I found the reason why Sophie must go home without one word for me.

Aaron had said that he would like some peculiar admixture of flour,

etc.; and she had feared that he might meet disappointment, unless she

prevented it by hurrying home and adding the ingredient of her hands for

his delectable comfort, which bit of spicery he undoubtedly appreciated

to the complete value of the sacrifice. Sophie is wise in her day and

generation. I look with affectionate, reverent admiration upon her life.

It seems that she is in just the position that Creating Wisdom fitted

her for. I saw Aaron looking at her across the table. She was preparing

for him his cup of tea; and of course he had nought to do save to wait,

and in waiting he watched her. What was it that I saw? I cannot tell.

Why, how is this? the world has two sides, two phases; how many more I

cannot know. That which I saw in Aaron's face was a something

transitory, a nebulous luminousness of an existence that I had not

known, had not imagined, having never before received intimation of it.

Why will light evanish so soon?--the fragment that shone in on this

_Terra Incognita_ went out, was submerged in the Cup of _Thea Sinensis_

that Aaron received from Sophie's hand. I cannot divine why all this new

world of being should fancy to unroll itself, an endless panorama of

pansophical mysteries, before my eyes. I do not appreciate it in the

least. Philip Bailey's "Mystic" is more comprehensible to me. This is a

practical, matter-of-fact world; I know it is. Sophie Percival, my

sister, is the wife of Aaron Wilton, country-clergyman in

Redleaf,--nothing more; and I thought of my untasted cup of tea, in

which lay condensed all the fragrance of Wooeshan hill-sides.

"Why not take your tea, Anna?" Sophie asked, just as I had decided not

to think of the things that misted around me.

My answer was a taste of it. I really thought I was doing my duty, when

Sophie's words came upon me, a little distractingly,--

"Will you have more sugar in your tea, Anna?"

"No, I thank you."

Aaron said,--

"The house of Axtell seems to have stolen away your proper self, Anna.

I've been watching you, and I don't really think you've any idea of what

you are subsisting on. Tell me now, what _is_ upon the table?" and Aaron

held a newspaper, lying conveniently near, before my eyes.

"Confession and absolution are synonymous with you, aren't they, Aaron?"

I asked. "Please give me some bread"; and I put the disagreeable paper

away.

There was no bread upon the table.

"My wisdom is confirmed," said Aaron; and he gave me the delectable

substitute, Sophie's handiwork.

METHODS OF STUDY IN NATURAL HISTORY.

XIV.

If I succeeded in explaining my subject clearly in the last article, my

readers will have seen that the five Orders of the Echinoderms are but

five expressions of the same idea; and I will now endeavor to show that

the same identity of structural conception prevails also throughout the

two other Classes of Radiates, and further, that not only the Orders

within each Class, but the three Classes themselves, Echinoderms,

Acalephs, and Polyps, bear the strictest comparison, founded upon close

structural analysis, and are based upon one organic formula.

We will first compare the three Orders of Acalephs,--Hydroids being the

lowest, Discophorae; next, and the Ctenophorae highest. The fact that

these animals have no popular names shows how little they are known. It

is true that we hear some of them spoken of as Jelly-Fishes; but this

name is usually applied to the larger Discophore, when it is thrown upon

the beach and lies a shapeless mass of gelatinous substance on the sand,

or is seen floating on the surface of the water. The name gives no idea

of the animal as it exists in full life and activity. When we speak of a

Bird or an Insect, the mere name calls up at once a characteristic image

of the thing; but the name of Jelly-Fish, or Sun-Fish, or Sea-Blubber,

as the larger Acalephs are also called, suggests to most persons a vague

idea of a fish with a gelatinous body,--or, if they have lived near the

sea-shore, they associate it only with the unsightly masses of

jelly-like substance sometimes strewn in thousands along the beaches

after a storm. To very few does this term recall either the large

Discophore, with its purple disk and its long streamers floating perhaps

twenty or thirty feet behind it as it swims,--or the Ctenophore, with

its more delicate, transparent structure, and almost invisible fringes

in parallel rows upon the body, which decompose the rays of light as the

creature moves through the water, so that hues of ruby-red and

emerald-green, blue, purple, yellow, all the colors of the rainbow,

ripple constantly over its surface when it is in motion,--or the

Hydroid, with its little shrub-like communities living in tide-pools,

establishing themselves on rocks, shells, or sea-weeds, and giving birth

not only to animals attached to submarine bodies, like themselves, but

also to free Medusae or Jelly-Fishes that in their turn give birth again

to eggs which return to the parent-form, and thus, by alternate

generations, maintain two distinct patterns of animal life within one

cycle of growth.

Perhaps, of all the three Classes of Radiates, Acalephs are the least

known. The general interest in Corals has called attention to the

Polyps, and the accessible haunts of the Sea-Urchins and Star-Fishes

have made the Echinoderms almost as familiar to the ordinary observer as

the common sea-shells, while the Acalephs are usually to be found at a

greater distance from the shore, and are not easily kept in confinement.

It is true that the Hydroids live along the shore, and may be reared in

tanks without difficulty; but they are small, and would be often taken

for sea-weeds by those ignorant of their true structure.

Thus this group of animals, with all their beauty of form, color, and

movement, and peculiarly interesting from their singular modes of

growth, remains comparatively unknown except to the professional

naturalist. It may, therefore, be not uninteresting or useless to my

readers, if I give some account of the appearance and habits of these

animals, keeping in view, at the same time, my ultimate object, namely,

to show that they are all founded on the same structural elements and

have the same ideal significance. I will begin with some account of the

Hydroids, including the story of the alternate generations, by which

they give birth to Medusae, while the Medusae, in their turn, reproduce

the Hydroids, from which they spring. But first, a few words upon the

growth of Radiates in general.

There is no more interesting series of transformations than that of the

development of Radiates. They are all born as little transparent

globular bodies, covered with vibratile cilia, swimming about in this

condition for a longer or shorter time; then, tapering somewhat at one

end and broadening at the other, they become attached by the narrower

extremity, while at the opposite one a depression takes place, deepening

in the centre till it becomes an aperture, and extending its margin to

form the tentacles. All Radiates pass through this Polyp-like condition

at some period of their lives, either before or after they are hatched

from the eggs. In some it forms a marked period of their existence,

while in others it passes very rapidly and is undergone within the egg;

but, at whatever time and under whatever conditions it occurs, it forms

a necessary part of their development, and shows that all these animals

have one and the same pattern of growth. This difference in the relative

importance and duration of certain phases of growth is by no means

peculiar to the Radiates, but occurs in all divisions of the Animal

Kingdom. There are many Insects that pass through their metamorphoses

within the egg, appearing as complete Insects at the moment of their

birth; but the series of changes is nevertheless analogous to that of

the Butterfly, whose existence as Worm, Chrysalis, and Winged Insect is

so well known to all. Take the Grasshopper, for instance: with the

exception of the wings, it is born in its mature form; but it has had

its Worm-like stage within the egg as much as the Butterfly that we knew

a few months ago as a Caterpillar. In the same way certain of the higher

Radiates undergo all their transformations, from the Polyp phase of

growth to that of Acaleph or Echinoderm, after birth; while others pass

rapidly through the lower phases of their existence within the egg, and

are born in their final condition, when all their intermediate changes

have been completed. We have appropriate names for all the aspects of

life in the Insect: we call it Larva in its first or Worm-like period,

Chrysalis in its second or Crustacean-like phase of life, and Imago in

its third and last condition as Winged Insect. But the metamorphoses of

the Radiates are too little known to be characterized by popular names;

and when they were first traced, the relation between their different

phases of existence was not understood, so that the same animal in

different stages of growth has frequently been described as two or more

distinct animals. This has led to a confusion in our nomenclature much

to be regretted; for, however inappropriate it may be, a name once

accepted and passed into general use is not easily changed.

That early stage of growth, common to all Radiates, in which they

resemble the Polyps, has been called the Hydra state, in consequence of

their resemblance to the fresh-water Hydra to be found in quantities on

the under side of Duck-Weed and Lily-pads. For any one that cares to

examine these animals, it may be well to mention that they are easily

found and thrive well in confinement. Dip a pitcher into any pool of

fresh water where Duck-Weed or Lilies are growing in the summer, and you

are sure to bring up hundreds of these fresh-water Hydrae, swarming in

myriads in all our ponds. In a glass bowl their motions are easily

watched; and a great deal may be learned of their habits and mode of

life, with little trouble. Such an animal soon completes its growth: for

the stage which I have spoken of as transient for the higher Radiates is

permanent for these; and when the little sphere moving about by means of

its vibratile cilia has elongated a little, attached itself by the lower

end to some surface, while the inversion of the upper end has formed the

mouth and digestive cavity, and the expansion of its margin has made the

tentacles, the very simple story of the fresh-water Hydra is told. But

the last page in the development of these lower Radiates is but the

opening chapter in that of the higher ones, and I will give some account

of their transformations as they have been observed in the Acalephs.

[Illustration: Coryne mirabilis, natural size]

On shells and stones, on sea-weeds or on floating logs, there may often

be observed a growth of exquisitely delicate branches, looking at first

sight more like a small bunch of moss than anything else. But gather

such a mossy tuft and place it in a glass bowl filled with sea-water,

and you will presently find that it is full of life and activity. Every

branch of this miniature shrub terminates in a little club-shaped head,

upon which are scattered a number of tentacles. They are in constant

motion, extending and contracting their tentacles, some of the heads

stretched upwards, others bent downwards, all seeming very busy and

active. Each tentacle has a globular tip filled with a multitude of

cells, the so-called lasso-cells, each one of which conceals a coiled-up

thread. These organs serve to seize the prey, shooting out their long

threads, thus entangling the victim in a net more delicate than the

finest spider's web, and then carrying it to the mouth by the aid of the

lower part of the tentacle. The complication of structure in these

animals, a whole community of which, numbering from twenty to thirty

individuals, is not more than an inch in height, is truly wonderful. In

such a community the different animals are hardly larger than a

good-sized pin's head; and yet every individual has a digestive cavity

and a complete system of circulation. Its body consists of a cavity

inclosed in a double wall, continuing along the whole length of each

branch till it joins the common stem forming the base of the stock. In

this cavity the food becomes softened and liquefied by the water that

enters with it through the mouth, and is thus transformed into a

circulating fluid which flows from each head to the very base of the

community and back again. The inner surface of the digestive cavity is

lined with brownish-red granules, which probably aid in the process of

digestion; they frequently become loosened, fall into the circulating

fluid, and may be seen borne along the stream as it passes up and down.

The rosy tint of the little community is due to these reddish granules.

[Illustration: Single head or branch of Coryne mirabilis magnified, with

a Medusa bud: a, stem; c, club-shaped body; o, mouth; tt, tentacles; d,

Medusa bud.]

This crowd of beings united in a common life began as one such little

Hydra-like animal as I have described above,--floating free at first,

then becoming attached, and growing into a populous stock by putting out

buds at different heights along the length of the stem. The formation of

such a bud is very simple, produced by the folding outwardly of the

double wall of the body, appearing first as a slight projection of the

stem sideways, which elongates gradually, putting out tentacles as it

grows longer, while at the upper end an aperture is formed to make the

mouth. This is one of the lower group of Radiates, known as Hydroids,

and long believed to be Polyps, from their mode of living in communities

and reproducing their kind by budding, after the fashion of Corals. But

if such a little tuft of Hydroids has been gathered in spring, a close

observer may have an opportunity of watching the growth of another kind

of individual from it, which would seem to show its alliance with the

Acalephs rather than the Polyps. At any time late in February or early

in March, bulb-like projections, more globular than the somewhat

elongated buds of the true Hydroid heads, may be seen growing either

among the tentacles of one of these little animals, or just below the

head where it merges in the stem,[3] Very delicate and transparent in

substance, it is hardly perceptible at first; and the gradual formation

of its internal structure is the less easily discerned, because a horny

sheath, forming the outer covering of the Hydroid stock, extends to

inclose and shield the new-comer, whom we shall see to be so different

from the animal that gives it birth that one would suppose the Hydroid

parent must be as much surprised at the sight of its offspring as the

Hen that has accidentally hatched a Duck's egg. At the right moment this

film is torn open by the convulsive contractions of the animal, which,

thus freed from its envelope, begins at once to expand. By this time

this little bud has assumed the form of a Medusoid or Jelly-Fish disk,

with its four tubes radiating from the central cavity. The proboscis, so

characteristic of all Jelly-Fishes, hangs from the central opening; and

the tentacles, coiled within the internal cavity up to this time, now

make their appearance, and we have a complete little Medusa growing upon

the Hydroid head. Gradually the point by which it is attached to the

parent-stock narrows and becomes more and more contracted, till the

animal drops off and swims away, a free Jelly-Fish.

[Illustration: Little Jelly-Fish, commonly called Sarsia, the free

Medusa, of Coryne mirabilis.]

The substance of these animals seems to have hardly more density or

solidity than their native element. I remember showing one to a friend

who had never seen such an animal before, and after watching its

graceful motions for a moment in the glass bowl where it was swimming,

he asked, "Is it anything more than organized water?" The question was

very descriptive; for so little did it seem to differ in substance from

the water in which it floated that one might well fancy that some drops

had taken upon themselves organic structure, and had begun to live and

move. It swims by means of rapid contractions and expansions of its

disk, thus impelling itself through the water, its tentacles floating

behind it and measuring many times the length of the body. The disk is

very convex, as will be seen by the wood-cut; four tubes radiate from

the central cavity to the periphery, where they unite in a circular tube

around the margin and connect also with the four tentacles; from the

centre of the lower surface hangs the proboscis, terminating in a mouth.

Notwithstanding the delicate structure of this little being, it is

exceedingly voracious. It places itself upon the surface of the animal

on which it feeds, and, if it have any hard parts, it simply sucks the

juices, dropping the dead carcass immediately after; but it swallows

whole the little Acalephs of other Species and other soft animals that

come in its way. Early in summer these Jelly-Fishes drop their eggs,

little transparent pear-shaped bodies, covered with vibratile cilia.

They swim about for a time, until they have found a resting-place, where

they attach themselves, each one founding a Hydroid stock of its own,

which will in time produce a new brood of Medusae.

This series of facts, presented here in their connection, had been

observed separately before their true relation was understood.

Investigations had been made on the Hydroid stock, described as

_Coryne_, and upon its Medusoid offspring, described as _Sarsia_, named

after the naturalist Sars, whose beautiful papers upon this class of

animals have associated his name with it; but the investigations by

which all these facts have been associated in one connected series are

very recent. These transformations do not correspond to our common idea

of metamorphoses, as observed in the Insect, for instance. In the

Butterfly's life we have always one and the same individual,--the

Caterpillar passing into the Chrysalis state, and the Chrysalis passing

into the condition of the Winged Insect. But in the case I have been

describing, while the Hydroid gives birth to the Medusa, it still

preserves its own distinct existence; and the different forms developed

on one stock seem to be two parallel lives, and not the various phases

of one and the same life. This group of Hydroids retains the name of

Coryne; and the Medusa born from it, Sarsia, has received, as I have

said, the name of the distinguished investigator to whose labors we owe

much of our present knowledge of these animals.--Let us look now at

another group of Hydroids, whose mode of development is equally curious

and interesting.

The little transparent embryos from which they arise, oval in form, with

a slight, scarcely perceptible depression at one end, resemble the

embryos of Coryne already described. They may be seen in great numbers

in the spring, floating about in the water, or rather swimming,--for the

motion of all Radiates in their earliest stage of existence is rapid and

constant, in consequence of the vibratile cilia that cover the surface.

At this stage of its existence such an embryo is perfectly free, but

presently its wandering life comes to an end; it shows a disposition to

become fixed, and proceeds to choose a suitable resting-place. I use the

word "choose" advisedly; for though at this time the little embryo seems

to have no developed organs, it yet exercises a certain discrimination

in its selection of a home. Slightly pear-shaped in form, it settles

down upon its narrower end; it wavers and sways to and fro, as if trying

to get a firm foothold and force itself down upon the surface to which

it adheres; but presently, as if dissatisfied with the spot it has

chosen, it suddenly breaks loose and swims away to another locality,

where the same examination is repeated, not more to its own satisfaction

apparently, for the creature will renew the experiment half a dozen

times, perhaps, before making a final selection and becoming permanently

attached to the soil. In the course of this process the lower end

becomes flattened, and moulds itself to the shape of the body on which

it rests. Once settled, this animal, thus far hardly more than a

transparent oblong body without any distinct organs, begins to develop

rapidly. It elongates, forming a kind of cup-like base or stem, the

upper end spreads somewhat, the depression at its centre deepens, a

mouth is formed that gapes widely and opens into the digestive cavity,

and the upper margin spreads out to form a number of tentacles, few at

first, but growing more and more numerous till a wreath is completed all

around it. In this condition the young Jelly-Fish has been described

under the name of _Scyphostoma_. As soon as this wreath of tentacles is

formed, a constriction takes place below it, thus separating the upper

portion of the animal from the lower by a marked dividing-line.

Presently a second constriction takes place below the first, then a

third, till the entire length of the animal is divided across by a

number of such transverse constrictions, the whole body growing,

meanwhile, in height. But now an extraordinary change takes place in the

portions thus divided off. Each one assumes a distinct organic

structure, as if it had an individual life of its own. The margin

becomes lobed in eight deep scallops, and a tube or canal runs through

the centre of each such lobe to the centre of the body, where a

digestive cavity is already formed. At this time the constrictions have

deepened, so that the margins of all the successive divisions of the

little Hydroid are very prominent, and the whole animal looks like a

pile of saucers, or of disks with scalloped edges and the convex side

turned downward. Its general aspect may be compared to a string of

Lilac-blossoms, such as the children make for necklaces in the spring,

in which the base of one blossom is inserted into the upper side of the

one below it. In this condition our Jelly-Fish has been called

_Strobila_.

[Illustration: Scyphostoma of Aurelia flavidula, our common white

Jelly-Fish with a rosy cross.]

[Illustration: Strobila of Aurelia flavidula.]

While these organic changes take place in the lower disks, the topmost

one, forming the summit of the pile and bearing the tentacles, undergoes

no such modification, but presently the first constriction dividing it

from the rest deepens to such a degree that it remains united to them by

a mere thread only, and it soon breaks off and dies. This is the signal

for the breaking up of the whole pile in the same way by the deepening

of the constrictions; but, instead of dying, as they part, they begin a

new existence as free Medusae. Only the lowest portion of the body

remains, and around the margin of this tentacles have developed

corresponding to those which crowned the first little embryo; this

repeats the whole history again, growing up during the following season

to divide itself into disks like its predecessor.

[Illustration: Strobila of Aurelia flavidula: a, Scyphostoma reproduced

at the base of a Strobila, bb, all the disks of which have dropped off

but the last.]

As each individual separates from the community of which it has made a

part, it reverses its position, and, instead of turning the margin of

the disk upward, it turns it downward, thus bringing the mouth below and

the curve of the disk above. These free individuals have been described

under the name of _Ephyra_. This is the third phase of the existence of

our Jelly-Fish. It swims freely about, a transparent, umbrella-like

disk, with a proboscis hanging from the lower side, which, to complete

the comparison, we may call the handle of the umbrella. The margin of

the disk is even more deeply lobed than in the Hydroid condition, and in

the middle of each lobe is a second depression, quite deep and narrow,

at the base of which is an eye. How far such organs are gifted with the

power of vision we cannot decide; but the cells of which they are

composed certainly serve the purpose of facets, of lenses and prisms,

and must convey to the animal a more or less distinct perception of

light and color. The lobes are eight in number, as before, with a tube

diverging from the centre of the body into each lobe. Shorter tubes

between the lobes alternate with these, making thus sixteen radiating

tubes, all ramifying more or less.

[Illustration: Ephyra of Aurelia flavidula.]

[Illustration: Aurelia flavidula, the common white Jelly-Fish of our

sea-shores, seen from above: c, mouth; eeeeee, eyes; mmmm, lobes or

curtain of the mouth in outlines; ooo, ovaries; ttt, tentacles; ww

ramified tubes.]

From this stage to its adult condition, the animal undergoes a

succession of changes in the gradual course of its growth,

uninterrupted, however, by any such abrupt transition as that by which

it began its life as a free animal. The lobes are gradually obliterated,

so that the margin becomes almost an unbroken circle. The eight eyes

were, as I have said, at the bottom of depressions in the centre of the

several lobes; but, by the equalizing of the marginal line, the gradual

levelling, as it were, of all the inequalities of the edge, the eyes are

pushed out, and occupy eight spots on the margin, where a faint

indentation only marks what was before a deep cut in the lobe. The eight

tubes of the lobes have extended in like manner to the edge, and join it

just at the point where the eyes are placed, so that the extremity of

each tube unites with the base of each eye. Those parts of the margin

filling the spaces between the eyes correspond to the depressions

dividing the lobes or scallops in the earlier stage, and to those

radiate the eight other tubes alternating with the eye-tubes, now

divided into numerous branches. Along each of these spaces is developed

a fine, delicate fringe of tentacles, hanging down like a veil when the

animal is at rest, or swept back when it is in motion. In the previous

stage, the tubes ramified toward the margin; but now they branch at or

near their point of starting from the central cavity, so extensively

that every part of the body is traversed by these collateral tubes, and

when one looks down at it from above through the gelatinous transparent

disk, the numerous ramifications resemble the fine fibrous structure of

a leaf with its net-work of nervules.

On the lower side, or what I have called in a previous article the oral

region of the animal, a wonderfully complicated apparatus is developed.

The mouth projects in four angles, and at each such angle a curtain

arises, stretching outwardly, and sometimes extending as far as the

margin. These curtains are fringed and folded on the lower edge, so that

they look like four ruffled flounces hanging from the lower side of the

animal. On the upper side of the body, but alternating in position with

these curtains, are the four ovaries, crescent-like in shape, and so

placed as to form the figure of a cross, when seen from above through

the transparency of the disk. I should add, that, though I speak of some

organs as being on the upper and others on the lower side of the body,

all are under the convex, arched surface of the disk, which is

gelatinous throughout, and simply forms a transparent vaulted roof, as

it were, above the rest of the body.

[Illustration: Aurelia flavidula, seen in profile]

When these animals first make their appearance in the spring, they may

be seen, when the sky is clear and the sea smooth, floating in immense

numbers near the surface of the water, though they do not seek the glare

of the sun, but are more often found about sheltered places, in the

neighborhood of wharves or overhanging rocks. As they grow larger, they

lose something of their gregarious disposition,--they scatter more; and

at this time they prefer the sunniest exposures, and like to bask in the

light and warmth. They assume every variety of attitude, but move always

by the regular contraction and expansion of the disk, which rises and

falls with rhythmical alternations, the average number of these

movements being from twelve to fifteen in a minute. There can be no

doubt that they perceive what is going on about them, and are very

sensitive to changes in the state of the atmosphere; for, as soon as the

surface of the water is ruffled, or the sky becomes overcast, they sink

into deeper water, and vanish out of sight. When approached with a

dip-net, it is evident, from the acceleration of their movements, that

they are attempting to escape.

At the spawning season, toward the end of July or the beginning of

August, they gather again in close clusters. At this period I have seen

them at Nahant in large shoals, covering a space of fifty feet or more,

and packed so closely in one unbroken mass that an oar could not be

thrust between them without injuring many. So deep was the phalanx that

I could not ascertain how far it extended below the surface of the

water, and those in the uppermost layer were partially forced out of the

water by the pressure of those below.

It is not strange that the relation between the various phases of this

extraordinary series of metamorphoses, so different from each other in

their external aspects, should not have been recognized at once, and

that this singular Acaleph should have been called Scyphostoma in its

simple Hydroid condition, Strobila after the transverse division of the

body had taken place, Ephyra in the first stages of its free existence,

and Aurelia in its adult state,--being thus described as four distinct

animals. These various forms are now rightly considered as the

successive stages of a development intimately connected in all its

parts,--beginning with the simple Hydroid attached to the ground, and

closing in the shape of our common Aurelia, with its white transparent

disk, its silky fringe of tentacles around the margin, its ruffled

curtains hanging from the mouth, and its four crescent-shaped ovaries

grouped to form a cross on the summit. From these ovaries a new brood of

little embryos is shed in due time.

There are other Hydroids giving rise to Medusae buds, from which,

however, the Medusae do not separate to begin a new life, but wither on

the Hydroid stock, after having come to maturity and dropped their eggs.

Such is the _Hydractinia polyclina_. This curious community begins, like

the preceding ones, with a single little individual, settling upon some

shell or stone, or on the rocks in a tide-pool, where it will sometimes

cover a space of several square feet. Rosy in color, very soft and

delicate in texture, such a growth of Hydractinia spreads a velvet-like

carpet over the rocks on which it occurs. They may be kept in aquariums

with perfect success, and for that purpose it is better to gather them

on single shells or stones, so that the whole community may be removed

unbroken. These colonies of Hydractinia have one very singular

character: they exist in distinct communities, some of which give birth

only to male, others to female individuals. The functions, also, are

divided,--certain members of the community being appointed to special

offices, in which the others do not share. Some bear the Medusae buds,

which in due time become laden with eggs, but, as I have said, wither

and die after the eggs are hatched. Others put forth Hydroid buds only,

while others again are wholly sterile. About the outskirts of the

community are more simple individuals, whose whole body seems to be

hardly more than a double-walled tube, terminating in a knob of

lasso-cells. They are like long tentacles placed where they can most

easily seize the prey that happens to approach the little colony. The

entire community is connected at its base by a horny net-work, uniting

all the Hydroid stems in its meshes, and spreading over the whole

surface on which the colony has established itself.

[Illustration: Hydractinia polyclina: _a_, sterile individual; _b_,

fertile individual, producing female Medusae; _d_, _e_, female Medusae,

containing advanced eggs; _f_, _g_, _h_, _i_, Cluster of female Medusas,

with less advanced eggs; _o_, peduncle of month, with short globular

tentacles; _c_, individual with globular tentacles, upon which no

Medusae have appeared, or from which they have dropped.]

There is a very curious and beautiful animal, or rather community of

animals, closely allied to the _Hydractinia polyclina_, which next

deserves to be noticed. The Portuguese Man-of-War--so called from its

bright-colored crest, which makes it so conspicuous as it sails upon the

water, and the long and various streamers that hang from its lower

side--is such a community of animals as I have just described, reversed

in position, however, with the individuals hanging down, and the base

swollen and expanded to make the air-bladder which forms its brilliant

crested float. In this curious Acalephian Hydroid, or _Physalia_, the

individuality of function is even more marked than in the Hydractinia.

As in the latter, some of the individuals are Medusae-bearing, and

others simple Hydrae; but, beside these, there are certain members of

the community who act as swimmers, to carry it along through the

water,--others that are its purveyors, catching the prey, by which,

however, they profit only indirectly, for others are appointed to eat

it, and these feeders may be seen sometimes actually gorged with the

food they have devoured, and which is then distributed throughout the

community by the process of digestion and circulation.

[Illustration: Physalia, or Portuguese Man-of-War.]

It would be hopeless, even were it desirable, to attempt within the

limits of such an article as this to give the faintest idea of the

number and variety of these Hydroids; and I will therefore say nothing

of the endless host of Tubularians, Campanularians, Sertularians, etc.

They are very abundant along our coast, and will well reward any who

care to study their habits and their singular modes of growth. For their

beauty, simply, it is worth while to examine them. Some are deep red,

others rosy, others purple, others white with a glitter upon them, as if

frosted with silver. Their homes are very various. Some like the fresh,

deep sea-water, while they avoid the dash and tumult of the waves; and

they establish themselves in the depressions on some low ledge of rocks

running far out from the shore, and yet left bare for an hour or two,

when the tide is out. In such a depression, forming a stony cup filled

with purest sea-water, overhung by a roof of rock, which may be fringed

by a heavy curtain of brown sea-weed, the rosy-headed, branching

Eudendrium, one of the prettiest of the Tubularians, may be found.

Others like the tide-pools, higher up on the rocks, that are freshened

by the waves only when the tide is full: such are the small, creeping

Campanularians. Others, again, like the tiny Dynamena, prefer the

rougher action of the sea; and they settle upon the sides of rents and

fissures in the cliffs along the shore, where even in calm weather the

waves rush in and out with a certain degree of violence, broken into

eddies by the abrupt character of the rocks. Others seek the broad

fronds of the larger sea-weeds, and are lashed up and down upon their

spreading branches, as they rock to and fro with the motion of the sea.

Many live in sheltered harbors, attaching themselves to floating logs,

or to the keels of vessels; and some are even so indifferent to the

freshness of the water that they may be found in numbers along the

city-wharves.[4]

Beside the Jelly-Fishes arising from Hydroids, there are many others

resembling these in all the essential features of their structure, but

differing in their mode of development; for, although more or less

Polyp-like when first born from the egg, they never become attached, nor

do they ever bud or divide, but reach their mature condition without any

such striking metamorphoses as those that characterize the development

of the Hydroid Acalephs. All the Medusas, whether they arise from buds

on the Hydroid stock, like the Sarsia, or from transverse division of

the Hydroid form, like the Aurelia, or grow directly from the egg to

maturity, without pausing in the Hydroid phase, like the Campanella,

agree in the general division and relation of parts. All have a central

cavity, from which arise radiating tubes extending to the margin of the

umbrella-like disk, where they unite either in a net-work of meshes or

in a single circular tube. But there is a great difference in the oral

apparatus; the elaborate ruffled curtains, that hang from the corners of

the mouth, occur only in the Species arising from the transverse

division of the Polyp-like young. For this reason they are divided into

two Orders,--the Hydroids and the Discophorae.

The third Order, the Ctenophorae, are among the most beautiful of the

Acalephs. I have spoken of the various hues they assume when in motion,

and I will add one word of the peculiarity in their structure which

causes this effect. The Ctenophorae differ from the Jelly-Fishes

described above in sending off from the main cavity only two main tubes,

instead of four like the others; but each of these tubes divides and

subdivides in four branches as it approaches the periphery. From the

eight branches produced in this way there arise vertical tubes extending

in opposite directions up and down the sides of the body. Along these

vertical tubes run the rows of little locomotive oars, or combs, as they

have been called, from which these animals derive their name of

Ctenophorae. The rapid motion of these flappers causes the decomposition

of the rays of light along the surface of the body, producing the most

striking prismatic effect; and it is no exaggeration to say that no

jewel is brighter than these Ctenophorae as they move through the water.

[Illustration: Idyia roseola; one of our Ctenophorae: a, anal aperture;

b, radiating tube; c, circular tube; d, e, f, g, h, rows of locomotive

fringes.]

* * * * *

I trust I have succeeded in showing that the three Orders of the

Acalephs are, like the five Orders of the Echinoderms, different degrees

of complication of the same structure. In the Hydroids, the organization

does not rise above the simple digestive cavity inclosed by the double

body-wall; and we might not suspect their relation to the Acalephs, did

we not see the Jelly-Fish born from the Hydroid stock. In the

Hydroid-Medusae and Discophorae, instead of a simple digestive sac, as

in the Hydroids, we have a cavity sending off tubes toward the

periphery, which ramify more or less in their course. Now whether there

are four tubes or eight, whether they ramify extensively or not, whether

there are more or less complicated appendages around the margin or the

mouth, makes no difference in the essential structure of these bodies.

They are all disk-like in outline, they all have tentacles hanging from

the margin, and a central cavity from which tubes diverge that divide

the body into a certain number of portions, bearing in all the same

relation to each other and to the central cavity. In the Ctenophorae,

another complication of structure is introduced in the combination of

vertical with horizontal tubes and the external appendages accompanying

them.

But, whatever their differences may be, a very slight effort of the

imagination only is needed to transform any one of these forms into any

other. Reverse the position of any simple Hydra, so that the tentacles

hang down from the margin, and let four tubes radiate from the central

cavity to the periphery, and we have the lowest form of Jelly-Fish.

Expand the cup of the Hydra to form a gelatinous disk, increase the

number of tubes, complicate their ramifications, let eyes be developed

along the margin, add some external appendages, and we have the

Discophore. Elongate the disk in order to give the body an oval form,

diminish the number of main tubes, and let them give off vertical as

well as horizontal branches, and we have the Ctenophore.

In the Class of Polyps there are but two Orders,--the Actinoids and the

Halcyonoids; and I have already said so much of the structure of Polyps

that I think I need not repeat my remarks here in order to show the

relation between these groups. The body of all Polyps consists of a sac

divided into chambers by vertical partitions, and having a wreath of

hollow tentacles around the summit, each one of which opens into one of

the chambers. The greater complication of these parts and their

limitation in definite numbers constitute the characters upon which

their superiority or inferiority of structure is based. Here the

comparison is easily made; it is simply the complication and number of

identical parts that make the difference between the Orders. The

Actinoids stand lowest from the simple character and indefinite increase

of these parts; while the Halcyonoids, with their eight lobed tentacles,

corresponding to the same number of internal divisions, are placed above

them.

We have the key-note to the common structure of the three Classes whose

Orders we have been comparing in the name of the division to which they

all belong: they are _Radiates._ The idea of radiation lies at the

foundation of all these animals, whatever be their form or substance.

Whether stony, like the Corals, or soft, like the Sea-Anemone, or

gelatinous and transparent, like the Jelly-Fish, or hard and brittle,

like the Sea-Urchins,--whether round or oblong or cylindrical or

stellate, in all, the internal structure obeys this law of radiation.

Not only is this true in a general way, but the comparison may be traced

in all the details. One may ask how the narrow radiating tubes of the

Acalephs, traversing the gelatinous mass of the body, can be compared to

the wide radiating chambers of the Polyp; and yet nothing is more simple

than to thicken the partitions in the Polyps so much as to narrow the

chambers between them, till they form narrow alleys instead of wide

spaces, and then we have the tubes of the Jelly-Fish. In the Jelly-Fish

there is a circular tube around the margin into which all the radiating

tubes open. What have we to compare with this in the Polyps? The outer

edge of each partition in the Polyp is pierced by a hole near the

margin. Of course when the partition is thickened, this hole, remaining

open, becomes a tube; for what is a tube but an elongated hole? The

comparison of the Acalephs with the Echinoderms is still easier, for

they both have tubes; but in the latter the tubes are inclosed in walls

of their own, instead of traversing the mass of the body, as in

Acalephs, etc.

* * * * *

In preparing these articles on the homologies of Radiates, I have felt

the difficulty of divesting my subject of the technicalities which cling

to all scientific results, until they are woven into the tissue of our

every-day knowledge and assume the familiar garb of our common

intellectual property. When the forms of animals are as familiar to

children as their A, B, C, and the intelligent study of Natural History,

from the objects themselves, and not from text-books alone, is

introduced into all our schools, we shall have popular names for things

that can now only be approached with a certain professional stateliness

on account of their technical nomenclature. The best result of such

familiarity with Nature will be the recognition of an intellectual unity

holding together all the various forms of life as parts of one Creative

Conception.

[Footnote 3: See lower wood-cut, p. 294, _d_.]

[Footnote 4: Those who care to know more of the habits and structure of

these animals will find more detailed descriptions of all the various

species, illustrated by numerous plates, in the fourth volume of my

_Contributions to the Natural History of the United States,_ just

published.]

GABRIEL'S DEFEAT.

In exploring among dusty files of newspapers for the true records of

Denmark Vesey and Nat Turner, I have caught occasional glimpses of a

plot perhaps more wide in its outlines than that of either, which has

lain obscure in the darkness of half a century, traceable only in the

political events which dated from it, and the utter incorrectness of the

scanty traditions which assumed to preserve it. And though researches in

public libraries have only proved to me how rapidly the materials for

American history are vanishing,--since not one of our great institutions

possesses, for instance, a file of any Southern newspaper of the year

1800,--yet the little which I have gained may have an interest which

makes it worth preserving. I have never been able to see why American

historians should be driven to foreign lands for subjects, when our own

nation has furnished tyrannies more terrible than that of Philip of

Spain, and heroes more silent than William of Orange,--or why our

novelists must seek themes in Italy, on the theory avowed by one of the

most gifted of their number, that this country is given over to a "broad

commonplace prosperity," and harbors "no picturesque or gloomy wrong."

But since, as the Spanish proverb says, no man can at the same time ring

the bells and walk in the procession, so it has perhaps happened that

those most qualified to record the romance of slave-institutions have

been thus far too busy in dealing with the reality.

Three times, at intervals of thirty years, has a wave of unutterable

terror swept across the Old Dominion, bringing thoughts of agony to

every Virginian master, and of vague hope to every Virginian slave. Each

time has one man's name become a spell of dismay and a symbol of

deliverance. Each time has that name eclipsed its predecessor, while

recalling it for a moment to fresher memory: John Brown revived the

story of Nat Turner, as in his day Nat Turner recalled the vaster

schemes of Gabriel.

On September 8th, 1800, a Virginia correspondent wrote thus to the

Philadelphia "United States Gazette":--

"For the week past, we have been under momentary expectation of a

rising among the negroes, who have assembled to the number of nine

hundred or a thousand, and threatened to massacre all the whites.

They are armed with desperate weapons, and secrete themselves in the

woods. God only knows our fate; we have strong guards every night

under arms."

It was no wonder, if there were foundation for such rumors. Liberty was

the creed or the cant of the day. France was being rocked by revolution,

and England by Clarkson. In America, slavery was habitually recognized

as a misfortune and an error, only to be palliated by the nearness of

its expected end. How freely anti-slavery pamphlets had been circulated

in Virginia we know from the priceless volumes collected and annotated

by Washington, and now preserved in the Boston Athenaeum. Jefferson's

"Notes on Virginia," itself an anti-slavery tract, had passed through

seven editions. Judge St. George Tucker, law-professor in William and

Mary College, had recently published his noble work, "A Dissertation on

Slavery, with a Proposal for the Gradual Abolition of it in the State of

Virginia." From all this agitation a slave insurrection was a mere

corollary. With so much electricity in the air, a single flash of

lightning foreboded all the terrors of the tempest. Let but a single

armed negro be seen or suspected, and at once on many a lonely

plantation there were trembling hands at work to bar doors and windows

that seldom had been even closed before, and there was shuddering when a

gray squirrel scrambled over the roof, or a shower of walnuts came down

clattering from the overhanging boughs.

Early in September, 1800, as a certain Mr. Moseley Sheppard, of Henrico

County in Virginia, was one day sitting in his counting-room, two

negroes knocked at the door and were let in. They shut the door

themselves, and began to unfold an insurrectionary plot, which was

subsequently repeated by one of them, named Ben Woodfolk or Woolfolk, in

presence of the court, on the fifteenth of the same month.

He stated that about the first of the preceding June he had been asked

by a negro named Colonel George whether he would like to be made a

Mason. He refused; but George ultimately prevailed on him to have an

interview with a certain leading man among the blacks, named Gabriel.

Arrived at the place of meeting, he found many persons assembled, to

whom a preliminary oath was administered, that they would keep secret

all which they might hear. The leaders then began, to the dismay of this

witness, to allude to a plan of insurrection, which, as they stated, was

already far advanced toward maturity. Presently a man named Martin,

Gabriel's brother, proposed religious services, caused the company to be

duly seated, and began an impassioned exposition of Scripture, bearing

upon the perilous theme. The Israelites were glowingly portrayed as a

type of successful resistance to tyranny; and it was argued, that now,

as then, God would stretch forth His arm to save, and would strengthen a

hundred to overthrow a thousand. Thus passed, the witness stated, this

preparatory meeting. At a subsequent gathering the affair was brought to

a point, and the only difficult question was, whether to rise in

rebellion upon a certain Saturday, or upon the Sunday following. Gabriel

said that Saturday was the day already fixed, and that it must not be

altered; but George was for changing it to Sunday, as being more

convenient for the country negroes, who could travel on that day without

suspicion. Gabriel, however, said decisively that they had enough to

carry Richmond without them, and Saturday was therefore retained as the

momentous day.

This was the confession, so far as it is now accessible; and on the

strength of it Ben Woolfolk was promptly pardoned by the court for all

his sins, past, present, or to come, and they proceeded with their

investigation. Of Gabriel little appeared to be known, except that he

had been the property of Thomas Prosser, a young man who had recently

inherited a plantation a few miles from Richmond, and who had the

reputation among his neighbors of "behaving with great barbarity to his

slaves." Gabriel was, however, reported to be "a fellow of courage and

intellect above his rank in life,"--to be about twenty-five years of

age,--and to be guiltless of the alphabet.

Further inquiry made it appear that the preparations of the insurgents

were hardly adequate to any grand revolutionary design,--at least, if

they proposed to begin with open warfare. The commissariat may have been

well organized, for black Virginians are apt to have a prudent eye to

the larder; but the ordnance department and the treasury were as low as

if Secretary Floyd had been in charge of them. A slave called "Prosser's

Ben" testified that he went with Gabriel to see Ben Woolfolk, who was

going to Caroline County to enlist men, and that "Gabriel gave him three

shillings for himself and three other negroes, to be expended in

recruiting men." Their arms and ammunition, so far as reported,

consisted of a peck of bullets, ten pounds of powder, and twelve

scythe-swords, made by Gabriel's brother Solomon, and fitted with

handles by Gabriel himself. "These cutlasses," said subsequently a white

eyewitness, "are made of scythes cut in two and fixed into well-turned

handles. I have never seen arms so murderous. Those who still doubt the

importance of the conspiracy which has been so fortunately frustrated

would shudder with horror at the sight of these instruments of death."

And as it presently appeared that a conspirator named Scott had

astonished his master by accidentally pulling ten dollars from a ragged

pocket which seemed inadequate to the custody of ten cents, it was

agreed that the plot might still be dangerous, even though the resources

seemed limited.

And indeed, as was soon discovered, the effective weapon of the

insurgents lay in the very audacity of their plan. The scheme, as it

existed in the mind of Gabriel, was as elaborate as that of Denmark

Vesey, and as thorough as that of Nat Turner. If the current statements

of all the Virginia letter-writers were true, "nothing could have been

better contrived." It was to have taken effect on the first day of

September. The rendezvous for the blacks was to be a brook six miles

from Richmond. Eleven hundred men were to assemble there, and were to be

divided into three columns, their officers having been designated in

advance. All were to march on Richmond,--then a town of eight thousand

inhabitants,--under cover of night. The right wing was instantly to

seize upon the penitentiary building, just converted into an arsenal;

while the left wing was to take possession of the powder-house. These

two columns were to be armed chiefly with clubs, as their undertaking

depended for success upon surprise, and was expected to prevail without

hard fighting. But it was the central force, armed with muskets,

cutlasses, knives, and pikes, upon which the chief responsibility

rested; these men were to enter the town at both ends simultaneously,

and begin a general carnage, none being excepted save the French

inhabitants, who were supposed for some reason to be friendly to the

negroes. In a very few hours, it was thought, they would have entire

control of the metropolis. And that this hope was not in the least

unreasonable was shown by the subsequent confessions of weakness from

the whites. "They could scarcely have failed of success," wrote the

Richmond Correspondent of the Boston "Chronicle," "for, after all, we

could only muster four or five hundred men, of whom not more than thirty

had muskets."

For the insurgents, if successful, the penitentiary held several

thousand stand of arms; the powder-house was well stocked; the capitol

contained the State treasury; the mills would give them bread; the

control of the bridge across James River would keep off enemies from

beyond. Thus secured and provided, they planned to issue proclamations

summoning to their standard "their fellow-negroes and the friends of

humanity throughout the continent." In a week, it was estimated, they

would have fifty thousand men on their side, with which force they could

easily possess themselves of other towns; and, indeed, a slave named

John Scott--possibly the dangerous possessor of the ten dollars--was

already appointed to head the attack on Petersburg. But in case of final

failure, the project included a retreat to the mountains, with their

new-found property. John Brown was therefore anticipated by Gabriel,

sixty years before, in believing the Virginia mountains to have been

"created, from the foundation of the world, as a place of refuge for

fugitive slaves."

These are the statements of the contemporary witnesses; they are

repeated in many newspapers of the year 1800, and are in themselves

clear and consistent. Whether they are on the whole exaggerated or

understated, it is now impossible to say. It is certain that a Richmond

paper of September 12th (quoted in the "New York Gazette" of September

18th) declares that "the plot has been entirely exploded, which was

shallow; and had the attempt been made to carry it into execution, but

little resistance would have been required to render the scheme entirely

abortive." But it is necessary to remember that this is no more than the

Charleston newspapers said at the very crisis of Denmark Vesey's

formidable plot. "Last evening," wrote a lady from Charleston in 1822,

"twenty-five hundred of our citizens were under arms to guard our

property and lives. But it is a subject _not to be mentioned_ [so

underscored]; and unless you hear of it elsewhere, say nothing about

it." Thus it is always hard to know whether to assume the facts of an

insurrection as above or below the estimates. This Virginian excitement

also happened at a period of intense political agitation, and was seized

upon as a boon by the Federalists. The very article above quoted is

ironically headed, "Holy Insurrection," and takes its motto from

Jefferson, with profuse capital letters,--"The Spirit of the Master is

abating, that of the Slave rising from the dust, his condition

mollifying."

In view of the political aspect thus given to the plot, and of its

ingenuity and thoroughness likewise, the Virginians were naturally

disposed to attribute to white men some share in it; and speculation

presently began to run wild. The newspapers were soon full of theories,

no two being alike, and no one credible. The plot originated, some said,

in certain handbills written by Jefferson's friend Callender, then in

prison at Richmond on a charge of sedition; these were circulated by two

French negroes, aided by a "United Irishman," calling himself a

Methodist preacher,--and it was in consideration of these services that

no Frenchman was to be injured by the slaves. When Gabriel was arrested,

the editor of the "United States Gazette" affected much diplomatic

surprise that no letters were _yet_ found upon his person "from Fries,

Gallatin, or Duane, nor was he at the time of his capture accompanied by

any United Irishman." "He, however, acknowledges that there are others

concerned, and that he is not the principal instigator." All Federalists

agreed that the Southern Democratic talk was constructive

insurrection,--which it certainly was,--and they painted graphic

pictures of noisy "Jacobins" over their wine, and eager, dusky listeners

behind their chairs. "It is evident that the French principles of

liberty and equality have been effused into the minds of the negroes,

and that the incautious and intemperate use of the words by some whites

among us have inspired them with hopes of success." "While the fiery

Hotspurs of the State vociferate their _French babble_ of the natural

equality of man, the insulted negro will be constantly stimulated to

cast away his cords and to sharpen his pike." "It is, moreover,

believed, though not positively known, that a great many of our

profligate and abandoned whites (who are distinguished by the burlesque

appellation of _Democrats_) are implicated with the blacks, and would

have joined them, if they had commenced their operations.... The Jacobin

printers and their friends are panic-struck. Never was terror more

strongly depicted in the countenances of men." These extracts from three

different Federalist newspapers show the amiable emotions of that side

of the house; while Democratic Duane, in the "Aurora," could find no

better repartee than to attribute the whole trouble to the policy of the

Administration in renewing commercial intercourse with San Domingo.

I have discovered in the Norfolk "Epitome of the Times," for October 9,

1800, a remarkable epistle written from Richmond jail by the unfortunate

Callender himself. He indignantly denies the charges against the

Democrats, of complicity in dangerous plots, boldly retorting them upon

the Federalists. "An insurrection at this critical moment by the negroes

of the Southern States would have thrown everything into confusion, and

consequently it was to have prevented the choice of electors in the

whole or the greater part of the States to the south of the Potomac.

Such a disaster must have tended directly to injure the interests of Mr.

Jefferson, and to promote the slender possibility of a second election

of Mr. Adams." And, to be sure, the "United States Gazette" followed up

the thing with a good, single-minded party malice which cannot be

surpassed in these present days, ending in such altitudes of sublime

coolness as the following:--"The insurrection of the negroes in the

Southern States, which appears to be organized on the true French plan,

must be decisive with every reflecting man in those States of the

election of Mr. Adams and General Pinckney. The military skill and

approved bravery of the General must be peculiarly valuable to his

countrymen at these trying moments." Let us have a military

Vice-President, by all means, to meet this formidable exigency of

Gabriel's peck of bullets, and this unexplained three shillings in the

pocket of "Prosser's Ben"!

But Gabriel's campaign failed, like that of the Federalists, and the

appointed day brought disasters more fatal than even the sword of

General Pinckney. The affrighted negroes declared that "the stars in

their courses fought against Sisera." The most furious tempest ever

known in Virginia burst upon the land that day, instead of an

insurrection. Roads and plantations were submerged. Bridges were carried

away. The fords, which then, as now, were the ordinary substitutes for

bridges in that region, were rendered wholly impassable. The Brook

Swamp, one of the most important strategic points of the insurgents, was

entirely inundated, hopelessly dividing Prosser's farm from Richmond;

the country negroes could not get in, nor those from the city get out.

The thousand men dwindled to a few hundred,--and these half paralyzed by

superstition; there was nothing to do but to dismiss them, and before

they could reassemble they were betrayed.

That the greatest alarm was instantly created throughout the community,

there is no question. All the city of Richmond was in arms, and in all

large towns of the State the night-patrol was doubled. It is a little

amusing to find it formally announced, that "the Governor, impressed

with the magnitude of the danger, has appointed for himself three

Aides-de-camp." A troop of United States cavalry was ordered to

Richmond. Numerous arrests were made. Men were convicted on one day and

hanged on the next,--five, six, ten, fifteen at a time, almost without

evidence. Three hundred dollars were offered by Governor Monroe for the

arrest of Gabriel; as much more for another chief named Jack Bowler,

_alias_ Ditcher; whereupon Bowler, _alias_ Ditcher, surrendered himself,

but it took some weeks to get upon the track of Gabriel. He was finally

captured at Norfolk, on board a schooner just arrived from Richmond, in

whose hold he had concealed himself for eleven days, having thrown

overboard a bayonet and bludgeon, which were his only arms. Crowds of

people collected to see him, including many of his own color. He was

arrested on September 24th, convicted on October 3d, and executed on

October 7th; and it is known of him further only, that, like almost all

leaders of slave insurrections, he showed a courage which his enemies

could not gainsay. "When he was apprehended, he manifested the greatest

marks of firmness and confidence, showing not the least disposition to

equivocate or screen himself from justice,"--but making no confession

that could implicate any one else. "The behavior of Gabriel under his

misfortunes," said the Norfolk "Epitome" of September 25th, "was such as

might be expected from a mind capable of forming the daring project

which he had conceived." The "United States Gazette" for October 9th

states, more sarcastically, that "the General is said to have manifested

the utmost composure, and with the true spirit of heroism seems ready to

resign his high office, and even his life, rather than gratify the

officious inquiries of the Governor."

Some of these newspapers suggest that the authorities found it good

policy to omit the statement made by Gabriel, whatever it was. At any

rate, he assured them that he was by no means the sole instigator of the

affair; he could name numbers, even in Norfolk, who were more deeply

concerned. To his brother Solomon he is said to have stated that the

real head of the plot was Jack Bowler. Still another leader was "General

John Scott," already mentioned, the slave of Mr. Greenhow, hired by Mr.

McCrea. He was captured by his employer in Norfolk, just as he was

boldly entering a public conveyance to escape; and the Baltimore

"Telegraphe" declared that he had a written paper directing him to apply

to Alexander Biddenhurst or Weddenhurst in Philadelphia, "corner of

Coats Alley and Budd Street, who would supply his needs." What became of

this military individual, or of his Philadelphia sympathizers, does not

appear. But it was noticed, as usually happens in such cases, that all

the insurgents had previously passed for saints. "It consists within my

knowledge," says one letter-writer, "that many of these wretches who

were or would have been partakers in the plot have been treated with the

utmost tenderness by their masters, and were more like children than

slaves."

These appear to be all the details now accessible of this once famous

plot. They were not very freely published even at the time. "The

minutiae of the conspiracy have not been detailed to the public," said

the "Salem Gazette" of October 7th, "and, perhaps, through a mistaken

notion of prudence and policy, will not be detailed, in the Richmond

papers." The New York "Commercial Advertiser" of October 13th was still

more explicit. "The trials of the negroes concerned in the late

insurrection are suspended until the opinions of the Legislature can be

had on the subject. This measure is said to be owing to the immense

numbers who are interested in the plot, whose death, should they all be

found guilty and be executed, will nearly produce the annihilation of

the blacks in this part of the country." And in the next issue of the

same journal a Richmond correspondent makes a similar statement, with

the following addition:--

"A conditional amnesty is perhaps expected. At the next session of

the Legislature [of Virginia] they took into consideration the

subject referred to them, in secret session, with closed doors. The

whole result of their deliberations has never yet been made public,

as the injunction of secrecy has never been removed. To satisfy the

court, the public, and themselves, they had a task so difficult to

perform, that it is not surprising that their deliberations were in

secret."

It is a matter of historical interest to know that in these mysterious

sessions lay the germs of the American Colonization Society. A

correspondence was at once secretly commenced between the Governor of

Virginia and the President of the United States, with a view to securing

a grant of land whither troublesome slaves might be banished. Nothing

came of it then; but in 1801, 1802, and 1804, these attempts were

renewed. And finally, on January 22d, 1805, the following vote was

passed, still in secret session:--"_Resolved_, that the Senators of this

State in the Congress of the United States be instructed, and the

Representatives be requested, to use their best efforts for the

obtaining from the General Government a competent portion of territory

in the State of Louisiana, to be appropriated to the residence of such

people of color as have been or shall be emancipated, or hereafter may

become dangerous to the public safety," etc. But of all these efforts

nothing was known till their record was accidentally discovered by

Charles Fenton Mercer in 1816. He at once brought the matter to light,

and moved a similar resolution in the Virginia Legislature; it was

almost unanimously adopted, and the first formal meeting of the

Colonization Society, in 1817, was called "in aid" of this Virginia

movement. But the whole correspondence was never made public until the

Nat-Turner insurrection of 1831 recalled the previous excitement, and

these papers were demanded by Mr. Summers, a member of the Legislature,

who described them as "having originated in a convulsion similar to that

which had recently, but more terribly, occurred."

But neither these subsequent papers, nor any documents which now appear

accessible, can supply any authentic or trustworthy evidence as to the

real extent of the earlier plot. It certainly was not confined to the

mere environs of Richmond. The Norfolk "Epitome" of October 6th states

that on the sixth and seventh of the previous month one hundred and

fifty blacks, including twenty from Norfolk, were assembled near

Whitlock's Mills in Suffolk County, and remained in the neighborhood

till the failure of the Richmond plan became known. Petersburg

newspapers also had letters containing similar tales. Then the alarm

spread more widely. Near Edenton, N.C., there was undoubtedly a real

insurrection, though promptly suppressed; and many families ultimately

removed from that vicinity in consequence. In Charleston, S.C., there

was still greater excitement, if the contemporary press may be trusted;

it was reported that the freeholders had been summoned to appear in

arms, on penalty of a fine of fifteen pounds, which many preferred to

pay rather than risk taking the fever which then prevailed. These

reports were, however, zealously contradicted in letters from

Charleston, dated October 8th, and the Charleston newspapers up to

September 17th had certainly contained no reference to any especial

excitement. This alone might not settle the fact, for reasons already

given. But the omission of any such affair from the valuable pamphlet

containing reminiscences of insurrections in South Carolina, published

in 1822 by Edwin C. Holland, is presumptive evidence that no very

extended agitation occurred.

But wherever there was a black population, slave or emancipated, men's

startled consciences made cowards of them all, and recognized the negro

as a dangerous man, because an injured one. In Philadelphia it was

seriously proposed to prohibit the use of sky-rockets for a time,

because they had been employed as signals in San Domingo. "Even in

Boston," said the New York "Daily Advertiser" of September 20th, "fears

are expressed, and measures of prevention adopted." This probably refers

to a singular advertisement which appeared in some of the Boston

newspapers on September 16th, and runs as follows:--

"NOTICE TO BLACKS.

"The officers of the police having made returns to the subscriber of

the names of the following persons who are Africans or negroes, not

subjects of the Emperor of Morocco nor citizens of any of the United

States, the same are hereby warned and directed to depart out of this

Commonwealth before the tenth day of October next, as they would

avoid the pains and penalties of the law in that case provided, which

was passed by the Legislature March 26, 1788.

"CHARLES BULFINCH,

"Superintendent.

"By order and direction of the Selectmen."

The names annexed are about three hundred, with the places of their

supposed origin, and they occupy a column of the paper. So at least

asserts the "United States Gazette" of September 23d. "It seems

probable," adds the editor, "from the nature of the notice, that some

suspicion of the design of the negroes is entertained, and we regret to

say there is too much cause." The law of 1788 above mentioned was "an

act for suppressing rogues, vagabonds, and the like," which forbade all

persons of African descent, unless citizens of some one of the United

States or subjects of the Emperor of Morocco, from remaining more than

two months within the Commonwealth, on penalty of imprisonment and hard

labor. This singular statute remained unrepealed until 1834.

Amid the general harmony in the contemporary narratives of Gabriel's

insurrection, it would be improper to pass by one exceptional legend,

which by some singular fatality has obtained more circulation than all

the true accounts put together. I can trace it no farther back than Nat

Turner's time, when it was published in the Albany "Evening Journal";

thence transferred to the "Liberator" of September 17th, 1831, and many

other newspapers; then refuted in detail by the "Richmond Enquirer" of

October 21st; then resuscitated in the John-Brown epoch by the

Philadelphia "Press," and extensively copied. It is fresh, spirited, and

full of graphic and interesting details, nearly every one of which is

altogether false.

Gabriel in this narrative becomes a rather mythical being, of vast

abilities and life-long preparations. He bought his freedom, it is

stated, at the age of twenty-one, and then travelled all over the

Southern States, enlisting confederates and forming stores of arms. At

length his plot was discovered, in consequence of three negroes' having

been seen riding out of a stable-yard together; and the Governor offered

a reward of ten thousand dollars for further information, to which a

Richmond gentleman added as much more. Gabriel concealed himself on

board the Sally Ann, a vessel just sailing for San Domingo, and was

revealed by his little nephew, whom he had sent for a jug of rum.

Finally the narrative puts an eloquent dying speech into Gabriel's

mouth, and, to give a properly tragic consummation, causes him to be

torn to death by four wild horses. The last item is, however, omitted in

the more recent reprints of the story.

Every one of these statements appears to be absolutely erroneous.

Gabriel lived and died a slave, and was probably never out of Virginia.

His plot was voluntarily revealed by accomplices. The rewards offered

for his arrest amounted to three hundred dollars only. He concealed

himself on board the schooner Mary, bound to Norfolk, and was discovered

by the police. He died on the gallows, with ten associates, having made

no address to the court or the people. All the errors of the statement

were contradicted when it was first made public, but they have proved

very hard to kill.

It is stated at the close of this newspaper romance,--and it may

nevertheless be true,--that these events were embodied in a song bearing

the same title with this essay, "Gabriel's Defeat," and set to a tune of

the same name, both being composed by a colored man. The reporter claims

to have heard it in Virginia, as a favorite air at the dances of the

white people, as well as in the huts of the slaves. It would certainly

be one of history's strange parallelisms, if this fatal enterprise, like

that of John Brown afterwards, should thus triumphantly have embalmed

itself in music. But I have found no other trace of such a piece of

border-minstrelsy, and it is probable that even this plaintive memorial

has at length disappeared.

Yet, twenty-two years after these events their impression still remained

vivid enough for Benjamin Lundy, in Tennessee, to write,--"So well had

they matured their plot, and so completely had they organized their

system of operations, that nothing but a seemingly miraculous

intervention of the arm of Providence was supposed to have been capable

of saving the city from pillage and flames, and the inhabitants thereof

from butchery. So dreadful was the alarm and so great the consternation

produced on this occasion, that a member of Congress from that State was

some time after heard to express himself in his place as follows: 'The

night-bell is never heard to toll in the city of Richmond but the

anxious mother presses her infant more closely to her bosom.'" The

Congressman was John Randolph of Roanoke, and it was Gabriel who had

taught him the lesson.

And longer than the melancholy life of that wayward statesman,--down

even to the beginning of the present civil war, and perhaps to this very

moment,--there lingered in Richmond a memorial of those days, most

peculiar and most instructive. Before the days of Secession, when the

Northern traveller in Virginia, after traversing for weary leagues its

miry ways, its desolate fields, and its flowery forests, rode at last

into its metropolis,--now slowly expanded into a city of twenty-eight

thousand inhabitants,--he was sure to be guided erelong to visit its

stately Capitol, modelled by Jefferson, when French minister, from the

Maison Carrée. Standing before it, he might admire undisturbed the

Grecian outline of its exterior, or criticize at will the unsightly

cheapness of its stucco imitations; but he found himself forbidden to

enter, save by passing an armed and uniformed sentinel at the door-way.

No other State of the Union has thus found it necessary in time of

profoundest quiet to protect its State-House by a permanent cordon of

bayonets; indeed, the Constitution expressly prohibits to any State a

standing army, however small. Yet there for sixty years has stood

sentinel the "Public Guard" of Virginia, wearing the suicidal motto of

that decaying Commonwealth, "_Sic semper Tyrannis_"; and when one asked

the origin of the precaution, one learned that it was the lasting

memorial of Gabriel's insurrection, the stern heritage of terror

bequeathed by his defeat.

BETHEL.

We mustered at midnight, in darkness we formed,

And the whisper went round of a fort to be stormed;

But no drum-beat had called us, no trumpet we heard,

And no voice of command, but our Colonel's low word,--

"Column! Forward!"

And out, through the mist and the murk of the morn,

From the beaches of Hampton our barges were borne;

And we heard not a sound, save the sweep of the oar,

Till the word of our Colonel came up from the shore,--

"Column! Forward!"

With hearts bounding bravely, and eyes all alight,

As ye dance to soft music, so trod we, that night;

Through the aisles of the greenwood, with vines overarched,

Tossing dew-drops, like gems, from our feet, as we marched,--

"Column! Forward!"

As ye dance with the damsels, to viol and flute,

So we skipped from the shadows, and mocked their pursuit;

But the soft zephyrs chased us, with scents of the morn,

As we passed by the hay-fields and green waving corn,--

"Column! Forward!"

For the leaves were all laden with fragrance of June,

And the flowers and the foliage with sweets were in tune;

And the air was so calm, and the forest so dumb,

That we heard our own heart-beats, like taps of a drum,--

"Column! Forward!"

Till the lull of the lowlands was stirred by a breeze,

And the buskins of Morn brushed the tops of the trees,

And the glintings of glory that slid from her track

By the sheen of our rifles were gayly flung back,--

"Column! Forward!"

And the woodlands grew purple with sunshiny mist,

And the blue-crested hill-tops with rose-light were kissed,

And the earth gave her prayers to the sun in perfumes,

Till we marched as through gardens, and trampled on blooms,--

"Column! Forward!"

Ay! trampled on blossoms, and seared the sweet breath

Of the greenwood with low-brooding vapors of death;

O'er the flowers and the corn we were borne like a blast,

And away to the fore-front of battle we passed,--

"Column! Forward!"

For the cannon's hoarse thunder roared out from the glades,

And the sun was like lightning on banners and blades,

When the long line of chanting Zouaves, like a flood,

From the green of the woodlands rolled, crimson as blood,--

"Column! Forward!"

While the sound of their song, like the surge of the seas,

With the "Star-Spangled Banner" swelled over the leas;

And the sword of DURYEA, like a torch, led the way,

Bearing down on the batteries of Bethel, that day,--[5]

"Column! Forward!"

Through green-tasselled cornfields our columns were thrown,

And like corn by the red scythe of fire we were mown;

While the cannon's fierce ploughings new-furrowed the plain,

That our blood might be planted for LIBERTY'S grain,--

"Column! Forward!"

Oh! the fields of fair June have no lack of sweet flowers,

But their rarest and best breathe no fragrance like ours;

And the sunshine of June, sprinkling gold on the corn,

Hath no harvest that ripeneth like BETHEL'S red morn,--

"Column! Forward!"

When our heroes, like bridegrooms, with lips and with breath,

Drank the first kiss of Danger and clasped her in death;

And the heart of brave WINTHROP grew mute, with his lyre,

When the plumes of his genius lay moulting in fire,--

"Column! Forward!"

Where he fell shall be sunshine as bright as his name,

And the grass where he slept shall be green as his fame;

For the gold of the Pen and the steel of the Sword

Write his deeds--in his blood--on the land he adored,--

"Column! Forward!"

And the soul of our comrade shall sweeten the air,

And the flowers and the grass-blades his memory upbear;

While the breath of his genius, like music in leaves,

With the corn-tassels whispers, and sings in the sheaves,--

"Column! Forward!"

[Footnote 5: The march on Bethel was begun in high spirits at midnight,

but it was near noon when the Zouaves, in their crimson garments, led by

Colonel Duryea, charged the batteries, after singing the "Star-Spangled

Banner" in chords. Major Winthrop fell in the storming of the enemy's

defences, and was left on the battle-field. Lieutenant Greble, the only

other officer killed, was shot at his gun soon after. This fatal contest

inaugurated the "war of posts" which has since raged in Virginia.]

THE HORRORS OF SAN DOMINGO.

CHAPTER IV.

THE BUCCANEERS--FLIBUSTIERS--TORTUGA--SETTLEMENT OF THE WESTERN PART OF

SAN DOMINGO BY THE FRENCH.

Peaceable voyagers in the West Indies were much astonished at their

first sight of certain men, who might have been a new species of native,

generated with slight advances upon the old stock by the principle of

selection, or spontaneous growths of a soil well guanoed by ferocity.

They sported the scarlet suit of the Carib, but of a dye less innocent,

as if the fated islands imparted this color to the men who preyed upon

them. A cotton shirt hung on their shoulders, and a pair of cotton

drawers struggled vainly to cover their thighs: you had to look very

closely to pronounce upon the material, it was so stained with blood and

fat. Their bronzed faces and thick necks were hirsute, as if overgrown

with moss, tangled or crispy. Their feet were tied up in the raw hides

of hogs or beeves just slaughtered, from which they also frequently

extemporized drawers, cut while reeking, and left to stiffen to the

shape of the legs. A heavy-stocked musket, made at Dieppe or Nantes,

with a barrel four and a half feet long, and carrying sixteen balls to

the pound,[6] lay over the shoulder, a calabash full of powder, with a

wax stopper, was slung behind, and a belt of crocodile's skin, with four

knives and a bayonet, went round the waist. These individuals, if the

term is applicable to the phenomena in question, were Buccaneers.[7]

The name is derived from the arrangements which the Caribs made to cook

their prisoners of war. After being dismembered, their pieces were

placed upon wooden gridirons, which were called in Carib, _barbacoa_. It

will please our Southern brethren to recognize a congenial origin for

their favorite barbecue. The place where these grilling hurdles were set

up was called boucan, and the method of roasting and smoking,

_boucaner_. The Buccaneers were men of many nations, who hunted the wild

cattle, which had increased prodigiously from the original Spanish

stock; after taking off the hide, they served the flesh as the Caribs

served their captives. There appears to have been a division of

employment among them; for some hunted beeves merely for the hide, and

others hunted the wild hogs to salt and sell their flesh. But their

habits and appearance were the same. The beef-hunters had many dogs, of

the old mastiff-breed imported from Spain, to assist in running down

their game, with one or two hounds in each pack, who were taught to

announce and follow up a trail.

The origin of these men, called Buccaneers, can be traced to a few

Norman-French who were driven out of St. Christophe, in 1630, by the

Spaniards. This island was settled jointly, but by an accidental

coincidence, by French and English, in 1625. They lived tranquilly

together for five years: the hunting of Caribs, who disputed their title

to the soil, being a bond of union between them which was stronger than

national prejudice. But the Spanish power became jealous of this

encroachment among the islands, which it affected to own by virtue of

Papal dispensation. Though Spain did not care to occupy it, Cuba and the

Main being too engrossing, she determined that no other power should do

so. She therefore took advantage of disturbances which arose there, in

consequence, the French writers affirm, of the perfidious ambition of

Albion, and chased both parties out of the island. The French soon

recovered possession of it, which they solely held in future; but many

exiles never returned, preferring to woo Fortune in company with the

French and English adventurers who swarmed in those seas, having

withdrawn, for sufficient reasons, from civilized society before a

graceful retreat became impossible. This medley of people settled at

first upon the northern and western coasts of San Domingo,--the latter

being as yet unoccupied. A few settlements of Spaniards upon the

northern coast, which suffered from their national antipathies and had

endeavored to root them out, were quickly broken up by them. The Dutch,

of course, were friendly, and promised to supply them with necessaries

in payment for hides, lard, and meat, _boucané_.

Their favorite haunt was the little island Tortuga,[8] so named, some

say, from its resemblance to a turtle afloat, and others, from the

abundance of that "green and glutinous" delight of aldermen. It is only

two or three leagues distant from the northern coast of San Domingo, off

the mouth of Trois Rivières. Its northern side is inaccessible: a boat

cannot find a nook or cove into which it may slip for landing or

shelter. But there is one harbor upon the southern side, and the

Buccaneers took possession of this, and gradually fortified it to make a

place tenable against the anticipated assaults of the Spaniards. The

soil was thin, but it nourished great trees which seemed to grow from

the rocks; water was scarce; the hogs were numerous, smaller and more

delicate than those of San Domingo; the sugar-cane flourished; and

tobacco of superior quality could be raised. About five-and-twenty

Spaniards held the harbor when these adventurers approached to take

possession. There were, besides, a few other rovers like themselves,

whom the new community adopted. The Spaniards made no resistance, and

were suffered to retire.

There was cordial fellowship between the _Flibustiers_ and Buccaneers,

for they were all outlaws, without a country, with few national

predilections,--men who could not live at home except at the risk of

apprehension for vagrancy or crime,--men who ran away in search of

adventure when the public ear was ringing with the marvels and riches of

the Indies, and when a multitude of sins could be covered by judicious

preying. The Spaniards were the victims of this floating and roving St.

Giles of the seventeenth century. If England or France went to war with

Spain, these freebooters obtained commissions, and their pillaging grew

honorable; but it did not subside with the conclusion of a peace. They

followed their own policy of lust and avarice, over regions too far from

the main history of the times to be controlled.

The word _Flibustier_ is derived from the Dutch _Vlieboot_, fly-boat,

swift boat, a kind of small craft whose sailing qualities were superior

to those of the other vessels then in vogue. It is possible that the

English made freebooter[9] out of the French adaptation. The fly-boat

was originally only a long, light pinnace[10] or cutter with oars,

fitted also to carry sail; we often find the word used by the French

writers to designate vessels which brought important intelligence. They

were favorite craft with the _Flibustiers_, not from their swiftness

alone, but from their ease of management, and capacity to run up the

creeks and river-openings, and to lie concealed. From these they boarded

the larger vessels, to plunder or to use them for prolonged freebooting

expeditions. The _Flibustier_, then, was a sea-hunter or pirate, as the

Buccaneer was a land-hunter, but ready also for pillaging expeditions,

in which they coöperated. And their pursuits were interchangeable: the

Buccaneer sometimes went to sea, and the _Flibustier_, in times of

marine scarcity, would don the hog-skin breeches, and run down cows or

hunt fugitive negroes with packs of dogs. The Buccaneers, however,

slowly acquired a tendency to settle, while the _Flibustiers_ preferred

to keep the seas, till Europe began to look them up too sharply; so that

the former became, eventually, the agricultural nucleus of the western

part of San Domingo, when the supply of wild cattle began to fail. This

failure happened partly in consequence of their own extravagant

hunting-habits, and partly through the agency of the Spaniards of the

eastern colony, who thought that by slaughtering the cattle their French

neighbors would be driven, for lack of employment, from the soil.

The Buccaneers generally went to the chase in couples, attended by their

dogs and _Engagés_. These hired or _engaged_ men first appear in the

history of the island as valets of the Buccaneers. But, in their case,

misfortune rather than vice was the reason of their appearance in such

doubtful companionship. They were often sold for debt or inability to

pay a rent, as happened in Scotland even during the eighteenth century;

they were deluded to take ship by the flaming promises which the

captains of vessels issued in the ports of different countries, to

recruit their crews, or with the wickeder purpose of kidnapping simple

rustics and hangers-on of cities; they sometimes came to a vessel's side

in poverty, and sold their liberty for three years for the sake of a

passage to the fabled Ind; press-gangs sometimes stole and smuggled them

aboard of vessels just ready to sail; very young people were induced to

come aboard,--indeed, one or two cases happened in France, where a

schoolmaster and his flock, who were out for a walk, were cajoled by

these purveyors of avaricious navigators, and actually carried away from

the country. There was, besides, a regular method of supplying the

French colonies in the different islands with voluntary _engagés_, who

agreed to serve for three years at certain wages, with liberty and a

small allotment of land at the expiration of the time. These were called

"thirty-six months' men." Sometimes their regular indenture was

respected, and sometimes violently set aside to make the signers

virtually slaves. This was done occasionally by the French in imitation

of the English. A number of _engagés_ at St. Christophe, finding that

they were not set at liberty at the expiration of their three years, and

that their masters intended to hold them two years more, assembled

tumultuously, and threatened to attack the colony. This was in 1632.

Their masters were not in sufficient force to carry out their plan, and

the Governor was obliged to set at liberty all who had served their

time. In 1719, the French Council of State decreed, in consequence of

the scarcity of _engagés_, that all vagabonds and criminals sentenced to

the galleys should be transported for colonial service; and in order to

diminish the expense of shipping them, every vessel leaving France for

the Antilles was compelled to carry three _engagés_ free of expense.

The amount of misery created by these various methods of supplying the

islands with human labor cannot be computed. The victims were very

humble; the manner of their taking-off was rarely noticed; the spirit of

the age never stooped to consider these trifles of sorrow, nor to

protect by some legislation the unfortunates who suffered in remote

islands, whence their cries seldom reached the ears of authority. It

would have been surprising, if many of these _engagés_ had not assumed

the habits of their masters, and kept the wandering hordes by land and

sea recruited. Some of the most famous Buccaneers--for that name

popularly included also the _Flibustiers_--were originally thirty-six

months' men who had daring and conduct enough to make the best of their

enforced condition.

These _engagés_ were in all respects treated as slaves, especially when

bound to agricultural service. Their master left them to the mercies of

an overseer, who whistled them up at daybreak for wood-cutting or labor

in the tobacco-fields, and went about among them with a stout stick,

which he used freely to bring the lagging up to their work. Many

cruelties are related of these men, but they are of the ordinary kind to

be found in the annals of all slave-holding countries. The fact that the

_engagés_ were indentured only for three years made no difference with

men whose sole object was to use up every available resource in the

pursuit of wealth. Bad treatment, chagrin, and scurvy destroyed many of

them. The French writers accused the English of treating their _engagés_

worse than any other nation, as they retained them for seven years, at

the end of which time they gave them money enough to procure a

lengthened debauch, during which they generally signed away their

liberty for seven more years. Oexmelin says that Cromwell sold more than

ten thousand Scotch and Irish, destined for Barbadoes. A whole ship-load

of these escaped, but perished miserably of famine near Cape Tiburon, at

a place which was afterwards called _L'Anse aux Ibernois_.

The first _engagés_ were brought by the French from Dieppe: they signed

contracts before notaries previously to quitting the country. This class

of laborers was eagerly sought by all the colonists of the West Indies,

and a good many vessels of different nations were employed in the trade.

There was in Brazil a system of letting out land to be worked, called a

_labrados_,[11] because a manager held the land from a proprietor for a

certain share of the profits, and cultivated it by laborers procurable

in various ways. The name of Labrador is derived by some writers from

the stealing of natives upon our northern coast by the Portuguese, to be

enslaved. It is certain that they did this as early as 1501,[12] and

named the coast afterwards _Terra de Laborador_.

The Buccaneers, hunting in couples, called each other _matelot_, or

shipmate: the word expresses their amphibious capacity. When a bull was

run down by the dogs, the hunter, almost as fleet of foot as they, ran

in to hamstring him, if possible,--if not, to shoot him. A certain

mulatto became glorious in buccaneering annals for running down his

game: out of a hundred hides which he sent to France, ten only were

pierced with bullet-holes. When the animal was stripped of its skin, the

large bones were drawn from the flesh for the sake of the marrow, of

which the two _matelots_ made their stout repast. Portions of the flesh

were then _boucané_ by the followers, the rest was left to dogs and

birds, and the chase was pursued day by day till a sufficient number of

hides were collected. These were transported to the little coves and

landing places, where they were exchanged for powder and shot, spirits

and silver. Then a grand debauch at Tortuga followed, with the wildest

gratification of every passion. Comrades quarrelled and sought each

other's blood; their pleasure ran _amôk_ like a mad Malay. When wine was

all drunk and the money gamed away, another expedition, with fresh air

and beef-marrow, set these independent bankrupts again to rights.

The _Flibustiers_ had an inexpensive way of furnishing themselves with

vessels for prosecuting their piratical operations. A dozen of them in a

boat would hang about the mouth of a river, or in the vicinity of a

Spanish port, enduring the greatest privations with constancy, till they

saw a vessel which had good sailing qualities and a fair equipment. If

they could not surprise it, they would run down to board it regardless

of its fire, and swarm up the side and over the decks in a perfect fury,

which nothing could resist, driving the crew into the sea. These

expeditions were always prefaced by religious observances. On this point

they were very strict; even before each meal, the Catholics chanted the

Canticle of Zacharias, the Magnificat, and the Miserere, and the

Protestants of all nations read a chapter of the Bible and sang a psalm.

For many a Huguenot was in these seas, revenging upon mankind its

capability to perpetrate, in the name of religion, a St. Bartholomew's.

Captain Daniel was a _Flibustier_ with religious tendencies. Finding

himself out of poultry, as he lay between Les Saintes and Dominica,

(1701,) he approached the former island by night, landed and carried off

the _curé_ and some of the principal inhabitants. These were not the

fowls he wanted, but rather decoys to the fattest poultry-yards. The

account of his exquisite mingling of business and religion gives us a

glimpse into the interior of flibustierism. We translate from Father

Labat, who had the story from the astonished _curé_. They were very

polite to them, he says, "and while the people were bringing in the

provisions, they begged the _curé_ to say mass in their vessel, which he

did not care to refuse. They sent on shore for the proper accessories,

and set up a tent on the quarter-deck, furnished with an altar, to

celebrate the mass, which they chanted zealously with the inhabitants

who were on board. It was commenced by a discharge of musketry, and of

eight pieces of cannon with which their bark was armed. They made a

second discharge at the Sanctus, a third at the Elevation, and a fourth

at the Benediction, and, finally, a fifth after the Exaudiat and the

prayer for the King, which was followed by a ringing _Vive le Roi_. Only

one slight incident disturbed a little our devotions. One of the

_Flibustiers_, taking an indecent posture during the Elevation, was

reprimanded by Captain Daniel. Instead of correcting himself, he made

some impertinent answer, accompanied with an execrable oath, which was

paid on the spot by the Captain, who pistolled him in the head, swearing

before God that he would do the same to the first man who failed in

respect for the Holy Sacrifice. The _curé_ was a little flustered, as it

happened very close to him. But Daniel said to him, 'Don't be troubled,

father; 't was a rascal whom I had to punish to teach his duty': a very

efficacious way to prevent the recurrence of a similar fault. After

mass, they threw the body into the sea, and paid the holy father

handsomely for his trouble and his fright. They gave him some valuable

clothes, and as they knew that he was destitute of a negro, they made

him a present of one,"--"which," says Father Labat, "I received an order

to reclaim, the original owner having made a demand for him."

Such was Captain Daniel's rubricated copy of the Buccaneers' [Greek:

Leitourgia]. One may judge from this what the early condition of

religion must have been in the French colony of San Domingo, which

sprang from these pirates of the land and sea. And it seems that their

reverence for the observances diminished in an inverse proportion to

their perils. Father Labat said mass in the little town of Cap Français,

in 1701. The chapel was not much better than an _ajoupa_, that is, a

four-posted square with a sloping roof of leaves or light boards. The

aisle had half a foot of dust in the dry season, and the same depth of

mud during rain. "I asked the sacristan, who also filled the office of

chanter, if he should chant the Introit, or begin simply with the Kyrie

Eleïson; but he replied that it was not their custom to chant a great

deal, they were content with low mass, brief, and well hurried up, and

never chanted except at funerals. However, I did not omit to bless the

water and asperse the people; and as I thought that the solemnity of the

day demanded a little preaching, I preached, and gave notice that I

should say mass on the following day." This he did, but was infinitely

scandalized at the behavior of the people, comparing it with that of the

thorough-going Catholics of the other French islands. "They came into

the chapel as to an assembly, or to some profane spectacle; they talked,

laughed, and joked. The people in the gallery talked louder than I did,

and mingled the name of God in their discourse in an insufferable

manner. I mildly remonstrated with them three or four times; but seeing

that it had no effect, I spoke in a way that compelled some officers to

impose silence. A well-behaved person had the goodness to inform me,

after mass, that it was necessary to be rather more indulgent with the

_People of the Coast_, if one wanted to live with them." This was an old

euphemism for _Flibustiers_. The good father could expect nothing

better, especially as so many of his audience may have been Calvinists,

for the first habitant at Cap Français was of that sect. These men were

trying to become settled; and the alternative was between rapine with

religion and raising crops without it. The latter became the habitude of

the island; for the descendants of the Buccaneers could afford the

luxury of absolute sincerity, which even their hardy progenitors were

too weak to seize.

In the other Islands, however, the priest had the colonists well in

hand, as may be understood from the lofty language which he could assume

towards petty sacramental infractions. At St. Croix, for instance, three

light fellows made a mock of Sunday and the mass, saying, "We go

a-fishing," and tried to persuade some neighbors to accompany them.

"No; 't is Trinity Sunday, and we shall go to mass."

"And will the Trinity help you to your dinner? Come, mass will keep for

another time."

The decent neighbors refusing, these three unfortunate men departed, and

were permitted by an inscrutable Providence to catch a great number of

little fishes, which they shared with their conforming neighbors. All

ate of them, but with this difference, that the three anti-sabbatarians

fell sick, and died in twenty-four hours, while the others experienced

no injury. The effect of this gastric warning is somewhat weakened by

the incautious statement of the narrative, that a priest, who ran from

one dying man to another, became overheated, and contracted a fatal

illness.

The Catholic profession brought no immunity to the Spanish navigators.

Our _Flibustiers_, strengthened by religious exercises, and a pistol in

each hand, stormed upon the deck, as if they had fallen from the clouds.

"_Jesus, son demonios estos_": "They are demons, and not men." After

they had thus "cleared" their vessel, they entered into a contract,

called _chasse-partie_, the articles of which regulated their voyage and

the disposition of the booty. They were very minutely made out. Here are

some of the awards and reimbursements. The one who discovered a prize

earned one hundred crowns; the same amount, or a slave, recompensed for

the loss of an eye. Two eyes were rated at six hundred crowns, or six

slaves. For the loss of the right hand or arm two hundred crowns or two

slaves were paid, and for both six hundred crowns. When a _Flibustier_

had a wound which obliged him to carry surgical helps and substitutes,

they paid him two hundred crowns, or two slaves. If he had not entirely

lost a member, but was only deprived of its use, he was recompensed the

same as if the member had disappeared.

"They have also regard to qualities and places. Thus, the captain or

chief is allotted five or six portions to what the ordinary seamen have,

the master's mate only two, and other officers proportionable to their

employ, after which they draw equal parts from the highest to the lowest

mariner, the boys not being omitted, who draw half a share, because,

when they take a better vessel than their own, it is the boys' duty to

fire their former vessel and then retire to the prize."

Among the conventions of English pirates we find some additional

articles which show a national difference. Whoever shall steal from the

company, or game up to the value of a piece of eight, (piastre,

translated _écu_ by the French,--rated by the English of that day at not

quite five shillings sterling,--about a dollar,) shall be landed on a

desert place, with a bottle of water, gun, powder, and lead. Whoever

shall maltreat or assault another, while the articles subsist, shall

receive the Law of Moses: this was the infliction of forty consecutive

strokes upon the back, a whimsical memento of the dispensation in the

Wilderness. There were articles relative to the treatment and

disposition of women, which sometimes depended upon the tossing of a

coin,--_jeter à croix pile_,--but they need not be repeated: on this

point the French were worse than the English.

The English generally wound up their convention with the solemn

agreement that not a man should speak of separation till the gross

earnings amounted to one thousand pounds per head. Then the whole

company associated by couples, for mutual support in anticipation of

wounds and danger, and to devise to each other all their effects in case

of death. While at sea, or engaged in expeditions against the coasts of

Terra Firma, their friendship was of the most romantic kind, inspired by

a common feeling of outlawry, and colored by the risks of their

atrocious employment. They called themselves "Brothers of the Coast,"

and took a solemn oath not to secrete from each other any portion of the

common spoil, nor uncharitably to disregard each other's wants. Violence

and lust would have gone upon bootless ventures, if justice and

generosity had not been crimped to strengthen the crew.

These buccaneering conventions were gradually imposed upon all the

West-Indian neighborhood, by the title of uncompromising strength, and

became known as the "Usage of the Coast." When the Brothers met with any

remonstrance which referred the rights of navigators and settlers back

to the Common Law of Europe, they were accustomed to defend their Usage,

saying that their baptism had absolved them from all previous

obligations. This was an allusion to the marine ceremony called in later

times "Crossing the Line," and administered only upon that occasion; but

at first it was performed when vessels were passing the Raz de

Fonteneau, on their way to and from the Channel, and originated before

navigators crossed the Atlantic or passed the Tropic of Cancer. The Raz,

or Tide-Race, was a dangerous passage off the coast of Brittany; some

religious observance among the early sailors, dictated by anxiety,

appears to have degenerated into the Neptunian frolic, which included a

copious christening of salt water for the raw hands, and was kept up

long after men had ceased to fear the unknown regions of the ocean.

Perhaps an aspersion with holy-water was a part of the original rite, on

the ground that the mariner was passing into new countries, once thought

uninhabited, as into a strange new-world, to sanctify the hardiness and

propitiate the Ruler of Sea and Air. The Dutch, also, performed some

ceremony in passing the rocks, then called Barlingots, which lie off the

mouth of the Tagus. Gradually the usage went farther out to sea; and the

farther it went, of course, the more unrestrained it grew.

This was the baptism which regenerated Law for the Buccaneers. It also

absolved them from the use of their own names, which might, indeed, in

many cases have been but awkward conveniences; and they were not known

except by _sobriquets_. But when they became _habitans_ or settlers, and

took wives, their surnames appeared for the first time in the

marriage-contract; so that it was a proverb in the islands,--"You don't

know people till they marry."

The institution of marriage was not introduced among the Buccaneers for

many years after their settlement of the western coast. In the mean time

they selected women for extemporaneous partners, to whom they addressed

a few significant words before taking them home to their _ajoupas_, to

the effect that their antecedents were not worth minding, but _this_,

slightly tapping the musket, "which never deceived me, will avenge me,

if _you_ do."

These women, with the exception of one or two organized emigrations of

poor, but honest, girls, were the sweepings of the streets of Paris and

London. They were sometimes deported with as little ceremony as the

_engagés_, and sometimes collected by the Government, especially of

France, for the deliberate purpose of meeting the not over nice demands

of the adventurers; for it was the interest of France to pet Tortuga and

the western coast. All the French islands were stocked in the same

manner. Du Tertre devotes a page to the intrigues of a Mademoiselle de

la Fayolle, who appeared in St. Christophe with a strong force of these

unfortunate women, in 1643. They were collected from St. Joseph's

Hospital in Paris, to prevent the colonists from leaving the island in

search of wives. Mademoiselle came with letters from the Queen and other

ladies of quality, and quite dazzled M. Aubert, the Governor, who

proposed to his wife that she should be accommodated in the chateau. She

had a restless and managing temper, and her power lasted as long as her

merchandise.

In 1667 there was an auction-sale of fifty girls without character at

Tortuga. They went off so well that fifty more were soon supplied.

Schoelcher says that in the twelfth volume of the "Archives de la

Marine" there is a note of "one hundred nymphs for the Antilles and a

hundred more for San Domingo," under the date of 1685.

Here were new elements of civilization for the devoted island, whose

earliest colonists were pirates pacified by prostitutes. They were the

progenitors of families whom wealth and colonial luxury made famous; for

in such a climate a buccaneering nickname will soon flower into titles

which conceal the gnarled and ugly stock. Some of these French Dianas

led a healthy and hardy life with their husbands, followed them to the

chase, and emulated their exploits with the pistol and the knife. Some

blood was thus renewed while some grew more depraved, else the colony

would have rotted from the soil.

Nature struggles to keep all her streams fresh and clear. The children

of adventurers may inherit the vices of their parents; but Nature

silently puts her fragrant graft into the withering tree, and it learns

to bud with unexpected fruit. Inheritance is only one of Mother Nature's

emphatic protestations that her wayward children will be the death of

her; but she knows better than that, unfortunately for the respectable

vice and meanness which flourish in every land and seek to prolong their

line. California and Australia soon reach the average of New York and

London, and invite Nature to preserve through them, too, her world. She

drains and plants these unwholesome places; powerful men and lovely

women are the Mariposa cedars which attest her splendid tillage. But a

part of this Nature consists of conservative decency in men who belong

to law-abiding and Protestant races. For want of this, surgery and

cautery became Nature's expedients for Hayti, which was one of the worst

sinks on her great farm.

If a greater number of female emigrants had been like Mary Read, pirate

as she was, the story of Hayti would have been modified. She had the

character which Nature loves to civilize.