CHAPTER I.

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BLACKWOOD'S EDINBURGH MAGAZINE.

No. CCCXXXVII. NOVEMBER, 1843. VOL. LIV.

CONTENTS.

ADVENTURES IN TEXAS.

TRAVELS OF KERIM KHAN.

THE BANKING-HOUSE.

THE WRONGS OF WOMEN.

MARSTON; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A STATESMAN.

CEYLON

COMMERCIAL POLICY.

A SPECULATION ON THE SENSES.

ON THE BEST MEANS OF ESTABLISHING A COMMERCIAL INTERCOURSE

BETWEEN THE ATLANTIC AND PACIFIC OCEANS.

TWO DREAMS.

THE GAME UP WITH REPEAL AGITATION.

* * * * *

ADVENTURES IN TEXAS.

NO. 1.

A SCAMPER IN THE PRAIRIE OF JACINTO.

Reader! Were you ever in a Texian prairie? Probably not. _I_ have been;

and this was how it happened. When a very young man, I found myself one

fine morning possessor of a Texas land-scrip--that is to say, a

certificate of the Galveston Bay and Texas Land Company, in which it was

stated, that in consideration of the sum of one thousand dollars, duly

paid and delivered by Mr Edward Rivers into the hands of the cashier of

the aforesaid company, he, the said Edward Rivers, was become entitled to

ten thousand acres of Texian land, to be selected by himself, or those he

should appoint, under the sole condition of not infringing on the property

or rights of the holders of previously given certificates.

Ten thousand acres of the finest land in the world, and under a heaven

compared to which, our Maryland sky, bright as it is, appears dull and

foggy! It was a tempting bait; too good a one not to be caught at by many

in those times of speculation; and accordingly, our free and enlightened

citizens bought and sold their millions of Texian acres just as readily as

they did their thousands of towns and villages in Ohio, Indiana, Illinois,

and Michigan, and their tens of thousands of shares in banks and railways.

It was a speculative fever, which has since, we may hope, been in some

degree cured. At any rate, the remedies applied have been tolerably severe.

I had not escaped the contagion, and, having got the land on paper, I

thought I should like to see it in dirty acres; so, in company with a

friend who had a similar venture, I embarked at Baltimore on board the

Catcher schooner, and, after a three weeks' voyage, arrived in Galveston

Bay.

The grassy shores of this bay, into which the river Brazos empties itself,

rise so little above the surface of the water, to which they bear a strong

resemblance in colour, that it would be difficult to discover them, were

it not for three stunted trees growing on the western extremity of a long

lizard-shaped island that stretches nearly sixty miles across the bay, and

conceals the mouth of the river. These trees are the only landmark for the

mariner; and, with their exception, not a single object--not a hill, a

house, nor so much as a bush, relieves the level sameness of the island

and adjacent continent.

After we had, with some difficulty, got on the inner side of the island, a

pilot came on board and took charge of the vessel. The first thing he did

was to run us on a sandbank, off which we got with no small labour, and by

the united exertions of sailors and passengers, and at length entered the

river. In our impatience to land, I and my friend left the schooner in a

cockleshell of a boat, which upset in the surge, and we found ourselves

floundering in the water. Luckily it was not very deep, and we escaped

with a thorough drenching.

When we had scrambled on shore, we gazed about us for some time before we

could persuade ourselves that we were actually upon land. It was, without

exception, the strangest coast we had ever seen, and there was scarcely a

possibility of distinguishing the boundary between earth and water. The

green grass grew down to the edge of the green sea, and there was only the

streak of white foam left by the latter upon the former to serve as a line

of demarcation. Before us was a plain, a hundred or more miles in extent,

covered with long, fine grass, rolling in waves before each puff of the

sea-breeze, with neither tree, nor house, nor hill, to vary the monotony

of the surface. Ten or twelve miles towards the north and north-west, we

distinguished some dark masses, which we afterwards discovered to be

groups of trees; but to our eyes they looked exactly like islands in a

green sea, and we subsequently learned that they were called islands by

the people of the country. It would have been difficult to have given them

a more appropriate name, or one better describing their appearance.

Proceeding along the shore, we came to a blockhouse situated behind a

small tongue of land projecting into the river, and decorated with the

flag of the Mexican republic, waving in all its glory from the roof. At

that period, this was the only building of which Galveston harbour could

boast. It served as custom-house and as barracks for the garrison, also as

the residence of the director of customs, and of the civil and military

intendant, as headquarters of the officer commanding, and, moreover, as

hotel and wine and spirit store. Alongside the board, on which was

depicted a sort of hieroglyphic, intended for the Mexican eagle, hung a

bottle doing duty as a sign, and the republican banner threw its protecting

shadow over an announcement of--"Brandy, Whisky, and Accommodation for Man

and Beast."

As we approached the house, we saw the whole garrison assembled before the

door. It consisted of a dozen dwarfish, spindle-shanked Mexican soldiers,

none of them so big or half so strong as American boys of fifteen, and

whom I would have backed a single Kentucky woodsman, armed with a

riding-whip, to have driven to the four winds of heaven. These heroes all

sported tremendous beards, whiskers, and mustaches, and had a habit of

knitting their brows, in the endeavour, as we supposed, to look fierce and

formidable. They were crowding round a table of rough planks, and playing

a game of cards, in which they were so deeply engrossed that they took no

notice of our approach. Their officer, however, came out of the house to

meet us.

Captain Cotton, formerly editor of the _Mexican Gazette_, now civil and

military commandant at Galveston, customs-director, harbour-master, and

tavern-keeper, and a Yankee to boot, seemed to trouble himself very little

about his various dignities and titles. He produced some capital French

and Spanish wine, which, it is to be presumed, he got duty free, and

welcomed us to Texas. We were presently joined by some of our

fellow-passengers, who seemed as bewildered as we had been at the

billiard-table appearance of the country. Indeed the place looked so

desolate and uninviting, that there was little inducement to remain on

_terra firma_, and it was with a feeling of relief that we once more found

ourselves on board the schooner.

We took three days to sail up the river Brazos to the town of Brazoria, a

distance of thirty miles. On the first day nothing but meadow land was

visible on either side of us; but, on the second, the monotonous

grass-covered surface was varied by islands of trees, and, about twenty

miles from the mouth of the river, we passed through a forest of

sycamores, and saw several herds of deer and flocks of wild turkeys. At

length we reached Brazoria, which at the time I speak of, namely, in the

year 1832, was an important city--for Texas, that is to say--consisting of

upwards of thirty houses, three of which were of brick, three of planks,

and the remainder of logs. All the inhabitants were Americans, and the

streets arranged in American fashion, in straight lines and at right

angles. The only objection to the place was, that in the wet season it

was all under water; but the Brazorians overlooked this little

inconvenience, in consideration of the inexhaustible fruitfulness of the

soil. It was the beginning of March when we arrived, and yet there was

already an abundance of new potatoes, beans, peas, and artichokes, all of

the finest sorts and most delicious flavour.

At Brazoria, my friend and myself had the satisfaction of learning that

our land-certificates, for which we had each paid a thousand dollars, were

worth exactly nothing--just so much waste paper, in short--unless we chose

to conform to a condition to which our worthy friends, the Galveston Bay

and Texas Land Company, had never made the smallest allusion.

It appeared that in the year 1824, the Mexican Congress had passed an act

for the encouragement of emigration from the United States to Texas. In

consequence of this act, an agreement was entered into with contractors,

or _empresarios_, as they call them in Mexico, who had bound themselves to

bring a certain number of settlers into Texas within a given time and

without any expense to the Mexican government. On the other hand, the

Mexican government had engaged to furnish land to these emigrants at the

rate of five square leagues to every hundred families; but to this

agreement one condition was attached, and it was, that all settlers should

be, or become, Roman Catholics. Failing this, the validity of their claims

to the land was not recognised, and they were liable to be turned out any

day at the point of the bayonet.

This information threw us into no small perplexity. It was clear that we

had been duped, completely bubbled, by the rascally Land Company; that, as

heretics, the Mexican government would have nothing to say to us; and that,

unless we chose to become converts to the Romish Church, we might whistle

for our acres, and light our pipes with the certificate. Our Yankee

friends at Brazoria, however, laughed at our dilemma, and told us that we

were only in the same plight as hundreds of our countrymen, who had come

to Texas in total ignorance of this condition, but who had not the less

taken possession of their land and settled there; that they themselves

were amongst the number, and that, although it was just as likely they

would turn negroes as Roman Catholics, they had no idea of being turned

out of their houses and plantations; that, at any rate, if the Mexicans

tried it, they had their rifles with them, and should be apt, they

reckoned, to burn powder before they allowed themselves to be kicked off

such an almighty fine piece of soil. So, after a while, we began to think,

that as we had paid our money and come so far, we might do as others had

done before us--occupy our land and wait the course of events. The next

day we each bought a horse, or _mustang_, as they call them there, which

animals were selling at Brazoria for next to nothing, and rode out into

the prairie to look for a convenient spot to settle.

These mustangs are small horses, rarely above fourteen hands high, and are

descended from the Spanish breed introduced by the original conquerors of

the country. During the three centuries that have elapsed since the

conquest of Mexico, they have increased and multiplied to an extraordinary

extent, and are to be found in vast droves in the Texian prairies,

although they are now beginning to become somewhat scarcer. They are taken

with the _lasso_, concerning which instrument or weapon I will here say a

word or two, notwithstanding that it has been often described.

The lasso is usually from twenty to thirty feet long, very flexible, and

composed of strips of twisted ox hide. One end is fastened to the saddle,

and the other, which forms a running noose, held in the hand of the hunter,

who, thus equipped, rides out into the prairie. When he discovers a troop

of wild horses, he manoeuvres to get to windward of them, and then to

approach as near them as possible. If he is an experienced hand, the

horses seldom or never escape him, and as soon as he finds himself within

twenty or thirty feet of them, he throws the noose with unerring aim over

the neck of the one he has selected for his prey. This done, he turns his

own horse sharp round, gives him the spur, and gallops away, dragging his

unfortunate captive after him, breathless, and with his windpipe so

compressed by the noose, that he is unable to make the smallest resistance,

and after a few yards, falls headlong to the ground, and lies motionless

and almost lifeless, sometimes indeed badly hurt and disabled. From this

day forward, the horse which has been thus caught never forgets the lasso;

the mere sight of it makes him tremble in every limb; and, however wild he

may be, it is sufficient to show it to him, or lay it on his neck, to

render him as tame and docile as a lamb.

The horse taken, next comes the breaking in, which is effected in a no

less brutal manner than his capture. The eyes of the unfortunate animal

are covered with a bandage, and a tremendous bit, a pound weight or more,

clapped into his mouth; the horsebreaker puts on a pair of spurs six

inches long, and with rowels like penknives, and jumping on his back,

urges him to his very utmost speed. If the horse tries to rear, or turns

restive, one pull, and not a very hard one either, at the instrument of

torture they call a bit, is sufficient to tear his mouth to shreds, and

cause the blood to flow in streams. I have myself seen horses' teeth

broken with these barbarous bits. The poor beast whinnies and groans with

pain and terror; but there is no help for him, the spurs are at his flanks,

and on he goes full gallop, till he is ready to sink from fatigue and

exhaustion. He then has a quarter of an hour's rest allowed him; but

scarcely does he begin to recover breath, which has been ridden and

spurred out of his body, when he is again mounted, and has to go through

the same violent process as before. If he breaks down during this rude

trial, he is either knocked on the head or driven away as useless; but if

he holds out, he is marked with a hot iron, and left to graze on the

prairie. Henceforward, there is no particular difficulty in catching him

when wanted; the wildness of the horse is completely punished out of him,

but for it is substituted the most confirmed vice and malice that it is

possible to conceive. These mustangs are unquestionably the most deceitful

and spiteful of all the equine race. They seem to be perpetually looking

out for an opportunity of playing their master a trick; and very soon

after I got possession of mine, I was nearly paying for him in a way that

I had certainly not calculated upon.

We were going to Bolivar, and had to cross the river Brazos. I was the

last but one to get into the boat, and was leading my horse carelessly by

the bridle. Just as I was about to step in, a sudden jerk, and a cry of

'mind your beast!' made me jump on one side; and lucky it was that I did

so. My mustang had suddenly sprung back, reared up, and then thrown

himself forward upon me with such force and fury, that, as I got out of

his way, his fore feet went completely through the bottom of the boat. I

never in my life saw an animal in such a paroxysm of rage. He curled up

his lip till his whole range of teeth was visible, his eyes literally shot

fire, while the foam flew from his mouth, and he gave a wild screaming

neigh that had something quite diabolical in its sound. I was standing

perfectly thunderstruck at this scene, when one of the party took a lasso

and very quietly laid it over the animal's neck. The effect was really

magical. With closed mouth, drooping ears, and head low, there stood the

mustang, as meek and docile as any old jackass. The change was so sudden

and comical, that we all burst out laughing; although, when I came to

reflect on the danger I had run, it required all my love of horses to

prevent me from shooting the brute upon the spot.

Mounted upon this ticklish steed and in company with my friend, I made

various excursions to Bolivar, Marion, Columbia, Anahuac, incipient cities

consisting of from five to twenty houses. We also visited numerous

plantations and clearings, to the owners of some of which we were known,

or had messages of introduction; but either with or without such

recommendations, we always found a hearty welcome and hospitable reception,

and it was rare that we were allowed to pay for our entertainment.

We arrived one day at a clearing which lay a few miles off the way from

Harrisburg to San Felipe de Austin, and belonged to a Mr Neal. He had been

three years in the country, occupying himself with the breeding of cattle,

which is unquestionably the most agreeable, as well as profitable,

occupation that can be followed in Texas. He had between seven and eight

hundred head of cattle, and from fifty to sixty horses, all mustangs. His

plantation, like nearly all the plantations in Texas at that time, was as

yet in a very rough state, and his house, although roomy and comfortable

enough inside, was built of unhewn tree-trunks, in true back-woodsman

style. It was situated on the border of one of the islands, or groups of

trees, and stood between two gigantic sycamores, which sheltered it from

the sun and wind. In front, and as far as could be seen, lay the prairie,

covered with its waving grass and many-coloured flowers, behind the

dwelling arose the cluster of forest trees in all their primeval majesty,

laced and bound together by an infinity of wild vines, which shot their

tendrils and clinging branches hundreds of feet upwards to the very top of

the trees, embracing and covering the whole island with a green network,

and converting it into an immense bower of vine leaves, which would have

been no unsuitable abode for Bacchus and his train.

These islands are one of the most enchanting features of Texian scenery.

Of infinite variety and beauty of form, and unrivalled in the growth and

magnitude of the trees that compose them, they are to be found of all

shapes--circular, parallelograms, hexagons, octagons--some again twisting

and winding like dark-green snakes over the brighter surface of the

prairie. In no park or artificially laid out grounds, would it be possible

to find any thing equalling these natural shrubberies in beauty and

symmetry. In the morning and evening especially, when surrounded by a sort

of veil of light-greyish mist, and with the horizontal beams of the rising

or setting sun gleaming through them, they offer pictures which it is

impossible to get weary of admiring.

Mr Neal was a jovial Kentuckian, and he received us with the greatest

hospitality, only asking in return all the news we could give him from the

States. It is difficult to imagine, without having witnessed it, the

feverish eagerness and curiosity with which all intelligence from their

native country is sought after and listened to by these dwellers in the

desert. Men, women, and children, crowded round us; and though we had

arrived in the afternoon, it was near sunrise before we could escape from

the enquiries by which we were overwhelmed, and retire to the beds that

had been prepared for us.

I had not slept very long when I was roused by our worthy host. He was

going out to catch twenty or thirty oxen, which were wanted for the market

at New Orleans. As the kind of chase which takes place after these animals

is very interesting, and rarely dangerous, we willingly accepted the

invitation to accompany him, and having dressed and breakfasted in all

haste, got upon our mustangs and rode of into the prairie.

The party was half a dozen strong, consisting of Mr Neal, my friend and

myself, and three negroes. What we had to do was to drive the cattle,

which were grazing on the prairie in herds of from thirty to fifty head,

to the house, and then those which were selected for the market were to be

taken with the lasso and sent off to Brazoria.

After riding four or five miles, we came in sight of a drove, splendid

animals, standing very high, and of most symmetrical form. The horns of

these cattle are of unusual length, and, in the distance, have more the

appearance of stag's antlers than bull's horns. We approached the herd

first to within a quarter of a mile. They remained quite quiet. We rode

round them, and in like manner got in rear of a second and third drove,

and then began to spread out, so as to form a half circle, and drive the

cattle towards the house.

Hitherto my mustang had behaved exceedingly well, cantering freely along

and not attempting to play any tricks. I had scarcely, however, left the

remainder of the party a couple of hundred yards, when the devil by which

he was possessed began to wake up. The mustangs belonging to the

plantation were grazing some three quarters of a mile off; and no sooner

did my beast catch sight of them, than he commenced practising every

species of jump and leap that it is possible for a horse to execute, and

many of a nature so extraordinary, that I should have thought no brute

that ever went on four legs would have been able to accomplish them. He

shied, reared, pranced, leaped forwards, backwards, and sideways; in short,

played such infernal pranks, that, although a practised rider, I found it

no easy matter to keep my seat. I began heartily to regret that I had

brought no lasso with me, which would have tamed him at once, and that,

contrary to Mr Neal's advice, I had put on my American bit instead of a

Mexican one. Without these auxiliaries all my horsemanship was useless.

The brute galloped like a mad creature some five hundred yards, caring

nothing for my efforts to stop him; and then, finding himself close to the

troop of mustangs, he stopped suddenly short, threw his head between his

fore legs, and his hind feet into the air, with such vicious violence,

that I was pitched clean out of the saddle. Before I well knew where I was,

I had the satisfaction of seeing him put his fore feet on the bridle, pull

bit and bridoon out of his mouth, and then, with a neigh of exultation,

spring into the midst of the herd of mustangs.

I got up out of the long grass in a towering passion. One of the negroes

who was nearest to me came galloping to my assistance, and begged me to

let the beast run for a while, and that when Anthony, the huntsman, came,

he would soon catch him. I was too angry to listen to reason, and I

ordered him to get off his horse, and let me mount. The black begged and

prayed of me not to ride after the brute; and Mr Neal, who was some

distance off, shouted to me, as loud as he could, for Heaven's sake, to

stop--that I did not know what it was to chase a wild horse in a Texian

prairie, and that I must not fancy myself in the meadows of Louisiana or

Florida. I paid no attention to all this--I was in too great a rage at the

trick the beast had played me, and, jumping on the negro's horse, I

galloped away like mad.

My rebellious steed was grazing quietly with his companions, and he

allowed me to come within a couple of hundred paces of him; but just as I

had prepared the lasso, which was fastened to the negro's saddle-bow, he

gave a start, and galloped off some distance further, I after him. Again

he made a pause, and munched a mouthful of grass--then off again for

another half mile. This time I had great hopes of catching him, for he let

me come within a hundred yards; but, just as I was creeping up to him,

away he went with one of his shrill neighs. When I galloped fast he went

faster, when I rode slowly he slackened pace. At least ten times did he

let me approach him within a couple of hundred yards, without for that

being a bit nearer getting hold of him. It was certainly high time to

desist from such a mad chase, but I never dreamed of doing so; and indeed

the longer it lasted, the more obstinate I got. I rode on after the beast,

who kept letting me come nearer and nearer, and then darted off again with

his loud-laughing neigh. It was this infernal neigh that made me so

savage--there was something so spiteful and triumphant in it, as though

the animal knew he was making a fool of me, and exulted in so doing. At

last, however, I got so sick of my horse-hunt that I determined to make a

last trial, and, if that failed, to turn back. The runaway had stopped

near one of the islands of trees, and was grazing quite close to its edge.

I thought that if I were to creep round to the other side of the island,

and then steal across it, through the trees, I should be able to throw the

lasso over his head, or, at any rate, to drive him back to the house. This

plan I put in execution--rode round the island, then through it, lasso in

hand, and as softly as if I had been riding over eggs. To my consternation,

however, on arriving at the edge of the trees, and at the exact spot where,

only a few minutes before, I had seen the mustang grazing, no signs of him

were to be perceived. I made the circuit of the island, but in vain--the

animal had disappeared. With a hearty curse, I put spurs to my horse, and

started off to ride back to the plantation.

Neither the plantation, the cattle, nor my companions, were visible, it is

true; but this gave me no uneasiness. I felt sure that I knew the

direction in which I had come, and that the island I had just left was one

which was visible from the house, while all around me were such numerous

tracks of horses, that the possibility of my having lost my way never

occurred to me, and I rode on quite unconcernedly.

After riding for about an hour, however, I began to find the time rather

long. I looked at my watch. It was past one o'clock. We had started at

nine, and, allowing an hour and a half to have been spent in finding the

cattle, I had passed nearly three hours in my wild and unsuccessful hunt.

I began to think that I must have got further from the plantation than I

had as yet supposed.

It was towards the end of March, the day clear and warm, just like a

May-day in the Southern States. The sun was now shining brightly out, but

the early part of the morning had been somewhat foggy; and, as I had only

arrived at the plantation the day before, and had passed the whole

afternoon and evening indoors, I had no opportunity of getting acquainted

with the bearings of the house. This reflection began to make me rather

uneasy, particularly when I remembered the entreaties of the negro, and

the loud exhortations Mr Neal addressed to me as I rode away. I said to

myself, however, that I could not be more than ten or fifteen miles from

the plantation, that I should soon come in sight of the herds of cattle,

and that then there would be no difficulty in finding my way. But when I

had ridden another hour without seeing the smallest sign either of man or

beast, I got seriously uneasy. In my impatience, I abused poor Neal for

not sending somebody to find me. His huntsman, I had heard, was gone to

Anahuac, and would not be back for two or three days; but he might have

sent a couple of his lazy negroes. Or, if he had only fired a shot or two

as a signal. I stopped and listened, in hopes of hearing the crack of a

rifle. But the deepest stillness reigned around, scarcely the chirp of a

bird was heard--all nature seemed to be taking the siesta. As far as the

eye could reach was a waving sea of grass, here and there an island of

trees, but not a trace of a human being. At last I thought I had made a

discovery. The nearest clump of trees was undoubtedly the same which I had

admired and pointed out to my companions soon after we had left the house.

It bore a fantastical resemblance to a snake coiled up and about to dart

upon its prey. About six or seven miles from the plantation we had passed

it on our right hand, and if I now kept it upon my left, I could not fail

to be going in a proper direction. So said, so done. I trotted on most

perseveringly towards the point of the horizon where I felt certain the

house must lie. One hour passed, then a second, then a third; every now

and then I stopped and listened, but nothing was audible, not a shot nor a

shout. But although I heard nothing, I saw something which gave me no

great pleasure. In the direction in which we had ridden out, the grass was

very abundant and the flowers scarce; whereas the part of the prairie in

which I now found myself presented the appearance of a perfect

flower-garden, with scarcely a square foot of green to be seen. The most

variegated carpet of flowers I ever beheld lay unrolled before me; red,

yellow, violet, blue, every colour, every tint was there; millions of the

most magnificent prairie roses, tuberoses, asters, dahlias, and fifty

other kinds of flowers. The finest artificial garden in the world would

sink into insignificance when compared with this parterre of nature's own

planting. My horse could hardly make his way through the wilderness of

flowers, and I for a time remained lost in admiration of this scene of

extraordinary beauty. The prairie in the distance looked as if clothed

with rainbows that waved to and fro over its surface.

But the difficulties and anxieties of my situation soon banished all other

thoughts, and I rode on with perfect indifference through a scene, that,

under other circumstances, would have captivated my entire attention. All

the stories that I had heard of mishaps in these endless prairies,

recurred in vivid colouring to my memory, not mere backwoodsman's legends,

but facts well authenticated by persons of undoubted veracity, who had

warned me, before I came to Texas, against venturing without guide or

compass into these dangerous wilds. Even men who had been long in the

country, were often known to lose themselves, and to wander for days and

weeks over these oceans of grass, where no hill or variety of surface

offers a landmark to the traveller. In summer and autumn, such a position

would have one danger the less, that is, there would be no risk of dying

of hunger; for at those seasons the most delicious fruits, grapes, plums,

peaches, and others, are to be found in abundance. But we were now in

early spring, and although I saw numbers of peach and plum-trees, they

were only in blossom. Of game also there was plenty, both fur and feather,

but I had no gun, and nothing appeared more probable than that I should

die of hunger, although surrounded by food, and in one of the most

fruitful countries in the world. This thought flashed suddenly across me,

and for a moment my heart sunk within me as I first perceived the real

danger of my position.

After a time, however, other ideas came to console me. I had been already

four weeks in the country, and had ridden over a large slice of it in

every direction, always through prairies, and I had never had any

difficulty in finding my way. True, but then I had always had a compass,

and been in company. It was this sort of over-confidence and feeling of

security, that had made me adventure so rashly, and spite of all warning,

in pursuit of the mustang. I had not waited to reflect, that a little more

than four weeks' experience was necessary to make one acquainted with the

bearings of a district three times as big as New York State. Still I

thought it impossible that I should have got so far out of the right track

as not to be able to find the house before nightfall, which was now,

however, rapidly approaching. Indeed, the first shades of evening, strange

as it may seem, gave this persuasion increased strength. Home bred and

gently nurtured as I was, my life before coming to Texas had been by no

means one of adventure, and I was so used to sleep with a roof over my

head, that when I saw it getting dusk I felt certain I could not be far

from the house. The idea fixed itself so strongly in my mind, that I

involuntarily spurred my mustang, and trotted on, peering out through the

now fast-gathering gloom, in expectation of seeing a light. Several times

I fancied I heard the barking of the dogs, the cattle lowing, or the merry

laugh of the children.

"Hurrah! there is the house at last--I see the lights in the parlour

windows."

I urged my horse on, but when I came near the house, it proved to be an

island of trees. What I had taken for candles were fire-flies, that now

issued in swarms from out of the darkness of the islands, and spread

themselves over the prairie, darting about in every direction, their small

blue flames literally lighting up the plain, and making it appear as if I

were surrounded by a sea of Bengal fire. It is impossible to conceive

anything more bewildering than such a ride as mine, on a warm March night,

through the interminable, never varying prairie. Overhead the deep blue

firmament, with its hosts of bright stars; at my feet, and all around, an

ocean of magical light, myriads of fire-flies floating upon the soft still

air. To me it was like a scene of enchantment. I could distinguish every

blade of grass, every flower, each leaf on the trees, but all in a strange

unnatural sort of light, and in altered colours. Tuberoses and asters,

prairie roses and geraniums, dahlias and vine branches, began to wave and

move, to range themselves in ranks and rows. The whole vegetable world

around me seemed to dance, as the swarms of living lights passed over it.

Suddenly out of the sea of fire sounded a loud and long-drawn note. I

stopped, listened, and gazed around me. It was not repeated, and I rode on.

Again the same sound, but this time the cadence was sad and plaintive.

Again I made a halt, and listened. It was repeated a third time in a yet

more melancholy tone, and I recognised it as the cry of a whip-poor-will.

Presently it was answered from a neighbouring island by a Katydid. My

heart leaped for joy at hearing the note of this bird, the native minstrel

of my own dear Maryland. In an instant the house where I was born stood

before the eyesight of my imagination. There were the negro huts, the

garden, the plantation, every thing exactly as I had left it. So powerful

was the illusion, that I gave my horse the spur, persuaded that my

father's house lay before me. The island, too, I took for the grove that

surrounded our house. On reaching its border, I literally dismounted, and

shouted out for Charon Tommy. There was a stream running through our

plantation, which, for nine months out of the twelve, was only passable by

means of a ferry, and the old negro who officiated as ferryman was

indebted to me for the above classical cognomen. I believe I called twice,

nay, three times, but no Charon Tommy answered; and I awoke as from a

pleasant dream, somewhat ashamed of the length to which my excited

imagination had hurried me.

I now felt so weary and exhausted, so hungry and thirsty, and, withal, my

mind was so anxious and harassed by my dangerous position, and the

uncertainty how I should get out of it, that I was really incapable of

going any further. I felt quite bewildered, and stood for some time gazing

before me, and scarcely even troubling myself to think. At length I

mechanically drew my clasp-knife from my pocket, and set to work to dig a

hole in the rich black soil of the prairie. Into this hole I put the

knotted end of my lasso, and then pushing it in the earth and stamping it

down with my foot, as I had seen others do since I had been in Texas, I

passed the noose over my mustang's neck, and left him to graze, while I

myself lay down outside the circle which the lasso would allow him to

describe. An odd manner, it may seem, of tying up a horse; but the most

convenient and natural one in a country where one may often find

one's-self fifty miles from any house, and five-and-twenty from a tree or

bush.

I found it no easy matter to sleep, for on all sides I heard the howling

of wolves and jaguars, an unpleasant serenade at any time, but most of all

so in the prairie, unarmed and defenceless as I was. My nerves, too, were

all in commotion, and I felt so feverish, that I do not know what I should

have done, had I not fortunately remembered that I had my cigar-case and a

roll of tobacco, real Virginia _dulcissimus_, in my pocket--invaluable

treasures in my present situation, and which on this, as on many other

occasions, did not fail to soothe and calm my agitated thoughts.

Luckily, too, being a tolerably confirmed smoker, I carried a flint and

steel with me; for otherwise, although surrounded by lights, I should have

been sadly at a loss for fire. A couple of Havannahs did me an infinite

deal of good, and after a while I sunk into the slumber of which I stood

so much in need.

The day was hardly well broken when I awoke. The refreshing sleep I had

enjoyed had given me new energy and courage. I felt hungry enough, to be

sure, but light and cheerful, and I hastened to dig up the end of the

lasso, and saddled my horse. I trusted that, though I had been condemned

to wander over the prairie the whole of the preceding day, as a sort of

punishment for my rashness, I should now have better luck, and having

expiated my fault, be at length allowed to find my way. With this hope I

mounted my mustang, and resumed my ride.

I passed several beautiful islands of pecan, plum, and peach trees. It is

a peculiarity worthy of remark, that these islands are nearly always of

one sort of tree. It is very rare to meet with one where there are two

sorts. Like the beasts of the forest, that herd together according to

their kind, so does this wild vegetation preserve itself distinct in its

different species. One island will be entirely composed of live oaks,

another of plum, and a third of pecan trees; the vine only is common to

them all, and embraces them all alike with its slender but tenacious

branches. I rode through several of these islands. They were perfectly

free from bushes and brushwood, and carpeted with the most beautiful

verdure it is possible to behold. I gazed at them in astonishment. It

seemed incredible that nature, abandoned to herself, should preserve

herself so beautifully clean and pure, and I involuntarily looked around

me for some trace of the hand of man. But none was there. I saw nothing

but herds of deer, that gazed wonderingly at me with their large clear

eyes, and when I approached too near, galloped off in alarm. What would I

not have given for an ounce of lead, a charge of powder, and a Kentucky

rifle? Nevertheless, the mere sight of the beasts gladdened me, and raised

my spirits. They were a sort of society. Something of the same feeling

seemed to be imparted to my horse, who bounded under me, and neighed

merrily as he cantered along in the fresh spring morning.

I was now skirting the side of an island of trees of greater extent than

most of those I had hitherto seen. On reaching the end of it, I suddenly

came in sight of an object presenting so extraordinary an appearance as

far to surpass any of the natural wonders I had as yet beheld, either in

Texas or the United States.

At the distance of about two miles rose a colossal mass, in shape somewhat

like a monumental mound or tumulus, and apparently of the brightest silver.

As I came in view of it, the sun was just covered by a passing cloud, from

the lower edge of which the bright rays shot down obliquely upon this

extraordinary phenomenon, lighting it up in the most brilliant manner. At

one moment it looked like a huge silver cone; then took the appearance of

an illuminated castle with pinnacles and towers, or the dome of some great

cathedral; then of a gigantic elephant, covered with trappings, but always

of solid silver, and indescribably magnificent. Had all the treasures of

the earth been offered me to say what it was, I should have been unable to

answer. Bewildered by my interminable wanderings in the prairie, and

weakened by fatigue and hunger, a superstitious feeling for a moment came

over me, and I half asked myself whether I had not reached some enchanted

region, into which the evil spirit of the prairie was luring me to

destruction by appearances of supernatural strangeness and beauty.

Banishing these wild imaginings, I rode on in the direction of this

strange object; but it was only when I came within a very short distance

that I was able to distinguish its nature. It was a live oak of most

stupendous dimensions, the very patriarch of the prairie, grown grey in

the lapse of ages. Its lower limbs had shot out in an horizontal, or

rather a downward-slanting direction; and, reaching nearly to the ground,

formed a vast dome several hundred feet in diameter, and full a hundred

and thirty feet high. It had no appearance of a tree, for neither trunk

nor branches were visible. It seemed a mountain of whitish-green scales,

fringed with long silvery moss, that hung like innumerable beards from

every bough and twig. Nothing could better convey the idea of immense and

incalculable age than the hoary beard and venerable appearance of this

monarch of the woods. Spanish moss of a silvery grey covered the whole

mass of wood and foliage, from the topmost bough down to the very ground;

short near the top of the tree, but gradually increasing in length as it

descended, until it hung like a deep fringe from the lower branches. I

separated the vegetable curtain with my hands, and entered this august

temple with feelings of involuntary awe. The change from the bright

sunlight to the comparative darkness beneath the leafy vault, was so great,

that I at first could scarcely distinguish any thing. When my eyes got

accustomed to the gloom, however, nothing could be more beautiful than the

effect of the sun's rays, which, in forcing their way through the silvered

leaves and mosses, took as many varieties of colour as if they had passed

through a window of painted glass, and gave the rich, subdued, and solemn

light of some old cathedral.

The trunk of the tree rose, free from all branches, full forty feet from

the ground, rough and knotted, and of such enormous size that it might

have been taken for a mass of rock, covered with moss and lichens, while

many of its boughs were nearly as thick as the trunk of any tree I had

ever previously seen.

I was so absorbed in the contemplation of the vegetable giant, that for a

short space I almost forgot my troubles; but as I rode away from the tree

they returned to me in full force, and my reflections were certainly of no

very cheering or consolatory nature. I rode on, however, most

perseveringly. The morning slipped away; it was noon, the sun stood high

in the cloudless heavens. My hunger had now increased to an insupportable

degree, and I felt as if something were gnawing within me, something like

a crab tugging and riving at my stomach with his sharp claws. This feeling

left me after a time, and was replaced by a sort of squeamishness, a faint

sickly sensation. But if hunger was bad, thirst was worse. For some hours

I suffered martyrdom. At length, like the hunger, it died away, and was

succeeded by a feeling of sickness. The thirty hours' fatigue and fasting

I had endured were beginning to tell upon my naturally strong nerves: I

felt my reasoning powers growing weaker, and my presence of mind leaving

me. A feeling of despondency came over me--a thousand wild fancies passed

through my bewildered brain; while at times my head grew dizzy, and I

reeled in my saddle like a drunken man. These weak fits, as I may call

them, did not last long; and each time that I recovered I spurred my

mustang onwards, but it was all in vain--ride as far and as fast as I

would, nothing was visible but a boundless sea of grass.

At length I gave up all hope, except in that God whose almighty hand was

so manifest in the beauteous works around me. I let the bridle fall on my

horse's neck, clasped my hands together, and prayed as I had never before

prayed, so heartily and earnestly. When I had finished my prayer I felt

greatly comforted. It seemed to me, that here in the wilderness, which man

had not as yet polluted, I was nearer to God, and that my petition would

assuredly be heard. I gazed cheerfully around, persuaded that I should yet

escape from the peril in which I stood. As I did so, with what

astonishment and inexpressible delight did I perceive, not ten paces off,

the track of a horse!

The effect of this discovery was like an electric shock to me, and drew a

cry of joy from my lips that made my mustang start and prick his ears.

Tears of delight and gratitude to Heaven came into my eyes, and I could

scarcely refrain from leaping off my horse and kissing the welcome signs

that gave me assurance of succour. With renewed strength I galloped

onwards; and had I been a lover flying to rescue his mistress from an

Indian war party, I could not have displayed more eagerness than I did in

following up the trail of an unknown traveller.

Never had I felt so thankful to Providence as at that moment. I uttered

thanksgivings as I rode on, and contemplated the wonderful evidences of

his skill and might that offered themselves to me on all sides. The aspect

of every thing seemed changed, and I gazed with renewed admiration at the

scenes through which I passed, and which I had previously been too

preoccupied by the danger of my position to notice. The beautiful

appearance of the islands struck me particularly as they lay in the

distance, seeming to swim in the bright golden beams of the noonday sun,

like dark spots of foliage in the midst of the waving grasses and

many-hued flowers of the prairie. Before me lay the eternal flower-carpet

with its innumerable asters, tuberoses, and mimosas, that delicate plant

which, when you approach it, lifts its head, seems to look at you, and

then droops and shrinks back in alarm. This I saw it do when I was two or

three paces from it, and without my horse's foot having touched it. Its

long roots stretch out horizontally in the ground, and the approaching

tread of a horse or man is communicated through them to the plant, and

produces this singular phenomenon. When the danger is gone by, and the

earth ceases to vibrate, the mimosa may be seen to raise its head again,

but quivering and trembling, as though not yet fully recovered from its

fears.

I had ridden on for three or four hours, following the track I had so

fortunately discovered, when I came upon the trace of a second horseman,

who appeared to have here joined the first traveller. It ran in a parallel

direction to the one I was following. Had it been possible to increase my

joy, this discovery would have done so. I could now entertain no doubt

that I had hit upon the way out of this terrible prairie. It struck me as

being rather singular that two travellers should have met in this immense

plain, which so few persons traversed; but that they had done so was

certain, for there was the track of the two horses as plain as possible.

The trail was fresh, too, and it was evidently not long since the horsemen

had passed. It might still be possible to overtake them, and in this hope

I rode on faster than ever, as fast, at least, as my mustang could carry

me through the thick grass and flowers, which in many places were four or

five feet high.

During the next three hours I passed over some ten or twelve miles of

ground, but although the trail still lay plainly and broadly marked before

me, I say nothing of those who had left it. Still I persevered. I must

overtake them sooner or later, provided I did not lose the track; and that

I was most careful not to do, keeping my eyes fixed upon the ground as I

rode along, and never deviating from the line which the travellers had

followed.

In this manner the day passed away, and evening approached. I still felt

hope and courage; but my physical strength began to give way. The gnawing

sensation of hunger increased. I was sick and faint; my limbs became heavy,

my blood seemed chilled in my veins, and all my senses appeared to grow

duller under the influence of exhaustion, thirst, and hunger. My eyesight

became misty, my hearing less acute, the bridle felt cold and heavy in my

fingers.

Still I rode on. Sooner or later I must find an outlet; the prairie must

have an end somewhere. It is true the whole of Southern Texas is one vast

prairie; but then there are rivers flowing through it, and if I could

reach one of those, I should not be far from the abodes of men. By

following the streams five or six miles up or down, I should be sure to

find a plantation.

As I was thus reasoning with, and encouraging myself, I suddenly perceived

the traces of a third horse, running parallel to the two which I had been

so long following. This was indeed encouragement. It was certain that

three travellers, arriving from different points of the prairie, and all

going in the same direction, must have some object, must be repairing to

some village or clearing, and where or what this was had now become

indifferent to me, so long as I once more found myself amongst my

fellow-men. I spurred on my mustang, who was beginning to flag a little in

his pace with the fatigue of our long ride.

The sun set behind the high trees of an island that bounded my view

westward, and there being little or no twilight in those southerly

latitudes, the broad day was almost instantaneously replaced by the

darkness of night. I could proceed no further without losing the track of

the three horsemen; and as I happened to be close to an island, I fastened

my mustang to a branch with the lasso, and threw myself on the grass under

the trees.

This night, however, I had no fancy for tobacco. Neither the cigars nor

the _dulcissimus_ tempted me. I tried to sleep, but in vain. Once or twice

I began to doze, but was roused again by violent cramps and twitchings in

all my limbs. There is nothing more horrible than a night passed in the

way I passed that one, faint and weak, enduring torture from hunger and

thirst, striving after sleep and never finding it. I can only compare the

sensation of hunger I experienced to that of twenty pairs of pincers

tearing at my stomach.

With the first grey light of morning I got up and prepared for departure.

It was a long business, however, to get my horse ready. The saddle, which

at other times I could throw upon his back with two fingers, now seemed

made of lead, and it was as much as I could do to lift it. I had still

more difficulty to draw the girths tight; but at last I accomplished this,

and scrambling upon my beast, rode off. Luckily my mustang's spirit was

pretty well taken out of him by the last two days' work; for if he had

been fresh, the smallest spring on one side would have sufficed to throw

me out of the saddle. As it was, I sat upon him like an automaton, hanging

forward over his neck, some times grasping the mane, and almost unable to

use either rein or spur.

I had ridden on for some hours in this helpless manner, when I came to a

place where the three horsemen whose track I was following had apparently

made a halt, perhaps passed the previous night. The grass was trampled and

beaten down in a circumference of some fifty or sixty feet, and there was

a confusion in the horse tracks as if they had ridden backwards and

forwards. Fearful of losing the right trace, I was looking carefully about

me to see in what direction they had recommenced their journey, when I

noticed something white amongst the long grass. I got off my horse to pick

it up. It was a piece of paper with my own name written upon it; and I

recognized it as the back of a letter in which my tobacco had been wrapped,

and which I had thrown away at my halting-place of the preceding night. I

looked around, and recognized the island and the very tree under which I

had slept or endeavoured to sleep. The horrible truth instantly flashed

across me--the horse tracks I had been following were my own: since the

preceding morning I had been riding in _a circle_!

I stood for a few seconds thunderstruck by this discovery, and then sank

upon the ground in utter despair. At that moment I should have been

thankful to any one who would have knocked me on the head as I lay. All I

wished for was to die as speedily as possible.

I remained I know not how long lying in a desponding, half insensible,

state upon the grass. Several hours must have elapsed; for when I got up,

the sun was low in the western heavens. My head was so weak and wandering,

that I could not well explain to myself how it was that I had been thus

riding after my own shadow. Yet the thing was clear enough. Without

landmarks, and in the monotonous scenery of the prairie, I might have gone

on for ever following my horses track, and going back when I thought I was

going forwards, had it not been for the discovery of the tobacco paper. I

was, as I subsequently learned, in the Jacinto prairie, one of the most

beautiful in Texas, full sixty miles long and broad, but in which the most

experienced hunters never risked themselves without a compass. It was

little wonder then that I, a mere boy of two and twenty, just escaped from

college, should have gone astray in it.

I now gave myself up for lost, and with the bridle twisted round my hand,

and holding on as well as I could by the saddle and mane, I let my horse

choose his own road. It would perhaps have been better if I had done this

sooner. The beast's instinct would probably have led him to some

plantation. When he found himself left to his own guidance he threw up his

head, snuffed the air three or four times, and then turning round, set off

in a contrary direction to that he was before going, and at such a brisk

pace that it was as much as I could do to keep upon him. Every jolt caused

me so much pain that I was more than once tempted to let myself fall off

his back.

At last night came, and thanks to the lasso, which kept my horse in awe, I

managed to dismount and secure him. The whole night through I suffered

from racking pains in head, limbs, and body. I felt as if I had been

broken on the wheel; not an inch of my whole person but ached and smarted.

My hands were grown thin and transparent, my cheeks fallen in, my eyes

deep sunk in their sockets. When I touched my face I could feel the change

that had taken place, and as I did so I caught myself once or twice

laughing like a child--I was becoming delirious.

In the morning I could scarcely rise from the ground, so utterly weakened

and exhausted was I by my three days' fasting, anxiety, and fatigue. I

have heard say that a man in good health can live nine days without food.

It may be so in a room, or a prison; but assuredly not in a Texian prairie.

I am quite certain that the fifth day would have seen the last of me.

I should never have been able to mount my mustang, but he had fortunately

lain down, so I got into the saddle, and he rose up with me and started

off of his own accord. As I rode along, the strangest visions seemed to

pass before me. I saw the most beautiful cities that a painter's fancy

ever conceived, with towers, cupolas, and columns, of which the summits

lost themselves in the clouds; marble basins and fountains of bright

sparkling water, rivers flowing with liquid gold and silver, and gardens

in which the trees were bowed down with the most magnificent fruit--fruit

that I had not strength enough to raise my hand and pluck. My limbs were

heavy as lead, my tongue, lips, and gums, dry and parched. I breathed with

the greatest difficulty, and within me was a burning sensation, as if I

had swallowed hot coals; while my extremities, both hands and feet, did

not appear to form a part of myself, but to be instruments of torture

affixed to me, and causing me the most intense suffering.

I have a confused recollection of a sort of rushing noise, the nature of

which I was unable to determine, so nearly had all consciousness left me;

then of finding myself amongst trees, the leaves and boughs of which

scratched and beat against my face as I passed through them; then of a

sudden and rapid descent, with the broad bright surface of a river below

me. I clutched at a branch, but my fingers had no strength to retain their

grasp--there was a hissing, splashing noise, and the waters closed over my

head.

I soon rose, and endeavoured to strike out with my arms and legs, but in

vain; I was too weak to swim and again I went down. A thousand lights

seemed to dance before my eyes: there was a noise in my brain as if a

four-and-twenty pounder had been fired close to my ear. Just then a hard

hand was wrung into my neck-cloth, and I felt myself dragged out of the

water. The next instant my senses left me.

* * * * *

TRAVELS OF KERIM KHAN.

NO. II.

We left our friend the Khan, at length comfortably established in London,

and pursuing his observations on the various novel objects of interest

which every where presented themselves to his gaze. The streets lighted by

gas (which the Persian princes call "the spirit of coals") are described

in terms of the highest admiration--"On each side, as far as the eye could

see, were two interminable lines of extremely brilliant light, produced by

a peculiar kind of vapour here called gas, which made the city infinitely

more interesting to look at by night than by day; but the most

extraordinary thing in reference to the flame in the lamps was, that this

appeared to be produced without the medium of either oil or wick, nor

could I discern the cause of the lighting. The houses have from three to

seven stages or stories, one of which is underground--each stage

containing at least two rooms. The walls fronting the streets are of brick

or stone, and the interior of woodwork; but the wood of the rooms inside

is covered with a peculiar sort of paper of various colours and curious

devices, highly elaborate and ingenious. The balconies outside were

generally filled with flowers of various hues: but notwithstanding the

wonders which surrounded me, and made me fancy myself in a world of

talismanic creation, my spirits were for some time depressed, and this

immense city seemed to me worse than the tomb; for I had not yet recovered

from the bewilderment into which all that I had seen had thrown me."

The feeling of loneliness, resulting from this oppressive sense of

novelty, wore off, however, as the Khan began to find out his friends, and

accustom himself to the fashions of the country; and he was one day

agreeably surprised by a visit from one of the suite of Moulavi Afzul Ali,

an envoy to the Court of Directors from the Rajah of Sattarah;[1] "I need

not say how delighted I felt, not having the least idea of meeting any of

my countrymen so far from Hindustan." The 11th of August, the day fixed

for the prorogation of Parliament by the Queen, now arrived; and the khan

"accompanied some gentlemen in a carriage to see the procession, but it

was with extreme difficulty that we got a place where we could see her

Majesty pass; at last, however, through the kindness of a mounted officer,

we succeeded. First came the Shahzadehs, or princes of the blood, in

carriages drawn by six horses, and then the wazirs (viziers) and nobles,

and the ambassadors from foreign states, in vehicles, some with six, and

some with four horses. When all these had passed, there came the Queen

herself in a golden carriage, drawn by eight magnificent steeds; on her

right was Prince Arleta, and opposite her was Lord Melbourne, the grand

wazir, (prime minister.) The carriage was preceded by men who, I was

surprised to observe, were dressed in the Hindustani fashion, in red and

gold, with broad sleeves.[2] But those nearest her Majesty, strange to

say, wore almost exactly the costume of Hindustan, and to these my eyes

were immediately directed; and I felt so delighted to see my own

countrymen advanced to the honour of forming the body-guard of the

sovereign, that I could scarcely believe the evidence of my senses, when I

perceived on closer inspection, by their complexions, that they were

English. Still I could not (nor can I even now) understand the reason of

their adopting the Hindustani dress--though I was told on enquiry, that it

was the ancient costume of the guard called _yeomen_." ... "As the Queen

approached the people took off their hats, nor was I less astonished[3]

when I heard them begin to shout _hurra! hurra_! as she passed; which in

their language seems to imply approbation. When her Majesty turned towards

our carriage, I immediately made a _salaam_ after the manner of my own

country, which she graciously acknowledged, seeing, no doubt, that I was a

native of a strange land!"

[1] This must have been one of the _vakeels_ or envoys, whose

departure from Bombay, in March 1839, is mentioned in the _Asiatic

Journal_, (xxix. 178;) the party is there said, on the authority

of the _Durpun_, (a native newspaper,) to have consisted of

eleven, Mahrattas and Purbhoos, no mention being made of Moulavi

Afzul Ali. We have been unable to trace the further proceedings of

the deputation in this country; but they probably found on their

arrival, that the fate of their master was already decided, as he

was dethroned by the Company, in favour of his cousin Appa Sahib,

in September of the same year, on the charge of having

participated in a conspiracy against the English power. The

justice, as well as policy of this measure, was, however, strongly

canvassed, and gave rise to repeated and violent debates in the

Court of Proprietors.

[2] The native servants of the Governor-General at Calcutta, on

state occasions, wear splendid scarlet and gold caftans.--_See_

Bishop Heber's Journal.

[3] The Khan nowhere exactly explains the surprise which he

expresses, here and at other times, at the shouts of

_hurra_!--perhaps his ear was wounded by the resemblance of the

sound to certain Hindustani epithets, by no means refined or

complimentary.

This fancied metamorphosis of the sturdy beef-eaters with their partisans,

whose costume has never been altered since the days of Henry VII., into

Hindustani _peons_ and _chuprassees_, seems to show that the enthusiasm of

the Khan must have been considerably excited--and after this cruel

disappointment he dismisses the remainder of the procession in a few words.

To a native of India, indeed, accustomed to see every petty rajah or nawab

holding a few square miles of territory as the tenant of the Company,

surrounded on state occasions by a crowd of the picturesque irregular

cavalry of the East, and with a _Suwarree_ or cavalcade of led horses,

gayly caparisoned elephants, flaunting banners, and martial music, the

amount of military display in attendance on the Queen of Great Britain

must naturally have appeared inconsiderable--"The escort consisted of only

some two hundred horsemen, but these were cased in steel and leather from

head to foot, and their black horses were by far the finest I have yet

seen in this country. But though the multitudes of people were immense,

yet the procession tell much short of what I had expected from the monarch

of so great and powerful a nation! I returned home, however, much

gratified by the sights I had seen to-day."

The sight of this ceremony naturally leads to a digression on the origin

and constitution of the English parliament, and its division into the two

houses of Lords and Commons. The events leading to these institutions, and

the antecedent civil wars between the king and the barons, in the reign of

Henry III. and Edward I., are given by the Khan, on the whole, with great

accuracy--probably from the information of his English friends since the

knowledge of the ancient history and institutions of the country, which he

displays both here and in other parts of his narrative, can scarcely have

been acquired through the medium of a native education in Hindustan. The

deductions which he draws, however, from this historical summary, are

somewhat curious; since he assumes that the power of the crown, though

limited in appearance by the concessions then made, and the legislative

functions vested in parliament, was in truth only strengthened, and

rendered more securely despotic:--"But this is entirely lost sight of by

the people, who, even at the present day, imagine that the parliament is

all-powerful, and the sovereign powerless. But I must be allowed to say,

that those ancient monarchs acted wisely, and the result of their policy

has not been sufficiently perceived.... For when parliament was

constituted, the power of retaining armed vassals and servants, which the

barons had enjoyed for so long a period, was abolished, and has never been

resumed even by princes of the blood; so that they could no longer resist

the authority of the king, who alone had the privilege of raising and

maintaining troops--a right never conceded to parliament. Besides this the

powers of life and death, and of declaring war, were identified with the

person of the sovereign; and with respect to the latter, it is never,

until it has been decided upon, even intimated to the parliament, which

possesses _only_ the power of collecting the taxes, from which the

expenses of the war the king may enter into must be paid. The possession,

therefore, of these two rights by the king, is equivalent to the tenure of

absolute power." The possibility of the supplies being refused by a

refractory House of Commons, seems either not to have occurred to the khan,

or to have escaped his recollection at the moment of his penning this

sentence; and though he subsequently alludes to the responsibility of

ministers, he never seems to have comprehended the nature and extent of

the control exercised by parliament over the finances of the nation, so

fully as the Persian princes, who tell us, in their quaint phraseology,

that "if the expenses that were made should be agreeable to the Commons,

well and good--if not, the vizirs must stand the consequences; and every

person who has given ten _tomâns_ of the revenue, has a right to rise up

in the House of Commons, and seize the vizir of the treasury by the collar,

saying, 'What have you done with my money?'"--a mode of _putting to the

question_ which, if now and then practically adopted by some hard-fisted

son of the soil, we have no doubt would operate as a most salutary check

on the vagaries of Chancellors of the Exchequer.

It is strange that the Khan should not, in this case, perceive the fallacy

of his own argument, or see that the power of the sword must always

virtually rest with the holder of the purse; since immediately afterwards,

after enlarging on the enormous amount of taxes levied in England, the

oppressive nature of some of them, especially the window-tax, "for the

light of heaven is God's gift to mankind," he proceeds--"In other

countries it would perhaps cost the king, who imposed such taxes, his head;

but here the blame is laid on the House of Commons, without any one

dreaming of censuring the sovereign, in whose name they are levied, and

for whose use they are applied;" citing as a proof of this the ease with

which the insurrection of Wat Tyler and his followers, against the

capitation tax, was suppressed by the promise of the king to redress their

grievances. The subject of English taxation, indeed, both from the amount

levied, and the acquiescence of the people in such unheard-of burdens,

seems to have utterly bewildered the khan's comprehension.[4] "All classes,

from the noble to the peasant, are alike oppressed; yet it is amusing to

hear them expatiate on the institutions of their country, fancying it the

freest and themselves the least oppressed of any people on earth! They are

constantly talking of the tyranny and despotism of Oriental governments,

without having set foot in any of those regions, or knowing any thing

about the matter, except what they have gleaned from the imperfect

accounts of superficial travellers--deploring the state of Turkey, Persia,

and other Mahommedan countries, and calling their inhabitants slaves, when,

if the truth were known, there is not a single kingdom of Islam, the

people of which would submit to what the English suffer, or pay one-tenth

of the taxes exacted from them."

[4] The views of Mirza Abu-Talib on this important subject, are

far more enlightened and correct than those of Kerim Khan. "The

public revenue of England," he observes, "is not, as in India,

raised merely from the land, or by duties levied on a few kinds of

merchandise, but almost every article of consumption pays its

portion. The taxes are levied by the authority and decree of

parliament; and are in general so framed _as to bear lightly on

the poor_, and that _every person should pay in proportion to his

income_. Thus bread, meat, and coals, being articles of

indispensable use, are exempt; but spirits, wines, &c., are taxed

very high; and the rich are obliged to pay for every horse, dog,

and man-servant they keep; also for the privilege of throwing

_flour_ on their heads, and having their _arms_ (insignia of the

antiquity and rank of their family) painted on their carriages,

&c. Since the commencement of the present war, a new law has been

passed, compelling every person to pay annually a tenth of his

whole income. Most of the taxes are permanent, but some of them

are changed at the pleasure of parliament. Abu-Talib visited the

country in the first years of the present century, when the

capability of taxation was strained to the utmost, but the words

which we have given in italics, contain the secret which Kerim

failed to detect."

Relieved, it is to be hoped, by this tirade against the ignominious

submission of the Franks to taxation, the Khan resumes the enumeration of

the endless catalogue of wonders which the sights of London presented to

him. On visiting the Polytechnic Institution--"which means, I understand,

a place in which specimens of every science and art are to be seen in some

mode or other, there being no science or art of any other country unknown

here"--he briefly enumerates the oxyhydrogen microscope, "by which water

was shown so full of little animals, nay, even monsters, as to make one

shudder at the thought of swallowing a drop"--the orrery, the

daguerreotype, and the diving-bell, (in which he had the courage to

descend,) as the objects principally deserving notice, "since it would

require several months, if not years, to give that attention to each

specimen of human industry which it demands, in order thoroughly to

understand it." The effects of the electrical machine, indeed, "by which

fire was made to pass through the body of a man, and out of the

finger-ends of his right hand, without his being in any way affected by it,

though a piece of cloth, placed close to this right hand, was actually

ignited," seem to have excited considerable astonishment in his mind; but

it does not appear that his curiosity led him to make any attempt in

investigating the hidden causes of these mysterious phenomena. His apathy

in this respect presents a strong contrast with the minute and elaborate

description of the same objects, the mode of their construction, and the

uses to which they may be applied, given in the journal of the two Parsees,

Nowrojee and Merwanjee. "To us," say they, "brought up in India for

scientific pursuits, and longing ardently to acquire practical information

connected with modern improvements, more particularly with naval

architecture, steam-engines, steam-boats, and steam navigation, these two

galleries of practical science (the Adelaide and Polytechnic) seemed to

embrace all that we had come over to England to make ourselves acquainted

with; and it was with gratitude to the original projectors of these

institutions that we gazed on the soul-exciting scene before us. We

thought of the enchantments related in the _Arabian Nights'

Entertainments_, and they faded away into nothingness compared with what

we then saw."

But however widely apart the nonchalance of the Moslem, and the

matter-of-fact diligence of the Parsee,[5] may have placed them

respectively in their appreciation of the scientific marvels of the

Polytechnic Institution, they meet on common ground in their admiration of

the wax-work exhibition of Madame Tussaud; though the Khan, who was not

sufficiently acquainted with the features of our public characters to

judge of the likenesses, expresses his commendation only in general terms.

But the Parsees, with the naïveté of children, break out into absolute

raptures at recognising the features of Lord Melbourne, "a good-humoured

looking, kind English gentleman, with a countenance, perhaps, representing

frankness and candour more than dignity"--William IV., "looking the very

picture of good-nature"--the Duke of Wellington, Lord Brougham, &c.;

"indeed, we know of no exhibition (where a person has read about people)

that will afford him so much pleasure, always recollecting that it is only

_one_ shilling, and for this you may stop just as long as you are

inclined." Their remarks, on seeing the effigy of Voltaire, are too

curious to be omitted. "He is an extraordinary-looking man, dressed so

oddly too, with little pinched-up features, and his hair so curiously

arranged. We looked much at him, thinking he must have had much courage,

and have thought himself quite right in his belief, to have stood opposed

to all the existing religious systems of his native land. He, however, and

those who thought differently from him, have long since in another world

experienced, that if men only act up to what they believe to be right, the

Maker of the Deist, the Christian, and the Parsee, will receive them into

his presence; and that it is the _professor of religion_, who is _nothing

but a professor_, let his creed be what it may, that will meet with the

greatest punishment from Him that ruleth all things." But before we quit

the subject of this attractive exhibition, we must not omit to mention an

adventure of the Persian princes, two of whom, having paid a previous

visit, persuaded the third brother, on his accompanying them thither, that

he was in truth in the royal palace, (whither he had been invited for one

of the Queen's parties on the same evening.) and in the presence of the

court and royal family! The embarrassment of poor Najef-Kooli at the

_morne silence_ preserved, which he interpreted as a sign of displeasure,

is amusingly described, till, on touching one of the figures, "he fell

down, and I observed that he was dead; and my brothers and Fraser Sahib

laughed loudly, and said, 'These people are not dead but are all of them

artificial figures of white wax.' Verily, no one would ever have thought

that they were manufactured by men!"

[5] "The Parsees," says Mirza Abu-Talib, describing those whom he

saw at Bombay on his return to India, "are not possessed of a

spark of liberality or gentility.... The only Parsee I was ever

acquainted with who had received a liberal education, was Moula

Firoz, whom I met at the house of a friend; he was a sensible and

well-informed man, who had travelled into Persia, and there

studied mathematics, astronomy, and the sciences of Zoroaster." If

this account be correct, a marvellous improvement must have taken

place during the last forty years. Many of the Parsees of the

present day are almost on a level with Europeans in education and

acquirements; and in their adoption of our manners and customs,

they stand alone among the various nations of our Oriental

subjects--but their exclusive addiction to mercantile pursuits,

and their pacific habits, (in both which points they are hardly

exceeded by the Quakers of Europe,) make them objects of contempt

to the haughty Moslems.

A few days after his visit to Madame Tussaud, we find the Khan making an

excursion by the railroad to Southampton, in order to be present at a

banquet given on board the Oriental steamer, by the directors of the

Oriental Steam Navigation Company, from whom he had received a special

invitation. With the exception of the brief transit from Blackwall to

London on his arrival, this was his first trip by rail, but, as his place

was in one of the close first-class carriages, he saw nothing of the

machinery by which the motion was effected, "though such was the rapidity

of the vehicles, that I could distinguish nothing but an expanse of green

all round, nor could I perceive even the trunks of the trees. Every now

and then we were carried through dark caverns, where we could not see each

others' faces; and sometimes we met other vehicles coming in the opposite

direction, which occasioned me no small alarm, as I certainly thought we

should have been dashed to pieces, from the fearful velocity with which

both were running. We reached Southampton, a distance of seventy-eight

miles, in three hours; and what most surprised me was, being seriously

told on our arrival, that we had been unusually long on our way. I was

told that this iron road, from London to Southampton, cost six crores of

rupees, (L.6,000,000.)" The town of Southampton is only briefly noticed as

well built, populous, and flourishing; but he had no time to visit the

beautiful scenery of the environs, as the entertainment took place the

following afternoon in the cabin of the Oriental, "which is a very large

vessel, well constructed, and in admirable order, and is intended to carry

the _dak_ (mail) to India, which is sent by the way of Sikanderîyah,

(Alexandria.)" Our friend the khan, however, must have been always rather

out of his element at a feast; unlike his countryman, Abu-Talib--who

speedily became reconciled to the forbidden viands and wines of the Franks,

and even carried his laxity so far as to express a _hope_, rather than a

_belief_, that the brushes which he used were made of horsehair, and not

of the bristles of the unclean beast--Kerim Khan appears (as we have seen

on a previous occasion) never to have relaxed the austerity of the

religious scruples which the _Indian_ Moslems have borrowed from the

Hindus, so far as to partake of food not prepared by his own people; and

on the present occasion, in spite of the instances of his hosts, his

simple repast consisted wholly of fruit. The cheers which followed on the

health of the Queen being given, appeared to him, like those which hailed

her passage at the prorogation of Parliament, a most incomprehensible and

somewhat indecorous proceeding; his own health was also drunk as a _lion_,

but "not being able to reply from my ignorance of the language, a

gentleman of my acquaintance thanked them in my name; while I also stood

up and made a _salaam_, as much as to say that I highly appreciated the

honour done me." While the festivities were proceeding in the cabin, the

steamer was got underway and making the circuit of the Isle of Wight; and

on landing again at Southampton, "I was surrounded by a concourse of

people, who had collected to look at me, imagining, no doubt, that I was

some strange creature, the like of which they had never seen before."

Whether from want of time or of curiosity, he left Portsmouth, and all the

wonders of its arsenal and dockyard, unvisited, and after again going on

board the Oriental the next day, to take leave of the captain and officers,

returned in the afternoon by the railway to London.

He was next shown over the Bank of England, his remarks on which are

devoid of interest, and he visited the Paddington terminus of the Great

Western Railway, in the hope of gaining a more accurate idea of the nature

of the locomotive machinery, the astonishing powers of which he had

witnessed in his journey to Southampton. But mechanics were not the Khan's

forte; and, dismissing the subject with the remark, that "it is so

extremely complicated and difficult that a stranger cannot possibly

understand it,"[6] he returns at once to the haunts of fashion, Hyde Park

and the Opera. Hitherto the khan had been unaccountably silent on the

subject of the "Frank moons, brilliant as the sun," (as the English ladies

are called by the Persian princes, who, from the first, lose no

opportunity of commemorating their beauty in the most rapturous strains of

Oriental hyperbole;) but his enthusiasm is effectually kindled by the

blaze of charms which meets his eye in the "bazar of beauty and garden of

pleasure," as he terms the Park, his account of which he sums up by

declaring, that, "were the inhabitants of the celestial regions to descend,

they would at one glance forget the wonders of the heavens at the sight of

so many bright eyes and beautiful faces! what, therefore, remains for

mortals to do?" The Opera is, he says, "the principal _tomashagah_"

(place of show or entertainment) in London, and best decorated and

lighted;" though he does not go the length of affirming, as stated in the

account given by the Persian princes, that "before each box are forty

chandeliers of cut glass, and each has fifty lights!"--"I could not,"

continues the khan, "understand the subject of the performances--it was

all singing, accompanied with various action, as if some story were meant

to be related; but I was also told that the language was different from

English, and that the majority of those present understood it no more than

myself." The scanty drapery and liberal displays of the figurantes at

first startled him a little; but "the beauty of those _peris_ was such as

might have enslaved the heart of Ferhad himself;" and he soon learned to

view all their _pirouettes_ and _tours-de-force_ with the well-bred

nonchalance of a man who had witnessed in his own country exhibitions

nearly as singular in their way "though the style of dancing here was of

course entirely different from what we see in India." The impression made

by the sight of the ballet on the Parsees, who invariably reduce every

thing to pounds, shillings, and pence, took a different form; and they

express unbounded astonishment, on being told that Taglioni was paid a

hundred and fifty guineas a-night, "that such a sum should be paid to a

woman to stand a long time like a goose on one leg, then to throw one leg

straight out, twirl round three or four times with the leg thus extended,

curtsy so low as nearly to seat herself on the stage, and spring from one

side of the stage to another, all which jumping about did not occupy an

hour!"

[6] The Persian princes go more into detail; but we doubt whether

their description will much facilitate the construction of a

railway from Ispahan to Shiraz. "The roads on which the coaches

are placed and fixed, are made of iron bars; all that seems to

draw them is a box of iron, in which they put water to boil;

underneath, this iron box is like an urn, and from it rises the

steam which gives the wonderful force; when the steam rises up,

the wheels take their motion, the coach spreads its wings, and the

travellers become like birds."

Astley's (which the Persian princes call the "opera of the horse") was the

Khan's next resort; and as the feats of horsemanship there exhibited did

not require any great proficiency in the English language to render them

intelligible, he appears to have been highly amused and gratified, and

gives a long description of all he saw there, which would not present much

of novelty to our readers. He was also taken by some of his acquaintance

to see the industrious fleas in the Strand; but this exhibition, which

accorded unbounded gratification to the grandsons of Futteh Ali Shah,

seems to have been looked upon by the khan rather with contempt, as a

marvellous piece of absurdity. "Would any one believe that such a sight as

this could possibly be witnessed any where in the world? but, having

personally seen it, I cannot altogether pass it over." But the then

unfinished Thames Tunnel, which he had the advantage of visiting in

company with Mr Brunel, appears to have impressed his mind more than any

other public work which he had seen; and his remarks upon it show, that he

was at pains to make himself accurately acquainted with the nature and

extent of the undertaking, the details of which he gives with great

exactness. "But," he concludes, "it is impossible to convey in words an

adequate idea of the labour that must have been spent upon this work, the

like of which was never before attempted in any country. The emperors of

Hindustan, who were monarchs of so many extensive provinces, and possessed

such unlimited power and countless treasures, desired a bridge to be

thrown across the Jumna to connect Delhi with the city of Shahdarah--yet

an architect could not be found in all India who could carry this design

into execution. Yet here a few merchants formed a company, and have

executed a work infinitely transcending that of the most elaborate bridge

ever built. In the first instance, as I was given to understand, they

applied to Government for leave to construct a bridge at the same spot,

but as it was objected that this would impede the navigation of the river,

they formed the design, at the suggestion of the talented engineer above

mentioned, of actually making their way across the river underground, and

commenced this great work in spite of the general opinion of the

improbability of success."[7]

[7] The Parsees, in their account of the Tunnel, mention a fact

now not generally remembered, that the attempt was far from a new

one:--"In 1802, a Cornish miner having been selected for the

purpose, operations were commenced 330 feet from the Thames, on

the Rotherhithe side. Two or three different engineers were

engaged, and the affair was nearly abandoned, till in 1809 it was

quite given up."

"Some days after this," continues the khan, "I paid a visit to the Tower,

which is the fortress of London, placed close to the Thames on its left

bank. Within the ramparts is another fort of white stone, which in past

times was frequently occupied by the sovereigns of the country. It is said

to have been constructed by King William, surnamed _Muzuffer_, or the

Conqueror; others are of opinion that it was founded by Keesar the Roman

emperor; but God alone can solve this doubt. In times past it was also

used as a state prison for persons of rank, and was the scene of the

execution of most of the princes and nobles whose fate is recorded in the

chronicles of England. They still show the block on which the

decapitations took place." Among the trophies in the armoury, he

particularizes the gun and girdle of Tippoo Sultan, "which seemed to be

taken great care of, and were preserved under a glass case;" but the horse

armoury and the regalia, usually the most attractive part of the

exhibition to strangers, are passed over with but slight notice, though,

from the Parsees, the sight of the equestrian figures in the former, draws

the only allusion which escapes them throughout their narrative to the

fallen glories of their race. "The representations of some of these

monarchs was in the very armour they wore; and we were here very forcibly

put in mind of Persia, once our own country, where this iron clothing was

anciently used; but, alas! we have no remains of these things; all we know

of them is from historical works." The crown jewels might have been

supposed to present to a native of India an object of peculiar interest;

but the khan remarks only the great ruby, "which is so brilliant that (it

is said) one would be able to read by its light by placing it on a book in

the dark. I made some enquiries respecting its value, but could not get no

satisfactory answer, as they said no jeweller could ascertain it."

It would appear that the Khan must now have been for several months

resident in London, (for he takes no note of the lapse of time,) since we

next find him a spectator of the pomps and pageants of Lord Mayor's day.

He gives no account, however, of the procession, but contents himself with

informing his readers that the Lord Mayor (except in his tenure of office

being annual instead of for life) is the same as a "patel" or "mukaddam"

in the East: adding that "he is the only person in England, except the

sovereign, who is allowed to have a train of armed followers in attendance

on him." It is not very evident whether the idea of civic army was

suggested to the mind of the khan simply by the sight of the men in armour

in the procession, or whether dark rumours had reached his ear touching

the prowess of the Lumber troopers, and other warlike bodies which march

under the standard of the Lord Mayor; but certain it is that this most

pacific of potentates cannot fairly be charged with abusing the formidable

privilege thus attributed to him--the city sword never having been

unsheathed in mortal fray, as far as our researches extend, since Wat

Tyler fell before the doughty arm of Sir William of Walworth. On returning

from the show, the khan was taken to see Newgate, with the gloomy aspect

of which, and the silent and strict discipline enforced among the

prisoners, he was deeply impressed; "to these poor wretches the gate of

mercy is indeed shut, and that of hardship and oppression thrown open."

His sympathies were still more strongly awakened on discovering among

those unfortunate creatures an Indian Moslem, who proved, on enquiry, to

be a Lascar sailor, imprisoned for selling smuggled cigars--"and, in my

ignorance of the laws and customs of the country, I was anxious to procure

his liberation by paying the fine; but my friends told me that this was

absolutely impossible, and that he must remain the full time in prison. So

we could only thank the governor for his attention, and then took our

departure."

Following the steps of the Khan from grave to gay, in his desultory course

through the endless varieties of "Life in London," we are at once

transported from the dismal cells of Newgate to the fancy-dress ball at

Guildhall for the aid of the refugee Poles. This seems to have been the

first scene of the kind at which Kerim Khan had been present since his

arrival in England; and though he was somewhat scandalized at perceiving

that some of those in male attire were evidently ladies, he describes with

considerable effect "the infinite variety of costumes, all very different

from those of England, as if each country had contributed its peculiar

garb," the brilliant lighting and costly decoration of the rooms, and the

picturesque grouping of the vast assemblage. But his first impressions on

English dancing are perfectly unique in their way, and we can only do

justice to them by quoting them at length. "It is so entirely unlike any

thing we ever heard of in Hindustan, that I cannot refrain from giving a

slight sketch of what I saw. In the first place, the company could not

have been fewer than 1500 or 2000, of the highest classes of society, the

ministers, the nobles, and the wealthy, with their wives and daughters.

Several hundreds stood up, every gentleman with a lady; and they advanced

and retired several times, holding each other by the hand, to the sound of

the music: at last the circle they had formed broke up, some running off

to the right, and some to the left--then a gentleman, leaving his lady,

would strike out obliquely across the room, sometimes making direct for

another lady at a distance, and sometimes stooping and flourishing with

his legs as he went along: when he approached her, he made a sort of

salaam, and then retreated. Another would go softly up to a lady, and then

suddenly seizing her by the waist, would turn and twist her round and

round some fifty times till both were evidently giddy with the motion:

this was sometimes performed by a few chosen dancers, and sometimes by

several hundreds at once--all embracing each other in what, to our notions,

would seem rather an odd sort of way, and whirling round and round; and

though their feet appeared constantly coming in contact with each other, a

collision never took place. And those who met in this affectionate manner

were, as I was told, for the most part perfect strangers to each other,

which to me was incomprehensible! Several ladies asked me to dance with

them, but I excused myself by saying that their dancing was so

superlatively beautiful that it was sufficient to admire it, and that I

was afraid to try--'besides,' said I, 'it is contrary to our customs in

Hindustan.' To which they replied that India was far off, and no one could

see me. 'But,' said I 'there are people who put every thing in the

newspapers, and if my friends heard of it I should lose caste.' The ladies

smiled; and after this I was not asked to dance." The Persian princes,

when in a similar dilemma, evaded the request by "taking oath that we did

not know how, and that our mother did not care to teach us; and thank

God," concludes Najef-Kooli with heartfelt gratitude, "we never did dance.

God protect the faithful from it!" Independent of the above recorded

opinions on the singularity of quadrilles and waltzes, the khan takes this

occasion to enter into a disquisition on the inconsistency (doubly

incongruous to an Oriental eye) of the ladies having their necks, arms,

and shoulders uncovered, while the men are clothed up to the chin, "and

not even their hands are allowed to be seen bare," and returned from the

ball, no doubt, more lost than ever in wonder at the strange extravagances

of the Feringhis.

These opinions are repeated, shortly after, on the occasion of the Khan's

being present at an evening party at Clapham, which, as the invitation was

_for the country_, he seems to have expected to find quite a different

sort of affair from the entertainments at which he had already assisted in

London. He was greatly surprised, therefore, to find the assemblage, on

his arrival, engaged in the everlasting toil of dancing, "the men, as

usual in this country, clad all in dismal black, and the ladies sparkling

in handsome costumes of bright and variegated colours--another singular

custom, of which I never could learn or guess the reason." But, however

great a bore the sight of quadrilles may have been to the khan, ample

amends were made to him on this occasion by the musical performances, with

which several of the ladies ("though they all at first refused, evidently

from modesty") gratified the company in the intervals of the dance, and at

which he expresses unbounded delight; but this does not prevent his again

launching out into a tirade against the unseemly methods, as they appear

to him, used by the English to signify applause or approbation. "The

strangest custom is, that the audience _clapped their hands_ in token of

satisfaction whenever any of the ladies concluded their performance....

The only occasion on which such an exhibition of feeling is to be

witnessed in Hindustan, is when some offender is put upon a donkey, with a

string of old shoes round his neck, and his face blackened and turned to

the tail, and in this plight expelled from the city. Then only do the

boys--men never--clap their hands and cry hurra! hurra! Thus, that which

in one country implies shame and disgrace, is resorted to in another to

express the highest degree of approbation!"

Passing over the Khan's visits to the Athenæum Club-house, to Buckingham

Palace, &c., his remarks on which contain nothing noticeable, except his

mistaking some of the ancient portraits in the palace, from their long

beards and rosaries, for the representations of Moslem divines, we find

him at last fairly in the midst of an English winter, and an eyewitness of

a spectacle of all others the most marvellous and incredible to a

Hindustani, and which Mirza Abu-Talib, while describing it, frankly

confesses he cannot expect his countrymen to believe--the ice and the

skaters in the Regent's Park.[8] "What I had previously seen in the

summer as water, with birds swimming and boats rowing upon it, was now

transformed into an immense sheet of ice as hard as rock, on which

thousands of persons, men, women, and children, were actually walking,

running, and figuring in the most extraordinary manner. I saw men pass

with the rapidity of an arrow, turning, wheeling, retrograding, and

describing figures with surprising agility, sometimes on both, but more

frequently on only one leg; they had all a piece of steel, turned up in

front somewhat in the manner of our slippers, fastened to their shoes, by

means of which they propelled themselves as I have described. After much

persuasion, I went on the ice myself; though not without considerable fear;

yet such a favourite sport is this with the English, and so infatuated are

some of these _ice players_, that nothing will deter them from venturing

on those places which are marked as dangerous; and thus many perish, like

moths that sacrifice themselves in the candle flame. They have, therefore,

parties of men, with their dresses stuffed with air-cushions, whose duty

it is to watch on the ice, ready to plunge in whenever it breaks and any

one is immersed."

[8] Bishop Heber, in his journal, also mentions the wonder of his

Bengali servants on their first sight of a piece of ice in

Himalaya, and their regret on finding that they could not carry it

home to Calcutta as a curiosity.

The national theatres were now open for the winter, and the Khan paid a

visit to Covent-Garden; but he gives no particulars of the performances

which he witnessed, though he was greatly struck by the splendour of the

lighting and decoration, and still more by the almost magical celerity

with which the changes of scenery were effected. The scanty notice taken

of these matters, may perhaps be partly accounted for by the extraordinary

fascination produced in the mind of the khan by the charms of one of the

houris on the stage--whose name, though he does not mention it, our

readers will probably have no difficulty in supplying; and it may be

doubted whether the warmest panegyrics of the most ardent of her

innumerable admirers ever soared quite so high a pitch into the regions of

hyperbole as the Oriental flights of the khan, who exhausts, in the praise

of her attractions, all the imagery of the eastern poets. She is described

as "cypress-waisted, rose-cheeked, fragrant as amber, and sweet as sugar,

a stealer of hearts, who unites the magic of talismans with loveliness

transcending that of the _peris!_ When she bent the soft arch of her

eyebrows, she pierced the heart through and through with the arrows of her

eyelashes; and when she smiled, the heart of the most rigid ascetic was

intoxicated! She was gorgeously arrayed, and covered all over with

jewels--and the _tout-ensemble_ of her appearance was such as would have

riveted the gaze of the inhabitants of the spheres--what, then, more can a

mere mortal say?"[9]

[9] The sober prose of the Parsees presents, as usual, an amusing

contrast with the highflown rhapsodies of the Moslem; their

remarks on the same lady are comprised in the pithy

observation--"We should not have taken her for more than

twenty-six years of age; but we are told she is near fifty."

At Rundell and Bridge's, to a view of the glittering treasures of whose

establishment the Khan was next introduced, he was not less astonished at

the incalculable value of the articles he saw exhibited, "where the

precious metals and magnificent jewellery of all sorts were scattered

about as profusely as so many sorts of fruit in our Delhi bazars"--as

surprised at being informed that many of the nobles, and even of the royal

family, here deposited their plate and jewels for safe custody; and that,

"though all these valuables were left without a guard of soldiers, this

shop has never been known to be attacked and plundered by robbers and

thieves, who not unfrequently break into other houses.' Among the models

of celebrated gems here shown him, he particularizes a jewel which, for

ages, has been the wonder of the East--"the famous _Koh-in-Noor_,

(Mountain of Light,) now in the possession of the ruler of Lahore and well

known to have been forcibly seized by him from Shah-Shoojah, king of Cabul,

when a fugitive in the Panjab;" as well as another, (the Pigot diamond,)

"now belonging to Mohammed Ali of Egypt." The Adelaide Gallery of Science

is passed over with the remark, that it is, on the whole, inferior to the

Polytechnic, which he had previously visited. But the Diorama, with the

views of Damascus, Acre, &c., seems to have afforded him great

gratification, as well as to have perplexed him not a little, by the

apparent accuracy of its perspective. "Some objects delineated actually

appeared to be several _kos_ (a measure of about two miles) from us,

others nearer, and some quite close. I marvelled how such things could be

brought together before me; yet, on stretching out the hand, the canvass

on which all this was represented might be touched." But all the wonders

of the pictorial art, "which the Europeans have brought to unheard of

perfection," fade before the amazement of the khan, on being informed that

it was possible for him to have a transcript of his countenance taken,

without the use of pencil or brush, by the mere agency of the sun's rays;

and even after having verified the truth of this apparently incredible

statement by actual experiment in his own person, he still seems to have

entertained considerable misgivings as to the legitimacy of the

process--"How it was effected was indeed incomprehensible! Here is an art,

which, if it be not magic, it is difficult to conceive what else it can

be!"

The spring was now advancing; "and one day," says the Khan, "not being

Sunday, I was surprised to observe all the shops shut, and the courts of

justice, as well as the merchants' and public offices, all closed. On

enquiry, I was told this was a great day, being the day on which the Jews

crucified the Lord Aysa, (Jesus,) and that a general fast is, on this day,

observed in Europe, when the people abstain from flesh, eating only fish,

and a particular kind of bread marked with a cross. This custom is,

however, now confined to the ancient sect of Christians called Catholics

for the real English never _observe fasts of any kind on any occasion

whatever_; they eat, nevertheless, both the crossed bread and the fish.

This fast is to the Europeans what the _Mohurrum_[10] is to us; only here

no particular signs of sorrow are to be seen on account of the death of

Aysa;--all eat, drink, and enjoy themselves on this day as much as any

other; or, from what I saw, I should say they rather indulged themselves a

little more than usual. Another remarkable thing is, that this fast does

not always happen at the same date, being regulated by the appearance of

the moon; while, in every thing else, the English reckon by the solar

year."

[10] The ten days' lamentation for the martyred imams, Hassan and

Hussein, the grandsons of the Prophet, who were murdered by the

Ommiyades. Some notice of this ceremonial is given at the

beginning of his narrative by the Khan, who attended it just

before he sailed from Calcutta.

We shall offer no comment, as we fear we can offer no contradiction, on

the Khan's account of the singular method of fasting observed in England,

by eating salt fish and cross-buns in addition to the usual viands--but

digressing without an interval from fasts to feasts, we next find him a

guest at a splendid banquet, given by the Lord Mayor. Though Mirza

Abu-Talib, at the beginning of the present century, was present at the

feast given to Lord Nelson during the mayoralty of Alderman Coombe, the

description of a civic entertainment, as it appeared to an Oriental, must

always be a curious _morceau_; and doubly so in the present instance, as

given by a spectator to whom it was as the feast of the Barmecide--since

Kerim Khan, unlike his countryman, the Mirza, religiously abstained

throughout from the forbidden dainties of the Franks, and sat like an

anchorite at the board of plenty. To this concentration of his faculties

in the task of observing, we probably owe the minute detail he has given

us of the festive scene before him, which we must quote, as a companion

sketch of Feringhi manners to the previously cited account of the ball at

Guildhall:--"At length dinner was announced: and all rose, and led by the

queen of the city, (the lady mayoress,) withdrew to another room, where

the table was laid out in the most costly manner, being loaded with dishes,

principally of silver and gold, and covered with _sar-poshes_, (lids or

covers,) some of which were of immense size, like little boats. When the

servants removed the _sar-poshes_, fishes and soup of every sort were

presented to view: some of the former, I was told, brought as rarities

from distant seas, and at great expense. Before every man of rank there

was an immense dish, which it is his duty to cut up and distribute,

putting on each plate about sufficient for a baby to eat. I turned to a

friend and enquired why the guests were helped so sparingly? 'It is

customary,' said he, 'to serve guests in this way.' 'But why not give them

enough?' rejoined I. 'You will soon see,' replied he, 'that they will all

have enough.'[11]

[11] To explain the Khan's ignorance of the form of an English

entertainment, it should be remembered that his religious scruples

excluded him from dinner parties--and that, except on occasions of

form like the present, or the party on hoard the Oriental at

Southampton, he had probably never witnessed a banquet in England.

"Soon after, all the dishes, spoons, &c., were removed by the servants. I

thought the dinner was over, and was preparing to go, not a little

astonished at such scanty hospitality, when other dishes were brought in,

filled with choice viands of every kind--bears from Russia and

Germany--hogs from Ireland--fowls and geese from France--turtle from the

Mediterranean(?)--venison from the parks of the nobility--some in joints,

some quite whole, with their limbs and feet entire. Operations now

recommenced, the carvers doling out the same small quantities as before:

but though many of the gentlemen present were anxious to prevail on me to

partake, and recommended particular dishes, one as being 'a favourite of

the King of the French'--another as particularly rare and exquisite, I

could not be prevailed upon to partake of any. Thus did innumerable dishes

pour and disappear again, the servants constantly changing the plates of

the guests: till I began to form quite a different idea of the appetites

of the guests, and the hospitality of the Lord Mayor, on which I had

thought that a reflection was thrown by the small portions sent to them. I

now saw that many of them, besides being served pretty often, helped

themselves freely to the dishes before them--indeed, their appetite was

wonderfully good: some, doubtless, thinking that such an opportunity would

not often recur. Nor did they forget the juice of the grape--the bottles

which were opened would have filled a ship, and the noise of the champagne

completely drowned the music. One would have thought that, after all this,

no men could eat more: but now the fruits, sweetmeats ices, and jellies

made their appearance, pine-apples, grapes, oranges, apples, pears,

mulberries, and confectionaries of such strange shapes that I can give no

name to them--and before each guest were placed small plates, with

peculiarly shaped knives of gold and silver. Of this part of the banquet I

had the pleasure of partaking, in common with the selfsame gentlemen who

had done such honour to the thousand dishes above mentioned, and who now

distinguished themselves in the same manner on the dessert. The price of

some of the fruit was almost incredible; the reason of which is, that in

this country it can only be reared in glass-houses artificially heated ...

thus the pine-apples, which are by no means fine, cost each twenty rupees,

(L.2,) which in India would be bought for two pice--thus being 640 times

dearer than in our country. Thus in England the poorer classes cannot

afford to eat fruit, whereas in all other countries they can get fruit

when grain is too dear.

"The guests continued at table till late, during which time several

gentlemen rose and spoke: but, from my imperfect knowledge of the language,

I could not comprehend their purports beyond the compliments which they

passed on each other, and the evident attacks which they made on their

political opponents. I at last retired with some others to another room,

where many of the guests were dancing--coffee and tea were here taken

about, just as sherbets are with us in the Mohurrum. I must remark that

the servants were gorgeously dressed, being covered with gold like the

generals of the army; but the most extraordinary thing about them was,

there having their heads covered with ashes, like the Hindoo fakirs-a

custom indicative with us of sorrow and repentance. I hardly could help

laughing when I looked at them; but a friend kindly explained to me that,

in England, none but the servants of the great are _privileged_ to have

ashes strewed on their heads, and that for this distinction their masters

actually pay a tax to government! 'Is this enjoined by their religion?'

said I. 'Oh no!' he replied. 'Then,' said I, 'since your religion does not

require it, and it appears, to our notions at least, rather a mark of

grief and mourning, where is the use of paying a tax for it?' '_it is the

custom of the country_.' said he again. After this I returned hone, musing

deeply on what I had seen."

With this inimitable sketch, we take leave of the Khan for the present,

shortly to return to his ideas of men and manners in _Feringhistan_.

* * * * *

THE BANKING-HOUSE.

A HISTORY IN THREE PARTS. PART I.

CHAPTER I.

PROSPECTIVE.

If, as Wordsworth, that arch-priest of poesy, expresses it, I could place

the gentle reader "_atween the downy wings_" of some beneficent and

willing angel, in one brief instant of time should he be deposited on the

little hill that first discovers the smiling, quiet village of Ellendale.

He would imbibe of beauty more in a breath, a glance, than I can pour into

his soul in pages of spiritless delineation. I cannot charm the eye with

that great stream of liquid light, which, during the long and lingering

summer's day, issues from the valley like an eternal joy; I cannot

fascinate his ear, and soothe his spirit with nature's deep mysterious

sounds, so delicately slender and so soft, that silence fails to be

disturbed, but rather grows more mellow and profound; I cannot with a

stroke present the teeming hills, flushed with their weight of corn, that

now stands stately in the suspended air--now, touched by the lightest wind

that ever blew, flows like a golden river. As difficult is it to convey a

just impression of a peaceful spot, whose praise consists--so to

speak--rather in privatives than positives; whose privilege it is to be

still free, tranquil, and unmolested, in a land and in an age of ceaseless

agitation, in which the rigorous virtues of our fathers are forgotten, and

the land's integrity threatens to give way. If Ellendale be not the most

populous and active village, it is certainly the most rustic and winning

that I have ever beheld in our once _merry_ England. It is secreted from

the world, and lies snugly and closely at the foot of massive hills, which

nature seems to have erected solely for its covert and protection. It is

situated about four miles from the high-road, whence you obtain at

intervals short glimpses as it rears its tiny head into the open day. If

the traveller be fresh from an overworked and overworking city, he looks

upon what he deems a sheer impossibility--the residence of men living

cheerfully and happily in solitude intense. The employment of the

villagers is in the silent fields, from day to day, from year to year.

Their life has no variety, the general heart has no desire for change. It

was so with their fathers--so shall it be with their own children, if the

too selfish world will let them. The inhabitants are almost to a man poor,

humble, and contented. The cottages are clean and neat, but lowly, like

the owners. One house, and one alone, is distinguished from the rest; it

is aged, and ivy as venerable as itself clings closer there as years roll

over it. It has a lawn, an antique door and porch, narrow windows with the

smallest diamond panes, and has been called since its first stone was laid,

_the Vicarage_. Forget the village, courteous reader, and cross with me

the hospitable threshold, for here our history begins--and ends.

The season is summer--the time evening--the hour that of sunset. The big

sun goes down like a ball of fire, crimson-red, leaving at the horizon's

verge his splendid escort--a host of clouds glittering with a hundred hues,

the gorgeous livery of him they have attended. A borrowed glory steals

from them into an open casement, and, passing over, illumines for a time a

face pale even to sadness. It is a woman's. She is dressed in deepest

mourning, and is--Heaven be with her in her solitariness!--a recent widow.

She is thirty years of age at least, and is still adorned with half the

beauty of her youth, not injured by the hand of suffering and time. The

expression of the countenance is one of calmness, or, it may be,

resignation--for the tranquility has evidently been taught and learnt as

the world's lesson, and is not native there. Near her sits a man benign of

aspect, advanced in years; his hair and eyebrows white from the winter's

fall; his eye and mien telling of decline, easy and placid as the close of

softest music, and nothing harsher. Care and trouble he has never known;

he is too old to learn them now. His dress is very plain. The room in

which he sits is devoid of ornament, and furnished like the study of a

simple scholar. Books take up the walls. A table and two chairs are the

amount of furniture. The Vicar has a letter in his hand, which he peruses

with attention; and having finished, he turns with a bright smile towards

his guest, and tells her she is welcome.

"You are very welcome, madam, for your own sake, and for the sake of him

whose signature is here; although, I fear, you will scarcely find amongst

us the happiness you look for. There will be time, however, to consider"--

"I _have_ considered, sir;" answered the lady, somewhat mournfully. "My

resolution has not been formed in haste, believe me."

The vicar paused, and reperused the letter.

"You are probably aware, madam, that my brother has communicated"--

"Every thing. Your people are poor and ignorant. I can be useful to them.

Reduced as I am, I may afford them help. I may instruct the

children--attend the sick--relieve the hungry. Can I do this?"

"Pardon me, dear lady. I am loth to repress the noble impulses by which

you are actuated. It would be very wrong to deny the value and importance

of such aid; but I must entreat you to remember your former life and

habits. I fear this place is not what you expect it. In the midst of my

people, and withdrawn from all society, I have accustomed myself to seek

for consolation in the faithful discharge of my duties, and in communion

with the chosen friends of my youth whom you see around me. You are not

aware of what you undertake. There will be no companionship for you--no

female friend--no friend but myself. Our villagers are labouring men and

women--our population consists of such alone. Think what you have been,

and what you must resign."

The lady sighed deeply, and answered--

"It is, Mr Littleton, just because I cannot forget what I have been, that

I come here to make amends for past neglect and sinfulness. I have a debt

_there_, sir"--and she pointed solemnly towards the sky--"which must be

paid. I have been an unfaithful steward, and must be reconciled to my good

master ere I die. You may trust me. You know my income and my means. It is

trifling; comparatively speaking--nothing. Yet, less than half of it must

suffice for my support. The rest is for your flock. You shall distribute

it, and you shall teach me how to minister to their temporal

necessities--how to labour for their eternal glory. The world and I have

parted, and for ever."

"I will not oppose you further madam. You shall make the trial if you

please, and yet"--the vicar hesitated.

"Pray speak, sir," said the lady.

"I was thinking of your accommodation. Here I could not well receive

you--and I know no other house becoming"--

"Do not mock me, Mr Littleton. A room in the cot of your poorest

parishioner is more than I deserve--more than the good fishermen of

Galilee could sometimes find. Think of me, I beg, as I am--not as I have

been."

As the lady spoke, a servant-maid entered the apartment with the

supper-tray, which the good vicar had ordered shortly after the arrival of

his guest. During the repast, it was arranged that the lady should pass

the night in the cottage of John Humphrys, a man acknowledged to be the

most industrious in the village, and who had become the especial favourite

of the vicar, by marrying, as the latter jocosely termed it, into his

family. John Humphrys' wife had been the vicar's housekeeper. The Reverend

Hugh Littleton was a bachelor, and had always been most cautious and

discreet. Although he had a bed to spare, he did not think of offering it

to his handsome visitor; nor, and this is more remarkable, did he again

that evening resume the subject of their previous conversation. He spoke

of matters connected with the world, from which he had been separated for

half a century, but from whose turmoil the lady had only a few weeks

before disentangled herself. To a good churchman, the condition of the

Church is always a subject of the deepest interest, as her prosperity is a

source of gratitude and joy. Tidings of the movement which had recently

taken place in the very heart of the Establishment had already reached his

secluded parish, filling him with doubt and apprehension. He was glad

to gain what further information his friendly visitor could afford him. We

may conclude, from the observations of the vicar, that her communication

was unsatisfactory.

"It is a cowardly thing, madam," said he, "to withdraw from a scene of

contest in the hour of danger, and when all our dearest interests are at

stake; and yet I do thank my God, from the bottom of my heart, that I am

not an eyewitness to the dishonour and the shame which men are heaping on

our blessed faith. Are we Christians? Do we come before the world as the

messengers of glad tidings--of _unity_ and _peace_? We profess to do it,

whilst discord, enmity, hatred, and persecution are in our hearts and on

our tongue. The atheist and the worldling live in harmony, whilst the

children of Christ carry on their unholy warfare one against the other.

Strange anomaly! Can we not call upon our people to love their God with

all their hearts--and their neighbours as themselves? Can we not strive by

our own good example to teach them how to do this? Would it not be more

profitable and humane, than to disturb them with formalities that have no

virtue in themselves--to distress them with useless controversies, that

settle no one point, teach no one doctrine, but unsettle and unfix all the

good that our simple creed had previously built up and made secure?"

"It is very true, sir;--and it is sweet to hear you talk so."

If the lady desired to hear more, it was unwise of her to speak so plainly.

The vicar was unused to praise, and these few words effectually stopped

him. He said no more. The lady remained silent for a minute or two, then

rose and took her leave. The night was very fine, and the vicar's servant

maid accompanied her to John Humphrys' door. Here she found a wholesome

bed, but her pillow did not become a resting-place until she moistened it

with tears--the bitterest that ever wrung a penitent and broken heart.

* * * * *