I had seen many operations and exhibitions; but in none that I

assisted at, was I ever so struck with the utter inefficiency of the

measures resorted to, which yet seemed all of the most appropriate

and potential kind. I knew that there was no fault in the operation,

and that every expedient was strictly in accordance with the rules.

'He bears that stretching well,' said Parcels, one of the young

éléves. 'The dislocation must be into the ischiatic notch.'

'It is,' replied Berry. 'The thigh should be pulled up more. Rhodes,

instead of sending you up there again, to straddle over this poor

fellow, we'd better put you at the halyards, and let Featherbody

mount the rostrum.'

'It will take nothing less than the devil or a handspike to lift it

out. My handkerchief around the upper end of the thigh was a _point

d'appui_ to the bodies of four mortal surgeons, and served as a pivot

to balance two of them on his extremities, and two at his head.'

'Faith, you did resemble Jupiter, weighing the ponderous merits of

the adverse parties; and 'long time in even scale the _doctors_

hung;' but ---- seemed inclined to kick the beam.'

'Do you observe,' said Berry, 'the doctor himself looks a little

puzzled? J---- and D---- are no better off. I thought ---- would

break the femur more than once.'

'That bone is just at this time encased in an impenetrable mail of

rigid muscles. If you broke that, you would break an iron bar of

equal size,' replied Parcels.

'In truth,' said Berry, 'the relaxing medicines and bleeding seem

to have had little effect in weakening them. How much blood did you

take, Parcels, before he was brought in?'

'Two pounds.'

'He has lost two here, and I should think he might spare a couple

more.'

'Yes, and two more added to them, before the bone would be in its

place,' remarked Parcels.

'You have no faith in nauseating mixtures, and debilitating remedies?'

'No. While they apparently reduce the strength, they seem not to take

a whit from the power of the muscles to _resist_ extension.'

'You will certainly be expelled the church.'

'There is,' continued Parcels,'a kind of galvanism residing in the

muscles, which emanates from the brain; and all bodily remedies,

while they leave this organ in a state of intense action and

excitement, can have no beneficial effect in subduing them.'

'Ego cycnus!' said Aster, in a kind of Latin, which must be taken

literally to be understood, 'I swan! this is the most untractable

member that ever came under my notice. We shall have to subscribe

for a high-heeled boot for the other leg, if we carry this out much

farther.'

'Another trial of doctoring, I think, will shortly break off the

matter in debate,' observed Berry.

They now for a second time drew him into mid-air. The nurse, who

had stood looking on with his hawk's eye, and wiping the sweat from

his brow with one hand, while with the other he grappled the end of

the pulley-rope, again applied his strength; the blocks drew nearer

together; the surgeon, using the disjointed member for a lever,

and his knee as a rest, exerted his whole force upon the limb, in

one strong effort to pry it out; but it gave not, although it was

anticipated that the bone might snap. The assistant upon the table,

drawing upward with all his might, endeavored to entice (somewhat as

the Irishman _remonstrated_) the upper end from its hiding-place.

But it would have been easier, to all appearance, to have raised the

world without Archimedes' fulcrum, than to have displaced this little

globe from its new socket.

The surgeons regarded each other with evident indecision and

inquietude, and began to remit or grow more abrupt in their

exertions. The students looked incredulous, and exhibited a

disposition to depart. But, resolved not to incur the mortification

or disgrace of a failure, if it could be averted by any human means,

the operators determined to carry their exertions, in a final

attempt, as far as was consistent with the patient's safety. They

loosed the bandages from the arms, and gave him an additional dose of

the nauseating solution.

In this state of things, a young man leaped cautiously over the

partition into the arena, stole his way unnoticed among the surgeons,

and approaching the table stealthily, took from it a scalpel, or

operating-knife, of large size. With this, passing in front of the

man, he suddenly started up with it before his eyes, and seemed ready

to plunge it into his body. As he made this gesture, the man roused

up, in horror. Although pale from the loss of blood, he blanched

still whiter, at this palpable demonstration of a design to slay him.

'It is necessary, my friend,' said the young man, steadily and

clearly, 'to cut down to your back-bone, in order to get out the head

of the thigh-bone, which is lodged there!'

Who can tell the terror that filled the sufferer's excited

imagination, during the utterance of this awful ultimatum! 'The sense

of death is most in apprehension;' and in the horror of that moment,

he felt with King John:

'The tackle of my heart is crack'd and burn'd,

And all the shrouds wherewith my life should sail,

Are turned to one thread, one little hair:

My heart hath one poor string to stay it by,

Which holds but till thy news be uttered,

And then all this thou see'st is but a clod!'

The ready éléve now made as if he was about to lay open the bowels

of the patient, at a single rash stroke, from the stomach to the

hip. Every arm was raised to arrest him; but taken as they were by

surprise, he had ample time to execute his purpose. Leaning over and

pressing his hand upon the side of the abdomen, he drew the knife

rapidly and violently along its naked surface, from one extremity to

the other. Then hastily rising, and throwing the knife on the bloody

floor, he darted from the midst of the attendants; contriving, in the

course of the action, to cover up with a corner of the blanket the

work he had committed.

The patient, who had at first struggled, sank back; the spectators

ran to his side; the students started from their seats; and _the bone

slipped into its place, with an audible 'click!'_ They hurriedly

drew off the blanket from the patient's body, when lo! there was no

wound! They went up to his side, and endeavored to arouse him from

his stupor, and make him sensible that he was not hurt. In this they

soon succeeded. The straps, pullies, and bandages were undone, and he

was laid at length upon the table.

The young operator had well observed the powerfully depressing effect

of fear on the human system, and had been incited to the ingenious

expedient just described, by witnessing the obstinacy with which the

bone had resisted all the measures for its reduction. In a few days

the patient recovered entirely from his fright, and was seen walking

about the halls of the hospital.

FOOTNOTE:

[1] THE writer passed a few of the first years of his practice

in the hospital of ----. While in this institution, he had, as

house-surgeon, opportunities of becoming acquainted with the history

of cases, and of attending and assisting in a great number of highly

interesting operations, many of them perfectly unique in their

character, and performed by individuals among the most distinguished

in this branch of the profession. To the general reader, the mere

technical narration of incidents of this nature would present but

a mass of dry and unintelligible jargon. One, however, who has for

some time voluntarily withdrawn himself from the active duties of the

profession, to follow another pursuit, may be regarded, perhaps, as

capable of portraying, with truth and clearness, the vivid scenes of

his earlier years.

THE ANNIVERSARY.

BY THE REV. THOMAS DALE, ENGLAND.

I.

A YEAR hath lingered through its round,

Since thou wert with the dead;

And yet my bosom's cureless wound

Still bleeds as then it bled.

All now without is cold and calm;

Yet o'er my heart its healing balm

Oblivion will not shed:

If day beguiles my fond regret,

Night comes--and how can I forget?

II.

For mute are then the sounds of mirth

I loathe, yet cannot flee;

And thoughts in solitude have birth,

That lead me back to thee.

By day, amid the busy herd,

My soul is like the captive bird

That struggles to be free;

It longs to leave a world unblest,

To 'flee away and be at rest!'

III.

Rest! how, alas! shall mortal dare

Of rest on earth to dream?

The heritage of ceaseless care

May better far beseem

The child of grief, the heir of wo;

And what if mutual love may throw

A joy-imparting beam

On life's wide waste?--'t is quickly gone,

And he must wander on--alone!

IV.

It was no charm of face or mien,

That linked my heart to thee;

For many fairer have I seen,

And fairer yet may see:

It was a strong though nameless spell,

Which seemed with thee alone to dwell,

And this remains to me,

And will remain: thy form is fled,

But this can e'en recall the dead.

V.

Thine image is before me now,

All angel as thou art;

Thy gentle eye and guileless brow,

Are graven on my heart;

And when on living forms I gaze,

Mem'ry the one loved form portrays;

Ah! would it ne'er depart!

And they alone are fair to me,

Who wake a livelier thought of thee.

VI.

Oft, too, the fond familiar sound

Is present to mine ear;

I seem, when all is hushed around,

Thy thrilling voice to hear.

Oh! could I dream thou still wert nigh,

And turn as if to breathe reply,

The waking how severe!

When on the sickening soul must press

The sense of utter loneliness!

VII.

A year hath pass'd!--another year

Its wonted round may run;

Yet earth will still be dark and drear,

As when its course begun.

I would not murmur or repine,

Yet, though a thousand joys were mine,

I still should sigh for ONE;

How could I think of her who died,

And taste of joy from aught beside!

VIII.

Yes, dearest! though that treasured love

Now casts a gloom o'er all,

Thy spirit from its rest above

I would not yet recall:

My earthly doom thou canst not share,

And I in solitude must bear

Whate'er may still befal;

But I can share thy home, thy heaven,

All griefs forgot, all guilt forgiven!

LOVE AND REASON.

GENTLE Lady! thy smile as the starlight is fair,

And thine eyes are as charming as ever they were;

And thy voice is the same as that love-breathing tone

Which once whispered _my_ name in this bower alone;

But since then, that sweet voice, in this bower of thine,

Hath whispered _another's_ as fondly as mine!

You remember the vow which you made me at eve,

When together we swore in one faith to believe;

You remember the stars that looked on from above,

And how sweetly you called them 'the sentries of love!'

Those stars, thou false maiden! were shining that hour,

When I heard that strange name in this very same bower!

Perhaps you then thought it a very good game,

To sigh to one lover, till the other one came:

And now I remember, I once heard you own

That you never _could_ sit in this bower alone;

'And so I could not,' quoth the maid, with a sneer,

'So I talked to my parrot, as _you_ were not here!'

AMERICAN ANTIQUITIES.

NUMBER TWO.

----'Amidst ruins; there to track

Fall'n states and buried greatness o'er a land

Which _was_ the mightiest in its old command,

And _is_ the loveliest.'

BYRON.

IN our first number, we introduced the reader to the magnificent

ruins of a once great and populous city, in the Province of Chiapa,

Central America. It was thought, it will be remembered, that a

description of the present state of the Palencian metropolis, the

character of the people who inhabited it, and the extraordinary

arts by which both were distinguished, should precede other facts

and conclusions, in relation to the early history of the American

continent. Reasons for this will have been apparent, we trust, in

the opinions expressed of the peculiarities and great antiquity

of the Tultecan people. The advanced state of knowledge to which

that people had arrived, at a very remote period of time, and the

subsequent connection which will appear to have existed between them

and that distinct class of mankind--which, at a much later, yet still

very distant date, occupied the great western valleys of the United

States--also require of us an early and more particular reference, in

again calling attention to the subject under consideration.

A brief notice of one or two of the ancient Palencian edifices,

among the few that have come down to us in the form and feature of

their primitive greatness, cannot fail to interest the lovers of the

antique and the curious:

----'There is a power

And magic in the ruined battlement,

For which the palace of the present hour

Must yield its pomp, and wait till ages are its dower.'

The principal structure referred to, and with which it has been

supposed all the others were connected, in purpose at least, if not

by subterranean or other passages, presents a style of architecture

resembling the gothic. It is rude, massive, and durable. As a

whole, it has an appearance not unlike that of the ancient Egyptian

edifices; still it is peculiar, and differs from all others hitherto

known. The world nowhere exhibits the same striking characteristics,

among the remains of ancient art and early genius; nor can we trace

in any other structures the same peculiarities of arrangement and

apparent adaptation. The great permanency of the fourteen stone

buildings, standing, even to this late day, sufficiently attest

their superior style and workmanship. They are called by the people

_Cassas de Piédras_, or stone houses. Buildings of the same kind, now

found in other parts of Guatemala and in Yucatan, some of which are

of immense size, and of the same architectural style, are similarly

named. There seems to be but one general tradition in relation to

the character of the people who constructed these great and strong

buildings; and we are led to infer from their internal structure

and arrangement, as well as from all that can be learned from the

traditions of the natives, that the principal ones were erected for

like purposes, viz: for temples of worship, and for the residences

of kings. The great building at Palenque was undoubtedly built for

the former purpose, and occupied, from time immemorial, by numerous

priests devoted to religious ceremonies.

'But thou, of temples old or altars new,

Standest alone, with nothing like to thee!'

The entrance to the Palencian temple is on the east side, by a

portico more than one hundred feet in length, and nine feet broad.

This portico is supported by plain rectangular pillars, without

pedestals, fifteen inches in diameter. On these are laid smooth

square stones, one foot in thickness, which form an achitrave. These

blocks are nearly covered with stucco-work of shields, etc. On each

pillar, and running from one to another, rest also plain rectangular

blocks of stones, five feet long, and six feet broad. Vestiges

of heads, and various other designs in stucco, are discovered on

these blocks; and on the internal side, are seen numerous busts,

representing, without doubt, a series of kings. Between these, there

is a range of windows, along the entire length of the building, some

of which are square, and others in the form of the Greek cross.

Beyond the corridor, is a square court, which is approached by a

series of seventeen steps. The north side of the building, though in

ruins, shows very distinctly that it had a corridor and a chamber,

like the other three sides. There are four chambers, with two windows

on the south side: the east and west sides are alike, except in the

devices. On the west side is seen a mask, with a crown, and a long

beard, and under these are two Greek crosses. These specimens of

workmanship resemble Roman sculpture, particularly that of Jupiter.

The mask may be supposed to represent some of the deities worshipped

in the temple; and very probably that of _Quetralcoatl_, the god of

the air, and a favorite deity, as will hereafter appear.

Proceeding forward, we are ushered into another large court, similar

in size and appearance to the last mentioned, having a passage around

it. In this are two chambers, and an interior gallery, which looks

into a great court-yard on one side, and over the adjacent country,

on the other. Pillars adorn the gallery, on either side, exhibiting

numerous and ingenious specimens of sculptured art. The purposes to

which it was devoted, are satisfactorily explained by the character

of the designs here represented; and, like all the other apartments,

it may be presumed to have had a distinct and peculiar use. None,

however, would seem to have had a more melancholy appropriation.

Though the character of this people was mild and peaceful, yet it can

hardly be supposed that, in the earliest conditions of human society,

some rude and barbarous customs should not have prevailed. As with

individual character, all improvements in the manners and customs of

a people must be the result of experience. Hence the disgust which

we feel in view of the practices of many ancient nations is not

always a just estimate of the real character of that people; for they

may not be more abhorrent to us, than our own may appear to those

of succeeding ages. It will be understood that we allude to human

sacrifices. There are, in fact, in this gallery, numerous relievos,

which are supposed to represent sacrifices of the people, or of their

enemies, to the manes of their favorite deities. Some of these, with

others of the finest specimens of sculpture found in the building,

have been mutilated or removed, and afterward conveyed to Spain,

where, in all probability, they will prove of little advantage to

antiquarian literature.

In the large open court before mentioned, within the centre of the

temple, there is a high tower, now having four stories, to which

there was, in ages past, a fifth, surmounted by a cupola; all making

in height from sixty to seventy feet. The design and execution

of this tower indicate great skill and ingenuity. Within it was

another, having windows facing those in the exterior tower, which

were intended to afford light to a series of steps leading to the

top. The interior tower was plain, while the outer one was in a true

and tasteful style of architecture. The principal entrance to these

sacred and lofty structures, is on the north side, but the passages

to both towers are now entirely filled up by fallen rubbish of

stones, gravel, etc. On the south side of the building, and behind

four small chambers, are two very large apartments, supposed to have

been used as oratorios. These are richly ornamented, with figures

in stucco, some of which are beautifully enamelled. In these rooms

are numerous statues, placed along their sides, and also several

Grecian heads, which were, undoubtedly, of a sacred character. They

were variously ornamented with strings of jewels, which had been

offered them, it may be supposed, by the people in their devotional

exercises. Behind these oratorios, are still two other apartments,

each of which is eighty feet in length, and nine in width, extending

from north to south. Here was discovered one of the most singular

and perfect specimens of sculpture yet found among the ruins of this

vast city. It was one of the people's gods astride an animal. From

the drawing taken of this, it is unquestionably an admirably-executed

relic. The proportions are most perfect throughout, and indicative

of a knowledge of the art, vastly superior to that of any ancient

barbarous nation. The origin of this knowledge we are at a loss to

conjecture. The animal is descriptive of the American lion, which was

less powerful than either the African or Asiatic, and without a mane.

The same animal is represented in some of the other apartments. From

the position of the idol, it is inferred that it was worshipped as a

river-god, as with the Hindoos. Indeed, in referring hereafter to the

probable origin of these arts, it will be seen that similar deities

were worshipped by the latter people. Analogous arts and customs will

also be traced to various other nations. One of these apartments

contains an elliptical stone, inserted in the wall, below which there

is a plain rectangular block of stone, six feet in length, three in

breadth, and seven inches thick, standing upon four feet, in the

form of a table, with bas-relief figures supporting it. Numerous

characters, or symbols, adorn the edges of this table, all of which

had, without doubt, a significant meaning; but all knowledge of that

meaning, which might now be turned to a good account, in deciphering

the character and customs of the ancient occupants of this singular

temple, is entirely lost; and, unless some fortunate discovery

should be made, will ever remain uninterpreted. The various other

hieroglyphics and symbolical designs will also, we fear, continue to

be a sealed book to the antiquarian.

At the end of one of these apartments, is an opening through the

stone pavement, six feet long and three broad, conducting, by a

flight of stone steps, to extensive subterranean apartments. These

steps have, at regular intervals, large flat landings, in each of

which are openings or doorways, to other and continuous ranges of

stone steps. All of these landings were curiously ornamented with

sculpture work. There were several other avenues to this principal

underground passage, most of which were blocked up by crumbling

fragments. It is however possible, that these avenues may lead to

other apartments, or, not improbably, to the other and neighboring

buildings; a fact strongly suspected, both from the use to which

the subterranean apartments were appropriated, and the character of

their occupants. At the second landing and doorway, torch-light is

required, after which the regular stairways conduct, by a gradual

descent, to the great subterranean rooms. From each landing, the

explorer turns to the succeeding flight of steps, until he arrives

within the gloomy chambers below, to which he is admitted by a large

stone door. The first room is one hundred and ninety-two feet in

length! Beyond this is another chamber, of the same dimensions, which

looks toward the south, by means of windows, commanding a corridor

running to the extreme of the building. In these rooms are found

plain horizontal stones, seven and a half feet long, by three feet

three inches wide, standing upon four wrought pedestals, about two

feet from the ground. These are portioned off in the form of alcoves;

and hence are supposed to have been used by the priests of the temple

as places for sleeping.

The accompanying outline illustration of this temple is a hasty

sketch of the side partly in ruins, and is intended to show, to the

best advantage, the form and general appearance of the exterior. We

have by us a ground-plan, or diagram of the internal structure, which

may be given on another occasion. This view will be seen to present

the upper portion of the most curious and important structure yet

discovered, viz., the tower, where it is supposed were preserved,

with great care and veneration, the ashes of the Tultecan kings.

Attempts to reach parts of these singular structures (for there were

two, one within the other,) were unavailing. The avenue leading

within the internal one, to the summit, is now blocked up by broken

fragments and earth. Trees are to be seen growing firmly upon the

towers. The entrance was on the north side, but this is now filled

with heaps of rubbish. This tower exhibits far more ingenuity and

good taste, than any thing yet remaining of the Tultecan buildings.

Another drawing, which represents the entire external tower, with

trees standing upon various projecting parts, is in course of

execution.

[Illustration]

The Knickerbocker, Vol. 10, No. 2, August 1837 · 第 2 / 11 段