title: Scribblings and sketches, diplomatic, piscatory, and oceanic.
text: PS 3157 .W354 S3 1844 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS '^Cr 9> Ap V ^ V *VSlEV. ^ A^ * * C G vP -• * J? ^ • O '.'.»* ,6* * y ■* 'A* \. r ■v a '<>.** «G c> '' o- -4.^ i-_ l J^. ^ C 0 ^ °o ’, ^ o' ® ^ 9<v A <^y/ii)3r > - ^ ^ ?' v -..tp* °o **Jf;»** 4 p 9 V v *..o . *^ V * 1 Z* 6V iV •>•**.*♦ ** 4$V .«, *£> A* *J&WSh^ + ° 9 k ’ A& f cr 4 0 " • :. ^d» •■ * ><lP O \* ... V ••'*’■ / °- . „ r % **•>’•’ *° «♦> »<•«.. C\ a0 V • •V'* *> '1 s " 9 ' 0 % ^ » yQKv . ts. a- ' ,vVa‘” ’V d °. >r r^Hilt: *«? ?mmk\ ^ o aV»*> - *v * G v '' - 0 o * O «^ . *. > a . *<£. f* ^L. A 0 $9 ^ °* <j5 ^ o’ 5 %. A* cj.. >. *■.*’ .V’ • « ’ \ > /°- *. P* o_ * ,G </> : * <£> ^ •4 ^t, V V 0» - "Wt//cg«r « a g v A <.. v.*;* .0 / .<^1* °o A t C^. *•#> / .v^aV; -f oV i> ^o* 0 " 9 * 4? ^ °o ^. y..., v % • ■»°\/ *• ^ £ :W&' ^ # 1 '■% c ^^T‘’ A" G* \^W'' A °-> t • v ' * -» ,(y 0 0 " 0 ♦ ^b «4r . t»» ^ <N f\pv7^V' r rjr v * ^vvTVrJk*'.. O J*®’ >“ X V v ^ ; * *• ^ *♦ /. - v^ v v V^V X'-:-..- .■> V »*••* <0 .vV/«, *> L° c£ * 1 y f /\ -ISK* ** v % ** ‘ o^ %'**’> .w., I X? S* «r ^ o« ^ 0 « • r* .<$. * A v « * <X> 'Cn f" * 4/ ^ • O o-*^ ,6* ^ * * -•••., *e W ’V'*-^"' <«* i o Vv <\ * • • • , ^ aV ♦ L/,_' 4 * ^ A^ A A. * : a o, • *p. i L° cy * > ^ ••-•V 3° rr* a ® o ;* ^ <<> ° / ^ ^ ° d A <^ * O' \5 V?Vi* A. <. * ^ c° °o J? ^ •'MS®*- ’’W "bf v »:* : v\ v • n*' <** * .0^ .-VO ‘..o' r. <w*. VV • * A't'rs •* V <K ■ *o * *"’* *° ^ ‘ , ‘^ 0 °* * *» o^ <y % % •' v A v , t • o, *o ,9 ;• V ^ ^ *>Wa° % £ ' l » '**<? %■<& -sSM VA° • o * ;* <y ^ ’ • aV^> V \* <V <* 0 4k k :&mk2* * r * o' ° k o- * ^ ^ • ^oV 3 ,' ^ ‘ • <x> 0_ * L% ^> \ v *v^ "' * ^ # . w - ^ a v > - T • o^ O «0 * */ (W % V V F • r. ^ ^ »’ vv * * f. aP’ \ k ° /v ♦ 4 O ^ aV J vP<b* * v 9oi • ,.* a^'x °WMW' <x"\ '• o v ^ *‘T?T‘ a <, '...• «o v X> r<y 0 • ,* ^ n* «' SCRIBBLINGS AND SKETCHES, DIPLOMATIC, PISCATORY, AND OCEANIC. A FISHER IN SMALL STREAMS. SECOND EDITION, WITH ADDITIONS. WstniOUgh, £ Ca/VvvVOcJ PHILADELPHIA: C. SHERMAN, PRINTER, 19 ST. JAMES STREET. T$3i5 r i: .Vtas4“S3 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1844, BY C. SHERMAN, in the Clerk’s Office of the District Court for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. 4 HIS MOST CELESTIAL MAJESTY KIANG-FOO, EMPEROR OF CHINA, AND BROTHER TO THE SUN AND MOON. Deeply sensible of the favours it has pleased your Celestial Majesty at divers and sundry times to bestow, and grateful for the distinguished facilities afforded me in the early publication of some of your mighty procla¬ mations—with all respect, I dedicate the following pages to your Imperial Majesty. I do so, with a belief, that your Serenity will not only be amused by them at your autumnal palace of Yuen- min-Yuen, upon the banks of the sparkling Taie-ho; but that they will give your Majesty some insight into the mysteries of barbaric diplomacy, which, it has pleased your Majesty privately to inform me, owing to some late incidents, you were anxious to comprehend. Amongst so many sovereigns, to be selected by your » Imperial Majesty as worthy of your confidence, I esteem a most signal mark of favour; and with no disposition to overrate my literary effusions, yet I feel confident your Majesty will derive quite as much instruction, if not more, than any other reader from my little volume. iv DEDICATION. If it should please vour Celestial Highness to be fond of fishing, the letters of Isaac Walton, Jr., are most particularly recommended to your notice. They pre¬ tend to no literary merit, but are the effusions of a plain man, in character with his life and the primitive simplicity of his peaceful sport. The immortal Confucius has declared, that Hong-hse chulan-tee to war ti bung, Con owhar spung ti nittle colee tung. “ Patience and perseverance are cardinal virtues, and without which, man cannot hope for success in life.” Isaac affords some striking and practical illustrations of the truth of the precept, which may be useful to your sedentary subjects, and perhaps salutary in their effects upon those of a more roving and unquiet disposition. Seldom aspiring beyond a glorious nibble, his perse¬ verance has been rewarded in having caught the atten¬ tion of an emperor. “ To catch a Tartar,” has not heretofore been esteemed a desirable event or one to boast of; but we apprehend the world will concede the present instance to be a brilliant exception. The immeasurable distance between your Majesty’s golden throne, and the “ Fisher in Small Streams,” affords him but a telescopic view of your magnificence, warmed, however, and cherished by those mitigated DEDICATION. V beams into an ephemeral and fluttering existence with¬ out the danger of being singed by the intolerable efful¬ gence. It is, therefore, a subject more for congratula¬ tion than regret; though prevented the honour of per¬ sonally bumping his head at your Imperial footstool according to the ceremony of the Ko-leou. A ceremony founded upon principles of the profoundest wisdom, and which should be strictly enforced upon every candi¬ date for literary favour, more especially in my country, where the brain is supposed to be the seat of intelligence, and the capability of the author might quickly be ascer¬ tained by the peculiar sound of his skull when perform¬ ing these prostrations. The Chinese theory, however, that the stomach is the seat of the soul, is plausible, more especially as most of our distinguished literary men have no stomachs to brag of, wasted perhaps by their untiring exertions. With the passing remark, that amongst Barbarians there is a sort of abstract Kiang- Foo, called public opinion, at which authors great and small must all bow, and before which the subscriber prostrates himself with great humility for want of a better, he remains with high consideration and respect, your Majesty’s friend, co-sovereign and servant. A Fisher in Small Streams. PREFACE. It will be perceived that I have dedicated this little work to the Emperor of China,—and in selecting that distinguished individual, I have been impelled by many wise and discreet considerations. Some may possibly deem the selection an ostentatious one, a wish upon my part to publish to the world my intimacy and friendship with that august personage. But I most unequivocally deny any such motives. The Emperor has been in¬ formed that we are a community of sovereigns, that a private station is the post of honour, and that we hire individuals to perform subordinate stations, such as Presidents, Secretaries, and the like, with the privilege of abusing them. He therefore, has been pleased to consider me upon an equality with him in every respect r having first assured him, not only that I held no office, but had no expectation of receiving one. It has also, I am sorry to say, been intimated that I am actuated by mercenary motives, with an eye to a cumshaw ©repre¬ sent from the Emperor, for the honour done him. The cumshaw system is not a bad one, but I disclaim any Vlll PREFACE. such intentions. Though if the Emperor were to send me a very handsome present, in the shape of tea, silks, or even crockery, I frankly confess I should feel myself bound to accept it. But literary men so seldom receive any thing but hard rubs, that I am afraid these declara¬ tions are very idle and superfluous. Indeed, gentle reader, I am perfectly content to receive no other re¬ ward for my humble labours, than your attention, and your good-will. The Author. SKETCHES. A FORTUNE FOUNDED ON A HURRICANE. “ To ride the cloud-aspiring waves, And hear amid the rending tackle’s roar The spirit of an equinoctial gale.” Tobin. “ The dreadful spout Which shipmen do the Hurricano call, Constring’d in mass by th’ almighty sun, Dizzies with clamour Neptune’s watery ear.” Shakspeare. The town of Trinidad, upon the south side of the island of Cuba, presents a very picturesque appearance from the sea. The dark blue mountains of St. Juan, rising to the height of three thousand feet, form the back¬ ground of the picture, throwing the town into fine relief with its white walls and turrets. At a distance, it appears like a white blur upon the mountain-side. In any other region than the tropics it might, at first glance, be mistaken for a drift of snow, or a cloud resting upon the dark mountain’s side, but the one is as impossible as the other, for, during the dry season, from October till April, not even a wreath of mist floats in the pure ether by day, or dims the brilliancy of the spangled blue of night. Gradually from this white obscure are shadowed 2 10 A FORTUNE FOUNDED ON A HURRICANE. forth, in faint outlines, turrets and cupolas, at every step becoming more distinct, till at last the miniature houses with little dots for windows, stand forth brightly in the glare of a mid-day sun. The ground between the sea shore and the town is barren and sandy, covered with brushwood, with here and there a clump of palms and the umbrageous mango, broken into lagoons, or pools of salt water, near the shore, which at a distance have a pleasing effect, but upon inspection, the delusion quickly vanishes. These pretty lakes are in reality nothing but salt bogs, tenanted by the land crab; the shores furrowed by the sand grub; and haunted by myriads of musquitoes. The harbour, with its little port of Casilda, is formed by a thin strip of land, about two miles in length and densely covered with mangrove bushes. At the extre¬ mity of the point, or entrance to the harbour, is erected a small fort, which is apt to be submerged during a hurricane, and is never garrisoned by more than half a dozen soldiers. Between this fort and Cayo Blanco, a small island, is a narrow and intricate passage, through which can pass vessels only of a light draught. With this bird’s eye view of the town and harbour, we will proceed with our narrative. In the latter part of the month of September of the year 180-, some forty or fifty of the merchants and planters of Trinidad were collected together at the head of Calle de Gutierez, discussing the various topics of the day, in which the probable rise and fall of the prices of sugar and molasses were decidedly the most interesting. Amongst this group, were the keen-looking Catalonian, the blunt Biscayan, and vivacious Andalusian—emi¬ grants from the mother country, in the pursuit of wealth. A FORTUNE FOUNDED ON A HURRICANE. II The joke was bandied about in that boisterous vein so peculiar to the Spaniard, interrupted occasionally by the presence of a passing signorita with flowing mantilla, when compliments would fall freely from the lips of all. Far from being offended, the lady appeared to consider it a just tribute to her personal charms—and reply with great gravity, muchisimas gracias, Caballeros —and pass on, with the grace and dignity of a queen. A Montero, upon a high-mettled pacer, darted up to the door, and saluted the group with that natural air of polite respect from which a true Spaniard never departs. “ Senores , Caballeros ; dios guard ustedes.” “ Gentle¬ men, God be with you—what do you think of the weather V 1 “ It looks bad enough,” replied one; “we shall have it tough and strong—the mountain passes are dark as night, with heavy clouds.” “ Yes,” said another, “ and the sea moans, and heaves upon Cayo Blanco in a way that forebodes a hurricane.” The sea did present a strange and unnatural appear¬ ance, covered—almost obscured—by masses of vapour rolling over the surface. The atmosphere was so per¬ fectly calm that the flame of a candle burnt as steadily in the open air as if enclosed within a crystal vase. All were now busy speculating upon the indications of the heavens with the exception of one; to whom calms and storms apparently were alike indifferent. Seated upon the counter, with abstracted air and folded arms, kicking his heels against the boards: there was an air of recklessness about the youth that plainly told his fortune to be desperate, and that he was at that 12 A FORTUNE FOUNDED ON A HURRICANE. very moment turning over in his mind the probable chances of success for a dinner, already having failed in procuring a breakfast. The light blue eye, fair hair, and ruddy complexion disclosed at a glance his Anglo-Saxon blood; and as he gazed at the dark-eyed sun-burnt fea¬ tures that surrounded him, there was an expression which seemed to say—“ Let it blow the whole island over to Africa for aught I care: 1 have neither kith nor kin here, and am as penniless as a Spanish beggar.” Some¬ thing out of the common order of events appeared to animate the group; some were collected together apart, in earnest conversation; others were mounting horses and scampering off to the Casilda, whilst a party upon the house-top were gazing through spy-glasses at the sea. The youth, before described, inquired of an indi¬ vidual who had just come down, and who closed his glass with a snap that shattered the instrument, exclaim¬ ing at the same time, “ Caraho, she’s gone!”— “What is the matter, Senor? there seems to be a screw out of place somewhere: what is it V 9 “Why, Senor Americano, mio, there is a barque outside there, in which we are all interested—a good half million of freight,—that is likely to be swamped by this infernal hurricane, or nabbed by John Bull, that’s all.” The youth spoken to, mounted the steps and was quickly upon the parapet. Almost all the houses of Trinidad are constructed with flat roofs, with a parapet about three feet high, for the purpose of catching rain water during the wet season. Upon reaching the parapet, he was astonished at the sudden change from a breathless calm to a furious gale A FORTUNE FOUNDED ON A HURRICANE. 13 with every premonition of one of those terrible hurri¬ canes that sometimes, in a single hour, lay waste whole districts. The inhabitants were hurrying to shelter in the greatest trepidation, closing their shops and barri¬ cading their doors and windows—the streets were already strewed with fragments of roofs and broken tiles torn from their fastenings by the first fury of the blast. The vultures, those licensed scavengers of every West India town, at all hours of the day, skimming over the tops of houses, or soaring to a great height in gigantic circles, were now crouching beneath the parapets, and the atmosphere was filled with flocks of screaming sea gulls, driven from their habitations upon the coasts and numerous islands, by the irresistible fury of the wind. A drift, like smoke, rolled over the ocean and spread across the land to the foot of the mountain. At intervals, the surface of the sea, to the utmost limits of the wide extended horizon, was distinctly visible, lashed into a foam, and whirled aloft in wreaths of spray from the tops of the curling waves. Two vessels were distinctly seen, scudding before the wind under close-reefed topsails. Onward they both came with the speed of race-horses, the one further sea¬ ward, from the cut of her canvass and squareness of yards, evidently a man-of-war, in full chase. As she rose upon a swell, her long dark hull and line of ports were visible; from the bow at the same moment issued a volume of smoke, which as suddenly was swept away by the wind, and mingled with the floating spray and haze, and ere the sound of the cannon had reached the shores, (in low, suppressed murmurs,) the Spanish barque had rounded Cayo Blanco, dropped her anchors, and 14 A FORTUNE FOUNDED ON A HURRICANE. swung round to the wind. The man-of-war came dashing in after, under bare poles, her close-reefed foresail but a few moments before having been blown clean out of the bolt-ropes, and whirled off to leeward, twisting and twirling .about until it was lost in the haze that covered every thing with an impenetrable veil; but ere the two vessels were closed from view, it was evident that the man-of-war had passed close under the stern of the slaver, and was riding upon the swell with four anchors ahead. The gale now had increased almost to a hurricane. It was with difficulty the youth could maintain his posi¬ tion upon the parapet; he therefore went down to the store and mingled with the anxious group collected there. It was conceded by all, that the Esperanto, for such was the name of the slaver, was a gone case. If she rode out the gale, which was very improbable, the Stag, a well-known British cruiser, would certainly capture her; and if the hurricane increased, as there was every like¬ lihood, both vessels must be wrecked, with the chance of all hands perishing. One said, he would sell his interest for fifty ounces ;* another, for five hundred: all appearing to think the chances so perfectly desperate, as scarcely worth an hour’s purchase. The hero of our story listened to every thing with the deepest interest; at last he stepped boldly up to one of the gentlemen and said : “ Come, sir, what did you say you would take for your .interest in that ship V 9 “ I’ll take five hundred ounces, and that’s selling what, * An ounce, or gold doubloon, about sixteen dollars. A FORTUNE FOUNDED ON A HURRICANE. 15 if all had gone right, would fetch at the Baracoon this day, fifty thousand dollars.” “ Yes,” replied the stranger, “ but she will never come ashore except in pieces. Look at that!—there goes the roof off of Don Vincente’s house, as clean as a whistle. The hurricane is up—it will tear that ship to pieces in less than an hour. I’ll give you one hundred ounces for your share, and take my chance.” “ Paga! it’s a bargain !” cried the Spaniard. “ John Bull has got her, I believe, already. La Esperanza must have drifted down upon him ere this.” Seven or eight shares were purchased upon the spot, and a bargain made with the others,—who appeared to view our friend in no other light than a madman,—that if he saved the ship and cargo, he was to receive twenty- five per cent, upon the gross amount. No sooner was the negotiation concluded, and the writings, which were hastily drawn, safely deposited in his pocket, than he bounded forth into the storm, with a cry of “ A dios senores!” and was lost in the gloom which shrouded every thing without. Onward he dashed, reckless of the thousand dangers that threatened to annihilate him at every step, from showers of tiles and broken parapets hurled at his feet by the wind, which, though not yet at its height, was howl¬ ing above his head with great fury, occasionally licking up the dust and pebbles in whirling eddies, and then spattering it into his face with such force, as not only to blind, but for a time to cause him to reel and stagger. A brave man might well have cowered beneath that blast—but our youth, with a spirit of the highest order, and a consciousness of his own merits, had felt, deeply 16 A FORTUNE FOUNDED ON A HURRICANE. felt, the pangs of a crushing poverty. Here was a chance—a terrible one, to be sure; if he failed, it would be death in the excitement of battle; if he succeeded, a double reward awaited him,—a magnificent fortune, and the preservation of the lives of a thousand helpless beings. Upon emerging from the town, the road lay before him in almost a straight line, for three miles, to the little village of Casilda. From this point, on a clear day, the eye can embrace a view of two hundred miles of sea, from north to south; but now, the road upon which he was ploughing his way, was scarcely discernible twenty yards ahead. Onward he laboured, occasionally, when the blast with uncommon fury swept across his path, seeking a temporary shelter beneath the hedges formed by the prickly pear and wild pine apple—beneath whose interwoven branches clattered thousands of land-crabs, on their way to the sea from the mountains. An army of these creatures crossed his path; regardless of the countless uplifted hands from this strange multitude, he crashed through the array, kicking from his feet some half dozen, that had fastened upon his legs with their long pincering claws. The sea was swollen far beyond its natural bounda¬ ries. The streets of the village were overflowed, and where, but a few hours before, the gay volante had whirled up the dust upon a sandy road, now were covered with boats adrift, floating logs, casks and mer¬ chandise of every description. Every minute marked a sensible increase of the power of the wind; occasionally, vast bodies of water were A FORTUNE FOUNDED ON A HURRICANE. 17 scooped up by the mighty hand of the tempest and crushed into vapour, or fell far from where they had been torn, in showers of brine. The foam of the sea floated over head like flakes of snow. The incessant roll of tropical thunder, heaven’s heaviest artillery, reverbe¬ rated from the mountain’s base, and was mingled with the roar of the wind and surf, which pealed upon the shores of the neighbouring islands, occasionally flashing up through the thick haze, pyramids of foam and spray. After wading and floundering through ponds of water, under the lee of a large store, he encountered a fisher¬ man by the name of Antonio, a hardy fellow, one of the best pilots of the port. To him he immediately made known his intention, and offered him a thousand dollars if he would accompany him with his boat on board the slaver. “Why, Senor,” said Antonio, “you must be mad. We should be swamped, for a dead certainty ; and what good could we do, suppose we reached her V 9 “I’ll make your fortune!” was the prompt reply. “ Does she still hold on ?” “ Si, Senor.” “ And how’s the cruiser ?” “ Oh, tight enough—with four anchors out—two chain cables. She’ll founder at her anchors, if this gale in¬ creases.” “ We can paddle under the lee of the mangrove bushes of the strip of land over the other side of the harbour, till we come to the fort, then before the wind, you pull¬ ing, I bailing, in three minutes we can fetch the slaver; once on board I’ll show you we can save her.” Still Antonio doubted, wavered ; all the eloquence of 18 A FORTUNE FOUNDED ON A HURRICANE. argument, and stout assurances, with scorn of danger, appeared not in the least to stagger his determination to decline the perilous adventure. “ Lend me your boat, then. By Heaven ! I’ll go alone ; and when I meet you to-morrow, with five thousand Spanish doubloons in my chest, you’ll curse yourself for not having had the courage to follow.” “ Stop one moment. How much say you V* At that instant a crash of thunder made the earth tremble beneath their feet, accompanied by a flash that pierced through the gloom, illuminating every object with a lurid glare, the foam flakes sailing through the air like myriads of floating brands of fire; at the same instant a transient glance was caught of the two vessels, reeling and plunging at their anchors. “ Two thousand doubloons 1” cried the indomitable stranger, in a voice clear as a trumpet, every word dis¬ tinctly heard by Antonio, above the roar of the elements. “ Agreed—come on !” and they jumped into the boat, Antonio exclaiming at the same time, “ Another such a clap of thunder as that, and good-bye hurricane.”* After great difficulty, and the escape from many dreadful blasts, they succeeded in reaching the opposite shore; but the sea made a clear breach across the strip of land, and though broken by the mangrove bushes, yet the surge rolled over into the harbour with terrible force. The boat was light, and pulled by vigorous and skilful hands ; in a short time they reached the deserted fort, under the lee of which they rested for a few moments, and braced their nerves for the great struggle, when they * The invariable indication of a clearing off. A FORTUNE FOUNDED ON A HURRICANE. 19 should be exposed to the full fury of the wind and waves, the frail bark being as yet protected by the land under which they had for an hour laboured their perilous pas¬ sage. Antonio ejaculated a short prayer, crossed him¬ self very devoutly some half dozen times, then seizing the oars, cried out— “Here goes. We can’t miss her. She lies dead to leeward of that reef.” The boat shot forth from her cover, and was imme¬ diately whirled round by the wind, one of the oars escaping from his hand; it was caught in a minute by his companion, ere the rower had time to utter the cry of terror the accident occasioned. The sea was like a turbulent field of snow; the spray flew past them with terrible velocity—a single wave, ere it could lift its head on high, was cut off into foam, and mist and smoke; with the speed of an arrow shot from a bow, did they skim and gurr through the water. When the American cried out, “ Starboard oar—hard a star¬ board,” it was promptly obeyed, and the bark swirled round the stern of the slaver, and as she touched her dark hull, the adventurers seized the mizen chains', and in less time than we have taken to describe it, were safely upon the deck : the boat being swamped beneath the gun¬ wales of the ship as she rolled to leeward. The storm was now at its height—the captain was upon his knees crossing himself, and crying out to that God for mercy, whose divine precepts he had forgotten, when he entered into the dreadful traffic of his fellow- men. At every plunge of the vessel, the water poured over her bows and deluged the decks. From the bosom of 20 A FORTUNE FOUNDED ON A HURRICANE. the labouring craft issued a yell of mingled agony and terror, from eight hundred souls confined below, which mingled with the blast, and must have been heard far inland by the distant Aldeano * who might fancy that a thousand fiends were shrieking in the elemental strife above. “ Where’s your axe?—give it me ! Antonio take ano¬ ther. Where is the cruiser ? I see her—we can clear her. Hard a port your helm. All hands run up the fore-topmast stay-sail—cut!” rapidly uttered the daunt¬ less youth. The cables were severed at a blow, the sail burst from the bolt-ropes, the ship rose upon a roller crested with foam, careened round before the blast, and under the impulse of the hurricane, dashed madly towards the shore, passing the cruiser like a phantom, and disappear¬ ing amidst the haze and drift and surf;—in a moment after she struck. A tremendous roller lifted her again from the ground, and after several successive shocks, she plunged into comparatively smooth water. The next morning the Esperanza lay high and dry a half mile from the shore, and landed her cargo in safety. And before night the bold and penniless adventurer was in possession of one hundred thousand dollars—his well- earned share of a cargo, valued at that time, at nearly four hundred thousand dollars; whilst the British cruiser was content to weigh anchor and renew his honourable efforts against a trade now almost universally denounced the worst of piracy. The hero of our sketch has since acquired great Cottager. A FORTUNE FOUNDED ON A HURRICANE. 21 wealth, and possesses an income of some two hundred thousand dollars per annum, and is a Grandee of Spain, with several titles of distinction. It is nearly forty years since this incident occurred. He still enjoys excellent health, and in the conduct of his affairs is distinguished for that energy which marked his first career—as well as for every other quality that can adorn the character of a gentleman. So much for making the best of a chance; the first instance, we suppose, of doubloons being coined out of a hurricane. A BURIAL BY THE SEA-SIDE. Oh ! place him on the shore—that grave will be Fit resting-place for him who loved the sea; And let the surges make their ceaseless moan, Where lies the stranger, tombless and alone.” Anon. The shades of night were thickening round the foot of the mountain, whilst the hill-tops were yet gilded by the last rays of the setting sun, whose broad disk was slowly sinking into the bosom of the Caribbean sea. The twinkling stars of a tropical twilight already gemmed the firmament. Like a jewelled coronet, the departing luminary for a moment glowed upon the dark waters of the horizon, and then disappeared beneath the wave. As yet, his beams, unquenched, streamed forth from that bright pavilion to the zenith, and spread a golden mantle over the quiet landscape. The purple mountain and the dis¬ tant cape were seen through a beautiful thin mist of powdered gold. That breeze which had waved all day the branches of the cocoa, and graceful palm, and ruffled the sea into innumerable white caps, had died away. Not a leaf rustled upon the mountain’s side, or stirred the long rank grass of the savanna. The bay was like a polished mirror, distinctly reflecting the inverted images of the numerous craft that reposed upon its glassy sur- A BURIAL BY THE SEA-SIDE. 23 face, occasionally rimpled into feathery streaks by the breath of a loitering zephyr, unwilling to abandon the shores now redolent of the perfume of flowers and a luxuriant vegetation. In the shadowy places, the Cuculla* was trimming his evening lamp, and sparkled upon the bushes or streamed through the air his phosphorescent light. So profound was the calm, that from a distance through the dewy air, peopled with myriads of humming insects, pierced the silvery tones of the evening trumpet of the cavalry guard, and was heard the tinkling bells of a cavalcade of mules descending the mountain pass, mingled with the solemn, melancholy and wild chorus of the African at the Baracoon.f It is difficult to analyse the feelings inspired by such a scene. The prevailing sentiment is sadness, mingled with admiration of the works of Him “who spreadeth out the heavens, and treadeth upon the waves of the sea,” and wonder and delight at the various and sublime trans¬ formations of lights and shadows. These feelings are ex¬ perienced in every clime, whether the orb be dimmed in his parting glory by northern mists, or “ sinking in one un¬ clouded blaze of living light” into the golden mirror of a tropical sea. * Cuculla—The light emitted by this curious beetle is so strong, that by the united glare of two or three you can read quite a small print. In the dark nights, a bush or tree covered with them, appears to be illu¬ minated with innumerable small tapers. The Spanish ladies adorn their hair, and make bracelets and zones of them, which have a beautiful and striking effect. + Baracoon—The place where the slaves are deposited soon after their arrival. At sunset they join in a wild monotonous song, keeping time by clapping the hands together. In the stillness of the evening, this melancholy chant can be heard at a great distance. 24 A BURIAL BY THE SEA-SIDE. And now every sound had ceased; a deathlike silence prevailed, interrupted at intervals by the distant baying of the Spanish watch-dog, # and the first breath of the terra!,] which sighed through the quivering reeds and trembling leaves of the palmetto. Suddenly the silence was broken by the tones of a clear voice, saying— “ Man that is born of woman has but a short time to live, and is full of misery. He cometh up and is cut down like a flower. He fleeth, as it were, a. shadow- In the midst of life we are in death”- When a gust from the mountain swept over the plain. The gigantic palm bowed his head to the mournful night- breeze, which passed away upon its invisible path to the sea. And again all was still and silent, and the same clear voice continued—“ Ashes to ashes—dust to dust— looking for the general resurrection in the last day, when the earth and sea shall give up their dead.”— It was the Episcopal burial service. Every word tolled upon the air with startling precision. It was like the voice of a monitory spirit. The profound silence— * The Spanish watch-dog—Now the noisiest animal in creation ; but originally remarkable for a rare canine virtue, silence. This peculiarity of the aboriginal dogs of Cuba, is mentioned more than once by Colum¬ bus, in his Journal, and by the Pilot Oviedo—“ hay muchos perros en estos payses que nunca ladran ”—there are many dogs in this country that never bark. In a subsequent passage of the same rare and costly work, published at Havanna in 1835, it is said, “ that a European dog was left upon the island. Upon the return of Bartholomew Columbus from the Southern Continent, they were not a little astonished to find that the distinguished stranger had taught the native Cuban dogs to bark most furiously.” We leave the naturalists to draw the proper in¬ ferences from this curious fact. We can only say, that it is a great pity the aboriginal stock had not been preserved untainted by the vices of the European. t The terral,—or land-breeze—which sets in after sunset. A BURIAL BY THE SEA-SIDE. 25 the hour—the scene—all conspired to make it solemn and impressive. Upon the sea shore, within fifty yards of the surf that rippled upon the beach in low murmurs, like a dirge for the departed, a group of foreigners were collected round a rude grave scooped into the sand. The American flag, which had served as a pall, lay at the feet of the consul. At a given signal, the grave was carefully filled. For one moment the little crow T d remained silent and un¬ covered, and then slowly left the remains of their late companion to repose in his humble grave, within sight and sound of that element he loved in life. Under any circumstances, the solemn simplicity of that service is impressive. But there, upon that foreign Catholic shore,* where the “ churlish priest” denied to the Protestant Christian the poor privilege of being buried in consecrated ground—where bigotry, prejudice and ignorance are as intolerable as the heat of the mid- day sun,,without its light—the incident was strange and impressive beyond description. Of all that attended the humble obsequies of the poor American sailor, not one will ever forget that twilight funeral by the sea-side. * Catholic shore—There is no intention here to cast an aspersion upon the Roman Catholic religion. Bigotry and prejudice are not the exclusive properties of a Catholic shore. But local, and to censure the “ churlish priest” who, in this instance, was as intolerant as ignorant. The Spanish priest of Cuba is a different being from the enlightened Roman Catholic of the Free States. 3 THE FIRST AND LAST SPEECH OF A TYRO. My parents were respectable hard-working people— myself their only son. In an evil hour my poor father became convinced that his son Hiram Hock was born to be a great man. After mature deliberation and many misgivings, and doubtful shakes of the head by my kind and affectionate mother, it was finally decided that I should study the law. At the age of seventeen, there¬ fore, I commenced curving my spine upon a hard chair, with my heels upon the mantel-piece in winter, and the window-sill in summer, perusing at intervals the lyrical effusions of the gay and witty Coke, the facetious Fearne, the romantic Blackstone, and the irresistible and inex¬ haustible Chitty, that Beranger of the law. At the expiration of four years, with a stomach shri¬ velled up like parchment, weak eyes, and a confused notion of ten thousand conflicting principles associated with books bound in yellow calf-skin, I was presented by my preceptor with a diploma for starvation. That worthy individual in spectacles I shall never for¬ get : he was what is called “ a thorough-bred lawyer.” As a practitioner and special pleader, he was eminently renowned, and at the age of seventy-three, had acquired not only a subsistence, but some thought even a suffi¬ ciency in case of his demise, to prevent his widow from keeping a boarding-house. THE FIRST AND LAST SPEECH OF A TYRO. 27 All his actions were squared by rules of law, and the principles of his science. In his intercourse with man¬ kind, he conceived the first duty to pay a fee; any de¬ reliction from this important ceremony was a crime equivalent to high treason. Several rules had been served upon him at different times, and notices to quit this transitory life, in the shape of blindness, deafness and temporary paralysis; but he still remained firm at his vocation, and not in the slight¬ est degree intimidated by the severity of the attacks. By means of an antiquated process familiar to himself, but utterly unknown to the medical faculty,termed “the suffering a common recovery,”—he was again absorbed in the studies of his captivating science, never inter¬ mitted except to receive the “ honorarium,” all other lite¬ rature in his estimation being not worth the snap of a fi.fa. For nearly half a century this worthy gentleman had been seated upon an arm-chair adorned with a leathern cushion, of which there was a faint tradition, that it once had been stuffed with hair, but now as flat as a pancake, and as totally destitute of that excrescence as the shining bald pate of the distinguished sedentary. Empires had been overthrown by terrible revolutions; moral and po¬ litical changes had occurred unnoticed by this excellent man. An occasional innovati >n upon the revered com¬ mon law, would sensibly affect, his usual equanimity, and it is reported that it was several days before he could recover from the shock occasioned by the passage of a law, permitting a writ of partition to be sued out by the remainder man in fee, before the death of the tenant for life.* • See Laws of Pennsylvania. 28 THE FIRST AND LAST SPEECH OF A TYRO. He was just in all his dealings and strictly pious in all his thoughts and actions. Conscious of a vested remain¬ der in the future, dependent upon a particular prior estate created at the same time, and by the same instrument, (Co. Lit. 49, a,) coupled with the comfortable assurance of an equity of redemption as first decided in the case of Pulk vs. Clinton , 12 Vez. 59, his mind was perfectly prepared and tranquil upon all spiritual matters. And yet he had his bar jokes, and reminiscences of ancient jests served upon a brother long since gone to final judg¬ ment; and on motion days, would wrinkle up his sedate countenance into something that faintly resembled a smile, when reminded of these traditionary jeux d’esprit by a facetious judge, who had just received his quarter’s salary. Under the auspices of this worthy personage, I nailed a piece of tin upon the front window-shutter of a small room, in the noisiest and most disagreeable part of the town, and with heroic patience, for many a long month bode my time. I will pass over that weary interval. How often did I determine to abandon the profession and plunge into the active business of life, but habits acquired during my preparation for practice, with an entire sepa¬ ration from men of business, had utterly unfitted me now for any other pursuit: I was chained to the oar—the die was cast. O that I had only had the courage to throw aside those hateful books, and seize hold of the honest calling of my poor father—who was an eminent little calf-butcher! An opportunity at last occurred ; a client with lingering steps and slow, absolutely engaged my services to defend his cause in the Criminal Court. Why this infatuated THE FIRST AND LAST SPEECH OF A TYRO. 29 individual appealed to me in preference to five hundred others, it was impossible to imagine. Afterwards it came to my knowledge, that he had applied to several for professional aid, but vainly, not having it in his power to perform that very important ceremony so agreeable to my venerable preceptor, and without which, it was impossible to comprehend the plainest proposition, but the moment it was pocketed, every thing was as clear to his perception as the noon-day sun—by the bye the only figure he ever indulged in, with the exception of one other, with which he concluded an argument to his own mind perfectly irresistible, that “ there was not a loop to hang a doubt upon/’ Without any fee or reward, vested or contingent, be¬ hold me preparing for the trial of this mighty cause. As I passed through the streets on my way to the court house, I was impressed with the idea that the whole -world was gazing upon me. Cassar’s procession to the Capitol was nothing to the heavy forebodings that shook my frame. Upon taking my seat within the bar, in vain did I assume an air of affected indifference; my heart beat almost to bursting; my mind became confused; all the blood in my body had rushed to the inmost recesses of my heart, leaving my face pale and clammy as a cold muffin. I felt very ill, and once or twice was upon the point of retiring under a sudden indisposition. I was awakened from this general paralysis by an appeal from one of the judges, of “ Go on, sir, with your case !” My professional opponent, in manner, spirit and action, formed a strange contrast to myself. He was a petti¬ fogger in the most unqualified sense of the word : un¬ educated, scarcely able to articulate three words of 30 THE FIRST AND LAST SPEECH OF A TYRO. English correctly, and with about as much knowledge of the principles of the science as a Hottentot or Sibe¬ rian Cossack, yet bold, forward, conceited, and impudent, past all belief. The swaggering air with which this gentleman of the bar—once a sailor, now twisted into a land-shark,—con¬ fronted a timid witness, elicited great applause from the spectators, and one or two roaring speeches with violent gesticulations and divers appeals to the fearless integrity of his own conduct, so overcame the sympathies of the tipstaves and the court-loungers, that every oyster-house resounded with his praise. Independent of these pro¬ fessional excellencies, he was a pot-house politician of great renown; between him and the judge therefore there existed a kindred sympathy of feeling, the latter having arrived at that eminent station by reason of the same meritorious services. Diffident of my own abilities, fearful of the sound of my own voice, and embarrassed by the manners of the judge, who w 7 as rollicking back in an arm-chair, with his hand before his mouth, sliding something into the ear of his associate, which appeared to me a jest upon my person, or some stale joke entirely unconnected with the administration of justice—the curious enunciating in a bold confident manner of what my opponent, the sea- attorney, asserted to be law, and which he felt confident the court would bear him out with in their charge, so overwhelmed and distressed me, that I scarcely knew whether I stood upon my head or my heels. I however summoned up sufficient courage to rise and utter the following words—“Gentlemen of the Jury-” These words had no sooner passed my parched lips, THE FIRST AND LAST SPEECH OF A TYRO. 