-
-
Notifications
You must be signed in to change notification settings - Fork 1
/
47852-0.txt
11068 lines (9565 loc) · 624 KB
/
47852-0.txt
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499
500
501
502
503
504
505
506
507
508
509
510
511
512
513
514
515
516
517
518
519
520
521
522
523
524
525
526
527
528
529
530
531
532
533
534
535
536
537
538
539
540
541
542
543
544
545
546
547
548
549
550
551
552
553
554
555
556
557
558
559
560
561
562
563
564
565
566
567
568
569
570
571
572
573
574
575
576
577
578
579
580
581
582
583
584
585
586
587
588
589
590
591
592
593
594
595
596
597
598
599
600
601
602
603
604
605
606
607
608
609
610
611
612
613
614
615
616
617
618
619
620
621
622
623
624
625
626
627
628
629
630
631
632
633
634
635
636
637
638
639
640
641
642
643
644
645
646
647
648
649
650
651
652
653
654
655
656
657
658
659
660
661
662
663
664
665
666
667
668
669
670
671
672
673
674
675
676
677
678
679
680
681
682
683
684
685
686
687
688
689
690
691
692
693
694
695
696
697
698
699
700
701
702
703
704
705
706
707
708
709
710
711
712
713
714
715
716
717
718
719
720
721
722
723
724
725
726
727
728
729
730
731
732
733
734
735
736
737
738
739
740
741
742
743
744
745
746
747
748
749
750
751
752
753
754
755
756
757
758
759
760
761
762
763
764
765
766
767
768
769
770
771
772
773
774
775
776
777
778
779
780
781
782
783
784
785
786
787
788
789
790
791
792
793
794
795
796
797
798
799
800
801
802
803
804
805
806
807
808
809
810
811
812
813
814
815
816
817
818
819
820
821
822
823
824
825
826
827
828
829
830
831
832
833
834
835
836
837
838
839
840
841
842
843
844
845
846
847
848
849
850
851
852
853
854
855
856
857
858
859
860
861
862
863
864
865
866
867
868
869
870
871
872
873
874
875
876
877
878
879
880
881
882
883
884
885
886
887
888
889
890
891
892
893
894
895
896
897
898
899
900
901
902
903
904
905
906
907
908
909
910
911
912
913
914
915
916
917
918
919
920
921
922
923
924
925
926
927
928
929
930
931
932
933
934
935
936
937
938
939
940
941
942
943
944
945
946
947
948
949
950
951
952
953
954
955
956
957
958
959
960
961
962
963
964
965
966
967
968
969
970
971
972
973
974
975
976
977
978
979
980
981
982
983
984
985
986
987
988
989
990
991
992
993
994
995
996
997
998
999
1000
The Project Gutenberg EBook of Graham's Magazine, Vol. XLI, No. 5,
November 1852, by Various
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
Title: Graham's Magazine, Vol. XLI, No. 5, November 1852
Author: Various
Editor: George R. Graham
Release Date: January 2, 2015 [EBook #47852]
Language: English
Character set encoding: UTF-8
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GRAHAM'S MAGAZINE, NOVEMBER 1852 ***
Produced by David T. Jones, Ross Cooling, Mardi Desjardins
& the Online Distributed Proofreading Canada Team at
http://www.pgdpcanada.net (This file was produced from
images generously made available by The Internet
Archive/American Libraries and Google Books.)
GRAHAM’S MAGAZINE.
Vol. XLI. November, 1852. No. 5.
Table of Contents
The Dreams of Youth
The Cottage Door
Rivers
Remembered Ones
The Game of the Month
Wild Roses by the River Grow
The Song-Stream
Machinery, for Machine Making
Forgotten
Clara Gregory: or The Step-Mother
Shawls
Among the Moors
London Coffee-Houses
James Logan of Pennsylvania
Useful Arts of the Greeks and Romans
Sonnets
The Loves of an Apothecary
To My Cigar
The Trial by Battle
The Lucky Penny
A Day with a Lion
Nelly Nowlan’s Experience
November
Sonnet.--Mutability.
Ambition’s Burial-Ground
Review of New Books
Graham’s Small-Talk
Sips of Punch
Fashion Plate
Transcriber’s Notes can be found at the end of this eBook.
[Illustration: =AGATHA.=]
* * * * *
[Illustration: =THE CASTLE OF INDOLENCE.=]
* * * * *
[Illustration: =The Dreams of Youth.=]
=THE DREAMS OF YOUTH.=
=POETRY BY CHARLES MACKAY.=
=ACCOMPANIMENTS BY SIR H. R. BISHOP.=
Air “Pray, Goody, PLEASE TO MODERATE.”
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
Oh! youth’s fond dreams, like eve ’ning skies,
Are tinged with colours bright,
Their cloud-built halls and turrets rise
In lines of ling’ ring light;
Airy, fairy,
In the beam they glow,
As if they’d last
Thro’ ev’ry blast
That angry fate might blow;
But Time wears on with stealthy pace
And robes of solemn grey.
And in the shadow of her face
The glories fade away.
But not in vain the splendours die,
For worlds before unseen
Rise on the forehead of the sky
Unchanging and serene.
Gleaming,--streaming,
Thro’ the dark they shew
Their lustrous forms
Above the storms
That rend our earth below.
So pass the visions of our youth
In Time’s advancing shade;
Yet ever more the stars of Truth
Shine brighter when they fade.
GRAHAM’S MAGAZINE.
* * * * *
Vol. XLI. PHILADELPHIA, November, 1852. No. 5.
* * * * *
[Illustration]
The Cottage Door
Those little curly-pated elves,
Blest in each other and themselves,
Right pleasant ’tis to see
Glancing like sunbeams in and out
The lowly porch, and round about
The ancient household tree.
And pleasant ’tis to greet the smile
Of her who rules this domicile
With firm but gentle sway;
To hear her busy step and tone,
Which tell of household cares begun
That end but with the day.
’Tis pleasant, too, to stroll around
The tiny plot of garden ground,
Where all in gleaming row
Sweet primroses, the spring’s delight,
And double daisies, red and white,
And yellow wall-flowers grow.
What if such homely view as this
Awaken not the high-wrought bliss
Which loftier scenes impart?
To better feelings sure it leads,
If but to kindly thoughts and deeds
It prompt the feeling heart.
* * * * *
=RIVERS.=
=BY THOMAS MILNER, M. A.=
[Illustration]
Rivers constitute an important part of the aqueous portion of the globe;
with the great lines of water, with streams and rivulets, they form a
numerous family, of which lakes, springs, or the meltings of ice and
snow, upon the summits of high mountain chains, are the parents. The
Shannon has its source in a lake; the Rhone in a glacier; and the
Abyssinian branch of the Nile in a confluence of fountains. The country
where some of the mightiest rivers of the globe have their rise has not
yet been sufficiently explored to render their true source
ascertainable. The origin of others is doubtful, owing to a number of
rills presenting equal claims to be considered as the river-head; but
many are clearly referable to a single spring, the current of which is
speedily swelled by tributary waters, ultimately flowing in broad and
deep channels to the sea. Inglis, who wandered on foot through many
lands, had a fancy, which he generally indulged, to visit the sources of
rivers, when the chances of his journey threw him in their vicinity.
Such a pilgrimage will often repay the traveler, by the scenes of
picturesque and secluded beauty into which it leads him; and even when
the primal fount is insignificant in itself, and the surrounding
landscape exhibits the tamest features, there is a reward in the
associations that are instantly wakened up--the thought of a humble and
modest commencement issuing in a long and victorious career--of the tiny
rill, proceeding, by gradual advances, to become an ample stream,
fertilizing by its exudations and rolling on to meet the tides of the
ocean, bearing the merchandise of cities upon its bosom. The Duddon, one
of the most picturesque of the English rivers, oozes up through a bed of
moss near the top of Wrynose Fell, a desolate solitude, yet remarkable
for its huge masses of protruding crag, and the varied and vivid colors
of the mosses watered by the stream. Petrarch’s letters and verses have
given celebrity to the source of the Sorques--the spring of Vaucleuse,
which bursts in an imposing manner out of a cavern, and forms at once a
copious torrent. The Scamandar is one of the most remarkable rivers for
the grandeur of its source--a yawning chasm in Mount Gargarus, shaded
with enormous plane-trees, and surrounded with high cliffs from which
the river impetuously dashes in all the greatness of the divine origin
assigned to it by ancient fable. To discover the source of the Nile, hid
from the knowledge of all antiquity, was the object of Bruce’s
adventurous journey; and we can readily enter into his emotions, as he
stood by the two fountains, after the toils and hazard he had braved.
“It is easier to guess,” he remarks, “than to describe the situation of
my mind at that moment--standing in that spot which had baffled the
genius, industry, and inquiry of both ancients and moderns, for the
course of three thousand years. Kings had attempted this discovery at
the head of armies; and each expedition was distinguished from the last,
only by the difference of the numbers which had perished, and agreed
alone in the disappointment which had uniformly, and without exception,
followed them all. Fame, riches and honor, had been held out for a
series of ages to every individual of those myriads these princes
commanded, without having produced one man capable of gratifying the
curiosity of his sovereign, or wiping off this stain upon the enterprise
and abilities of mankind, or adding this desideratum for the
encouragement of geography. Though a mere private Briton, I triumphed
here, in my own mind, over kings and their armies; and every comparison
was leading nearer and nearer to presumption, when the place itself
where I stood--the object of my vain-glory--suggested what depressed my
short-lived triumphs. I was but a few minutes arrived at the sources of
the Nile, through numberless dangers and sufferings, the least of which
would have overwhelmed me, but for the continual goodness and protection
of Providence: I was, however, but then half through my journey; and all
those dangers, which I had already passed, awaited me again on my
return. I found a despondency gaining ground fast upon me, and blasting
the crown of laurels I had too rashly woven for myself.” Bruce, however,
labored under an error, in supposing the stream he had followed to be
the main branch of the Nile. He had traced to its springs the smaller of
the two great rivers which contribute to form this celebrated stream.
The larger arm issues from a more remote part of Africa, and has not yet
been ascended to its source.
Upon examining the map of a country, we see many of its rivers traveling
in opposite directions, and emptying their waters into different seas,
although their sources frequently lie in the immediate neighborhood of
each other. The springs of the Missouri, which proceed south-east to the
Gulf of Mexico, and those of the Columbia, which flow north-west to the
Pacific Ocean, are only a mile apart, while those of some of the
tributaries of the Amazon, flowing north, and the La Plata, flowing
south, are closely contiguous. There is a part of Volhynia, of no
considerable extent, which sends off its waters, north and south, to the
Black and Baltic seas; while, from the field on which the battle of
Naseby was fought, the Avon, Trent, and Nen receive affluents, which
reach the ocean at opposite coasts of the island, through the Humber,
the Wash, and the Bristol Channel. The field in question is an elevated
piece of table-land in the centre of England. The district referred to,
where rivers proceeding to the Baltic and the Euxine take their rise, is
a plateau about a thousand feet above the level of the sea. The springs
of the Missouri and the Columbia are in the Rocky Mountains; and it is
generally the case, that those parts of a country from which large
rivers flow in contrary directions, are the most elevated sites in their
respective districts, consisting either of mountain-chains, plateaus, or
high table-lands. There is one remarkable exception to this in European
Russia, where the Volga rises in a plain only a few hundred feet above
the level of the sea, and no hills separate its waters from those which
run into the Baltic. The great majority of the first-class rivers
commence from chains of mountains, because springs are there most
abundant, perpetually fed by the melting of the snows and glaciers. They
have almost invariably an easterly direction, the westward-bound streams
being few in number, and of very subordinate rank. Of rivers flowing
east, we have grand examples in the St. Lawrence, Orinoco, Amazon,
Danube, Ganges, Amour, Yang-tse-Kiang, and Hoang Ho. The chief western
streams are the Columbia, Tagus, Garonne, Loire and Neva, which are of
far inferior rank to the former. The rivers running south, as the
Mississippi, La Plata, Rhone, Volga and Indus, are more important, as
well as those which proceed to the north, as the Rhine, Vistula, Nile,
Irtish, Lena and Yenisei. The easterly direction of the great rivers of
America is obviously due to the position of the Andes, which run north
and south, on the western side of the continent, while the chain of
mountains which traverses Europe and Asia, from west to east, cause the
great number of rivers which flow north and south. In our own island,
the chief course of the streams is to the east. This is the case with
the Tay, Forth, Tweed, Tyne, Humber and Thames, the Clyde and Severn
being the most remarkable exceptions to this direction. The whole extent
of country from which a river receives its supply of water, by brooks
and rivulets, is termed its basin, because a region generally bounded by
a rim of high lands, beyond which the waters are drained off into
another channel. The basin of a superior river includes those of all its
tributary streams. It is sometimes the case, however, that the basins of
rivers are not divided by any elevations, but pass into each other, a
connection subsisting between their waters. This is the case with the
hydro-graphical regions of the Amazon and Orinoco, the Cassiaquaire, a
branch of the latter, joining the Rio Negro, an affluent of the former.
The vague rumors that were at first afloat respecting this singular
circumstance, were treated by most geographers with discredit, till
Humboldt ascertained its reality, by proceeding from the Rio Negro to
the Orinoco, along the natural canal of the Cassiaquaire.
Rivers have a thousand points of similarity, and of discordance. Some
exhibit an unbroken sheet of water through their whole course, while
others are diversified by numerous islands. This peculiarly
characterizes the vast streams of the American continent, and
contributes greatly to their scenical effect, of which our illustration
gives us an example, selected from the beautiful Susquehanna, the
largest Atlantic river of the United States. The St. Lawrence, soon
after issuing from the Lake Ontario, presents the most remarkable
instance to be found of islands occurring in a river channel. It is here
called the Lake of the Thousand Islands. The vast number implied in this
name was considered a vague exaggeration, till the commissioners
employed in fixing the boundary with the United States actually counted
them, and found that they amounted to 1692. They are of every imaginable
size, shape, and appearance; some barely visible, others covering
fifteen acres; but in general their broken outline presents the most
picturesque combinations of wood and rock. The navigator in steering
through them sees an ever-changing scene, which reminds an elegant
writer of the Happy Islands in the Vision of Mirza. Sometimes he is
inclosed in a narrow channel; then he discovers before him twelve
openings, like so many noble rivers; and soon after a spacious lake
seems to surround him on every side. River-islands are due to original
surface inequalities, but many are formed by the arrest and gradual
accretion of the alluvial matter brought down by the waters.
[Illustration: =The Susquehanna.=]
There is great diversity in the length of rivers, the force of their
current, and the mass and complexion of their waters; but their peculiar
character is obviously dependent upon that of the country in which they
are situated. As it is the property of water to follow a descent, and
the greatest descent that occurs in its way, the course of a river
points out generally the direction in which the land declines, and the
degree of the declination determines in part the velocity of its
current, for the rapidity of the stream is influenced both by its volume
of water and the declivity of its channel. Hence one river often pours
its tide into another without causing any perceptible enlargement of its
bed, the additional waters being disposed of by the creation of a more
rapid current, for large masses of water travel with a swift and
powerful impetus over nearly a level surface, upon which smaller rivers
would have only a languid flow. In general, the fall of the great
streams is much less than what would be supposed from a glance at their
currents. The rapid Rhine has only a descent of four feet in a mile
between Shaffhausen and Strasburg, and of two feet between the latter
place and Schenckenschauts; and the mighty Amazon, whose collision with
the tide of the Atlantic is of the most tremendous description, falls
but four yards in the last 700 miles of its course, or one-fourth of an
inch in 1¼ mile. In one part of its channel the Seine descends one foot
in a mile; the Loire, between Pouilly and Briare, one foot in 7,500, and
between Briare and Orleans one foot in 13,596; the Ganges, only nine
inches; and, for 400 miles from its termination, the Paraguay has but a
descent of one thirty-third of an inch in the whole distance. The fall
of rivers is very unequally distributed; such, for instance, as the
difference of the Rhine below Cologne and above Strasburg. The greatest
fall is commonly experienced at their commencement, though there are
some striking exceptions to this. The whole descent of the Shannon, from
its source in Loch Allen to the sea, a distance of 234 miles, is 146
feet, which is seven inches and a fraction in a mile, but it falls 97
feet in a distance of 15 miles, between Killaloe and Limerick, and
occupies the remaining 219 miles in descending 49 feet. When water has
once received an impulse by following a descent, the simple pressure of
the particles upon each other is sufficient to keep it in motion long
after its bed has lost all inclination. The chief effect of the absence
of a declivity is a slower movement of the stream, and a more winding
course, owing to the aqueous particles being more susceptible of
divergence from their original direction by impediments in their path.
Hence the tortuous character of the water-courses, chiefly arising from
the streams meeting with levels after descending inclined planes, which
so slackens their speed that they are easily diverted from a
right-onward direction by natural obstacles, to which the force of their
current is inferior. The Mæander was famed in classical antiquity for
its mazy course, descending from the pastures of Phrygia, with many
involutions, into the vine-clad province of the Carians, which it
divided from Lydia near a plain properly called the Mæandrian, where the
bed was winding in a remarkable degree. From the name of this river we
have our word meandering, as applied to erratic streams.
[Illustration: =The Rhine at Oberweisel.=]
This circumstance increases prodigiously the extent of their channels,
and renders their navigation tedious, but the absence of that velocity
of the current which would make it difficult is a compensation, while a
larger portion of the earth enjoys the benefit of their waters. The
sources of the Mississippi are only 1250 miles from its mouth, following
a straight line, but 3200 miles, pursuing its real path; and the Forth
is actually three times the length of a straight line drawn from its
rise to its termination. The rivers which flow through flat alluvial
plains frequently exhibit great sinuosities, their waters returning
nearly to the same point after an extensive tour. The Moselle, after a
curved course of seventeen miles, returns to within a few hundred yards
of the same spot; and a steamer on the Mississippi, after a sail of
twenty-five or thirty miles, is brought round again, almost within hail
of the place where it was two or three hours before. In high floods, the
waters frequently force a passage through the isthmuses which are thus
formed, converting the peninsulas into islands, and forming a nearer
route for the navigator to pursue. By the “grand cut off” on the
Mississippi, vessels now pass from one point to another in half a mile,
in order to accomplish which they had formerly a distance of twenty
miles to traverse.
Rivers receive a peculiar impress from the geological character of the
districts through which they flow. Those of primary or transition
countries, where sudden declivities abound, are bold and rapid streams,
with steep and high banks, and usually pure waters, owing to the surface
not being readily abraded, generally emptying themselves by a single
mouth which is deep and unobstructed. The streams of secondary and
alluvial districts flow with slow but powerful current, between low and
gradually descending banks, which, being composed of soft rocks or
alluvial grounds, are easily worn away by the waters, and hence great
changes are effected in their channels, and a peculiar color is given to
their streams by the earthy particles with which they are charged. Many
rivers have their names from this last circumstance. The Rio Negro, or
Black River, which flows into the Amazon, is so called on account of the
dark color of its waters, which are of an amber hue wherever it is
shallow, and dark brown wherever the depth is great. The names of the
two great streams which unite to form the Nile, the Bahr-el-Abiad, or
White River, from the Mountains of the Moon, and the Bahr-el-Azrek, or
Blue River, from Abyssinia, refer to the color which they receive from
the quantity of earth with which they are impregnated. The united
rivers, for some distance after their junction, preserve their colors
distinct. This is the case likewise with the Rhine and the Moselle; the
St. Lawrence and the Ottawa. The Upper Mississippi is a transparent
stream, but assumes the color of the Missouri upon joining that river,
the mud of which is as copious as the water can hold in suspension, and
of a white soapy hue. The Ohio brings into it a flood of a greenish
color. The bright and dark red waters of the Arkansas and Red River
afterward diminish the whiteness derived from the Missouri, and the
volume of the Lower Mississippi bears along a tribute of vegetable soil,
collected from the most distant quarters, and of the most various
kind--the marl of the Rocky and the clay of the Black Mountains--the
earth of the Alleghanies--and the red-loam washed from the hills at the
sources of the Arkansas and the Red River. Mr. Lyell states that water
flowing at the rate of three inches per second will tear up fine clay;
six inches per second, fine sand; twelve inches per second, fine gravel;
and three feet per second, stones of the size of an egg. He remarks,
likewise, that the rapidity at the bottom of a stream is everywhere less
than in any part above it, and is greatest at the surface; and that in
the middle of the stream the particles at the top move swifter than
those at the sides. The ease with which running water bears along large
quantities of sand, gravel, and pebbles, ceases to surprise when we
consider that the specific gravity of rocks in water is much less than
in air.
It is chiefly in primary and transition countries that the rivers
exhibit those sudden descents, which pass under the general denomination
of falls, and form either cataracts or rapids. They occur in secondary
regions, but more rarely, and the descent is of a more gentle
description. The falls are generally found in the passage of streams
from the primitive to the other formations. Thus the line which divides
the primitive and alluvial formations on the coast of the United States,
is marked by the falls or rapids of its rivers, while none occur in the
alluvial below. Cataracts are formed by the descent of a river over a
precipice which is perpendicular, or nearly so, and depend, for their
sublimity, upon the height of the fall, and the magnitude of the stream.
Rapids are produced by the occurrence of a steeply-inclined plane, over
which the flood rushes with great impetuosity, yet without being
projected over a precipice. The great rivers of England--the Thames,
Trent and Severn--exhibit no example of either cataract or rapid, but
pursue a generally even and noiseless course; though near their sources,
while yet mere brooks and rivulets, most of our home streams present
these features in a very miniature manner. A true rapid occurs in the
course of the Shannon, just above Limerick, where the river, forty feet
deep, and three hundred yards wide, pours its body of water through and
above a congregation of huge rocks and stones, extending nearly half a
mile, and becomes quite unnavigable. Inglis had never heard of this
rapid before arriving in its neighborhood; but ranks it in grandeur and
effect, above either the Welsh water-falls or the Geisbach in
Switzerland. The river Adige, in the Tyrol, near Meran, rushes, with
resistless force and deafening noise, down a descent nearly a mile in
length, between quiet, green, pastoral banks, presenting one of the most
magnificent spectacles to be met with in Europe. The celebrated
cataracts of the Nile are, more properly speaking, rapids, as there is
no considerable perpendicular fall of the river; but for a hundred miles
at Wady Hafel, the second cataract reckoning upward, there is a
succession of steep descents, and a multitude of rocky islands, among
which the river dashes amid clouds of foam, and is tossed in perpetual
eddies. It is along the course of the American rivers, however, that the
most sublime and imposing rapids are found, rendered so by the great
volumes of water contained in their channels. The more remarkable are
those of the St. Lawrence, the chief of which, called the Coteau de Luc,
the Cedars, the Split Rock, and the Cascades, occur in succession for
about nine miles above Montreal and the junction of the Ottawa. At the
rapid of St. Anne, on the latter river, the more devout of the Canadian
_voyageurs_ are accustomed to land, and implore the protection of the
patron saint on their perilous expeditions, before a large cross at the
village that bears her name. The words of a popular song have
familiarized English ears with this habit of the hardy boatmen:--
“Faintly as tolls the evening chime,
Our voices keep tune and our oars keep time.
Soon as the woods on shore look dim,
We’ll sing at St. Ann’s our parting hymn.
Row, brothers, row, the stream runs fast,
The Rapids are near, and the daylight’s past.
“Utawa’s tide! this trembling moon
Shall see us float over thy surges soon.
Saint of this green isle hear our prayers,
Oh, grant us cool heavens and favoring airs.
Blow, breezes, blow, the stream runs fast,
The Rapids are near, and the daylight’s past.”
[Illustration: =Kaaterskill Falls.=]
The Kaaterskill Falls here represented are celebrated in America for
their picturesque beauty. The waters which supply these cascades flow
from two small lakes in the Catskill Mountains, on the west bank of the
Hudson. The upper cascade falls one hundred and seventy-five feet, and a
few rods below the second pours its waters over a precipice eighty feet
high, passing into a picturesque ravine, the banks of which rise
abruptly on each side to the height of a thousand to fifteen hundred
feet.
In the grandeur of their cataracts, also, the American rivers far
surpass those of other countries, though several falls on the ancient
continent have a greater perpendicular height, and are magnificent
objects. In Sweden, the Gotha falls about 130 feet at Trolhetta, the
greatest fall in Europe of the same body of water. The river is the only
outlet of a lake, a hundred miles in length and fifty in breadth, which
receives no fewer than twenty-four rivers; the water glides smoothly on,
increasing in rapidity, but quite unruffled, until it reaches the verge
of the precipice; it then darts over it in one broad sheet, which is
broken by some jutting rocks, after a descent of about forty feet. Here
begins a spectacle of great grandeur. The moving mass is tossed from
rock to rock, now heaving itself up in yellow foam, now boiling and
tossing in huge eddies, growing whiter and whiter in its descent, till
completely fretted into one beautiful sea of snowy froth, the spray,
rising in dense clouds, hides the abyss into which the torrent dashes;
but when momentarily cleared away by the wind, a dreadful gulf is
revealed, which the eye cannot fathom. Upon the arrival of a visitor at
Trolhetta, a log of wood is sent down the fall, by persons who expect a
trifle for the exhibition. It displays the resistless power of the
element. The log, which is of gigantic dimensions, is tossed like a
feather upon the surface of the water, and is borne to the foot almost
in an instant. In Scotland, the falls of its rivers are seldom of great
size; but the rocky beds over which they roar and dash in foam and
spray--the dark, precipitous glens into which they rush--and the
frequent wildness of the whole scenery around, are compensating
features. The most remarkable instances are the Upper and Lower Falls of
Foyers, near Loch Ness. At the upper fall, the river precipitates
itself, at three leaps, down as many precipices, whose united depth is
about 200 feet; but, at the lower, it makes a descent at once of 212
feet, and, after heavy rains, exhibits a grand appearance. The fall of
the Rhine at Schaffhausen is only 70 feet; but the great mass of its
waters, 450 feet in breadth, gives it an imposing character. The
Teverone, near Tivoli, a comparatively small stream, is precipitated
nearly 100 feet; and the Velino, near Terni, falls 300, which is
generally considered the finest of the European cataracts. This “hell of
waters,” as Byron calls it, is of artificial construction. A channel was
dug by the Consul Carius Dentatus in the year 274 B. C., to convey the
waters to the precipice, but having become filled up by a deposition of
calcareous matter, it was widened and deepened by order of Pope Paul IV.
“I saw,” says Byron, “the Cascata del Marmore of Terni twice at
different periods; once from the summit of the precipice, and again from
the valley below. The lower view is far to be preferred, if the traveler
has time for one only; but in any point of view, either from above or
below, it is worth all the cascades and torrents of Switzerland put
together.”
[Illustration: =Falls of Trolhetta.=]
In the Alpine highlands, the Evanson descends upward of 1200 feet, and
the Orco forms a vertical cataract of 2400; but in these instances the
quantity of water is small, and the chief interest is produced by the
height from which it falls. At Staubbach, in the Swiss Canton of Berne,
a small stream descends 1400 feet, and is shattered almost entirely into
spray before it reaches the bottom.
[Illustration: =Falls of Terni.=]
Waterfalls appear upon their grandest scale in the American continent.
They are not remarkable for the height of the precipices over which they
descend, or for the picturesque forms of the rocky cliffs amid which
they are precipitated, like the Alpine cataracts; but while these are
usually the fall of streamlets merely, those of the western world are
the rush of mighty rivers. The majority are in the northern part of the
continent, but the greatest vertical descent of a considerable body of
water is in the southern, at the Falls of Tequendama, where the river of
Funza disembogues from the elevated plain or valley of Santa Fe de
Bogota. This valley is at a greater height above the level of the sea
than the summit of the great St. Bernard, and is surrounded by lofty
mountains. It appears to have been formerly the bed of an extensive
lake, whose waters were drained off when the narrow passage was forced
through which the Funza river now descends from the elevated inclosed
valley toward the bed of the Rio Magdalena. Respecting this physical
occurrence Gonzalo Ximenes de Quesada, the conqueror of the country,
found the following tradition disseminated among the people, which
probably contains a stratum of truth invested with a fabulous legend. In
remote times the inhabitants of Bogota were barbarians, living without
religion, laws, or arts. An old man on a certain occasion suddenly
appeared among them of a race unlike that of the natives, and having a
long, bushy beard. He instructed them in the arts, but he brought with
him a malignant, although beautiful woman, who thwarted all his
benevolent enterprises. By her magical power she swelled the current of
the Funza, and inundated the valley, so that most of the inhabitants
perished, a few only having found refuge in the neighboring mountains.
The aged visitor then drove his consort from the earth, and she became
the moon. He next broke the rocks that inclosed the valley on the
Tequendama side, and by this means drained off the waters. Then he
introduced the worship of the sun, appointed two chiefs, and finally
withdrew to a valley, where he lived in the exercise of the most austere
penitence during 2000 years. The Tequendama cataract is remarkably
picturesque. The river a little above it is 144 feet in breadth, but at
the crevice it is much narrower. The height of the fall is 574 feet, and
the column of vapor that rises from it is visible from Santa Fe at the
distance of 17 miles. At the foot of the precipice the vegetation has a
totally different appearance from that at the summit, and the traveler,
following the course of the river, passes from a plain in which the
cereal plants of Europe are cultivated, and which abounds with oaks,
elms, and other trees resembling those of the temperate regions of the
northern hemisphere, and enters a country covered with palms, bananas,
and sugar-canes.
In Northern America, however, we find the greatest of all cataracts,
that of the Niagara, the sublimest object on earth, according to the
general opinion of all travelers. More varied magnificence is displayed
by the ocean, and giant masses of the Andes and Himalaya; but no single
spectacle is so striking and wonderful as the descent of this sea-like
flood, the overplus of four extensive lakes. The river is about
thirty-three miles in length, extending from lake Erie to lake Ontario,
and three-quarters of a mile wide at the fall. There is nothing in the
neighboring country to indicate the vicinity of the astonishing
phenomenon here exhibited. Leaving out lake Erie, the traveler passes
over a level though somewhat elevated plain, through which the river
flows tranquilly, bordered by fertile and beautiful banks; but soon a
deep, awful sound, gradually growing louder, breaks upon the ear--the
roar of the distant cataract. Yet the eye discerns no sign of the
spectacle about to be disclosed until a mile from it, when the water
begins to ripple, and is broken into a series of dashing and foaming
rapids. After passing these, the river becomes more tranquil, though
rolling onward with tremendous force, till it reaches the brink of the
great precipice. The fall itself is divided into two unequal portions by
the intervention of Goat Island, a façade near 1000 feet in breadth. The
one on the British side of the river, called the Horse-Shoe fall, from
its shape, according to the most careful estimate, is 2100 feet broad,
and 149 feet 9 inches high. The other or American fall is 1140 feet
broad, and 164 feet high. The former is far superior to the latter in
grandeur. The great body of the water passes over the precipice with
such force, that it forms a curved sheet which strikes the stream below
at the distance of 50 feet from the base, and some travelers have
ventured between the descending flood and the rock itself. Hannequin
asserts that four coaches might be driven abreast through this awful
chasm. The quantity of water rolling over these falls has been estimated
at 670,250 tons per minute. It is impossible to appreciate the scene
created by this immense torrent, apart from its site.
“The thoughts are strange that crowd into my brain,
While I look upward to thee. It would seem
As if God poured thee from his hollow hand,
And hung his bow upon thine awful front;
And spoke in that loud voice which seemed to him
Who dwelt in Patmos for his Saviour’s sake,
The sound of many waters; and had bade
Thy flood to chronicle the ages back,
And notch his centuries in the eternal rocks.
Deep calleth unto deep. And what are we,
That hear the question of that voice sublime?
Oh! what are all the notes that ever rung
From war’s vain trumpet, by thy thundering side?
Yea, what is all the riot man can make,
In his short life, to thy unceasing roar?
And yet, Bold Babbler! what art thou to Him,
Who drowned a world, and heaped the waters far
Above its loftiest mountains?--a light wave,
That breaks, and whispers of its Maker’s might.”
It has been remarked that at Niagara, several objects composing the
chief beauty of other celebrated water-falls are altogether wanting.
There are no cliffs reaching to an extraordinary height, crowned with
trees, or broken into picturesque and varied forms; for, though one of
the banks is wooded, the forest scenery on the whole is not imposing.
The accompaniments, in short, rank here as nothing. There is merely the
display, on a scale elsewhere unrivaled, of the phenomena appropriate to
this class of objects. There is the spectacle of a falling sea, the eye
filled almost to its utmost reach by the rushing of mighty waters. There
is the awful plunge into the abyss beneath, and the reverberation thence
in endless lines of foam, and in numberless whirlpools and eddies; there
are clouds of spray that fill the whole atmosphere, amid which the most
brilliant rainbows, in rapid succession, glitter and disappear; above
all, there is the stupendous sound, of the peculiar character of which
all writers, with their utmost efforts, seem to have vainly attempted to
convey an idea. Bouchette describes it as “grand, commanding and
majestic, filling the vault of heaven when heard in its fullness”--as “a
deep, round roar, and alternation of muffled and open sounds, to which
there is nothing exactly corresponding.” Captain Hall compares it to the
ceaseless, rumbling, deep-monotonous sound of a vast mill, which, though
not very practical, is generally considered as approaching near to the
reality. Dr. Reed states, “it is not like the sea; nor like the thunder;
nor like any thing I have heard. There is no roar, no rattle; nothing
sharp or angry in its tones; it is deep, awful--One.” The diffusion of
the noise varies according to the state of the atmosphere and the
direction of the wind, but it may be heard under favorable circumstances
through a distance of forty-six miles: at Toronto, across Lake Ontario.
To the geologist the Niagara falls have interest, on account of the
movement which it is supposed has taken place in their position. The
force of the waters appears to be wearing away the rock over which they
rush, and gradually shifting the cataract higher up the river. It is
conceived that by this process it has already receded in the course of
ages through a distance of more than seven miles, from a point between
Queenstown and Lewiston, to which the high level of the country
continues. The rate of procession is fixed, according to an estimate,
mentioned by Mr. M’Gregor, at eighteen feet during the thirty years
previous to 1810; but he adds another more recent, which raises it to
one hundred and fifty feet in fifty years.
The following account of a visit to the Falls of Niagara has been
communicated to us by Mr. N. Gould. It forms a part of his unpublished
_Notes on America and Canada_.
“My attention had been kept alive, and I was all awake to the sound of
the cataract; but, though within a few miles, I heard nothing. A cloud
hanging nearly steady over the forest, was pointed out to me as the
‘spray cloud;’ at length we drove up to Forsyth’s hotel, and the mighty
Niagara was full in view. My first impression was that of
disappointment--a sour sort of deep disappointment, causing, for a few
minutes, a kind of vacuity; but, while I mused, I began to take in the
grandeur of the scene. This impression is not unusual on viewing objects
beyond the ready catch of the senses; Stonehenge and St. Paul’s
cathedral seldom excite much surprise at first sight; the enormous
Pyramids, I have heard travelers say, strike with awe and silence on the
near approach, but require time to appreciate. The fact is, that the
first view of Niagara is a bad one; and the eye, in this situation, can
comprehend but a _small_ part of the wonderful scene. You look _down_
upon the cataract instead of _up_ to it; the confined channel, and the
depth of it, prevent the astounding roar which was anticipated; and, at
the same time, the eye wanders midway between the water and the cloud
formed by the spray, which it sees not. After a quarter of an hour’s
gaze, I felt a kind of fascination--a desire to find myself gliding into
eternity in the centre of the Grand Fall, over which the bright green
water appears to glide, like oil, without the least commotion. I
approached nearly to the edge of the ‘Table Rock,’ and looked into the
abyss. A lady from Devonshire had just retired from the spot; I was
informed she had approached its very edge, and sat with her feet over
the edge--an awful and dangerous proceeding. Having viewed the spot, and
made myself acquainted with some of its localities, I returned to the
hotel (Forsyth’s) which, as well as its neighboring rival, is admirably
situated for the view; from my chamber-window I looked directly upon it,
and the first night I could find but little sleep from the noise. Every
view I took increased my admiration; and I began to think that the other
Falls I had seen were, in comparison, like runs from kettle-spouts on
hot plates. I remained in this interesting neighborhood five days, and
saw the Fall in almost every point of view. From its extent, and the
angular line it forms, the eye cannot embrace it all at once; and,
probably, from this cause it is that no drawing has ever yet done
justice to it. The grandest view, in my opinion, is at the bottom, and
close to it, on the British side, where it is awful to look up through
the spray at the immense body as it comes pouring over, deafening you
with its roar; the lighter spray, at a considerable distance, hangs
poised in the air like an eternal cloud. The next best view is on the
American side, to reach which you cross in a crazy ferry-boat: the
passage is safe enough, but the current is strongly agitated. Its depth,
as near to the falls as can be approached, is from 180 to 200 feet. The
water, as it passes over the rock, where it is not whipped into foam, is
a most beautiful sea-green, and it is the same at the bottom of the
Falls. The foam, which floats away in large bodies, feels and looks like
salt water after a storm: it has a strong fishy smell. The river, at the
ferry, is 1170 feet wide. There is a great quantity of fish,
particularly sturgeon and bass, as well as eels; the latter creep up
against the rock under the Falls, as if desirous of finding some mode of
surmounting the heights. Some of the visitors go _under_ the Falls, an
undertaking more curious than pleasant. Three times did I go down to the
house, and once paid for my guide and _bathing_ dress, when something
occurred to prevent me. The lady before alluded to performed the
ceremony, and it is recorded, with her name, in the book, that she went
to the farthest extent that the guides can or will proceed. It is
described as like being under a heavy shower-bath, with a tremendous
whirlwind driving your breath from you, and causing a peculiarly
unpleasant sensation at the chest; the footing over the _débris_ being
slippery, the darkness barely visible, and the roar almost deafening. In
the passage you kick against eels, many of them unwilling to move, even
when touched: they appear to be endeavoring to work their way up the
stream.”
Supposing the cataract to be receding at the rate of fifty yards in
forty years, as it is stated by Captain Hall, the ravine which extends
from thence to Queenstown, a distance of seven miles, will have required
nearly ten thousand years for its excavation; and, at the same rate, it
will require upward of thirty-five thousand years for the falls to
recede to Lake Erie, a distance of twenty-five miles. The draining of
the lake, which is not more than ten or twelve fathoms in average depth,
must then take place, causing a tremendous deluge by the sudden escape
of its waters. In addition to the gradual erosion of the limestone,
which forms the bed of the Niagara at and above the falls, huge masses
of the rock are occasionally detached by the undermining of the soft
shale upon which it rests. This effect is produced by the action of the
spray powerfully thrown back upon the stratum of shale; and hence has
arisen the great hollow between the descending flood and the precipice.
An immense fragment fell on the 28th of December, 1828, with a crash
that shook the glass vessels in the adjoining inn, and was felt at the
distance of two miles from the spot. By this disintegration, the angular
or horse-shoe form of the great fall was lessened, and its grandeur
heightened by the line of the torrent becoming more horizontal. A
similar dislocation had occurred in the year 1818; and the aspect of the
precipice always so threatening, owing to the wearing away of the lower
stratum, as to render it an affair of some real hazard to venture
between the falling waters and the rock. Miss Martineau undertook the
enterprise, clad in the oil-skin costume used for the expedition, and
thus remarks concerning it:--“A hurricane blows up from the cauldron; a
deluge drives at you from all parts; and the noise of both wind and
waters, reverberated from the cavern, is inconceivable. Our path was
sometimes a wet ledge of rock, just broad enough to allow one person at
a time to creep along: in other places we walked over heaps of
fragments, both slippery and unstable. If all had been dry and quiet, I
might probably have thought this path above the boiling basin dangerous,
and have trembled to pass it; but, amidst the hubbub of gusts and
floods, it appeared so firm a footing, that I had no fear of slipping
into the cauldron. From the moment that I perceived we were actually
behind the cataract, and not in a mere cloud of spray, the enjoyment was
intense. I not only saw the watery curtain before me like tempest-driven
snow, but, by momentary glances, could see the crystal roof of this most
wonderful of Nature’s palaces. The precise point where the flood quitted
the rock was marked by a gush of silvery light, which of course was
brighter where the waters were shooting forward, than below, where they
fell perpendicularly.” There have been several hair-breadth escapes, and
not a few fatal accidents, at Niagara, the relation of which is highly
illustrative of Indian magnanimity. Tradition preserves the memory of
the warrior of the red race, who got entangled in the rapids above the
falls, and, seeing his fate inevitable, calmly resigned himself to it,
and sat singing in his canoe till buried by the torrent in the abyss to
which it plunges. The celebrated Chateaubriand narrowly escaped a
similar fate. On his arrival he had repaired to the fall, having the
bridle of his horse twisted round his arm. While he was stopping to look
down, a rattle-snake stirred among the neighboring bushes. The horse was
startled, reared, and ran back toward the abyss. He could not disengage
his arm from the bridle; and the horse, more and more frightened,
dragged him after him. His fore-legs were all but off the ground; and,
squatting on the brink of the precipice, he was upheld merely by the
bridle. He gave himself up for lost; when the animal, astonished at this
new danger, threw itself forward with a pirouette, and sprang to the
distance of ten feet from the edge of the abyss.
The erosive action of running water, which is urging the Niagara Falls
toward Lake Erie, is strikingly exhibited by several rivers which
penetrate through rocks and beds of compact strata, and have either
scooped out their own passage entirely, or widened and deepened original
tracks and fissures in the surface, into enormous wall-sided valleys.
The current of the Simeto--the largest Sicilian river round the base of
Etna--was crossed by a great stream of lava about two centuries and a
half ago; but, since that era, the river has completely triumphed over
the barrier of homogeneous hard blue rock that intruded into its
channel, and cut a passage through it from fifty to a hundred feet
broad, and from forty to fifty deep. The formation of the magnificent
rock-bridge which overhangs the course of the Cedar creek, one of the
natural wonders of Virginia, is very probably due in part to the solvent
and abrading power of the stream. This sublime curiosity is 213 feet
above the river, 60 feet wide, 90 long, and the thickness of the mass at
the summit of the arch is about 40 feet. The bridge has a coating of
earth, which gives growth to several large trees. To look down from its
edge into the chasm inspires a feeling answering to the words of
Shakspeare:
“Come on, sir; here’s the place:--stand still. How fearful
And dizzy ’tis, to cast one’s eyes so low!”
Few have resolution enough to walk to the parapet, in order to peep over
it. But if the view from the top is painful and intolerable, that from
below is pleasing in an equal degree. The beauty, elevation, and
lightness of the arch, springing as it were up to heaven, present a
striking instance of the graceful in combination with the sublime. This
great arch of rock gives the name of Rock-bridge to the county in which
it is situated, and affords a public and commodious passage over a
valley which cannot be crossed elsewhere for a considerable distance.
Under the arch, thirty feet from the water, the lower part of the
letters G. W. may be seen, carved in the rock. They are the initials of
Washington, who, when a youth, climbed up hither, and left this record
of his adventure. We have several examples of the disappearance of
rivers, and their emergence after pursuing for some distance a
subterranean course. In these cases a barrier of solid rock, overlaying
a softer stratum has occurred in their path; and the latter has been
gradually worn away by the waters, and a passage been constructed
through it. Thus the Tigris, about twenty miles from its source, meets
with a mountainous ridge at Diglou, and, running under it, flows out at
the opposite side. The Rhone, also, soon after coming within the French
frontier, passes under ground for about a quarter of a mile. Milton, in
one of his juvenile poems, speaks of the
“Sullen Mole, that runneth underneath;”
and Pope calls it, after him, the
“Sullen Mole, that hides his diving flood.”
[Illustration: =Natural Bridge, Virginia.=]
The Hamps and the Manifold, likewise--two small streams in
Derbyshire--flow in separate subterraneous channels for several miles,
and emerge within fifteen yards of each other in the grounds of Ilam
Hall. That these are really the streams which are swallowed up at points
several miles distant has been frequently proved, by watching the exit
of various light bodies that have been absorbed at the swallows. At
their emergence, the waters of the two rivers differ in temperature
about two degrees--an obvious proof that they do not anywhere
intermingle. On the side of the hill, which is overshadowed with
spreading trees, just above the spot where the streams break forth into
daylight, there is a rude grotto, scooped out of the rock, in which
Congreve is said to have written his comedy of the “Old Bachelor,” and a
part of his “Mourning Bride.” In Spain, a similar phenomenon is
exhibited by the Guadiana; but it occurs under different circumstances.
It disappears for about seven leagues--an effect of the absorbing power
of the soil--the intervening space consisting of sandy and marshy
grounds, across which the road to Andalusia passes by a long bridge or
causeway. The river reappears with greater power, after its dispersion,
at the Ojos de Guadiana--the Eyes of the stream.
[_To be continued._
* * * * *
=REMEMBERED ONES.=
=BY J. HUNT, JR.=
Not those who’ve trod the martial field,
And led to arms a battling host,
And at whose name “the world grew pale,”
Will be in time remembered most:
But they who’ve walked the “paths of peace,”
And gave their aid to deeds t’were just,
Shall live for aye, on Mem’ry’s page,
When heroes sleep in unknown dust.
* * * * *
=THE GAME OF THE MONTH.=
=BY HENRY WILLIAM HERBERT, AUTHOR OF “FRANK FORESTER’S FIELD SPORTS,”
“FISH AND FISHING,” ETC.=
[Illustration]
=THE BITTERN. AMERICAN BITTERN.= _Ardea Minor sive Lentiginos._
=THE INDIAN HEN. THE QUAWK. THE DUNKADOO.=
This, though a very common and extremely beautiful bird, with an
exceedingly extensive geographic range, is the object of a very general
and perfectly inexplicable prejudice and dislike, common, it would seem,
to all classes. The gunner never spares it, although it is perfectly
inoffensive; and although the absurd prejudice, to which I have alluded,
causes him to cast it aside, when killed, as uneatable carrion; its
flesh being in reality very delicate and juicy, and still held in high
repute in Europe; while here one is regarded very much in the light of a
cannibal, as I have myself experienced, for venturing to eat it. The
farmer and the boatman stigmatize it by a filthy and indecent name. The
cook turns up her nose at it, and throws it to the cat; for the dog,
wiser than his master, declines it--not as unfit to eat, but as game,
and therefore meat for his masters.
Now the Bittern would not probably be much aggrieved at being voted
carrion, provided his imputed carrion-_dom_, as Willis would probably
designate the condition, procured him immunity from the gun.
But to be shot first and thrown away afterward, would seem to be the
very excess of that condition described by the common phrase of adding
injury to insult.
Under this state of mingled persecution and degradation, it must be the
Bittern’s best consolation that, in the days of old, when the wine of
Auxerre, now the common drink of republican Yankeedom, which annually
consumes of it, or in lieu of it, more than grows of it annually in all
France, was voted by common consent the drink of kings--he, with his
congener and compatriot the Heronschaw, was carved by knightly hands,
upon the noble deas under the royal canopy, for gentle dames and
peerless damoiselles; nay, was held in such repute, that it was the wont
of prowest chevaliers, when devoting themselves to feats of emprise most
perilous, to swear “before God, the bittern, and the ladies!” an honor
to which no quadruped, and but two plumy bipeds, other than himself, the
heron and the peacock, were admitted.
Those were the days, before gunpowder, “grave of chivalry,” was taught
to Doctor Faustus by the Devil, who did himself no good by the
indoctrination, but exactly the reverse, since war is thereby rendered
less bloody, and much more uncruel--the days when no booming duck-gun
keeled him over with certain and inglorious death, as he flapped up with
his broad vans beating the cool autumnal air, and his long,
greenish-yellow legs pendulous behind him, from out of the dark
sheltering water-flags by the side of the brimful river, or the dark
woodland tarn; but when the cheery yelp of a cry of feathery-legged
spaniels aroused him from his arundinaceous, which is interpreted by
moderns reedy, lair; when the triumphant whoop of the jovial falconers
saluted his uprising; and when he was done to death right chivalrously,
with honorable law permitted to him, as to the royal stag, before the
long-winged Norway falcons, noblest of all the fowls of air, were