sports, though many a man has been made a beggar by them; and none but
fools will waste their time on them. His lordship at length became
unquestionably mad, and was put under restraint. At length, while still
in confinement, and in a second access of his disorder, having
ascertained, by some means or other, that one of his favourite
greyhounds was to run a match for a large sum, he determined to be
present at the performance. Contriving to send his attendant from the
room, he jumped out of the window, saddled his piebald pony with his own
hands, all the grooms having gone to the field, and there being no one
to obstruct him, and suddenly made his appearance on the course, to
universal astonishment. In spite of all entreaties, he was determined to
follow the dogs, and galloped after them. In the height of the pursuit,
he was flung from his pony, fell on his head; and instantly expired.
* * * * *
The fluctuations of the public mind on the subject of the peace, have
lately influenced the stock market to a considerable degree. The
insolence of the First Consul to our ambassador, Lord Whitworth,
naturally produces an expectation of war. Early this morning, a man,
calling himself a messenger from the Foreign Office, delivered a letter
at the Mansion-house, and which he said had been sent from Lord
Hawkesbury, and which was to be given to his lordship without delay. The
letter was in these words:--"Lord Hawkesbury presents his compliments to
the Lord Mayor, and has the honour to acquaint his lordship, that the
negotiation between this country and the French republic is brought to
an amicable conclusion. Signed, Downing Street, eight o'clock, May 5,
1803."
The Lord Mayor, with a precipitancy that argued but little for the
prudence of the chief magistrate, had this letter posted up in front of
the Mansion-house. The effect on the Stock Exchange was immediate; and
consols rose eight per cent, from 63 to 71. The delusion, however, was
brief; and the intelligence of the rise had no sooner reached Downing
Street in its turn, than a messenger was dispatched to undeceive the
city, and the city-marshal was employed to read the contradiction in the
streets. The confusion in the Stock Exchange was now excessive; but the
committee adopted the only remedy in their power. They ordered the Stock
Exchange to be shut, and came to a resolution, that all bargains made in
the morning should be null and void. Immediately after, another attempt
of the same kind was made; and the Lord Mayor was requested by the
people of the Stock Exchange to inquire into its reality from the
government. The inquiry was answered by Mr Addington, of course denying
it altogether, and finishing with this rebuke to civic credulity:--"I
feel it my duty distinctly to caution your lordship against receiving
impressions of the description alluded to, through any unauthorized
channel of information." The funds immediately fell to 63 once more.
And yet it remains a delicate question, whether any committee can have
the power of declaring the bargains null and void. Of course, where the
inventors of the fraud have been parties, they have no right to gain by
their own fraud; but where individuals, wholly unacquainted with the
fraud, have gained, there seems no reason why a _bona fide_ transaction
should not stand.
* * * * *
The question of war is decided. On the 17th of May, an Order in Council,
dated yesterday, has appeared in the _Gazette_, directing general
reprisals against the ships, goods, and subjects of the French Republic.
The peace, which rather deserves the name of a suspension of arms, or
still more, the name of a prodigious act of credulity on the part of
well-meaning John Bull, and an act of desperate knavery on the part of
the First Consul and his accomplices, has lasted exactly one year and
sixteen days,--England having occupied the time in disbanding her troops
and dismantling her fleets; and France being not less busy in seizing on
Italian provinces, strengthening her defences, and making universal
preparations for war. Yet the spirit of England, though averse to
hostilities in general, is probably more prepared at this moment for a
resolute and persevering struggle than ever. The nation is now convinced
of two things: first, that it is unassailable by France--a conviction
which it has acquired during ten years of war; and next, that peace with
France, under its present government, is impossible. The trickery of the
Republican government, its intolerable insolence, the exorbitancy of its
demands, and the more than military arrogance of its language, have
penetrated every bosom in England. The nation has never engaged so
heartily in a war before. All its old wars were government against
government; but the First Consul has insulted the English people, and by
the personal bitterness and malignant acrimony of his insults, has
united every heart and hand in England against him. England has never
waged such a war before; either party must perish. If England should
fail, which heaven avert, the world will be a dungeon. If France should
be defeated, the victory will be for Europe and all mankind.
* * * * *
Lord Nelson has sailed in the _Victory_ from Portsmouth to take the
command in the Mediterranean. A French frigate has been taken; and a
despatch declaring war has been received from France, ordering the
capture of all English vessels, offering commissions to privateers, and
by an act of treachery unprecedented among nations, annexed to this
order is a command that all the English, from eighteen to sixty,
residing in France, should be arrested; the pretext being to answer as
prisoners for the French subjects who may have been made prisoners by
the ships of his Britannic Majesty, previously to any declaration of
war.
This measure has excited the deepest indignation throughout London; and
an indignation which will be shared by the empire. The English in France
have been travelling and residing under French passports, and under the
declared protection of the government. No crime has been charged upon
them; they remained, because they regarded themselves as secure, relying
on the honour of France. Their being kept as pledges for the French
prisoners captured on the seas, is a mere trifling with common sense.
The French subjects travelling or residing in England have not been
arrested. The mere technicality of a declaration of war was wholly
useless, when the ambassador of France had been ordered to leave
England. The English ambassador had left Paris on the 12th; the French
ambassador had left London on the 16th. The English order for reprisals
appeared in the _Gazette_ of the 17th. The English declaration of war
was laid before Parliament on the 18th; and the first capture, a French
lugger of fourteen guns.
THE "OLD PLAYER."
IMITATED FROM ANASTASIUS GRUeN.
BY A. LODGE.
Aloft the rustling curtain flew,
That gave the mimic scene to view;
How gaudy was the suit he wore!
His cheeks with red how plaster'd o'er!
Poor veteran! that in life's late day,
With tottering step, and locks of gray,
Essay'st each trick of antic glee,
Oh! my heart bleeds at sight of thee.
A laugh thy triumph! and so near
The closing act, and humble bier;
This thy ambition? this thy pride?
Far better thou had'st earlier died!
Though memory long has own'd decay,
And dim the intellectual ray,
Thou toil'st, from many an idle page,
To cram the feeble brain of age.
And stiff the old man's arms have grown.
And scarce his folded hands alone
Half raised in whisper'd prayer they see,
To bless the grandchild at his knee.
But here--'tis action lends a zest
To the dull, pointless, hacknied jest;
He saws the air 'mid welcome loud
Of laughter from the barren crowd.
A tear creeps down his cheek--with pain
His limbs the wasted form sustain;
Ay--weep! no thought thy tears are worth,
So the Pit shakes with boist'rous mirth.
And now the bustling scene is o'er,
The weary actor struts no more;
And hark, "The old man needed rest,"
They cry; "the arm-chair suits him best."
His lips have moved with mutter'd sound--
A pause--and still the taunt goes round;
"Oh! quite worn out--'tis doting age,
Why lags the driveller on the stage?"
Again the halting speech he tries,
But words the faltering tongue denies,
Scarce heard the low unmeaning tone,
Then silent--as tho' life were flown.
The curtain falls, and rings the bell,
They know not 'tis the Player's knell;
Nor deem their noise and echoing cry
The dirge that speeds a soul on high!
Dead in his chair the old man lay,
His colour had not pass'd away;--
Clay-cold, the ruddy cheeks declare
What hideous mockery lingers there!
Yes! there the counterfeited hue
Unfolds with moral truth to view,
How false--as every mimic part--
His life--his labours--and his art!
The canvass-wood devoid of shade,
Above, no plaintive rustling made;
That moon, that ne'er its orb has fill'd,
No pitying, dewy tears distill'd.
The troop stood round--and all the past
In one brief comment speaks at last;
"Well, he has won the hero's name,
He died upon his field of fame."
A girl with timid grace draws near,
And like the Muse to sorrow dear,
Amid the silvery tresses lays
The torn stage-wreath of paper bays!
I saw two men the bier sustain;--
Two bearers all the funeral train!
They left him in his narrow bed,
No smile was seen--no tear was shed!
THE CRUSADES.[5]
The Crusades are, beyond all question, the most extraordinary and
memorable movement that ever took place in the history of mankind.
Neither ancient nor modern times can furnish any thing even approaching
to a parallel. They were neither stimulated by the lust of conquest nor
the love of gain; they were not the results of northern poverty pressing
on southern plenty, nor do they furnish an example of civilized
discipline overcoming barbaric valour. The warriors who assumed the
Cross were not stimulated, like the followers of Cortes and Pizarro, by
the thirst for gold, nor roused, like those of Timour and Genghis Khan,
by the passion for conquest. They did not burn, like the legionary
soldiers of Rome, with the love of country, nor sigh with Alexander,
because another world did not remain to conquer. They did not issue,
like the followers of Mahomet, with the sword in one hand and the
"Koran" in the other, to convert by subduing mankind, and win the houris
of Paradise by imbruing their hands in the blood of the unbelievers. The
ordinary motives which rouse the ambition, or awaken the passions of
men, were to them unknown. One only passion warmed every bosom, one only
desire was felt in every heart. To rescue the Holy Sepulchre from the
hands of the Infidels--to restore the heritage of Christ to his
followers--to plant the Cross again on Mount Calvary--was the sole
object of their desires. For this they lived, for this they died. For
this, millions of warriors abandoned their native seats, and left their
bones to whiten the fields of Asia. For this, Europe, during two
centuries, was precipitated on Asia. To stimulate this astonishing
movement, all the powers of religion, of love, of poetry, of romance,
and of eloquence, during a succession of ages, were devoted. Peter the
Hermit shook the heart of Europe by his preaching, as the trumpet rouses
the war-horse. Poetry and romance aided the generous illusion. No maiden
would look at a lover who had not served in Palestine; few could resist
those who had. And so strongly was the European heart then stirred,--so
profound the emotions excited by those events, that their influence is
felt even at this distant period. The highest praise yet awarded to
valour is, that it recalls the lion-hearted Richard; the most envied
meed bestowed on beauty, that it rivals the fascination of Armida. No
monument is yet approached by the generous and brave with such emotion
as those now mouldering in our churches, which represent the warrior
lying with his arms crossed on his breast, in token that, during life,
he had served in the Holy Wars.
The Crusades form the true heroic age of Europe--the _Jerusalem
Delivered_ is its epic poem. Then alone its warriors fought and died
together. Banded together under a second "King of men," the forces of
Christendom combated around the Holy City against the strength of Asia
drawn to its defence. The cause was nobler, the end greater, the motives
more exalted, than those which animated the warriors of the Iliad.
Another Helen had not fired another Troy; the hope of sharing the spoils
of Phrygia had not drawn together the predatory bands of another Greece.
The characters on both sides had risen in proportion to the magnitude
and sanctity of the strife in which they were engaged. Holier motives,
more generous passions were felt, than had yet, from the beginning of
time, strung the soldier's arm. Saladin was a mightier prince than
Hector; Godfrey a nobler character than Agamemnon; Richard immeasurably
more heroic than Achilles. The strife did not continue for ten years,
but for twenty lustres; and yet, so uniform were the passions felt
through its continuance, so identical the objects contended for, that
the whole has the unity of interest of a Greek drama.
All nations bore their part in this mighty tragedy. The Franks were
there, under Godfrey of Bouillon and Raymond of Toulouse, in such
strength as to have stamped their name in the East upon Europeans in
general; the English nobly supported the ancient fame of their country
under the lion-hearted King; the Germans followed the Dukes of Austria
and Bavaria; the Flemings those of Hainault and Brabant; the Italians
and Spaniards reappeared on the fields of Roman fame; even the distant
Swedes and Norwegians, the descendants of the Goths and Normans, sent
forth their contingents to combat in the common cause of Christianity.
Nor were the forces of Asia assembled in less marvellous proportions.
The bands of Persia were there, terrible as when they destroyed the
legions of Crassus and Antony, or withstood the invasions of Heraclius
and Julian; the descendants of the followers of Sesostris appeared on
the field of ancient and forgotten glory; the swarthy visages of the
Ethiopians were seen; the distant Tartars hurried to the theatre of
carnage and plunder; the Arabs, flushed with the conquest of the Eastern
world, combated, with unconquerable resolution, for the faith of
Mahomet. The arms of Europe were tested against those of Asia, as much
as the courage of the descendants of Japhet was with the daring of the
children of Ishmael. The long lance, ponderous panoply, and weighty
war-horse of the West, was matched against the twisted hauberk, sharp
sabre, and incomparable steeds of the East; the sword crossed with the
cimeter, the dagger with the poniard; the armour of Milan was scarce
proof against the Damascus blade; the archers of England tried their
strength with the bowmen of Arabia. Nor were rousing passions, animating
recollections, and charmed desires awanting to sustain the courage on
both sides. The Christians asserted the ancient superiority of Europe
over Asia; the Saracens were proud of the recent conquest of the East,
Africa, and Southern Europe, by their arms; the former pointed to a
world subdued and long held in subjection--the latter to a world newly
reft from the infidel, and won by their sabres to the sway of the
Crescent. The one deemed themselves secure of salvation while combating
for the Cross, and sought an entrance to heaven through the breach of
Jerusalem; the other, strong in the belief of fatalism, advanced
fearless to the conflict, and strove for the houris of Paradise amidst
the lances of the Christians.
When nations so powerful, leaders so renowned, forces so vast, courage
so unshaken in the contending parties, were brought into collision,
under the influence of passions so strong, enthusiasm so exalted,
devotion so profound, it was impossible that innumerable deeds of
heroism should not have been performed on both sides. If a poet equal to
Homer had arisen in Europe to sing the conflict, the warriors of the
Crusades would have been engraven on our minds like the heroes of the
Iliad; and all future ages would have resounded with their exploits, as
they have with those of Achilles and Agamemnon, of Ajax and Ulysses, of
Hector and Diomede. But though Tasso has with incomparable beauty
enshrined in immortal verse the feelings of chivalry, and the enthusiasm
of the Crusades, he has not left a poem which has taken, or ever can
take, the general hold of the minds of men, which the Iliad has done.
The reason is, it is not founded in nature--it is the ideal--but it is
not the ideal based on the real. Considered as a work of imagination,
the _Gerusalemme Liberata_ is one of the most exquisite conceptions of
human fancy, and will for ever command the admiration of romantic and
elevated minds. But it wants that yet higher excellence, which arises
from a thorough knowledge of human nature--a graphic delineation of
actual character, a faithful picture of the real passions and sufferings
of mortality. It is the most perfect example of poetic _fancy_; but the
highest species of the epic poem is to be found not in poetic fancy, but
_poetic history_. The heroes and heroines of the _Jerusalem Delivered_
are noble and attractive. It is impossible to study them without
admiration; but they resemble real life as much as the Enchanted Forest
and spacious battle-fields, which Tasso has described in the environs of
Jerusalem, do the arid ridges, waterless ravines, and stone-covered
hills in the real scene, which have been painted by the matchless pens
of Chateaubriand and Lamartine.
The love of Tancred, the tenderness of Erminia, the heroism of Rinaldo,
are indelibly engraven in the recollection of every sensitive reader of
Tasso; but no man ever saw such characters, or any thing resembling
them, in real life. They are aerial beings, like Miranda in the
"Tempest," or Rosalind in the forest; but they recall no traits of
actual existence. The enchantment of Armida, the death of Clorinda,
belong to a different class. They rise to the highest flights of the
epic muse; for female fascination is the same in all ages; and Tasso
drew from the life in the first, while his exquisite taste and elevated
soul raised him to the highest moral sublimity and pathos which human
nature can reach in the second. Considered, however, as the poetic
history of the Crusades, as the Iliad of modern times, the _Jerusalem
Delivered_ will not bear any comparison with its immortal predecessor.
It conveys little idea of the real events; it embodies no traits of
nature; it has enshrined no traditions of the past. The distant era of
the Crusades, separated by three centuries from the time when he wrote,
had come down to Tasso, blended with the refinements of civilization,
the courtesy of chivalry, the graces of antiquity, the conceits of the
troubadours. In one respect only he has faithfully portrayed the
feelings of the time when his poem was laid. In the uniform elevation of
mind in Godfrey of Bouillon; his constant forgetfulness of self; his
sublime devotion to the objects of his mission, is to be found a true
picture of the spirit of the Crusades, as it appeared in their most
dignified champions. And it is fortunate for mankind that the noble
portrait has been arrayed in such colours as must render it as immortal
as the human race.
If poetry has failed in portraying the real spirit of the Crusades, has
history been more successful? Never was a nobler theme presented to
human ambition. We may see what may be made of it, by the inimitable
fragment of its annals which Gibbon has left in his narrative of the
storming of Constantinople by the Franks and Venetians. Only think what
a subject is presented to the soul of genius, guiding the hand, and
sustaining the effort of industry! The rise of the Mahometan power in
the East, and the subjugation of Palestine by the arms of the Saracens;
the profound indignation excited in Europe by the narratives of the
sufferings of the Christians who had made pilgrimages to the Holy
Sepulchre; the sudden and almost miraculous impulse communicated to
multitudes by the preaching of Peter the Hermit; the universal frenzy
which seized all classes, and the general desertion of fields and
cities, in the anxiety to share in the holy enterprise of rescuing it
from the infidels; the unparalleled sufferings and total destruction of
the huge multitude of men, women, and children who formed the vanguard
of Europe, and perished in the first Crusade, make up, as it were the
first act of the eventful story. Next comes the firm array of warriors
which was led by Godfrey of Bouillon in the second Crusade. Their march
through Hungary and Turkey to Constantinople; the description of the
Queen of the East, with its formidable ramparts, noble harbours, and
crafty government; the battles of Nice and Dorislaus, and marvellous
defeats of the Persians by the arms of the Christians; the long
duration, and almost fabulous termination of the siege of Antioch, by
the miracle of the holy lance; the advance to Jerusalem; the defeat of
the Egyptians before its walls, and final storming of the holy city by
the resistless prowess of the crusaders, terminate the second act of the
mighty drama.
The third commences with the establishment, in a durable manner, of the
Latins in Palestine, and the extension of its limits,--by the subjection
of Ptolemais, Edessa, and a number of strongholds towards the east. The
constitution of the monarchy by the "Assizes of Jerusalem," the most
regular and perfect model of feudal sovereignty that ever was formed;
with the singular orders of the knights-templars, hospitallers, and of
St John of Jerusalem, which in a manner organized the strength of Europe
for its defence, blend the detail of manners, institutions, and military
establishments, with the otherwise too frequent narratives of battles
and sieges. Next come the vast and almost convulsive efforts of the
Orientals to expel the Christians from their shores; the long wars and
slow degrees by which the monarchy of Palestine was abridged, and at
last its strength broken by the victorious sword of Saladin, and the
wood of the true cross lost, in the battle of Tiberias. But this
terrible event, which at once restored Jerusalem to the power of the
Saracens, again roused the declining spirit of European enterprise. A
hero rose up for the defence of the Holy Land. Richard Coeur de Lion
and Philip Augustus appeared at the head of the chivalry of England and
France. The siege of Ptolemais exceeded in heroic deeds that of Troy;
the battle of Ascalon broke the strength and humbled the pride of
Saladin; and, but for the jealousy and defection of France, Richard
would have again rescued the Holy Sepulchre from the hands of the
infidels, and perhaps permanently established a Christian monarchy on
the shores of Palestine.
The fourth Crusade, under Dandolo, when the arms of the Faithful were
turned aside from the holy enterprise by the spoils of Constantinople,
and the blind Doge leapt from his galleys on the towers of the imperial
city, forms the splendid subject of the fourth act. The marvellous
spectacle was there exhibited of a band of adventurers, not mustering
above twenty thousand combatants, carrying by storm the mighty Queen of
the East, subverting the Byzantine empire, and establishing themselves
in a durable manner, in feudal sovereignty, over the whole of Greece and
European Turkey. The wonderful powers of Gibbon, the luminous pages of
Sismondi, have thrown a flood of light on this extraordinary event, and
almost brought its principal events before our eyes. The passage of the
Dardanelles by the Christian armament; the fears of the warriors at
embarking in the mighty enterprise of attacking the imperial city; the
imposing aspect of its palaces, domes, and battlements; the sturdy
resistance of the Latin squares to the desultory charges of the
Byzantine troops; in fine, the storm of the city itself, and overthrow
of the empire of the Caesars, stand forth in the most brilliant light in
the immortal pages of these two writers. But great and romantic as this
event was, it was an episode in the history of the Crusades, it was a
diversion of its forces, a deviation from its spirit. It is an ordinary,
though highly interesting and eventful siege; very different from the
consecration of the forces of Europe to the rescuing of the Holy
Sepulchre.