_"Isle of the beautiful! how much thou art,
Now, in thy desolation, like the fate
Of those who came in innocence of heart
With thy green Eden to assimilate:
Then Art her coronal to Nature gave
To deck thy brow, Queen of the onward wave!
And woman came, the beautiful and good,
And made her happy home 'mid thy embracing flood."_
The allusion, here, is to Blennerhasset's Island, which is beautifully
situated in the Ohio. The romantic story of its former inhabitants
makes it a spot of great interest to the Emigrant, who, in descending
the river, never fails to request that it may be pointed out to him;
and it is often the topic of conversation and conjecture to him and
his companions for hours after they have passed it. The author is
indebted to Morgan Neville, Esq., for the following account of the
Island and its unfortunate owner. Mr. Neville's admirable tale of Mike
Fink, and his other sketches, have created in the public an appetite
for more, which they have long hoped he would be induced to gratify,
with longer and more frequent productions; or, at least, that he would
collect what he has written into a volume.
"BLENNERHASSET'S ISLAND.--How many recollections of mingled pleasure
and pain, does the name of this once beautiful spot, call to mind! In
descending the Ohio, I never come in sight of the Island, without
sensations almost too powerful to bear; and I linger on the deck of
the boat, until the point below snatches it from view. The first
impressions were made on me in early youth, and time cannot efface
them; on the contrary, the long vista through which I look back to
this western 'Eden,' presents it, probably, with exaggerated colorings
of beauty and loveliness. The traveller, as he wanders over the
grounds, once consecrated by philanthropy, cannot reconcile it with
probability, that a proud mansion, a quarter of a century since, was
here erected, dedicated to hospitality, where a priestess, in the
person of an elegant and refined lady, shed an influence around that
attracted to its portal the stranger from every country. In looking at
a scene, now desolate and repulsive, he can scarcely credit the fact,
that, within that period, the same place was embellished by gardens,
groves, and arbors, upon which taste was exhausted, and which cost a
fortune to realize. The villa of Blennerhasset was really a
beacon-light in the wilderness, that seemed created to invite the
approach of the stranger to enjoy that repose which the sluggish and
comfortless mode of travelling of that day, rendered so gratifying.
The only sounds now heard, are the sighing of the wind through the
lofty cotton wood, or the puffing of steam, as some boat rushes
rapidly past the prosperous settlement of Bellepre. There was a time
when music of a less melancholy character breathed upon the ear; when
a master hand swept the chords, and science and taste directed the
scene.
Herman Blennerhasset and his accomplished wife have sat for many a
picture; but, after all, Fancy, alone, guided the pencil, and the
originals have never been truly sketched. The reality of their history
possesses sufficient interest, without the aid of fiction, to enlist
the sympathies of the most romantic. Born to fortune, and nobly
connected, Blennerhasset stood in the front rank of Irish society.
Educated for the bar, he distinguished himself on many occasions, and
he was the assistant counsel, with Curran, in the celebrated trial of
Hamilton Rowan. But his disposition was restless, his mind visionary,
and, doubtless, he felt sincerely for the degraded state of his
country. Notwithstanding his close relationship to the aristocracy of
Ireland, and the glaring unfitness of his character for scenes of
daring and of danger, he connected himself with the leading yeomen of
that day, and became the intimate associate and co-adjutor of Arthur
O'Conner. He continued to labor in the cause of Liberty, until the
eyes of Government were turned upon him; the result is a matter of
public history: O'Conner was arrested, and Blennerhasset escaped. He
had the good fortune, however, to secure a considerable portion of his
property, and, accompanied by his accomplished wife, an English lady,
he arrived in New York in 1796 or '97, with what, in this country, was
esteemed a large fortune.
He was, however, a visionary; he knew nothing of human nature, nothing
of the practical business of life. With considerable literary
acquirements, and much pretensions to science, he gave himself up to
all the reveries and schemes of modern philosophy; with Southey,
Godwin, and the whole class, he was continually dreaming about the
perfectibility of human nature, and believed that innocence was alone
to be found in that portion of humanity, which approached the nearest
to the state of nature. With these notions, which he succeeded, in
some measure, in imparting to his young and interesting partner, he
declined establishing himself in any of our Atlantic cities, then the
only places in the Union offering attractions to a foreigner of taste
and fortune, and turned his attention, to the magnificent solitudes of
the West. He purchased a portion of the Island in Virginia, near the
mouth of the Little Kenhawa, which has been consecrated by his
misfortunes, and executed those embellishments which have since become
the theme of many a fanciful speech and tale.
Considering himself a second Capac, he set about acquiring an
influence over the rude inhabitants of the Virginia shores, which
might enable him to test the efficiency of his favorite system. But
his exertions were abortive, and he became convinced of the folly of
his early speculations on human nature; his unsophisticated scholars,
affecting to admire him, overreached him on all occasions, and then
laughed at him. He embarked in commercial speculations; this proved a
failure, and he stopped in time to save a portion of the large fortune
which, a few years before, he brought from Europe. He recanted, in
bitterness of feeling, his early political principles, and began to
sigh for the charms of refined society. Discontent stole into his
domestic circle, and the idea of educating his two interesting boys in
the desert became insupportable.
_Oh! quantum est in rebus in ave!_
During this state of feeling, Colonel Burr presented himself, armed
with all the fascinations of manners and address, which so eminently
distinguished him. He soon became the ruler of the destiny of the
Island pair, and unfolded to them, with resistless eloquence, his
magnificent project of the conquest of Mexico, gilding his own
ambition under the plausible motive of relieving enslaved millions
from the thraldom of Spanish tyranny. The idea of becoming prominent
members of a court that would rival the ancient splendor of Montezuma,
and the modern glory of Napoleon, absorbed every other feeling. The
remains of this once large fortune were embarked in the scheme, and
ruin and misery were the consequence. What he felt and saw as but a
misdemeanor, was distorted, by political rancor, into treason; and,
although one of the most enlightened juries that were ever empanelled,
pronounced an acquittal, Blennerhasset was left destitute of means,
and blasted in reputation. He attempted to retrieve his affairs as a
cotton planter, but was unsuccessful; he afterwards removed to
Montreal, to resume his profession. Within a few years he has returned
to England, the outlawry against him having been removed; and those
who feel an interest in the history of this persecuted family, may be
gratified to know that their decline of life will not be devoid of
comfort. They reside near Bath, in England, with a sister of
Blennerhasset, the relict of the late admiral De Courcy. The evening
of life promises to close free from those clouds that so long lowered
over them.