been filled up. No sooner had the pestilence abated, than another
enemy, scarcely less dreadful, made its appearance. The continued
ravages of war had prevented the tilling of the fields. No one would
attempt to sow, knowing how insecure would be his ownership of the
crop he might produce. There had been no grain, and no fruits, and no
vegetables; and the cattle had died of the plague, or had been destroyed
by the enemy. It was in vain attempting to get a supply from foreign
countries. Our commerce had been destroyed, for no nation would
hold communication with a people among whom raged so destructive a
pestilence. They avoided the shores of England as if death was on its
soil; and any vessel attempting to communicate with them, or to enter
one of their ports, was fired at and sunk. The consequence was, our
ships lay rotting in the docks, and their crews were either dead, or
had dispersed over the island, and were not to be found. The terrific
visitation of famine was now upon us. Every thing was eaten that the
human stomach could be brought to swallow. Things the most loathsome
to the taste, and offensive to the eyes, were readily and ravenously
devoured. Then the cheek sunk; the eye-ball fell; the flesh dwindled
away; and all crawled with half lifeless limbs in search of any
substance that might lessen the cravings of their appetites. But at last
every thing that was digestible disappeared, and the skeleton forms of
the sufferers were stretched stiffly on the place where they fell--some
in madness, some in despair, and all in agony and dread.
"There was no opportunity allowed me for legislating with any advantage.
I thought of every plan that afforded the slightest assistance towards
lessening the dreadful effects of the calamity which the whole country
was enduring; but I met with no one to second my exertions. The few who
retained the use of their faculties were feeble and emaciated. Famine
was in their gaunt limbs, and despair upon their aching hearts. No one
appeared inclined to pay the slightest attention to any thing but his
own sufferings. There was no authority but that of the strong, and they
who retained their physical power the longest, robbed the dying of such
slight nourishment as they had acquired. The rich would bring out their
treasures and offer them for a meal, and when some avaricious wretch was
found to make the exchange, one more strong than either would come by,
and wrest the food from the impoverished, and the wealth from the miser;
and both died within the hour. The breast of the mother became dry, and
the infant was abandoned to starve when it became an incumbrance to the
famished parent. Cats, dogs, rats, mice, and every kind of animal, no
matter how disgusting in its habits, had been greedily devoured; birds,
fish, and insects, that had previously been considered loathsome, were
sought after as delicacies; and weeds, roots, the leaves of trees,
offal, and even many things still more objectionable, became the daily
food of many who had been accustomed to the most luxurious fare.
"Finding that I could do no good among the scanty band of skeletons that
clung to a lingering existence, I determined on endeavouring to make my
way to the northern part of the island, where an industrious and hardy
race had managed to retain their independence and prosperity during the
wars, the pestilence, and the famine, that ravaged its southern portion.
My grandson was too young to walk great distances; so, when he was
tired, I placed him upon my shoulder, and thus we journeyed on our way.
Our food was acorns, berries, roots, and leaves. Sometimes I was enabled
to catch a fish, or a bird, or a small animal; but these were luxuries
seldom to be enjoyed. We passed several parties apparently intent upon
the same object as ourselves; but many were there of the groups who
laid themselves down on the road-side weary and famishing, and there
perished. Continually I came upon some individual made desperate by his
hunger, scratching up the earth with his hands in search of the worms
it contained, which, if found, were eaten with as much enjoyment as the
most delicious meats, and if the search was fruitless, the dry soil
was crammed into the mouth as a substitute. Very few of the travellers
could have reached the end of their journey, for we continued to pass
the dying and the dead as far as we proceeded. Sometimes a solitary
wretch would be found prostrate at the foot of a tree, the bark of which
he had evidently been gnawing; further on a family of children were
discovered, with their little bodies shrunk to the bone, and the parents
at a short distance, with their faces turned from them, as if they could
not look upon their sufferings; and in another place, a lover and his
mistress lay clasped in each other's fleshless arms.
"We were crossing an extensive and barren moor, when we came before
a group of dead bodies, among which, to my exceeding astonishment, I
beheld a child--a delicate girl of five or six years of age--busily
occupied in chasing a butterfly. The scene was so extraordinary that I
stood gazing on it for a considerable period before I could determine
what to do. The insect's gaudy wings kept fluttering over the lifeless
forms that were cold and stiff on the ground, sometimes alighting on
a hand, sometimes on a face; and the child, in an ecstasy of delight,
screaming, and laughing, and stretching out its little arms, pursued it
from place to place. What a time was this for reflection! Here was life
in the midst of death--the pursuit of pleasure among the most fatal and
least endurable examples of pain. It was a wonderful sight! The girl
seemed to know neither want nor sorrow; and continued her sport,
indifferent to the spectral shapes that lay extended at her feet. Their
ghastly stare, and gaunt visages, had no terrors for her. The hunt of
the butterfly occupied all her thoughts, and the hope of attaining
possession of its beautiful colours seemed the only desire entertained.
After watching her movements with indescribable interest for several
minutes, I advanced towards the child, and invited her to go with me. I
had considerable difficulty to get her to leave the butterfly; and when
I led her away from the spot, she chatted with infantile volubility, as
if there was nothing else but the butterfly in the world.
"I found the people of the northern provinces hospitable, and with them
I lived for nearly half a century. They escaped the ravages of the
pestilence by not allowing any infected persons from the neighbouring
counties, who crowded towards the borders, to enter into their
territory. None had presented themselves during the prevalence of the
famine but myself; and their own frugality saved them from the horrors
which had desolated England. They looked upon the southern portion of
the island as a doomed country, for although several parties from the
north had gone there for the purpose of forming settlements, they either
returned after a short stay, stating that neither cattle nor crops would
nourish on the land, or were never more heard of, and were supposed to
have fallen victims to the pirates who occasionally visited the coast. I
passed my time in educating the two children of whom I had taken charge,
and both made great progress under my instructions. The boy became
a fine, active, intelligent man, the girl an admirable example of
womankind; and as I found that their hearts were for each other, in due
time I had them made man and wife. I have outlived them and all their
progeny, with the exception of Lilya, whom, after the decease of her
family, I took with me to England, having at the time an ardent desire
to revisit its desolated shores.
"What I found England I need scarcely describe; you see it before you.
It was a complete ruin. A sad and miserable remnant of her people did
strive to till the land; but the soil refused to give sustenance to the
seed, and the cultivator could gather nothing but a harvest of weeds.
The earth was abandoned for the waters, and the farmers became
fishermen; but the sea and the river gave an inadequate supply. One by
one the inhabitants dropped off, till at last the only human creatures
within the country were myself and Lilya. We managed to subsist by
hunting and fishing. Our fare was not at all times very delicate, and
was seldom very plentiful; but we provided for ourselves tolerably
well. We were obliged to rely upon our own resources; for the savage
appearance of the island, and the belief that it was doomed to
destruction, prevented our being visited by any vessels from the
continent; and even the pirates from the neighbouring islands, having
found that the country contained nothing to tempt them to a visit,
turned their attention to more opulent regions. Lilya and I, therefore,
had the whole land to ourselves, and over it we held absolute
sovereignty. Even the savage monsters of the forest appeared to
acknowledge our supremacy, for none offered to molest us. We took our
way through deserted piles and fallen monuments; and if we disturbed
the lion in his lair, or the eagle in his eyrie, they made way for our
approach, and returned to their haunts when we were gone.
"Thus passed the time. Lilya grew up as you see--a child of the forest,
skilful in snaring game, and in preserving skins; affectionate in her
manner, gentle in her temper, and shy as a dove in her nest. As for me,
I was a wanderer over the lands of my forefathers. The stream, the vale,
the mountain, and the plain, were accustomed to my visits. I became a
denizen of the forest and the plain--a resident in the deserted cities.
I found a dwelling in the palace and the hut; and all places were my
home. I experienced a melancholy pleasure in beholding the scenes in
which the greatness of my country had once been exhibited. I walked
among the crumbling ruins of her once gorgeous halls. The sunken
roofs of her stately cathedrals for me were full of religious awe and
veneration; the dilapidated battlements of her ancient castles seemed
still to show the dauntless valour of the spirits by whom they had been
defended; and the moss and lichens that disfigured her public monuments
gave only a fresher interest to the worth they represented. From these
I gathered the memories of a better time, and the glories of the past
warmed my old heart with the vigour of a second youth. I lived over
again the departed age--I recalled to life the buried generations--I
contemplated the happiness which the grave had long since hid in her
bosom--and the discoloured stones around me seemed to echo the busy
goings on of an industrious population. Free hearts were throbbing
proudly around me, and the stillness of the desert along which I stalked
was made alive with the pleasures of the young, the noble, and the
brave.
"Gone is your glory, oh my country!" exclaimed the old man, in a more
feeble voice; "your greatness among the nations is put down; your
magnificence has dwindled to a heap of stones; your power has nothing by
which it may be known. If the stranger come in a few years, and inquire
for the city which was the wonder of the world, none shall tell him, for
both city and citizens will have crumbled into dust. If he ask for the
people whose name was a glory in every clime that exists, he shall find
no better reply than the echo of his own voice. He may wander over the
brave old island in search of places that history has made immortal,
without being able to discover a trace of their existence. The thistle
and the nettle will hide the graves of its illustrious; ravenous beasts
will prowl in its cities; and all that is noble and grand in its
localities will be crushed, swallowed, and lost in one devouring ruin;
and I, that am here as an ancient tree with gnarled trunk and brittle
boughs, that stands up as if unnoticed by the destroyer, when the rest
of the forest have mouldered into the soil, will then have perished and
passed away, and not even a remembrance of my name will be left upon the
land."
"Noble old man!" exclaimed Oriel Porphyry with fervour, "there is no
one here who does not sympathise with your situation. I would endeavour
to console you, but I am afraid that your case is one beyond all
consolation. What can I do to render you assistance? Let me prevail
on you to leave this land, which has been so completely devoted to
destruction, and I will find you a more attractive home, and friends as
kind as those you have lost."
"Leave this land!" loudly cried the Englishman, apparently astonished
at the suggestion. "For a hundred and twenty years this island has been
the attraction of all my thoughts; my love for it arose from admiration
of its magnificence, and my heart still clings to it in its utter
annihilation. Do you think it would be possible for me, after having
made myself so familiar with its ruins, to find pleasure in the
prosperity of a far off country? No! to me the world hath nothing like
it. What are smiling landscapes? What are stately edifices? What are
fields busy with life, and cities astir with industry, if on a foreign
shore? Its homes are not my home--its graves are not the graves of my
people. But these tottering walls and depopulated lands are mine; I
hold them in undisputed possession; I have a claim on them which has
been long acknowledged; and they have a claim on me which I feel I must
speedily prepare to liquidate. No: leave me to the desolation in which
I dwell. It has become habitual--it has become necessary. I have long,
perhaps too long, been its inhabitant; but the hour comes when another
ruin must be added to those which now encumber the soil."
"And then what is to become of the gentle Lilya?" inquired the young
merchant.
"Ah! 'tis of that I am ever anxious," replied the old man, with a look
of affectionate solicitude towards his youthful relative. "The child is
full of amiable ways--she is artless and untutored: I cannot part with
her; and yet to leave her unprotected in this wilderness is a source of
constant disquietude to me."
"If you entrust her to me," added Oriel, "by the honour of manhood I
promise to behave to her as a brother; and I will place her under the
protection of a lady from whom she will receive every attention her
youth and unfriended situation requires."
"In her name I can promise all that she stands most in need of," said
Zabra.
"What say you, my Lilya?" inquired the Englishman. "Will you go with
the strangers? Will you leave this wretched country, and seek one where
happiness awaits you?"
"I will have no other country but yours, oh my protector!" exclaimed the
girl, as she flung herself into the old man's arms. "These strangers
are good; but they can never be so good as you have been: and these old
walls too--where shall I meet with such verdant moss, or such beautiful
ivy, as they possess? While you live, with you must my existence be
passed: and when you have ceased to lead me in my wanderings through the
silent forest or the deserted city, I care not where I go; for I shall
never again find the parent, the friend and guardian I shall have lost."
The Englishman pressed her more closely to his breast.
CHAP. VI.
THE DEATH OF THE LAST OF THE ENGLISHMEN.
"My life is drawing rapidly to its close," faltered the old man; "my
weary pilgrimage is nearly over. Farewell, ye solitary halls and
voiceless palaces! Farewell, ye grassy streets and ivied porticoes! The
eyes that have gazed upon ye in your splendour, and watched ye gradually
passing into ruin, will soon be darkened and closed. The heart that hath
drawn so many pleasures from your unfading braveries is fast sinking
into that state of nothingness to which you all hasten. City of the
silent! he who worshipped your prosperity, and loved your decay, must
now pass from amidst your ruined dwellings. Like your time-honoured
walls, I totter and tremble, and am ready to fall upon the earth that
supports me--the ivy seems twining up my unsteady limbs, and the moss
is spreading over my ancient heart. Farewell, ye untasted pastures, ye
uncultivated fields, ye gardens of weeds and orchards of brambles--the
wildness of your looks shall welcome me no more. Farewell, ye hoary
mountains and savage rocks, ye untrodden forests and unhonored
streams--the same iron hand that hath visited ye so heavily, as heavily
must fall on me. I pass from among ye, oh land of my fathers! Your earth
shall receive me to her breast!"
The old man lay on a green bank overgrown with wild flowers, while Oriel
and Zabra supported his head. Lilya was reclining at his side, with
one of his hands at her lips, and her face hid on his breast, and she
spoke only in convulsive sobs. Tourniquet stood near him feeling his
pulse, and the professor was close beside endeavouring to administer
consolation. At a short distance stood the captain and midshipman, with
part of the crew of the Albatross, apparently taking a deep interest in
the scene. They were congregated together near a shelving hillock in the
neighbourhood of an extensive marsh. Before them was an ancient arch of
marble, and beyond that, the ruins of a structure evidently once of very
great extent and magnificence, with many statues, some standing where
they had been placed, and others lying mutilated among the heaps of
stones that were piled up around the place for a considerable distance.
The sun was declining in the heavens, and the day was bright and warm.
Ruins, in different stages of decay, were observed as far as the eye
could reach in every direction, except towards the west, where an open
space showed the distant hills, over which the sun was hastening his
descent.
It was evident that the Englishman was dying. His venerable brow was
covered with a thick perspiration, and his fine countenance had become
more pallid and anxious than it had previously been. Yet his eyes beamed
as if they had lost none of their accustomed brilliancy, and his noble
form possessed the same dignity which had first attracted the attention
of the voyagers. He was still in possession of all his faculties,
and there was an energy in his manner, and an impressiveness in his
language, which proved that the spirit that had outlived so many
generations had lost none of its youthful vigour.
"Your pulse is getting more feeble, don't you see?" said the doctor,
with much sympathy for his patient; "and I regret to be obliged to agree
with you in stating that your hours are numbered. You have lived far
beyond the usual term of life, and it must be a great consolation to
you, in your present state, to know that you have lived all that time in
honour, and worth, and virtue."
"Be grateful to Providence that you have been so long spared," observed
Fortyfolios. "The age of man is threescore and ten, and this is but
rarely attained; and yet your existence has been prolonged to nearly
double that length of time. How much have you to be thankful for!
Consider the myriads of human beings who are cut off unprepared;--who
die in infancy, in early youth, or perfect manhood--who just begin to
taste the sweets of life, and then are hurried from its enjoyment.
Consider the advantages you have enjoyed over your fellow-countrymen,
who were destroyed by war, by pestilence, and famine. You have much
reason to congratulate yourself. You have been spared, doubtless, for
some admirable purpose which our finite reason cannot comprehend.
Reflect upon these things, and you will be enabled to meet the approach
of death without apprehension."
"What are your wishes concerning the disposal of Lilya?" inquired Oriel
Porphyry. "Remember that it is impossible that she can be left alone
upon this island with the slightest comfort to herself or pleasure
to others. The offer I made to you the other day I repeat. It is not
probable that her welfare can be secured more effectively in any other
way. Let me implore you then, as you value her future happiness, to take
advantage of my accidental arrival, and give me authority to bear her to
a secure and honourable asylum."
"It must be so, oh my Lilya," exclaimed the old man affectionately.
"When I have left you, this desolate place can be no proper home for
you. You must accompany these kind strangers to their own country. There
you will find that protection and care which is necessary to make you
pass through life with the esteem of your associates. Remember, oh my
Lilya, that if you wish the spirit of the old man who has been your
constant companion in all your journeyings to rest satisfied with his
afterlife, your conduct must be irreproachable, and you must endeavour
to keep your mind free from the approach of all degrading errors. The
world is open before you; but although you will find it fruitful in
every delicious produce--though it possess the most lovely landscapes,
and is peopled by multitudes of the good and generous, there is less
ruin in the desolation you see around you than exists in those fair and
fertile shores. I part with you with much regret--deeply does my heart
feel the separation--but it must be. The evil has no remedy. It ought
to be endured without a murmur. Go then, my Lilya, to the land of the
stranger, and my blessing shall be upon your footsteps, like an eternal
sunshine, wherever they may wander. But in whatever part of the world
you may make your sojourn, forget not that the land from whence you came
exceeded in glory and in excellence all other lands that have existed
since the creation of the world. Do it no dishonour. Show that you are
worthy to acknowledge the place of your nativity; and if you should hear
the idle, the ungenerous, and the thoughtless attempt to lower her fame,
or seek to question her superiority, stand up in her defence with all
the eloquence that truth inspires and patriotism makes perfect; and
speak of the good she has done, and the wonders she has achieved, and
then the most illiberal and unjust of your audience shall find their
erroneous impressions fade before your convincing eulogy, and with
a new and better spirit they shall say, 'Would that I had been an
Englishman!'"
Lilya answered only with her sobs, which now became quicker and more
vehement.
"It must be gratifying to you to know that your country has never been
enslaved," remarked the young merchant, earnestly. "While other lands
have been degraded by the vilest spirit of despotism, the energies of
the public men of England kept her unshackled."