“—His daughter, and the heir of his kingdom,
—hath referred herself
Unto a poor but worthy gentleman:—”
Cymbeline.
When Alderman Van Beverout and Ludlow drew near to the Lust in Rust, it
was already dark. Night had overtaken them, at some distance from the
place of landing; and the mountain already threw its shadow across the
river, the narrow strip of land that separated it from the sea, and far
upon the ocean itself. Neither had an opportunity of making his
observations on the condition of things in and about the villa, until
they had ascended nearly to its level, and had even entered the narrow
but fragrant lawn in its front. Just before they arrived at the gate
which opened on the latter, the Alderman paused, and addressed his
companion, with more of the manner of their ancient confidence, than he
had manifested during the few preceding days of their intercourse.
“You must have observed, that the events of this little excursion on
the water, have been rather of a domestic than of a public character;”
he said. “Thy father was a very ancient and much-esteemed friend of
mine, and I am far from certain that there is not some affinity between
us, in the way of intermarriages. Thy worthy mother, who is a thrifty
woman, and a small talker, had some of the blood of my own stock. It
would grieve me to see the good understanding, which these
recollections have created, in any manner interrupted. I admit, sir,
that revenue is to the state what the soul is to the body—the moving
and governing principle; and that, as the last would be a tenantless
house without its inhabitants, so the first would be an exacting and
troublesome master without its proper products. But there is no need of
pushing a principle to extremities! If this brigantine be, as you
appear to suspect, and indeed as we have some reason from various
causes to infer, the vessel called the Water-Witch she might have been
a legal prize had she fallen into your power; but now that she has
escaped, I cannot say what may be your intentions; but were thy
excellent father, the worthy member of the King’s Council, living, so
discreet a man would think much before he opened his lips, to say more
than is discreet, on this or any other subject.”
“Whatever course I may believe my duty dictates, you may safely rely on
my discretion concerning the—the remarkable—the very decided step which
your niece has seen proper to take;” returned the young man, who did
not make this allusion to Alida without betraying, by the tremor of his
voice, how great was her influence still over him. “I see no necessity
of violating the domestic feelings to which you allude, by aiding to
feed the ears of the idly curious, with the narrative of her errors.”
Ludlow stopped suddenly, leaving the uncle to infer what he would wish
to add.
“This is generous, and manly, and like a loyal—lover, Captain Ludlow,”
returned the Alderman; “though it is not exactly what I intended to
suggest. We will not, however, multiply words in the night air—ha! when
the cat is asleep, the mice are seen to play! Those night-riding,
horse-racing blacks have taken possession of Alida’s pavilion; and we
may be thankful the poor girl’s rooms are not as large as Harlaem
Common, or we should hear the feet of some hard-driven beast galloping
about in them.”
The Alderman, in his turn, cut short his speech, and started as if one
of the spukes of the colony had suddenly presented itself to his eyes.
His language had drawn the look of his companion towards la Cour des
Fées; and Ludlow had, at the same moment as the uncle, caught an
unequivocal view of la belle Barbérie, as she moved before the open
window of her apartment. The latter was about to rush forward, but the
hand of Myndert arrested the impetuous movement.
“Here is more matter for our wits, than our legs;” observed the cool
and prudent burgher. “That was the form of my ward and niece, or the
daughter of old Etienne Barbérie has a double.—Francis! didst thou not
see the image of a woman at the window of the pavilion, or are we
deceived by our wishes? I have sometimes been deluded in an
unaccountable manner, Captain Ludlow, when my mind has been thoroughly
set on the bargain, in the quality of the goods; for the most liberal
of us all are subject to mental weakness of this nature, when hope is
alive!”
“Certainement, oui!” exclaimed the eager valet “Quel malheur to be
obligé to go on la mèr, when Mam’selle Alide nevair quit la maison!
J’étais sûr, que nous nous trompions, car jamais la famille de Barbérie
love to be marins!”
“Enough, good Francis; the family of Barbérie is as earthy as a fox. Go
and notify the idle rogues in my kitchen, that their master is at hand;
and remember, that there is no necessity for speaking of all the
wonders we have seen on the great deep. Captain Ludlow, we will now
join my dutiful niece, with as little fracas as possible.”
Ludlow eagerly accepted the invitation, and instantly followed the
dogmatical and seemingly unmoved Alderman towards the dwelling. As the
lawn was crossed, they involuntarily paused, a moment, to look in at
the open windows of the pavilion.
La belle Barbérie had ornamented la Cour des Fées, with a portion of
that national taste, which she inherited from her father. The heavy
magnificence that distinguished the reign of Louis XIV. had scarcely
descended to one of the middling rank of Monsieur de Barbérie, who had
consequently brought with him to the place of his exile, merely those
tasteful usages which appear almost exclusively the property of the
people from whom he had sprung, without the encumbrance and cost of the
more pretending fashions of the period. These usages had become blended
with the more domestic and comfortable habits of English, or what is
nearly the same thing, of American life—an union which, when it is
found, perhaps produces the most just and happy medium of the useful
and the agreeable. Alida was seated by a small table of mahogany,
deeply absorbed in the contents of a little volume that lay before her.
By her side stood a tea-service, the cups and the vessels of which were
of the diminutive size then used, though exquisitely wrought, and of
the most beautiful material. Her dress was a negligée suited to her
years; and her whole figure breathed that air of comfort, mingled with
grace, which seems to be the proper quality of the sex, and which
renders the privacy of an elegant woman so attractive and peculiar. Her
mind was intent on the book, and the little silver urn hissed at her
elbow, apparently unheeded.
“This is the picture I have loved to draw,” half-whispered Ludlow,
“when gales and storms have kept me on the deck, throughout many a
dreary and tempestuous night! When body and mind have been impatient of
fatigue, this is the repose I have most coveted, and for which I have
even dared to hope!”
“The China trade will come to something, in time and you are an
excellent judge of comfort, Master Ludlow;” returned the Alderman.
“That girl now has a warm glow on her cheek, which would seem to swear
she never faced a breeze in her life; and it is not easy to fancy, that
one who looks so comfortable has lately been frolicking among the
dolphins.—Let us enter.”
Alderman Van Beverout was not accustomed to use much ceremony in his
visits to his niece. Without appearing to think any announcement
necessary, therefore, the dogmatical burgher coolly opened a door, and
ushered his companion into the pavilion.
If the meeting between la belle Alida and her guests was distinguished
by the affected indifference of the latter, their seeming ease was
quite equalled by that of the lady. She laid aside her book, with a
calmness that might have been expected had they parted but an hour
before, and which sufficiently assured both Ludlow and her uncle that
their return was known and their presence expected. She simply arose at
their entrance, and with a smile that betokened breeding, rather than
feeling, she requested them to be seated. The composure of his niece
had the effect to throw the Alderman into a brown study, while the
young sailor scarcely knew which to admire the most, the exceeding
loveliness of a woman who was always so beautiful, or her admirable
self-possession in a scene that most others would have found
sufficiently embarrassing. Alida, herself, appeared to feel no
necessity for any explanation; for, when her guests were seated, she
took occasion to say, while busied in pouring out the tea—
“You find me prepared to offer the refreshment of a cup of delicious
bohea. I think, my uncle calls it the tea of the Caernarvon Castle.”
“A lucky ship, both in her passages and her wares! Yes, it is the
article you name; and I can recommend it to all who wish to purchase.
But niece of mine, will you condescend to acquaint this commander in
Her Majesty’s service, and a poor Alderman of her good city of
New-York, how long you may have been expecting our company?”
Alida felt at her girdle, and, drawing out a small and
richly-ornamented watch, she coolly examined its hands, as if to learn
the hour.
“We are nine. I think it was past the turn of the day, when Dinah first
mentioned that this pleasure might be expected. But, I should also tell
you, that packages which seem to contain letters have arrived from
town.”
This was giving a new and sudden direction to the thoughts of the
Alderman. He had refrained from entering on those explanations which
the circumstances seemed to require, because he well knew that he stood
on dangerous ground, and that more might be said than he wished his
companion to hear, no less than from amazement at the composure of his
ward. He was not sorry, therefore, to have an excuse to delay his
inquiries, that appeared so much in character as that of reading the
communications of his business correspondents. Swallowing the contents
of the tiny cup he held, at a gulp, the eager merchant seized the
packet that Alida now offered; and, muttering a few words of apology to
Ludlow, he left the pavilion.
Until now, the commander of the Coquette had not spoken. Wonder,
mingled with indignation, sealed his mouth, though he had endeavored to
penetrate the veil which Alida had drawn around her conduct and
motives, by a diligent use of his eyes. During the first few moments of
the interview, he thought that he could detect, in the midst of her
studied calmness, a melancholy smile struggling around her beautiful
mouth; but only once had their looks met, as she turned her full, rich,
and dark eyes furtively on his face, as if she were curious to know the
effect produced by her manner on the mind of the young sailor.
“Have the enemies of the Queen reason to regret the cruise of the
Coquette?” said la Belle, hurriedly, when she found her glance
detected; “or have they dreaded to encounter a prowess that has already
proved their inferiority?”
“Fear, or prudence, or perhaps I might say conscience, has made them
wary;” returned Ludlow, pointedly emphasizing the latter word. “We have
run from the Hook to the edge of the Grand Bank, and returned without
success.”
“’Tis unlucky. But, though the French escaped, have none of the lawless
met with punishment? There is a rumor among the slaves, that the
brigantine which visited us is an object of suspicion to the
Government?”
“Suspicion!—But I may apply to la belle Barbérie, to know whether the
character her commander has obtained be merited?”
Alida smiled, and, her admirer thought, sweetly as ever.
“It would be a sign of extraordinary complaisance, were Captain Ludlow
to apply to the girls of the colony for instruction in his duty! We may
be secret encouragers of the contraband, but surely we are not to be
suspected of any greater familiarity with their movements. These hints
may compel me to abandon the pleasures of the Lust in Rust, and to seek
air and health in some less exposed situation. Happily the banks of the
Hudson offer many, that one need be fastidious indeed to reject.”
“Among which you count the Manor House of Kinderhook?”
Again Alida smiled, and Ludlow thought it was triumphantly.
“The dwelling of Oloff Van Staats is said to be commodious, and not
badly placed. I have seen it,———”
“In your images of the future?” said the young man, observing she
hesitated.
Alida laughed downright. But, immediately recovering her self-command,
she replied—
“Not so fancifully. My knowledge of the beauties of the house of Mr.
Van Staats, is confined to very unpoetical glimpses from the river, in
passing and repassing. The chimneys are twisted in the most approved
style of the Dutch Brabant, and, although wanting the stork’s nests on
their summits, it seems as if there might be that woman’s tempter,
comfort, around the hearths beneath. The offices, too, have an enticing
air, for a thrifty housewife!”
“Which office, in compliment to the worthy Patroon, you intend shall
not long be vacant?”
Alida was playing with a spoon, curiously wrought to represent the stem
and leaves of a tea-plant. She started, dropped the implement, and
raised her eyes to the face of her companion. The look was steady, and
not without an interest in the evident concern betrayed by the young
man.
“It will never be filled by me, Ludlow;” was the answer, uttered
solemnly, and with a decision that denoted a resolution fixed.
“That declaration removes a mountain!—Oh! Alida, if you could as
easily———”
“Hush!” whispered the other, rising and standing for a moment in an
attitude of intense expectation. Her eye became brighter, and the bloom
on her cheek even deeper than before, while pleasure and hope were both
strongly depicted on her beautiful face—“Hush!” she continued,
motioning to Ludlow to repress his feelings. “Did you hear nothing?”
The disappointed and yet admiring young man was silent, though he
watched her singularly interesting air, and lovely features, with all
the intenseness that seemed to characterize her own deportment. As no
sound followed that which Alida had heard or fancied she had heard, she
resumed her seat, and appeared to lend her attention once more to her
companion.
“You were speaking of mountains?” she said, scarce knowing what she
uttered. “The passage between the bays of Newburgh and Tappan, has
scarce a rival, as I have heard from travelled men.”
“I was indeed speaking of a mountain, but it was of one that weighs me
to the earth. Your inexplicable conduct and cruel indifference have
heaped it on my feelings, Alida. You have said that there is no hope
for Oloff Van Staats; and one syllable, spoken with your native
ingenuousness and sincerity, has had the effect to blow all my
apprehensions from that quarter to the winds. There remains only to
account for your absence, to resume the whole of your power over one
who is but too readily disposed to confide in all you say or do.”
La belle Barbérie seemed touched. Her glance at the young sailor was
kinder, and her voice wanted some of its ordinary steadiness, in the
reply.
“That power has then been weakened?”
“You will despise me, if I say no;—you will distrust me, if I say yes.”
“Then silence seems the course best adapted to maintain our present
amity.—Surely I heard a blow struck, lightly, on the shutter of that
window?”
“Hope sometimes deceives us. This repeated belief would seem to say
that you expect a visitor?”
A distinct tap on the shutter confirmed the impression of the mistress
of the pavilion. Alida looked at her companion, and appeared
embarrassed. Her color varied, and she seemed anxious to utter
something that either her feelings or her prudence suppressed.
“Captain Ludlow, you have once before been an unexpected witness of an
interview in la Cour des Fées, that has, I fear, subjected me to
unfavorable surmises. But one manly and generous as yourself can have
indulgence for the little vanities of woman. I expect a visit, that
perhaps a Queen’s officer should not countenance.”
“I am no exciseman, to pry into wardrobes and secret repositories, but
one whose duty it is to act only on the high seas, and against the more
open violators of the law. If you have any without, whose presence you
desire, let them enter without dread of my office. When we meet in a
more suitable place, I shall know how to take my revenge.”
His companion looked grateful, and bowed her acknowledgments. She then
made a ringing sound, by using a spoon on the interior of one of the
vessels of the tea equipage. The shrubbery, which shaded a window,
stirred; and presently, the young stranger, already so well known in
the former pages of this work, and in the scenes of the brigantine,
appeared in the low balcony. His person was scarcely seen, before a
light bale of goods was tossed past him, into the centre of the room.
“I send my certificate of character as an avant-courier;” said the gay
dealer in contraband, or Master Seadrift, as he was called by the
Alderman, touching his cap, gallantly, to the mistress of la Cour des
Fées, and then, somewhat more ceremoniously to her companion; after
which he returned the goldbound covering to its seat, on a bed of rich
and glossy curls, and sought his package. Here is one more customer
than I bargained for, and I look to more than common gain! We have met
before, Captain Ludlow.”
“We have, sir Skimmer of the Seas, and we shall meet again. Winds may
change, and fortune yet favor the right!”
“We trust to the sea-green lady’s care;” returned the extraordinary
smuggler, pointing, with a species of reverence, real or affected, to
the image that was beautifully worked, in rich colors, on the velvet of
his cap. What has been will be, and the past gives a hope for the
future. We meet, here, on neutral ground, I trust.”
“I am the commander of a royal cruiser, sir:” haughtily returned the
other.
“Queen Anne may be proud of her servant!—but we neglect our affairs. A
thousand pardons, lovely mistress of la Cour des Fées. This meeting of
two rude mariners does a slight to your beauty, and little credit to
the fealty due the sex. Having done with all compliments, I have to
offer certain articles that never failed to cause the brightest eyes to
grow more brilliant, and at which duchesses have gazed with many
longings.”
“You speak with confidence of your associations, Master Seadrift, and
rate noble personages among your customers, as familiarly as if you
dealt in offices of state.”
“This skilful servitor of the Queen will tell you, lady, that the wind
which is a gale on the Atlantic, may scarce cool the burning cheek of a
girl on the land, and that the links in life are as curiously
interlocked as the ropes of a ship. The Ephesian temple, and the Indian
wigwam, rested on the same earth.”
“From which you infer that rank does not alter nature. We must admit,
Captain Ludlow, that Master Seadrift understands a woman’s heart, when
he tempts her with stores of tissues gay as these!”
Ludlow had watched the speakers in silence. The manner of Alida was far
less embarrassed, than when he had before seen her in the smuggler’s
company; and his blood fired, when he saw that their eyes met with a
secret and friendly intelligence. He had remained, however, with a
resolution to be calm, and to know the worst. Conquering the expression
of his feelings by a great effort, he answered with an exterior of
composure, though not without some of that bitterness in his emphasis,
which he felt at his heart.
“If Master Seadrift has this knowledge, he may value himself on his
good fortune;” was the reply.
“Much intercourse with the sex, who are my best customers, has
something helped me;” returned the cavalier dealer in contraband. “Here
is a brocade, whose fellow is worn openly in the presence of our royal
mistress, though it came from the forbidden looms of Italy; and the
ladies of the court return from patriotically dancing, in the fabrics
of home, to please the public eye, once in the year, to wear these more
agreeable inventions, all the rest of it, to please themselves. Tell
me, why does the Englishman, with his pale sun, spend thousands to
force a sickly imitation of the gifts of the tropics, but because he
pines for forbidden fruit? or why does your Paris gourmand roll a fig
on his tongue, that a Lazzarone of Naples would cast into his bay, but
because he wishes to enjoy the bounties of a low latitude, under a
watery sky? I have seen an individual feast on the eau sucre of an
European pine, that cost a guinea, while his palate would have refused
the same fruit, with its delicious compound of acid and sweet, mellowed
to ripeness under a burning sun, merely because he could have it for
nothing. This is the secret of our patronage; and as the sex are most
liable to its influence, we owe them most gratitude.”
“You have travelled, Master Seadrift,” returned la Belle smiling, while
she tossed the rich contents of the bale on the carpet, “and treat of
usages as familiarly as you speak of dignities.”
“The lady of the sea-green mantle does not permit an idle servant. We
follow the direction of her guiding hand; sometimes it points our
course among the isles of the Adriatic, and at others on your stormy
American coasts. There is little of Europe between Gibraltar and the
Cattegat, that I have not visited.”
“But Italy has been the favorite, if one may judge by the number of her
fabrics that you produce.”
“Italy, France, and Flanders, divide my custom; though you are right,
in believing the former most in favor. Many years of early life did I
pass on the noble coasts of that romantic region. One who protected and
guided my infancy and youth, even left me for a time, under
instruction, on the little plain of Sorrento.”
“And where can this plain be found?—for the residence of so famous a
rover may, one day, become the theme of song, and is likely to occupy
the leisure of the curious.”
“The grace of the speaker may well excuse the irony! Sorrento is a
village on the southern shore of the renowned Naples bay. Fire has
wrought many changes in that soft but wild country, and if, as
religionists believe, the fountains of the great deep were ever broken
up, and the earth’s crust disturbed, to permit its secret springs to
issue on the surface, this may have been one of the spots chosen by him
whose touch leaves marks that are indelible, in which to show his
power. The bed of the earth, itself, in all that region, appears to
have been but the vomitings of volcanoes; and the Sorrentine passes his
peaceable life in the bed of an extinguished crater. ’Tis curious to
see in what manner the men of the middle ages have built their town, on
the margin of the sea, where the element has swallowed one half the
ragged basin, and how they have taken the yawning crevices of the tufo,
for ditches to protect their walls! I have visited many lands, and seen
nature in nearly every clime; but no spot has yet presented, in a
single view, so pleasant a combination of natural objects, mingled with
mighty recollections, as that lovely abode on the Sorrentine cliffs!”
“Recount me these pleasures, that in memory seem so agreeable, while I
examine further into the contents of the bale.”
The gay young free-trader paused, and seemed lost in images of the
past. Then, with a melancholy smile, he soon continued. “Though many
years are gone,” he said, “I can recall the beauties of that scene, as
vividly as if they still stood before the eye. Our abode was on the
verge of the cliffs. In front lay the deep-blue water, and on its
further shore was a line of objects such as accident or design rarely
assembles in one view. Fancy thyself, lady, at my side, and follow the
curvature of the northern shore, as I trace the outline of that
glorious scene! That high, mountainous, and ragged island, on the
extreme left, is modern Ischia. Its origin is unknown, though piles of
lava lie along its coast, which seems fresh as that thrown from the
mountain yesterday. The long, low bit of land, insulated like its
neighbor, is called Procida, a scion of ancient Greece. Its people
still preserve, in dress and speech, marks of their origin. The narrow
strait conducts you to a high and naked bluff! That is the Misenum, of
old. Here Eneas came to land, and Rome held her fleets, and thence
Pliny took the water, to get a nearer view of the labors of the
volcano, after its awakening from centuries of sleep. In the hollow of
the ridge, between that naked bluff and the next swell of the mountain,
lie the fabulous Styx, the Elysian fields, and the place of the dead,
as fixed by the Mantuan. More on the height and nearer to the sea, lie,
buried in the earth, the vast vaults of the Piscina Mirabilis—and the
gloomy caverns of the Hundred Chambers; places that equally denote the
luxury and the despotism of Rome. Nearer to the vast pile of castle,
that is visible so many leagues, is the graceful and winding Baiæan
harbor; and against the side of its sheltering hills, once lay the city
of villas. To that sheltered hill, emperors, consuls, poets, and
warriors, crowded from the capital, in quest of repose, and to breathe
the pure air of a spot in which pestilence has since made its abode.
The earth is still covered with the remains of their magnificence, and
ruins of temples and baths are scattered freely among the olives and
fig-trees of the peasant. A fainter bluff limits the north-eastern
boundary of the little bay. On it, once, stood the dwellings of
emperors. There Cæsar sought retirement, and the warm springs on its
side are yet called the baths of the bloody Nero. That small conical
hill, which, as you see, possesses a greener and fresher look than the
adjoining land, is a cone ejected by the caldron beneath, but two brief
centuries since. It occupies, in part, the site of the ancient Lucrine
lake. All that remains of that famous receptacle of the epicure, is the
small and shallow sheet at its base, which is separated from the sea by
a mere thread of sand. More in the rear, and surrounded by dreary
hills, lie the waters of Avernus. On their banks still stand the ruins
of a temple, in which rites were celebrated to the infernal deities.
The grotto of the Sybil pierces that ridge on the left, and the Cumæan
passage is nearly in its rear. The town, which is seen a mile to the
right, is Pozzuoli—a port of the ancients, and a spot now visited for
its temples of Jupiter and Neptune, its mouldering amphitheatre, and
its half-buried tombs. Here Caligula attempted his ambitious bridge;
and while crossing thence to Baiæ, the vile Nero had the life of his
own mother assailed. It was there, too, that holy Paul came to land,
when journeying a prisoner to Rome. The small but high island, nearly
in its front, is Nisida, the place to which Marcus Brutus retired after
the deed at the foot of Pompey’s statue, where he possessed a villa,
and whence he and Cassius sailed to meet the shade and the vengeance of
the murdered Cæsar, at Philippi. Then comes a crowd of sites more known
in the middle ages; though just below that mountain, in the background,
is the famous subterranean road of which Strabo and Seneca are said to
speak, and through which the peasant still daily drives his ass to the
markets of the modern city. At its entrance is the reputed tomb of
Virgil, and then commences an amphitheatre of white and terraced
dwellings. This is noisy Napoli itself, crowned with its rocky castle
of St. Elmo! The vast plain, to the right, is that which held the
enervating Capua and so many other cities on its bosom. To this
succeeds the insulated mountain of the volcano, with its summit torn in
triple tops. ’Tis said that villas and villages, towns and cities, lie
buried beneath the vineyards and palaces which crowd its base. The
ancient and unhappy city of Pompeii stood on that luckless plain,
which, following the shores of the bay, comes next; and then we take up
the line of the mountain promontory, which forms the Sorrentine side of
the water!”
“One who has had such schooling, should know better how to turn it to a
good account;” said Ludlow, sternly, when the excited smuggler ceased
to speak.
“In other lands, men derive their learning from books; in Italy,
children acquire knowledge by the study of visible things:” was the
undisturbed answer.
“Some from this country are fond of believing that our own bay, these
summer skies, and the climate in general, should have a strict
resemblance to those of a region which lies precisely in our own
latitude;” observed Alida, so hastily, as to betray a desire to
preserve the peace between her guests.
“That your Manhattan and Raritan waters are broad and pleasant, none
can deny, and that lovely beings dwell on their banks, lady,” returned
Seadrift, gallantly lifting his cap, “my own senses have witnessed. But
’twere wiser to select some other point of your excellence, for
comparison, than a competition with the glorious waters, the fantastic
and mountain isles, and the sunny hill-sides of modern Napoli! ’Tis
certain the latitude is even in your favor, and that a beneficent sun
does not fail of its office in one region more than in the other. But
the forests of America are still too pregnant of vapors and
exhalations, not to impair the purity of the native air. If I have seen
much of the Mediterranean, neither am I a stranger to these coasts.
While there are so many points of resemblance in their climates, there
are also many and marked causes of difference.”
“Teach us, then, what forms these distinctions, that, in speaking of
our bay and skies, we may not be led into error.”
“You do me honor, lady; I am of no great schooling, and of humble
powers of speech. Still, the little that observation may have taught
me, shall not be churlishly withheld. Your Italian atmosphere, taking
the humidity of the seas, is sometimes hazy. Still water in large
bodies, other than in the two seas, is little known in those distant
countries. Few objects in nature are drier than an Italian river,
during those months when the sun has most influence. The effect is
visible in the air, which is in general elastic, dry, and obedient to
the general laws of the climate. There floats less exhalation, in the
form of fine and nearly invisible vapor, than in these wooded regions.
At least, so he of whom I spoke, as one who guided my youth, was wont
to say.”
“You hesitate to tell us of our skies, our evening light, and of our
bay?”
“It shall be said, and said sincerely—Of the bays, each seems to have
been appropriated to that for which nature most intended it.—The one is
poetic, indolent, and full of graceful but glorious beauty; more
pregnant of enjoyment than of usefulness. The other will, one day, be
the mart of the world!”
“You still shrink from pronouncing on their beauty;” said Alida,
disappointed, in spite of an affected indifference to the subject.
“It is ever the common fault of old communities to overvalue
themselves, and to undervalue new actors in the great drama of nations,
as men long successful disregard the efforts of new aspirants for
favor;” said Seadrift, while he looked with amazement at the pettish
eye of the frowning beauty. “In this instance, however, Europe has not
so greatly erred. They who see much resemblance between the bay of
Naples and this of Manhattan, have fertile brains; since it rests
altogether on the circumstance that there is much water in both, and a
passage between an island and the main-land, in one, to resemble a
passage between two islands in the other. This is an estuary, that a
gulf; and while the former has the green and turbid water of a shelving
shore and of tributary rivers, the latter has the blue and limpid
element of a deep sea. In these distinctions, I take no account of
ragged and rocky mountains, with the indescribable play of golden and
rosy light upon their broken surfaces, nor of a coast that teems with
the recollections of three thousand years!”
“I fear to question more. But surely our skies may be mentioned, even
by the side of those you vaunt?”
“Of the skies, truly, you have more reason to be confident. I remember
that standing on the Capo di Monte, which overlooks the little,
picturesque, and crowded beach of the Marina Grande, and Sorrento, a
spot that teems with all that is poetic in the fisherman’s life, he of
whom I have spoken, once pointed to the transparent vault above, and
said, ‘There is the moon of America!’ The colors of the rocket were not
more vivid than the stars that night, for a Tramontana had swept every
impurity from the air, far upon the neighboring sea. But nights like
that are rare, indeed, in any clime! The inhabitants of low latitudes
enjoy them occasionally; those of higher never.”
“And then our flattering belief, that these western sunsets rival those
of Italy, is delusion?”
“Not so, lady. They rival, without resembling. The color of the étui,
on which so fair a hand is resting, is not softer than the hues one
sees in the heavens of Italy. But if your evening sky wants the pearly
light, the rosy clouds, and the soft tints which, at that hour, melt
into each other, across the entire vault of Napoli, it far excels in
the vividness of the glow, in the depth of the transitions, and in the
richness of colors. Those are only more delicate, while these are more
gorgeous! When there shall be less exhalation from your forests, the
same causes may produce the same effects. Until then, America must be
content to pride herself on an exhibition of nature’s beauty, in a new,
though scarcely in a less pleasing, form.”
“Then they who come among us from Europe, are but half right, when they
deride the pretensions of our bay and heavens?”
“Which is much nearer the truth than they are wont to be, on the
subject of this continent. Speak of the many rivers, the double outlet,
the numberless basins, and the unequalled facilities of your Manhattan
harbor; for in time, they will come to render all the beauties of the
unrivalled bay of Naples vain: but tempt not the stranger to push the
comparison beyond. Be grateful for your skies, lady, for few live under
fairer or more beneficent—But I tire you with these opinions, when here
are colors that have more charms for a young and lively imagination,
than even the tints of nature!”
La belle Barbérie smiled on the dealer in contraband, with an interest
that sickened Ludlow; and she was about to reply, in better humor, when
the voice of her uncle announced his near approach.