with the ebb and the wind strong, the hawsers were brought to the
capstan. This operation began at daylight and was carried on without
interruption till dark and lasted five days, during which the squadron
warped upwards of fifty miles, and on the evening of the fifth day
anchored off Maryland Point. The same day the public buildings of
Washington were burnt. The reflection of the fire on the heavens
was plainly seen from the ships, much to our mortification and
disappointment, as we concluded that that act was committed at the
moment of evacuating the town....
“The following morning, to our great joy, the wind became fair, and
we made all sail up the river, which now assumed a more pleasing
aspect. At five o’clock in the afternoon _Mount Vernon_--the retreat
of the illustrious Washington--opened to our view and showed us, for
the first time since we entered the Potomac, a gentleman’s residence.
Higher up the river, on the opposite side, Fort Washington appeared to
our anxious eyes; and, to our great satisfaction, it was considered
assailable.
“A little before sunset the squadron anchored just out of gun-shot;
the bomb vessels at once took up their positions to cover the frigates
in the projected attack at daylight next morning and began throwing
shells. The garrison, to our great surprise, retreated from the Fort;
and, a short time after, Fort Washington was blown up--which left the
capital of America, and the populous town of Alexandria, open to the
squadron, without the loss of a man.
“A deputation from the town arrived to treat; but Captain Gordon
declined entering into any arrangement till the squadron arrived before
Alexandria. The channel was buoyed, and next morning the 27th, we
anchored abreast of the town and dictated terms.
“Alexandria is a large well-built town and a place of great trade.
It is eight miles below Washington, where few merchant ships go, and
is, in fact, the mercantile capital, and, before the war, was a most
flourishing town, but at the time of its capture had been going rapidly
to decay. Agricultural produce was of little value; the storehouses
were full of it. We learnt that the army after destroying Barney’s
flotilla, had made a forced march on Washington, beat the Americans
at Bladensburg, destroyed the public buildings and navy yard, and
retreated to their ships. Had our little squadron been favoured by
wind, the retreat would have been made along the right bank of the
Potomac, under our protection, and the whole country in the course of
that river would have been laid under contribution.”
THE EUPHRATES
GEORGE RAWLINSON
Euphrates is probably a word of Arian origin. It is not improbable that
in common parlance the name was soon shortened to its modern form of
_Frát_, which is almost exactly what the Hebrew literation expresses.
The Euphrates is the largest, the longest, and by far the most
important of the rivers of Western Asia. It rises from two chief
sources in the Armenian Mountains, one of them at Domli, twenty-five
miles north-east of Ezeroum, and little more than a degree from the
Black Sea; the other on the northern slope of the mountain range called
_Ala-Tagh_, near the village of _Diyadin_, and not far from Mount
Ararat. Both branches flow at first towards the west or south-west,
passing through the wildest mountain-districts of Armenia; they meet
at _Kebban-Maden_, nearly in longitude 39° east from Greenwich, having
run respectively 400 and 270 miles. Here the stream formed by their
combined waters is 120 yards wide, rapid and very deep. The last part
of its course, from _Hit_ downwards, is through a low, flat, and
alluvial plain, over which it has a tendency to spread and stagnate;
above _Hit_, and from thence to Samosata, the country along its banks
is for the most part open but hilly; north of Samosata, the stream runs
in a narrow valley among high mountains, and is interrupted by numerous
rapids. The entire course is calculated at 1,780 miles, nearly 650 more
than that of the Tigris, and only 200 short of that of the Indus;
and of this distance more than two-thirds (1,200 miles) is navigable
for boats, and even, as the expedition of Col. Chesney proved, for
small steamers. The width of the river is greatest at the distance of
700 or 800 miles from its mouth. The river has also in this part of
its course the tendency already noted, to run off and waste itself in
vast marshes, which every year more and more cover the alluvial tract
west and south of the stream. From this cause its lower course is
continually varying, and it is doubted whether at present, except in
the season of the inundation, any portion of the Euphrates water is
poured into the _Shat-el-Arab_.
The annual inundation of the Euphrates is caused by the melting of
the snows in the Armenian highlands. It occurs in the month of May.
The rise of the Tigris is earlier, since it drains the southern flank
of the great Armenian chain. The Tigris scarcely overflows, but the
Euphrates inundates large tracts on both sides of its course from Hit
downwards.
The Euphrates has at all times been of some importance as furnishing
a line of traffic between the east and the west. Herodotus speaks
of persons, probably merchants, using it regularly on their passage
from the Mediterranean to Babylon. Alexander appears to have brought
to Babylon by the Euphrates route vessels of some considerable size,
which he had had made in Cyprus and Phœnicia. They were so constructed
that they could be taken to pieces, and were thus carried piecemeal to
Thapsacus, where they were put together and launched. The disadvantage
of the route was the difficulty of conveying return cargoes against the
current. According to Herodotus, the boats which descended the river
were broken to pieces and sold at Babylon, and the owners returned
on foot to Armenia, taking with them only the skins. The spices and
other products of Arabia formed their principal merchandise. On the
whole there are sufficient grounds for believing that throughout
the Babylonian and Persian periods this route was made use of by
the merchants of various nations, and that by it the east and west
continually interchanged their most important products.
The Euphrates is first mentioned in Scripture as one of the four rivers
of Eden. We next hear of it in the covenant made with Abraham where
the whole country from “the great river Euphrates” to the river of
Egypt is promised to the chosen race. In Deuteronomy and Joshua we
find this promise was borne in mind at the time of the settlement in
Canaan; and from an important passage in the first Book of Chronicles
it appears that the tribe of Reuben did actually extend itself to the
Euphrates in the times anterior to Saul. Here they came in contact with
the Hagarites, who appear upon the middle Euphrates in the Assyrian
inscription of the later empire. It is David, however, who seems for
the first time to have entered on the full enjoyment of the promise,
by the victories which he gained over Hadadezer, king of Zobah, and
his allies, the Syrians of Damascus. The object of his expedition was
“to recover his border,” and “to establish his dominion by the river
Euphrates”; and in this object he appears to have been altogether
successful; in so much that Solomon, his son, who was not a man of war,
but only inherited his father’s dominions, is said to have “reigned
over all kingdoms from the river (the Euphrates) unto the land of the
Philistines and unto the border of Egypt.” Thus during the reigns of
David and Solomon the dominion of Israel actually attained to the
full extent both ways of the original promise, the Euphrates forming
the boundary of their empire to the north-east, and the river of Egypt
to the south-west. The “Great River” had meanwhile served for some
time as a boundary between Assyria and the country of the Hittites,
but had repeatedly been crossed by the armies of the Ninevite kings,
who gradually established their sway over the countries upon its right
bank. The crossing of the river was always difficult; and at the point
where certain natural facilities fixed the ordinary passage, the strong
fort of Carchemish had been built, probably in very early times, to
command the position. Hence, when Necho determined to attempt the
permanent conquest of Syria, his march was directed upon “Carchemish by
Euphrates,” which he captured and held, thus extending the dominion of
Egypt to the Euphrates, and renewing the old glories of the Rameside
kings.
These are the chief events which Scripture distinctly connects with the
“Great River.” It is probably included among the “rivers of Babylon,”
by the side of which the Jewish captives “remembered Zion,” and wept,
and no doubt is glanced at in the threats of Jeremiah against the
Chaldean “waters” and “springs,” upon which there is to be a “drought,”
that shall “dry them up.” The fulfilment of these prophecies has been
noticed under the head of Chaldæa. The river still brings down as much
water as of old, but the precious element is wasted by neglect of man;
the various water-courses along which it was in former times conveyed,
are dry; the main channel has shrunk; and the water stagnates in
unwholesome marshes.
THE WYE
A. R. QUINTON
Among the many beautiful streams of Britain there is perhaps not one
of which has so many and so varied charms as the River Wye. Issuing
from the southern slopes of the great Welsh mountain, Plinlimmon, it
begins its life as a mountain torrent, but gradually sobers down into
a placid stream, flowing in a sinuous course of one hundred and thirty
odd miles, and receiving many tributary streamlets before it mingles
its waters with those of its big sister, the Severn, a few miles
below Chepstow. Thickly dotted along its banks are picturesque ruined
castles, abbeys, and manor-houses--each with its own story to tell of
bygone days; quaint old towns, and at least one stately cathedral, each
bearing names which often recur in the pages of history, and still
retaining signs of the age when kings, barons, and Commoners, priests
and laymen, struggled for supremacy.
Although there is much that is interesting and pleasing in the earlier
part of its course, it is at Ross that the romantic scenery of the
Wye may be said to commence. Above that town the river flows for many
miles through a fairly open valley, bordered indeed with wooded hills,
but with a broad expanse of meadow land between their feet and its
margin. But on approaching Ross the slopes draw nearer to the brink
of the stream, and for twenty miles or more the Wye flows through an
almost continuous glen, carved deeply out of a lofty and undulating
table-land.
The ancient town of Ross, our starting place, is chiefly built upon the
slope of a hill terminating on a plateau, descending steeply to the
river. Upon this plateau stands the church, with its adjoining garden,
the Prospect, which commands a lovely view over the valley of the Wye;
whence the graceful spire of the church forms a landmark for all the
country round.
The district traversed by the Wye in the first stage of its seaward
journey, from Ross to Monmouth, is an elevated upland, a region of
rolling hills shelving down towards winding valleys, whose declivities
become abrupt towards the margin of the main river. Near to this
the hills are often scarped into cliffs and carved into ridges, but
further back we have slopes and undulations, cornfields and scattered
woodlands, in marked contrast with the crags and forest-clad glades
near the edge of the swift and strong stream. The valley narrows
after leaving Ross, but the scenery improves as we come in view of
Goodrich Castle, crowning a wooded steep above the river, and Goodrich
Court, also seated on an eminence. The latter is a modern imitation
of a mediæval dwelling, and formerly contained the remarkably fine
collection of ancient armour which has since found a home in the South
Kensington Museum, and is known as the Meyrick Collection. The Castle,
which is some distance beyond the Court, was in its day a fortress of
formidable strength. There is little doubt that the keep was built
about the period 1135-1154, in the time of King Stephen.
In the time of the civil wars it was held for the King Charles I. by
Sir Henry Lingen, but was taken from him by the Parliamentarians in
1646.
[Illustration: THE WYE]
At Goodrich the river commences one of its most remarkable bends.
From Goodrich Ferry to Huntsholme Ferry is little more than a mile
overland, but by the river it is eight miles. The Wye sweeps round in
an easterly direction after Kern Bridge is passed, then turns abruptly
and flows for a mile in an opposite course, enclosing in the loop thus
formed the house and grounds of Courtfield, where, in a more ancient
mansion, “Wild Prince Hal” is reported to have passed the days of early
childhood, under the care of the Countess of Salisbury. The pretty
village of Welsh Bicknor is also passed, and then we presently come in
view of the lofty Coldwell Rocks, where the river, which for a time
has pursued a southerly direction, now doubles back almost upon its
former course, and makes the most remarkable curve in the whole of its
windings from Plinlimmon to the sea. It is far-famed Symonds’ Yat, a
limestone plateau some 600 feet above the river, which here describes
a huge elongated loop, so that after a course of between four and five
miles it returns again to within less than half a mile of its former
channel.
More extensive prospects may, doubtless, be obtained from other view
points, but for a grand combination of rocks and woodlands, this spot
may well take the palm. After leaving the Yat, the Wye bends round the
stone hills on its right bank. On both are remarkable encampments,
whilst fossil remains of hyena, elephant, stag, and other animals have
been found in a cave known as King Arthur’s Cave, on the former hill.
Very lovely is the course of the river as it flows onward through steep
and densely wooded slopes and presently brings us in view of a detached
cluster of rocks called the “Seven Sisters.” This part of the Wye is
reported to have a greater depth than any other length in its course.
At the end of the reach is the beautiful level height called King
Arthur’s Plain, which in the distance assumes the appearance of towers
belonging to an ancient castle. The high road turns away from the river
at the apex of Symonds’ Yat, but a foot-path follows the banks on
either side as far as Monmouth. Shortly before reaching that town the
wilder and more romantic part of the Wye ends and the river pursues a
straighter and less ruffled course.
The situation of the town of Monmouth is remarkably picturesque.
Beautiful hills surround it on all sides, but the valley has expanded
to allow the Monnow and the Trothy to form a junction with the Wye.
A curious old bridge spans the Monnow, bearing on its first pier an
ancient gatehouse, one of the few survivors of a defensive work once
common in England, which, though somewhat altered by being pierced
with postern arches for foot-passengers, still retains the place for
its portcullis and much of its ancient aspect. Formerly the town was
surrounded by a wall and moat, and was entered by four gates, of which
the Monnow Gate alone remains.
A short distance below Monmouth the Wye again enters a narrow glen,
hardly less beautiful if less romantic, than the gorge which it has
traversed on its course from Ross to Monmouth. The hills once more
close in upon the river, leaving but seldom even a strip of level
meadow between its margin and their slopes. The steeply wooded banks
are so wild and so continuous that at times we seem to be passing
through an undisturbed remnant of primeval forest. At Red Brook,
however, there are signs of human activity. A pretty glen here descends
from among the hills to the left bank of the Wye. By the riverside are
little quays with barges alongside, and, alas, it must also be added,
tall chimneys pouring forth smoke to mar the beauty of a lovely spot.
At Bigswier the river is spanned by an iron bridge, thrown lightly
from bank to bank, and is of sufficiently pleasing design to harmonize
with the surroundings. From this point the Wye is affected by the
tide, but not to any appreciable extent, until a few miles below, in
the neighbourhood of Tintern. On a hill overlooking Bigswier stand the
church and castle of St. Briavels. The castle was erected soon after
the Norman conquest as one of the border defenses; it stands on the
edge of the ancient Forest of Dean, and saw much rough work in its
early days. The old keep is in ruins, but the other portions are used
as a residence.
The next village encountered, on our way down the stream, is Llandago,
which nestles among gardens and orchards, and rises tier above tier
on the thickly wooded hill which rises steeply from the road beside
the river. Near by is Offa’s Chair--a point in the great earthwork
known as Offa’s Dyke, which once extended from Tidenham, across
Herefordshire and Radnorshire, to the Flintshire hills beyond Mold,
and perhaps to the coast of North Wales. As the valley again slightly
expands, shelving bands of sward, dotted with houses, announce that we
are approaching the precincts of the far-famed Tintern Abbey. First
we must pass the long and scattered village of Tintern Parva, whose
pretty white cottages and pleasant gardens extend for a mile along the
river’s bank, which here makes another of its sharp bends. Cunningly
indeed did the monks of old choose their dwelling places. There is no
spot for many a mile which so completely fulfils the requirements of
quiet and seclusion with certain mundane comforts, as that which they
have selected. As one gazes at this noble relic, and the winding Wye
stealing past it through the hills, one must accord the first place
among the classic ruins of this island, in so far as regards the beauty
of its situation. Forests were near at hand to supply them with fuel
without stint, and game for their table on days of feasting. The tidal
river would bring the barks of merchandise to their very door, and
its leaping salmon would alleviate the severity of their fast days.
Chepstow, with its castle, guarded them from marauders by the sea, and
they were far enough within the line of border fortresses to fear no
ill from incursions from the mountains of Wales.
The plan of the foundation of the Abbey is cruciform, and what remains
of the grey skeleton of the edifice affords a fine example of early
Twelfth-Century work. It was founded in the year 1131 by one Walter de
Clare “for the good of his soul, and the soul of his kinsmen,” and was
confined to the use of monks of the Cistercian order. Two inscribed
tombs in the cloisters give the names of two of the abbots, but, apart
from such fragmentary scraps of information, the history of Tintern
may be said to have perished with the Abbey. The scene on entering the
interior, is most impressive. Vaulted roof and central tower are gone,
but the arches which supported the latter are intact. The glass, of
course, has long since perished with the windows, even the mullions and
tracery are gone; ivy, ferns, and herbage, form a coping for the wall;
the greensward has replaced the pavement of stone or tiles; but still
it is hardly possible to imagine a more imposing and lovely scene than
these ruins.
Between Tintern and Chepstow the scenery of the Wye assumes an entirely
fresh character. As we approach the Wynd cliff, the grassy bed of the
river opens out into a sort of amphitheatre, and we can trace the
huge horseshoe curve swept out upon its floors by the stream, between
the base of the Wynd cliff which it washes, and the mural escarpment
of Bannagor and Tidenham Crags, which form the opposite boundary of
this great river-trench. It is a steep climb to the top of the Wynd
cliff, but the glorious prospect obtained from the summit well repays
the effort. Below is the beautiful horseshoe fold of the Wye, bounded
by richly-wooded slopes that sweep from the right with a curve in the
form of a sickle. Where the curve ends there stands an imposing wall
of rock with a reddish base, its brow of dazzling white lined with
green woodland, while far away towards the coast the point where the
river enters the Severn estuary, which is here broadening out on its
way towards the distant sea, is faintly visible. The beautiful grounds
of Piercefield lie between the Wynd cliff and Chepstow. Art has here
assisted Nature, in this domain, by carrying paths through a belt of
woodland, with outlooks cunningly contrived to command the best views.
These grounds are thrown open to the public on certain days.
The town of Chepstow occupies the right bank of the Wye, and is built
upon a slope, which descends in places rather abruptly from the general
level of the surrounding country to the river’s brink. Formerly it
was enclosed by walls, like Monmouth, considerable portions of which
are here and there preserved, especially in the neighbourhood of the
castle. One of the gates still remains in High Street. It is called the
Town Gate, and was for a long time used as a prison. Chepstow Castle is
approached by a gentle acclivity clothed with greensward.
THE INDIAN RIVER
L. C. BRYAN
This river, or sound, spans a region of a hundred and forty miles from
north to south, is salt, and yet almost without tide, neither rising
nor falling more than a few inches by the winds; lies upon the very
shore of the Atlantic, and from one to seven miles wide--a most placid,
safe and beautiful inland sea in the very teeth of a wild tempestuous
ocean.
Unlike the St. John’s or any other possible river, having no
considerable rise or fall, its bordering lands are not overflowed, and
unlike other seacoast waterways, it is not cumbered with interminable
salt marshes. Its waters beat upon a bold, often abrupt shore,
diversified into high and low lands of every grade and covered with the
luxuriant vegetation common to warm climates.
Wonderfully beautiful is Indian River. There is no other such sheet
of water in the world. Nature, with lavish hand, spread its waters
and adorned its shores. The design of the Great Master Artist is seen
in the narrow strip of land as a levee separating the river from the
Atlantic, and in the forest on the levee as a great wind-break to curb
the fierce winds of the ocean. Properly speaking, it is not a river,
but a sound, or arm of the sea. Its centre is on an air line north and
south 140 miles long, while its banks curve in and out in beautiful
bays and grottoes. A few small creeks empty into it from the west,
while the water empties into it from the Atlantic through Indian
River Inlet and Jupiter Inlet.
[Illustration: COPYRIGHT, 1901, BY DETROIT PHOTOGRAPHIC COMPANY THE
INDIAN]
It is a sea without its dangers, a river without a current, seldom
calm, but always in motion from the winds. From this constant
motion its water is kept pure. The winds of winter, coming from the
north-west, are softened and warmed by the waters of the upper St.
John’s River, and the pine forests on the west of the hammocks of this
river, and the winds of summer coming from the east, are tempered and
cooled by the Gulf Stream, making the climate most delightful in winter
and summer, and, perhaps, most to be desired of any in America.
Of the Indian River we find the following from the able pen of
ex-Governor Gleason: