universe and all beyond My mortal range. And then we made that bond. With him I sought the regions under-ground, And passed the boundaries of eternal pain; Saw Death on his white horse, that made no sound, Though rushing by with all his ghastly train; Searched through the universe from bound to bound, Only to find my utmost knowledge vain. The heights and depths were subject to my will, But the dread secret was a secret still. Knowledge! what gavst thou but the power to see That nothing could be known? What profit all The arts that bound the spirits under me? I grope, a blind man on a doorless wall, Where all is mystery and perplexity, And where alike the wise and foolish fall. Ah, Natures open book! was ever sage Could tell the meaning of the simplest page? O mother Nature! kind to lowly wants, Thou givst the husbandman due sun and rain, Seed-time and harvest, fair and bounteous plants, For use and show, and makst no labor vain; But when the heart of man for knowledge pants, And when, with tears and sighs and spirit-pain, He casts abroad the seed of earnest thou~ht, Ah! wherefore ever mock his hopes with naught? Alas, that I became so basely proud, And gave my soul to bitterness and scorn; That, when I found I could not grasp the cloud, I, who once thought me for high purpose born, Should play the common juggler for the crowd, Amuse them with low tricks with cup and horn, And be the chief buffoon at emperors courts! Yet, ah! my heart was never in those sports. 0 loathsome pandering to gaping boors And royal fools! 0 impotence of pride, Which drove me into woods and lonely moors! For, ah! the universe is not so wide That one can fly those merciless pursuers, Remorse and Shame, nor from them ever hide, Though one should seek in hell the deepest cave; And cruel even the rest they give their slave. Even Death, that makes all earthly troubles well, An ever-haunting phantom, mocked my prayer; And that sweet apparition, sent from hell, Lured me but certain moments from despair, Most beautiful of phantoms, and most fell; Was never earthly maiden half so fair; I mi,,ht have deemed her fresh from paradise, Yet knew she was a demon in disguise. No more! no more! It makes my senses reel. It almost makes me wish for life again. Yet surely life, like a revolving wheel, Could but turn on to this same hour of pain. Rouse, Faustus! rouse thyself, and set thy heel On bitter-sweet remembrances and vain Remorse: for thee the past is ever past, And for the time to come the die is cast. Tis cast! The Judge in heaven has closed His ear. I will not pray vain prayers, will not repent. Away with memory and away with fear! Not with loud blasphemy will I resent My doom, but with calm mind and will austere Await my adversaries malevolent: Theyll come to rend me limb from limb ere long, But though I am their prey, will find me strong. Shall I, who once have forced those brazen doors Where the doomed spirit supplicates in vain, And breathed the hot breath of those parch?~d shores, Now quake to see those portals yawn again, And face the lake that ceaseless flames and roars? Not loss of heaven, nor hells eternal pain Nay, nay, not that I grieve, not this I fear, But his triumphant and malignant jeer. And must I evermore lie crushed and dumb, Vanquished, and emptied of my vaunted skill? In many a struggle have I overcome This Lucifer, and bent him to my will; And wherefore in that lower world succumb? Shall I not Faustus be, and Master still? Him I defy, with all his brood accursed It strikes! My time is finished! Do your worst! CARLSBAD WATERS. ANCY a town builded on the lid of a F boiling kettle. That is Carlsbad. What humorist first said this I do not know, but it is a fair dash at a description of the place in its character of a thermal spring, and it is with that character that we are concerned in this paper. Carls- bad is an attractive place in itself during the summer months; the scenery and the excursions in the neighborhood are of the most romantic; and there is a kindly tone in the social life which contrasts notice- ably with the stress and anxiousness of that on the Prussian side of the frontier. The Austrian geniality is charming; but this I must not discuss here, nor the other pleasant features of life in the town. Carls- bad as a curative mineral spring will form a topic large enough for the present. A little topography, however, will not be out of place. Carlsbad is an Austrian town of twelve thousand inhabitants and nine hundred dwelling-houses, situated in the northwestern corner of Bohemia, and near the frontier. It is a thriving manu- facturing place; but a main source of its prosperity is naturally the mineral waters. More than twenty thousand guests came last year (1882) to try their virtues. The stream of visitors has been flowing during centuries of summers to Carlsbad ever since the thirteenth century at CARLSBAD WATERS. 117 least. Later than this the springs re- ceived their present name from Charles IV., Emperor of Austria and King of Bo- hemia. The local legend is that he dis- covered them in the year 1358 while on a hunting excursion. A dog, too eagerly pursuing a deer, fell into one of the hot springs; his yelping brought the Emperor first upon the spot, where the thermal water, wreathed with clouds of vapor, pulsed out of the cleft of the rock. The huntsmen, rushing in after their leader, named the place Charless Bath, and Carlsbad it has been called to the present day. The story is a pretty one, and may be substantially true; but as to the discov- ery of the springs, they were well known long before the time of the imperial hunt- er. Their site is indicated upon a Bohe- mian map of the previous century under the name of Wary, or warm bath; while the stream upon which Carlsbad town is built has a name much older than this. Its meaning settles the question of the antiquity of the springs. The Tepl means the tepid stream, the words ety- mology being the same in English and in Slavic. But the Emperor Charles, if he did not discover the place, at least gave it its vogue; he frequented Carlsbad, and built a palace there in 1358. Ever since that time it has been known as the most efficacious of the many springs in German- speaking countries. The town of Carlsbad occupies the ro- mantic valley of the Tepl; the houses are beaded along the rapid yet winding stream for a distance of two miles from its conflu- ence with the river Eger, a stream which falls into the northward - flowing Elbe. The town occupies both sides of the stream, and toward its centre the houses are crowded against the hills on either side, so that a building may have five sto- ries in front and but two or three in the rear. The finer boarding-houses are built upon the hills which wall in this narrow valley; and it need not be said that their elevation gives them a somewhat purer air than those which stand upon the low- er levels. But the town itself has an ele- vation (at the river level opposite to the Sprudel colonnade) of 1214 feet above the Adriatic Sea; and this height, in the lati- tude of the place, 500 north (the longi- tude is 13~ east from Greenwich), insures cool nights after the warmest days. The heat is seldom excessive, though the cli- mate is somewhat variable. The mean temperatures are: summer, 664-s F.; spring and autumn, each 470; winter, 33~O; the year, 430 The air is pure, and the pre- vailing winds are northerly and westerly. Eighteen of the wonder - working springs, of various degrees of warmth, are now in use in this pleasant valley. They are ranged in a nearly straight line that extends from north to south about a thou- sand yards; it is presumably a crack in the lid of the boiling kettle. Deep borings have been made in the crust at various points. Dr. Pichler says that the borer, after piercing this calcareous crust upon which the town is built, penetrated into a vast subterranean reservoir, which it was impossible to sound. Every ef- fort to measure the depth of this gulf has failed. From these deep caverns the mineral waters find their outlet under high press- ure, and sometimes with amazing force. The Sprudel, the most famous, most abun- dant, and the hottest of the springs, after spouting and fuming for centuries through its covered way, took a fancy of recent years to force a new outlet for itself, and it appeared, to the consternation of the Carlsbad people, at the bottom of the ad- joining Tepl river, which it warmed and set a-steaming. Total cessation of the Sprudel bathing and drinking cure in consequencean arrangement not at all to be permitted. The engineers went at once to work. But it took months of toil to replace the spring. It was necessary to level the bed of the river, and to pave it for many rods with massive slabs of granite, clamped and cemented; while the banks of the stream itself were sealed with walls of cement. This done, the runaway spring was forced back to its ancient channel, where it plays to-day as of yore. It is a wonderful sight, at least until use has familiarized it, that pulsation of the hot earth artery. It reminded me of Hobbess notion, that I used to read about in college, of the earth being a living crea- ture, with veins and arteries and a sys- temic circulation like an animals. The mineral ichor rises and dances in clouds of steam; it fumes, it spouts, it spatters, the column playing at varying heights, according to the varying pressure of the escaping gases; and the mineral vapors stain the girders of the high colonnade above it. I have seen, fountains of liquid lava toss and writhe in the same way, but 118 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. they played a thousand feet in the air, and upon a mountain summit. The utmost am- bition of this hot fountain of Carlsbad is to leap to a mans height, and to scatter a few drops now and then outside of the great iron basin in which it plays. The small geyser flows away, as smoothly as a verse of Virgil, through an opening in the bot- tom of the basin. Two little maids of twelve, neatly dressed, dip up the water for the guests that file slowly past the spring. Every morning, for two hours at a time, these girl-priestesses of the fountain dispense the thermal waters to a great coin- pany of people gathered from every part of Europe; and here probably the famous springs will flow for many generations to come. And whence do these waters come? What is the secret of their origin? In what living laboratory far under-ground do they acquire their healing properties? The theory of the Carlsbad mineral springs is a simple one. The surface wa- ters of the region, the rain and melting snow, the Tepl water itself, penetrate through the crevices of the granite rock to a great depth, dissolving more and more of its constituents as they sink deeper, and receive more and more of the earth~ s in- creasing heat. That heat, at the depth of about 8000 feet, is equal to that of the hot- test Carlsbad spring; its reservoir, there- fore, can not be less than 8000 feet below the surface. The waters have now re- ceived from the rock all their mineral constituents, the carbonates of soda, lime, and magnesia, with many others, and now a great quantity of carbonic acid gas is set free by the heat, forcing the mineralized water back to the surface as a hot spring. It returns by channels incrusted with min- eral deposits, and so made smoother and easier than those in which the surface wa- ter trickles down. And the hottest spring is, naturally, that which comes by the shortest channel from the common reser- voir. This is the Sprudel, which loses the least of its heat on the way to the surface. All the other springs come from the same reservoir, but by narrower or more tortu- ous channels, and so are cooler when they reach the surface. The chemical constitution of all these springs is almost exactly the same, except that the cooler springs retain more of the carbonic acid gas. They contain only such substances as they can dissolve un- der heat and pressure, from the granite rock through which they have been fil- tered. The taste of the waters has been likened to that of chicken broth a little over-salted; but that resemblance is less striking than in the case of the famous spring at Wiesbaden, which to my palate is wonderfully like the broth in question; but the mineral chicken, however effica- cious otherwise, is not at all nutritious. The water of the hotter springs has a faintly saline odor; the cooler waters sparkle a little in the glass, owing to the free carbonic acid in them. Exposed to the air, they cloud and cast down a brown precipitate. The daily discharge of the Carlsbad springs is something over 100,000 cubic feet, of which the Sprudel supplies two-thirds. But of the Sprudel water only about one-sixth part plays in the fountain. The rest is led away in iron pipes to the bath-houses, or is exported, or used for the distillation of the Carlsbad salts, for which its own heat is made to serve as fuel. It is hot enough, indeed (l66~ F.), to boil eggs, and some of the thrifty housekeep- ers of the neighborhood use the water for cooking purposes. Here is a recent analysis of the three chief springs of Carlsbad, showing their nearly identical composition. Gdttl, ex- perimenting upon a large mass of the Sprudel water, found traces of no less than twenty metals and acids, of which gold even was one. But the drinker of the waters will generally take less account of the ingo than of the outgo of this metal. ANALYSIS BY PROFESSOR LUDWIG, OF VIENNA, 1879. 5) . B i- B 0 B 0 .-)B B,~n ~~5B 10,000 Grams of the water .~g; ~ contain .Ba~ 0a~- ~ BE~ ~E-~5 Grams Grams Grains. Sulphate of soda 24.05 23.91 23.16 Carbonate of soda 12.98 12.79 12.28 Chloride of sodium 10.42 10.23 10.05 Carbonate of lime 3.21 3.27 3.34 Carbonate of magnesia 1.67 1.61 1.61 Sulphate of potash 0.86 1.19 1.93 With very small quantities of other constituents. Total of solid constituents 55.17~ 54.73 53.30 Carbonic acid, half 7.76 7.68 7.49 combined Carbonic acid, free 1.90 5.17 5.82 All of the Carlsbad springs, as I have said, contain substantially the same ele- ments in solution. How are they to be classified among the multitude of other ulineral springs? CARLSBAD WATERS. 119 Many ways of classifying mineral wa- ters, as by their geologic relations, their chemical nature, or their use in therapeu- tics, have been employed by students of the subject. Practically I find the most convenient way is to use a fourfold divi- sion, as follows: 1, acidulous springs; 2, ferruginous springs; 3, saline springs; 4, sulphureous springssubdividing these main classes according to their more par- ticular composition. Of course this is not an accurate scientific classification, for many of the mineral waters contain con- stituents of two or more than two of the above classes. But it is never easy to make perfect classifications, and when made they seldom, if at all complicated, repay the stu- dents trouble. It will be quite enough for the present p~irpose if we put down the Carlsbad waters-under a subdivision of the third class and call them alkaline saline springs. Their leadingj constituent, the sulphate of soda, places them in the group of the so-called Glaubers salt waters, of which in all Europe there are but two other repr~ entatives among warm springs the wate~s, namely, of Stubnya and of Bertrich. The only practical difference between any two of the Carlsbad springs is the difference in temperature and in -the amount of free carbonic acid gas, which increases as the temperature diminishes. We shall see that these are important fac- tors in the choice of the particalar spring that is best suited to the given invalid and to his particular complaint. The following are the names and tem- peratures of the springs nowactually in use: THE CARLSBAD MINERAL SPRINGSNAMES AND TEMPERATURES. R& aumur. Fahrenheitj 1. Sprudel ) 2. Hygeiaquelle 5950 1660 3. New Hygeiaquelle...) - 4. Bernhardsbrunn 530 1510 5. Curha.usquelle 520 1490 6. Neubruon so~ 145~ ~7. Felsenquelle 480 140~ 8. Thercsienbrunn 480 140~ 9. Muhibruirn 450 133~ 10. Schlossbrunn 4350 1300 11 M~rktbrunn 40~ 122~ 12. KRiserbrunn 390 1200 13. EliSRbethquelle 37.6~ 116~ 14. liochbergerquelle 330 106~ 15. Kaiserkarlquclie 310, 102~ 16. Russiche Kronquelle 290 - 9~0 17. Sprudelsijuerling 230 540 - And now, we have to ask: What are these springs good for? What kind of cases do they cure or relieve? In what do they fail? Who should go to Carlsbad, and who stay away? These are searching questions, and they are daily put to the consulting physician. I will answer them according to my own observation and experience, and will pre- sently give a somewhat detailed account of the indications for treatment. But first it will be requisite to describe the waters and the methods of using them, whether internally or externally. Internal use. The Carlsbad waters, aside from their primary quality as so much spring water, have three active principles of their own: 1, their elevated temperature; 2, the contained carbonic acid gas; and 3, the various salts that they hold in solution. 1. The t%mperature exercises a certain amount of influence upon the action of the waters. The warmer springs acceler- ate absorption, gently stimulate the circu- lation of the blood, produce perspiration in some cases, and act as a sedative upon the nervous system. When swallowed slowly, however, as it is best they should be, the purely thermal action of the, wa- ters is -not always marked, as they receive the temperature of the body in that case as soon as they reach the stomach. - 2. The carbonic acid gas acts directly upon the nerves of the stomach. Its ef- fects are to augment the secretion of gas- tric juice, to calm the gastric nerves, and at the same time to strengthen the pen- staltic movements of the stomach and of the intestinal tract. Upon some patients the carbonic gas has a pleasantly exhila- rating effect; in ncarly all it stimulates the appetite and the digestion, and aids the absorption of the mineral water. 3. The effects of the salts contained in the Carlsbad waters are in large part due to the three elements first named in the analysis just giventhe sulphates and carbonates of soda, and the chloride of sodium. They augment the blood cor- puscles, and incrcase the alkalinity of the blood. The waters are antacid par ex- cellence. They correct the too abundant acidity of the intestinal tract, and stimu- late its action; they stimulate, too, the venous and arterial circulation, and act strongly upon the liver, the kidneys, and the lymphatic glands. The sulphate of soda is a mild laxative. The different springs, again, do not pro- duce the same results. The Sprudel wa 120 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. ter, for instance, is absorbed more rapidly than the Schlossbrunnen or other cooler spring; and patients who will not bear stimulation must use the cooler waters, especially those in whom the action of the heart requires to be watched. In gen- eral the first use of the waters produces a sense of physical comfort, with a tenden- cy to moisture of the skin. Four or five glasses produce a mildly laxative effect in most cases, while a quantity not exceed- ing a pint generally has the contrary ef- fect. There are patients who never re- quire more than this smaller quantity for the regulation of the bowels; these are, however, exceptional cases. The waters are taken in the morning as a rule; the usual hours are from 6 to 8 A.M., of course before breakfast, except in the case of del- icate invalids, who may be permitted to breakfast lightly beforehand if necessary, and even to use the waters at home. The custom of the place is to take them dur- ing the morning promenade from spring to spring. The scene is a picturesque one, the more so because at Carlsbad one is far enough eastward in Europe to see Asiatic costumes occasionally among the guests. The long line of promenaders, ever flowing and re- flowing gently under the colonnades of the great Kurhaus or before the dancing fountain of the Sprudel, is one of the sights of Europe; and it has its grotesque element in the circumstance that each and every one of the thousands carries an earthenware mug, hung by a strap around his neck or hersa mug, it must be, not a glass tumbler, as at most other spas, for glass would crack under the too lively heat of the Sprudel water. There is a solemn drollery in the scene. Each promenader in the long line keeps his place in the queue as carefully, at least during the height of the season, when the crowd is large, as if he were waiting his turn at an American ticket office)~ * Amusing incidents occur sometimes. While I was in Carlsbad the town was laughing at a guest from Prague, a Hebrew, whose dress and appearance were regarded as proof that Prague was the dirtiest city in Europe. One morning he found himself in the pensive procession of mug-bearers, but without a mug. The spring was dancing close at hand; it would not do to leave his place in the interminable line. He turned upon the next in order who walked behind him; it chanced to be the Duke of Vallom- brosa. Invalids, be it noted, form a real democ- racy at the Austrian watering-places, where prince and commoner may jostle each other if they will. It is no longer the custom to take large quantities of the water. Since 1870 the usual prescription has been two or three cups per day for the beginner, gradually increasing to eight or ten at the highest. A third of this amount may be taken in the afternoon, unless it should produce a decidedly laxative effect. From time immemorial until the six- teenth century the Carlsbad springs were used only as batbs, and the zealous doctors, in order to make assurance doubly sure, used to steep their patients for the greater part of the day in the bath-tub. Then came the fashion of drinking the waters instead, and the re-action was extreme. The baths were totally disused, and the un- fortunate invalid was sentenced to twenty or thirty glasses per day. Either system was a mistake. Such of the earlier medi- cal records as remainand they go back to the year 1520show that this strenuous treatment, whether internal or external, actually did more harm than good. There is to-day a wise compromise between these extremes. But, curiously enough, a fear of Carlsbad, so named and described by medical writers, survives from thosedays of heroic treatment in the Middle Ages, and it actually deters some patients from a visit to the place. We have said, however, that the internal use of the waters is now pre- scribed with moderation and with discrim- ination, and the treatment of our day em- ploys the bath with equal discrimination and moderation. Nearly every known form of bath may be had at Carlsbad, but I shall speak only of twothe Sprudel or mineral baths, and the mud baths. The Sprudel water, emerging at a tem- perature of 1620 F., is conducted in long iron pipes to the Kurhaus and to other bathing places, where it is cooled to the de- gree required. Tepid, it forms a pleasant- ly sedative bath; warm, it should be used carefully, as a too long immersion some- times produces symptoms of faintness. Fifteen minutes is the usual duration of the bath. It should not be taken soon after a meal. What causes the good effects of the warm Sprudel bath? That is not an easy A drink from your cup, Mein Herr ? It is yours, returns the Italian. He of Prague takes a deep draught from the dukes mug, then turns again to restore it. The Duke of Vallombrosa was gone, doubtless to get another mug. What wasteful- ness !, said he of Prag~ie. CARLSBAD WATERS. 121 question; volumes have been written to no less delightful than strange. Whether answer it, and it is still unsettled. Until for the invalid or the well man the peat- recently it was stoutly contested that the mud baths at 310 R~aumur are one of the mineral constituents of the water were in most luxurious of enjoyments. I took part absorbed by the skin, ~tnd so intro- them as a pleasurable incident of a visit duced into the circulation. Parisot and made for the purposes of special study. other experimenters have shown that this But if I should ever contract to furnish is a mistake. The human skin is imper- an earthly or a Mohammedan paradise, I vious to water, mineral or other, as one should fit up the entire basement story of would suppose, indeed, that any serviceable the paradise with mud baths. hide of man or beast should be. The medi- It should be added that the peat mud is cinal virtues of the waters are not absorbed. not sticky, but falls off easily on leaving Whether their beneficent effects are due to the bath, and an attendant will help you, an impression upon the cuticular nerves if desired, to remove its last traces in the or to some other cause is still an open tub of warm water that stands by your question; but centuries of experience have side. shown that they do sick people good. But who shall bathe? Most of the vis- There is at any rate no doubt that people itors use the baths, and yet their fitness to get better, or get well, after using them any individual case can only be decided properly, which I take to be the desirable by the physician. Warm baths are for point in any treatment. some persons dangerous: for whom, the The peat baths, or mud baths, have patient can not himself decide beforehand~ gained much in popularity within a few When prescribed they are generally taken years, and a large building has been erect- three or four times a week; a daily bath ed, since 1880, devoted exclusively to this is for the majority of visitors too much. singular form of the cure. The material The forenoon is the best time for bathing; employed for the mud bath is a rich black the Carlsbad breakfast being at about peat; it comes by rail from the neighbor- nine oclock, the bath may be taken to- ing watering-place of Franzensbad, some ward noon, or, if more convenient, in the two hours distant, where Carlsbad owns a afternoon, when the digestion of the din- tract of moorland which supplies the peat. ner is fully completed. It is rich in mineral constituents, and it The usual temperatures of the mineral- makes what may be called a clean mud. water baths range from SO~ to 960 F.; of First pulverized, but not too finely, then the peat baths from 9g0 to iOo~. In these screened and freed from accidental im- a higher temperature is borne than in purities, it is mixed with the hot Spru- the water baths. The vapor baths range del water when the bath is ordered, and from iOo~ to 130~. A careful manage- rolled in a stout wooden tub to the bath- ment provides every bath with a ther- room, where it stands fuming by the side mometer, and the visitor should observe of a similar tub filled with warm soft wa- for himself that the bath is heated to the ter. Ones first mud bath is an odd expe- exact degree prescribed. Do not bathe rience. I confess having felt a slight re- immediately after severe physical exer- luctance to immerse myself in this malebol- cise or strong mental excitement. Dur- gian mass of peat mud, although it fumed ing the bath gentle frictions of any ailing not unfragrantly, and its temperature, 1020 parts should be made, as of the region of F., was delightful. It seemed likeundoing the spleen or liver, and of inflamed or the results of a lifetimes ablutions. The stiffened joints. Should any giddiness difficulty is to get your first foot into it; occur, leave the bath at once and call the that done there is no more hesitation; you attendant. After the bath, a nap at home sink luxuriously into the warm fuming is often very refreshing. mass. Mortal body was never received I will now turn to the more particular into a more deliciously soft embrace than consideration of the ailments that are that of this semi-fluid peat. Its viscous specially amenable to treatment at Carls- resistance to my movements, its weight bad. No written description either of and warmth, the clinging titillation of the cases or of treatment can indeed take the unresolved lumps of mould, its faint fra- place of proper advice for the particular grant earthy odor, all combined to make case, for each patient has his peculiarities a strange experience even for one who has of temperament, his idiosyncrasy; and it tried many baths in many places. It was must always remain the responsible task 122 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. of the specially qualified physician to de- cide according to the need of the individ- ual suffererto say to one, according to his need, Go to Carlsbad; to another, Go to Mont Dore, or Salins, or Luxeuil, or Franzensbad. To prescribe a spring is like the right direction of any other serious medical treatment it can only be done rightly by the physician who has thorough experience in balneology. Premising this much by way of caution, I will note such indications of treatment as may, I trust, be not without use to lay and medical readers as pointing the way to a quarter where relief may be fairly expected by many patients, and for not a small number of different ailments. The main object of this paper is to describe what a medical friend of mine, himself an author of an excellent monograph upon the Carlsbad waters, has called the ra- tionally sustained indications for treat- ment at the most effective springs of Ger- man-speaking Europe. The foremost class of indications for treatment at Carlsbad is for the relief or cure of abdominal complaints, and espe- cially disorders of the stomach, liver, and spleen. 1. For dyspepsia in its various forms. This disease is a common one in America, and many of my readers will be very fa- miliar with its symptoms. Dyspepsia is itself, indeed, but a symptom, or a group of symptoms; and of what ailment? Atony, or weakness of the stomach, flat- ulence, indigestion, fatigue, mental preoc- cupation or excitement, may all cause dys- pepsia more or less permanent. But true chronic dyspepsia means one thing only, and a serious thingit means chronic ca- tarrh of the stomach. This is a painful sentence to pass on an invalid. Catarrh of the stomach may result from opposite causes, either from eating too many great and good dinners, and so overtaxing the digestion and finally ruining it, or, on the other hand, from too hasty eating, or from indigestible or innutritious food. The first- mentioned kind of dyspepsia, the dyspep- sia of gluttony, does not very often occur as yet in America, because we are not heavy eaters as a rule. But as our for- tunes, our leisure, and our cooks improve, we too are developing a few choice glut- tonsto me an interesting class of men, because they are still rare among us. They are developed from the gourmand, a most genial and amiable character often: give me a discriminating gourmand for a com- panion. The gourmand is he who has a refined enjoyment of the taste and flavor of food, and who therefore eats appreci- atively. When he begins to eat too much, then he becomes a glutton, and sooner or later he will probably suffer from dyspepsia. But it is hasty eating rather than excessive and badly cooked or otherwise indigestible food that is re- sponsible for most of the dyspepsia in a community. The human stomach will endure a good deal of maltreatment, at least in a person whose constitution is strong. But when the maltreatment goes too far, either in the way of too much food or too little, or food of bad quality, or food too hastily or irregularly eaten, the penalty is not far off. It is dyspepsia. In our day the stomach is not a cause of envy to the members, as it was in the sim- pler time of Al~sop. The modern stom- ach mutinies against the members; and it avenges itself with Alectos scourge, more scientifically describable as chronic gas- tric catarrh. I need hardly enumerate its too gener- ally known symptoms: the lessened or extinguished appetite, the distress after eating, the fevered tongue and mawkish taste in the mouth, the eructation and nau- sea, the broken strength and sleep, with profound depression of the spirits. They constitute one of the most distressing of ail- ments, and one of the most difficult to re- lieve by ordinary medication. Dyspepsia is adapted to treatment by a properly chosen alkaline saline spring; by which spring, at Carlsbad or else- where, the physician must decide. I have seen too many instances of speedy bene- fit from their use to doubt the healing power of the waters in cases of this de- scription; but strict care is necessary in following the ordained regimen and hy- gienic directions. Of these, which are of the utmost importance in the treatment of chronic cases, I will speak presently. Even when the gastric catarrh has ex- tended, as sometimes happens, into the duodenum or the biliary ducts, so that jaundice supervenes, the Carlsbad waters often give relief or cure. Another form of dyspepsia occurs in pale amemic persons, as in young women who suffer from chlorosis. There are tenderness and pain in the epigastrium, aversion to food, weariness of the whole muscular system, and palpitations occur CARLSBAD WATERS. 123 on making the least effort. My friend Dr. Griinberger, of Carlsbad, gives a live- ly description of the contrasted sufferers who seek relief at the springs. To the pale miss who answers to the above de- scription her companion at Carlsbad of- fers a striking contrast. He is well-nour- ished; his rubicund face declares that he knows the delights of dining, and that he takes frequent pleasure in champagne wine, in sherry, and in brandy. When you remark his absence for two or three days at a time from the morning prome- nade around the springs, you may be sure that the gout, in addition to dyspepsia, has him in keeping; he suffers acutely from effusion into one or more of the principal joints, and plenty of uric acid is to be found in the deranged secretions. In spite of the waters, all seems to be going wrong. But after a cure continued through a few weeks the sharp contrast between the condition of the two invalids is wonderfully lessened. The gale miss is invigorated, her appetite increases, she has gained in weight; while the gouty effu- sion of her companion is gone, his step is firm and sure again, the dyspeptic symp- toms are relieved, and the action of the di- gestive system has again become normal. Persons, however, who have been accus- tomed to an overgenerous diet are apt, on leaving the springs, to resume their old habits, and so to regain their obesity. 2. Dilatation of the stomach not infre- quently accompanies the form of dyspep- sia that results from gross eating. This, when far advanced, is hardly amenable to a complete cure; but the organ should be cleansed daily by the Carlsbad waters, introduced and withdrawn through a stomach - pump; and in milder cases a complete cure may be expected. * 3. Chronic constipation and chronic diarrhcea are both cured at Carlsbad, and often, indeed, cured by the use of the same spring. Among the more frequent causes of the former complaint are neg- lect, a too sedentary life, the abuse of pur- gatives, and a diet in which too little use is made of fluid food. It is a national fault of our American dietary that we do not eat enough soup. And if, in addi- tion, beer or well-diluted red wine could be substituted for the stronger liquors that are so much in vogue among us, the * See Dr. I. Krauss excellent little manual, Cans- bad: its Tlier 1 Springs. health of our community would be bet- ter. The leading symptoms of chronic con- stipation are a feeling of oppression in the abdominal regions, headache, and palpita- tion of the heartoften mistaken by the sufferer for cardiac disease. A single sea- son of appropriate treatment by the min- eral waters, with proper hygienic and di- etary care, will often cure cases of long standing, and especially that form of the disorder which prevails among sedentary persons and women, and which is due to intestinal torpor rather than to any me- chanical or physical obstruction. It may seem strange that a given min- eral spring should cure ailments of such directly opposite character as the two just mentioned. Yet the fact remains, and the explanation is not a difficult one. The Carlsbad waters have but little effect upon the digestive organs of a healthy person. But when they come in contact with an in- flamed or excoriated mucous surface, they heal it, and so check a diarrho~a; while a weak peristaltic motion of the intestine is strengthened by the same water, a slug- gish secretion is stimulated, and thus the mechanical and the sedentary causes of constipation are removed. 4. Diarrhcna presents itself under two chief formsirritative and eliminative. Of the first, the summer diarrhea, caused by eating unripe fruit, is a familiar exam- ple; it is cured by removing the cause, and generally speedily. The second form is far more various and complicated in its causes, and it is correspondingly diffi- cult to manage, and it includes the mul- titude of cases that are sent to foreign springs for treatment. The chronic cases are most frequently the result of a chron- ic intestinal catarrh; this depends upon a morbid condition of the intestinal tube and of its secretions, and often proves amenable to treatment at Carlsbad. 5. Diseases of the liver and biliary ducts, enlargements of the liver of various kinds, are treated with marked success at Carls- bad, especially those which come from long residence in hot climates. One of the most interesting cases I ever saw was that of an army officer who had stood out thirty-five summers in India, but who had finally succumbed to the climate; his liv- er, as he expressed it, putting his hand at the level of the umbilicus, came down to here. After a treatment of five weeks the gland had recovered its normal pro- 124 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. portions, and health was restored. But to prevent relapses this gentleman makes a visit every summer to Carlsbad and Marienbad, finishing the cure at a miner- al spring in France or Switzerland. Fatty liver not unfrequently exists for years before the patient takes much notice of it, the disease becoming chronic and gaining slowly until it is beyond relief by mineral waters or in any other way. But when it occurs in persons otherwise healthy, and as the result of too good liv- ing or of drinking, it is curable by a saline or alkaline water. The symptoms are weight and tension in the region of the stomach, with derangement of the diges- tion and breathing. There is no pain. Cirrhosis of the liver can only be benefit- ed in its earlier stages at Carlsbad. Congestion of the liver, unless it is pas- sive, i. e., caused by constipation and other functional disorders of the viscera, makes itself known by the sensitiveness of the organ to the touch, and by its enlarge- ment, especially in the left lobe. If long- continued, structural derangement of the organ may follow. Treatment in the early stages is necessary. The Carlsbad waters will restore the deranged functions of an organ; but they will not repair the structural lesions of the organ itself. Jaundice is a symptom, not itself a dis- ease; it is due to the absorption of the col- oring matter of the bile and its circulation with the blood. Whatever hinders the discharge of the bile into the intestine will cause jaundice: the narrowing of the bile ducts will do this; mechanical press- ure upon them will do this; the inflam- mation of their lining membrane will do this. Whether the symptoms are those of chronic inflammation in the liver or the duodenum, or are caused by any other interruption to the flow of the bile, or whether, on the other hand, they are due, as not unfrequently happens, to some strong nervous perturbation, which may equally derange the flow of the bile with- out leaving the traces of any pathological alteration, the Carlsbad waters are an effective curative agent. Resident physi- cians employ them also to check the ex- cessive secretion of bile, termed poly- cholia, which sometimes constitutes a malady in itself. Gall-stones are deposited from certain elements of the bile. These concretions are very solid, and there is no proof or even presumption that they are dissolved by the direct action of any mineral spring. Dr. Kraus has repeatedly, and for some considerable time, exposed gall-stones to the action of hot Sprudel water (1670 F.) without noticing any changes whatever (Carlsbad: its Thermal Springs). But he adds: The possibility of the bile itself acting destructively on the concretions, after becoming alkaline to a certain ex- tent, can not be denied altogether. It is certain, at least, that we frequently meet with corroded concretions in a porous state, and sometimes even crumbled to pieces, in patients who have been drink- ing the waters for a considerable time. It may safely be asserted that their elimina- tion is caused by the mechanical action of the waters. Their usefulness is shown by the thinner and normal condition of the bile during their use, by which the forma- tion of fresh concretions is prevented. He describes a singular case, that of a lady who came to Carlsbad with symptoms of malignant disease of the pancreas. Sev- eral physicians considered the case as hopeless, and Dr. Kraus admits that he himself was one of them; but he pre- scribed six glasses daily of the Sprudel water for four weeks. At the end of that period the patient left Carlsbad apparent- ly worse than when she arrived, and suf- fering the most agonizing pain. This continued for several weeks longer, when a copious discharge of gall - stones took place, and the sufferer was restored to health from the brink of the grave. Post, ergo propter, is a fallacy against which the physician must be especially watchful. Treatment is given a cure follows. Did the treatment produce the cure? Not always; and yet in cases like the above it is difficult to avoid the con- clusion that the Carlsbad waters hastened, if they did not determine, the favorable result. 6. Enlargement of the spleen is a disor- der well known in our Western country, and wherever intermittent fever prevails. The gland may increase to ten times its natural size, producing a conspicuous ab- dominal tumor upon the left side. A similar enlargement, though not so great, appears not infrequently as a sequel of ty- phoid fever. In the malarious form of the disorder there is a serious diminution of the red corpuscles of