Abbildungen der Seite
PDF
EPUB

CHAMBERS'S EDINBURGH JOURNAL.

printing-office knocks to pieces all the old-fashioned organisation of the establishment? The "office" is no longer an office on a second floor; it is a whole house -compositors are sextupled in number-the wooden presses disappear, being thrust as lumber into some out-of-the-way den, where they are released from all their mortal toils-boys are seen stuck about at various odds and ends of employment-there is a loud rumbling noise of machinery in the lower regions, and the whole concern wears a bustling joyous aspect, quite a different thing from what used to prevail in the dull Dutch-spectacle-on-nose days of the eighteen hundred and ones.

A visit to a modern printing establishment, as may bo imagined from these few observations, opens up a new scene for thought. You have for some time been perfectly aware of the fact, that there was an immense deal of printing executed that the world was becoming a kind of great book-shop, and all the men and women merely readers-but you never exactly formed an idea how this prodigious supply of literature was effected. Here, then, the miracle is at once explained. Printing is now a manufacture. The printing-office is a Factory. And the interior of one of these concerns usually presents a remarkable spectacle of industry, animate and inanimate, which to a stranger leaves a lasting impression on the memory. We have a distinct recollection of our feelings of wonder on seeing for the first time printing machinery in full operation; and though now accustomed to the sight, we always pause a few moments in respectful admiration of the process, and the intellect which brought it into use. To see printing on a grand scale, however, it would be necessary to visit the establishment of Messrs Clowes in London, which is much the largest in Britain, and, consequently, in the world.

A writer in a late number of the Quarterly Review records his astonishment and delight on visiting this very large concern, of which he has noted a few particulars which are worthy of the reader's notice, as giving a graphic picture of a modern printing-house. The printing establishment of Messrs Clowes, on the Surrey side of the Thames (for they have a branch office at Charing Cross), is situated between Blackfriars and Waterloo Bridges. Their buildings extend in length from Prince's Street to Duke Street, and in breadth about half the distance. The entrance is by rather a steep declivity into a little low court, on arriving at which, the small counting-house is close on the left; the great steam-presses, type and stereotype foundry, and paper-warehouse, on the right; and the apartments for compositors, readers, &c., in front. In the last-mentioned building there are five compositors' halls, the largest of which (on two levels, the upper being termed by the workmen the quarter deck') is two hundred feet in length. The door is nearly in the centre, and, on entering this apartment at daybreak, the stranger sees at once before him, on his right and left, sixty compositors' frames, which, though much larger, are about the height of the music stands in an orchestra. At this early hour they are all deserted, their daily tenants not having arrived. ont Not a sound is to be heard save the slow ticking of a gin gaudy-faced wooden clock, the property of the workmen, end which faithfully tells when they are entitled to refreshment, and which finally announces to them the joyful intelligence that the hour of their emancipation has arrived.

[ocr errors]

of

the

By eight o'clock the whole body have arrived. Many in their costume resemble common labourers; others are better clad; several are very well dressed; but all bear in their countenances the appearance of men of considerable intelligence and education. They have scarcely assumed their respective stations, when blue mugs, containing each a pint or half a pint of tea or coffee, and attended either by a smoking hot roll stuffed with yellow butter, or by a couple of slices of bread and butter, enter the hall. The little girls, who with well-combed hair and clean shining faces bring these refreshments, carry them to those who have not breakfasted at home. Before the empty mugs have vanished, a boy enters the hall at a fast walk with a large bundle under his arm-of morning newspapers: this intellectual luxury the compositors, by a friendly subscription, allow themselves to enjoy. From their connection with the different presses, they manage to obtain the very earliest copies, and thus the news of the day is known to them the leading articles of the different papers are criticised, applauded, or condemned-an hour or two before the great statesmen of the country have received the observations, the castigation, or the intelligence they contain.

It is impossible to contemplate a team of sixty literary labourers steadily working together in one room, without immediately acknowledging the important service they are rendering to the civilised world, and the respect which, therefore, is due to them from society. The minutiae of their art it might be deemed tedious to detail; yet with so many operators in view, it is not difficult, even for an inexperienced visitor, to distinguish the different degrees of perfection at which they have individually arrived."

which, in three compartments, are all working at the
same time. The simultaneous revolution of so much
complicated machinery, crowded together in compa-
ratively a very small compass, coupled with a mo-
ment's reflection upon the important purpose for
which it is in motion, is astounding to the mind; and
as broad leather straps are rapidly revolving in all
directions, the stranger pauses for a moment to con-
sider whether or not he may not get entangled in the
process, and against his inclination, as authors gene-
rally say in their prefaces, go 'to press.'

We will not weary our reader by attempting a
minute delineation of the wonderful picture before
him, or even introduce to his notice the intelligent
engineer, who, in a building apart from the machinery,
is in solitude regulating the clean, well-kept, noiseless
steam-engine which gives it motion; we will merely
describe the literary process. The lower part of each
of the nineteen steam-presses we have mentioned,
consists of a bed or table, near the two ends of which
lie prostrate the two sets of forms,' containing the
types we have just seen adjusted, and from which im-
pressions are to be taken.

6

Society's plates, many of which are fairly entitled
to the rest they are enjoying, having already given
hundreds of thousands of impressions to the world.
Among the plates in this store there are to be seen
reposing those of thirteen varieties of bibles and tes-
taments, of numerous books of hymns and psalms, of
fifteen different dictionaries, and of a number of other
books of acknowledged sterling value; it is with feel-
devoted to religious instruction, amounting to no less
ings of pride and satisfaction that the stranger beholds
before him, in a single cellar, a capital, principally
than L.200,000."

Ascending to the drying and sorting rooms, where
the printed sheets are gathered and packed-" the
quantity of paper here amounts to about 3000 reams,
each weighing about 25 pounds. The supply of white
paper in store, kept in piles about 20 feet high, ave-
rages about 7000 reams; the amount of paper printed
every week and delivered for publication amounts to
about 1500 reams (of 500 sheets), each of which ave-
rages in size 3893 square inches. The supply, there-
in a path of 224 inches broad, extend 1230 miles; the
fore, of white paper kept on hand, would, if laid down
quantity printed on both sides per week would form a
path of the same breadth of 263 miles in length. The
ink used in the same space of time amounts to about
But it is necessary to draw to a conclusion, and we
12,000 lbs. The cost of the paper may be about
L.100,000; that of the ink exceeding L.1500."
"It is impossible for the mind to contemplate, for
may do so in the valedictory language of the reviewer:
a single moment, the moral force of the British press,
without reflecting, and without acknowledging, that
under Providence it is the only engine that can now
save the glorious institutions of the British empire
from the impending ruin that awaits them," from
the hand of intemperate ignorance and violence.

By the power of machinery, these types, at every throb of the engine, are made horizontally to advance and retire. At every such movement they are met half way by seven advancing black rollers, which diagonally pass over them, and thus, by a most beautiful process, impart to them ink sufficient only for a single impression. Above the table, the forms, and the rollers we have described, are, besides other wheels, two very large revolving cylinders, covered with flannel; the whole apparatus being surmounted by a boy, who has on a lofty table by his side a pile of quires of white paper. Every time the lower bed has moved, this boy places on the upper cylinder a sheet of paper, which is ingeniously confined to its station by being CORAL ISLANDS-HOW THEY ARE CLOTHED slipped under two strings of tape. It is, however, no sooner affixed there, than by a turn of the engine, WITH VEGETATION. revolving with the cylinder, it is flatly deposited on the first of the forms,' which, by the process we have described, has been ready inked to receive it: it is A VALUABLE addition has lately been made to geography there instantaneouly pressed, is then caught up by and natural history, by the publication of a narrative of the other cylinder, and, after rapidly revolving with the surveying voyages of the "Adventure and Beagle." it, it is again left with its white side imposed upon the The southern shores of South America were the parts second form,' where it is again subjected to pressure, chiefly explored, but notices are given of other quarters from which it is no sooner released, than it is hurried of the globe. Amongst a number of very interesting within the grasp of another boy at the bottom part of details in the volume devoted to natural history, the recently formed coral islands in the Pacific Ocean. We the machinery, who, illumined by a gas light, extri-production of Mr Darwin, naturalist to the expedition, give the following extract as a specimen of Mr Darwin's cates it from the cylinder, and piles it on a heap by not the least so are the descriptions of some of the more talents:his side.

By virtue of this beautiful process, a sheet of paper, by two revolutions of the engine, with the assistance only of two boys, is imprinted on both sides, with not only, say sixteen pages of letter press, but with the various wood-cuts which they contain. Excepting an hour's intermission, the engines, like the boys, are at regular work from eight A. M. till eight P. M., besides night-work, when it is required. Each steam-press is capable of printing one thousand sheets an hour.*

Notwithstanding the noise and novelty of this scene, it is impossible either to contemplate for a moment the machinery in motion we have described, or to calculate its produce, without being deeply impressed with the inestimable value to the human race of the art of printing-an art which, in spite of the opposition it first met with, in spite of the envious clouds which seemed bent to dim its glory and check its bright course,' has triumphantly risen above the miasmatical ignorance and superstition which would willingly have smothered it.

In the fifteenth century (the era of the invention
of the art), the brief-men or writers who lived by
their manuscripts, seeing that their occupation was
about to be superseded, boldly attributed the inven-
tion to the devil, and, building on this foundation,
men were warned from using diabolical books' written
by victims devoted to hell. The monks in particular
were its inveterate opposers; and the Vicar of Croy-
don, as if he had foreseen the Reformation which it
subsequently effected, truly enough exclaimed, in a
sermon preached by him at St Paul's Cross, We must
root out printing, or printing will root out us!"

At Messrs Clowes's, the businesses of type-founding
and stereotyping are carried on in aid of the general
concern, by which means there is an ever-fresh supply
of material. "The number of sheets now standing in
type in Messrs Clowes's establishment, each weighing
on an average about 100 pounds, are above 1600. The
weight of type not in forms amounts to about 100
possession to about 2000 tons; the cost to the pro-
tons !-the weight of the stereotype plates in their
prietors (without including the original composition
of the types from which they were cast) about
L.200,000. The number of woodcuts is about 50,000, of
The stereotype plates (as we have already
which stereotype casts are sent to Germany, France,
&c.
stated) weigh 2000 tons. They are contained in two
strong rooms or cellars, which appear to the stranger
to be almost a mass of metal. The smallest of these
receptacles is occupied entirely with the Religious Tract

Some machines employed in

"The next morning, after anchoring, I went on shore on Direction Island. The strip of dry land is only a few hundred yards wide; on the lagoon side we have a white

calcareous beach, the radiation from which in such a
climate is very oppressive; and on the outer coast a solid
there is some sand, the land is entirely composed of
broad flat of coral rock, which serves to break the vio-
lence of the open sea. Excepting near the lagoon, where
rounded fragments of coral. In such a loose, dry, stony
soil, the climate of the intertropical regions alone could
produce a vigorous vegetation. On some of the smaller
without destroying each other's symmetry, were mingled
islets, nothing could be more elegant than the manner in
which the young and the full-grown cocoa-nut trees,
a border to these fairy spots.
into one wood. A beach of glittering white sand formed

I will now give a sketch of the natural history of these
islands, which, from its very paucity, possesses a peculiar
to compose the whole wood; there are, however, five or
interest. The cocoa-nut tree, at the nrst glance, seems
six other kinds. One of these grows to a very large size,
another sort affords excellent timber for ship-building.
but, from the extreme softness of its wood, is useless;
Besides the trees, the number of plants is exceedingly
there are twenty species, without reckoning a moss,
limited, and consists of insignificant weeds. In my col-
lection, which includes, I believe, nearly the perfect flora,
lichen and fungus. To this number two trees must be
added, one of which was not in flower, and the other I
only heard of. The other is a solitary tree of its kind in
the whole group, and grows near the beach, where, with-
out doubt, the one seed was thrown up by the waves. I
do not include in the above list the sugar-cane, banana,
some other vegetables, fruit-trees, and imported grasses.
As these islands consist entirely of coral, and at one time
probably existed as a mere water-washed reef, all the
productions now living here must have been transported
by the waves of the sea. In accordance to this, the flora
has quite the character of a refuge for the destitute:
Professor Henslow informs me, that of the twenty species,
nineteen belong to different genera, and these again to

no less than sixteen orders!

·

In Holman's Travels an account is given on the authority of Mr A. S. Keating, who resided twelve months on these islands, of the various seeds and other bodies which have been known to have been washed on shore. Seeds by the surf on the windward side of the islands. Among them have been found the Kimini, native of Sumatra and and plants from Sumatra and Java have been driven up. the peninsula of Malacca; the cocoa-nut of Balei, known round its trunk, and supporting itself by the paicles on by its shape and size; the dadass, which is planted by its stem; the soap tree, the castor-oil plant, trunks of the Malays with the pepper-vine, the latter intwining the sago palm, and various kinds of seeds unknown to the Malays who settled on the islands. These are all

monsoon to the coast of New Holland, and thence to

[graphic]

* [This is a little exaggerated. The steam-press for book-work turns out between 750 and 800 sheets an hour; and as a common Passing over the account of the process of composing, and also of correcting the proof sheets, as containing hand-press, wrought by two men, produces only 125 sheets or nothing new, we accompany the visitor to the ground 250 sides per hour, each machine may be said to do the work of supposed to have been driven on shore by the north-west floor, whence, on approaching the northern wing of about six presses, or twelve men. the establishment, he hears a deep rumbling sound, printing newspapers, execute 4000 impressions or sides per hour, these islands by the south-east trade-wind. Large masses gum-wood of New Holland, in a perfectly sound condithe meaning of which he is at a loss to understand, cally, however, the work is of that description which is altogether of Java teak and yellow wood have also been found, beuntil the doors before him being and white cedar, and the blue denly introduced to nineteen enormous steam-presses, it could not be done at all.]

and thus individually do the work of thirty-two men.

Practi

tion. All the hardy seeds, such as creepers, retain their germinating power; but the softer kinds, among which is the mangostin, are destroyed in the passage. Fishing canoes, apparently from Java, have at times been washed on shore. It is interesting thus to discover how numerous the seeds are, which, coming from several countries, me, he believes that nearly all the plants which I brought from this island are common littoral species in the East India Archipelago. From the direction, however, of the winds and currents, it seems scarcely possible that they can have come here in a direct line. If, as suggested with much probability by Mr Keating, they have first been carried towards the coast of New Holland, and thence drifted back again, together with the productions of that country, the seeds, before germinating, must have travelled between 1800 and 2400 miles." The list of land animals is even poorer than that of plants. Some of the islets are inhabited by rats, which owe their origin to a ship here wrecked. There are no true land birds, but plenty of the web-footed species. Of reptiles, only one small lizard was found. A great many kinds of insects were, however, obtained in numbers. Spiders were very abundant, and a small species of ant swarmed under the loose dry coral. Although the productions of the land were thus scanty, the surrounding seas were found crowded with life. Whence, it may be asked, came even these few land animals? There seems to us but one answer to this query---their eggs must have been wafted hither by the winds.

are drifted over the wide ocean. Professor Henslow tells

THE DOG OF BRETTEN.

BY AN OFFICER OF THE FRENCH ARMY.

I am

|

when off trotted the dog to fetch the provisions, which
ANECDOTES OF TURENNE.
he religiously respected. If his master wished to invite
MARSHAL TURENNE, an eminent French general,
any friend to come and see him, he had but to utter
the name, and the dog would run off, and pulling the who flourished in the reign of Louis XIV., was one
intended guest by the coat, inform him that he was
of the most generous and high-minded men of his
wanted. Every body was fond of the dog, and every age. It has been said that his generosity and bene-
body called it the dog of Bretten. One day the sports-volence had no limits. No one ever begged of him,
man sent his dog with his basket, and a note to the without receiving something; and if he had nothing
butcher, who was a zealous Catholic, whereas the in his purse at the moment, he borrowed from any
officer near him, desiring the lender to ask it back
sportsman was a Protestant. The animal arrived at
the shop, wagged his tail, and presented his note, from his treasurer. That functionary, in reference
which was for some sausages. Sausages on a Friday! to this practice, came to the marshal one day, and
exclaimed the butcher, colouring with rage. Meat said that he suspected some persons of coming to
on a Friday! Well, if you must have meat,' said the ask sums which they had never lent. "Give them,
ruffian, taking a hatchet, and cutting off the poor dog's nevertheless, all that they ask," said Turenne; "if
tail close to the rump, and then putting it into the they have lent money to me, they must in justice be
basket, 'there it is.' The poor dog, bleeding and in pain, repaid; if they have not lent it to me, the poor rogues
returned home, laid his basket before his master, must be in great distress, else they would never have
stretched himself out, and died. Judge of the fury of his thought of making such a request; and so we should
master. He rushed out of his house, armed with a sword, assist them." He was ingenious in devising means
determined to kill the butcher. Fortunately for him- for sparing the feelings of those to whom he gave as-
self, the wretch got notice of the intended visit, and sistance. A poor gentleman having come to the army
escaped from the town, for men, women, and children, ill furnished with necessaries, the marshal feigned
had sworn to avenge the cruel murder of their favou-
rite. On the following day it was unanimously voted him an admirable set in exchange for very infe-
an anxiety to have certain horses of his, and gave
that as the poor dog could not be brought to life, his rior animals, affecting to be the party favoured and
portrait should be embodied in the town arms." benefited by the bargain. A large sum of money
once fell to him as his own property. Pretending to
have received it purposely from the court, he assem-
bled all those officers who most required aid, and
divided it betwixt them, as the bounty of the sove-
reign. On another occasion, when an officer had got
his horses killed in battle, Turenne supplied their
place at his own cost, at the same time telling the
officer not to speak of the donation, as "he had not
the means of so acting by every one;" thus, upon a
pretext of economy, getting his generosity kept secret.
His disinterestedness in money matters cannot be
better displayed than by mentioning the single fact,
that while all other generals of the day grew rich, he
ended his campaigns poorer than when he began.
One day, when he was in the enemy's country, the
inhabitants of a neighbouring city sent to offer him a
hundred thousand crowns if he would take his army
by a route different from that in which their city lay.
"As your city does not lie in the line in which I al-
ways intended to take my troops, I cannot accept the
money you offer me." Delicacy of conscience was never
carried farther. Well might the enemies of France
weep, as they are said to have done, for Turenne.

SCRAPS FROM LORREQUER.
THE following anecdote of Curran is too good to be
lost, and is not generally known :-

Poor Philpot, when he dined with the guild of mer-
chant tailors, they gave him a gold box with their arms
upon it-a goose proper with needles saltier wise, or
something of that kind; and they made him free of their
"ancient and loyal corporation," and gave him a very
grand dinner. Well, Curran was mighty pleasant and
agreeable, and kept them laughing all night till the mo-
ment he rose to go away, and then he told them that he
never spent so happy an evening, and all that. " But,
gentlemen," said he, "business has its calls-I must tear
myself away; so, wishing you now every happiness and
prosperity"-there were just eighteen of them-" permit
me to take my leave," and here he stole near the door-

[ocr errors]

A very curious incident in the life of the Rev. Arthur O'Leary is humorously transferred to the Knight of Kerry. When O'Leary was a student in France, he went to see an exhibition of "The Wild Man of the Sea," and found that the show was an Irishman stitched into a bear-skin. Lorrequer has removed the exhibition to London, and substituted the knight for the friar, with what effect the reader may judge for himself.

The knight paid his money, and was admitted. At first the crowd prevented his seeing any thing-for the place was full to suffocation, and the noise awful-for, besides the exclamations and applause of the audience, there were three barrel-organs playing, "Home, sweet Home," and "Cherry Ripe," and the wild man himself contributed his share to the uproar. At last the knight obtained, by dint of squeezing, a view of his person, and, to his very great horror, beheld a figure that far eclipsed

the portrait without doors.

In the year 1811, I quitted the grand army, then in
Germany, on a mission to Spain; and on my way
stopped at Bretten, a little town of the Grand Duchy
of Baden. I proceeded to the Rath-Haus (town hall),
to apply for a billet, and there found the burgomaster
conversing, or rather disputing, with one of the inha-
bitants, who did not spare big words, which are
still more big in German than in French. The burgo-
master appeared delighted at the arrival of a stranger,
as it delivered him from his disagreeable tête-à-tête.
He sent off his man in a very bad humour, who pre-
sently returned and said, "I have served you faith-"to take my leave, and bid you both good night."
fully, and find that the proverb is verified.
treated in the same way as the dog of Bretten. They
have put his picture into the town arms, and in order
that it may be complete, you should write my name
under it. This language was, of course, unintelligible
to me; but looking towards the wall, I saw the arms
of Bretten surmounted by a dog without a tail. My
brave Medor, who had made with me all the campaigns
of Napoleon, was by my side; he was a good creature,
but by no means handsome; his tail had been cut
short off, which did not improve his appearance.
"Sir," said the burgomaster to me, 66
your dog is
exactly like that of our town armis. I hope, how
ever, that he will not meet with the same mishap, or
rather with something equivalent, for his tail has been
cropped short already?" "This is the second time," said
I, "that I have heard the dog of the town arms men-
tioned. Pray tell me its history."
66 Willingly,"
replied the burgomaster; "but you are fatigued, and
are in more need of a dinner than a history. Your
billet is to my house, and if you will go there with this
lad, who will show you the way, I will soon follow
you. I have a few orders to give, and in the mean-
time, whilst the dinner is preparing, my wife will do
her best to amuse you." Having accepted the kind
offer of the burgomaster, I set off with my guide, who,
as soon as we were in the street, said, "Looking at
your dog, sir, one would say that you had stolen him
out of the town arms." As we went along, men, women,
and children, cried out, "Look! look! there's the dog
of Bretten! the town dog come to life!" When we had
arrived at the house of the burgomaster, I was very
well received by his wife, but she cried out, "Der
Bretten's hund!" as soon as she saw my dog; and then
added, "I hope, sir, he will not be served like the dog
of Bretten. But that is impossible; for his tail is cut
off as short as it well could be." "Madam," said I,
"I have not been in your town more than half an
hour, and I have heard of nothing but the dog of
Bretten. The worthy burgomaster has promised to
tell me its history; but as I am curious to know it at
once, perhaps you will have the goodness to relate it."
The lady replied that she would not deprive her hus-
band of that pleasure; but as to the history, it was well
known to every urchin in the town. The burgomaster
soon arrived; and when he had feasted me with true
German hospitality, I reminded him of his promise.
"It is a very old story," said he, "for the proverb
which you have already heard is to be found in the
oldest books. It is mentioned by Fischart, who wrote
in the middle of the sixteenth century.
country, when a man has not been rewarded for his
services, we say, 'He is treated in the same way as
the dog of Bretten.' There was formerly in Bretten a
sportsman whose dog, which was full of sagacity, had
been admirably trained. He wanted nothing but
speech, and the want of this he sometimes seemed to
supply by the peculiar wagging of his tail. He was
alike valuable in the field and in the town. He exe-
cuted all the commissions of his master, who had no-
thing to do but to put a basket in his mouth, with a
note to the butcher, or the baker, or the grocer, in
which was enclosed the money for what he wanted,
and to mention the word butcher, baker, or grocer,

In our

|

It was a man nearly naked, covered with long shaggy
hair, that grew even over his nose and cheek bones. He
sprang about, sometimes on his feet, sometimes all-fours,
but always uttering the most fearful yells, and glaring
upon the crowd in a manner that was really dangerous
The knight did not feel exactly happy at the whole pro-
ceeding, and began heartily to wish himself back in the
"house," even upon a committee of privileges, when
suddenly the savage gave a more frantic yell than before,
and seized upon a morsel of raw beef, which a keeper
extended to him upon a long fork like a tandem whip, as
he was not safe, it appears, at close quarters. This he
tore to pieces eagerly, and devoured in the most voracious
of satisfaction from the audience. “
manner, amid great clapping of hands and other evidences
the knight, "for God knows whether in his hungry moods
I'll go now," thought
he might not fancy to conclude his dinner by a member
of parliament." Just at this instant some sounds struck
upon his ear, which surprised him not a little. He lis-
tened more attentively; and conceive, if you can, his
amazement to find that amid his most fearful cries and
wild yells the savage was talking Irish. Laugh if you
like, but it's truth I'm telling you ; nothing less than Irish.
There he was, jumping four feet high in the air, eating
his raw meat, pulling out his hair by handfuls, and amid
all this, cursing the whole company to his heart's content
in as good Irish as ever was heard in Tralee. Now,
though the knight had heard of red Jews and white
Negroes, he had never happened to hear any account of
degrees not only the words were known to him, but the
an African Irishman; so he listened very closely, and by
very voice was familiar. At length something he heard
left no further doubt on his mind, and turning to the
savage, he addressed him in Irish, at the same time fix-
ing a look of most scrutinising import upon him.
"Who are you, you scoundrel " said the knight.
"Billy M'Cabe, your honour."

The care which he took of the fortunes of his officers and soldiers, from the greatest to the least, was incessant. He made known their services to the

court, and never allowed his veterans to suffer distress
in their old age, or merit to go unrewarded. To his
domestic servants his liberality was extreme.
On one
occasion a servant of his went to Colbert, the financial
minister, and had the audacity to use his master's
name in asking for some small place for himself.
Colbert was charmed with the opportunity of serving
Turenne, and brought to him in person the commis
sion or document appointing the petitioner to the
office. The marshal was surprised, but said nothing,
been done. The man, conscious of his fault, fell on
till he called for the domestic by whom the thing had
his knees, and begged for mercy. Turenne raised
him, and put the commission into his hands, saying,
for you; I am only sorry that any thing should have
"If you had spoken to me, I would have done this
occurred to take you away from my service." The
confounded domestic stammered something about his
"large family," and the generous hero aided him with
money to enter on his new office. Turenne had a
degree of self-command and power of restraining his
passions, equalled only by what we are told of some
great men of antiquity. One day, while passing along
entangled with others, on which a young gentleman
the streets of Paris in his coach, the vehicle became
grew angry with Turenne's coachman, and coming up
to him, struck him with a cane. "What!" cried a
bystander, "will you dare to beat the servants of
Turenne?" The young gentleman believed he had
ruined himself, but Turenne merely said, with a
smile, "You understand how to chastise my people,
sir, most admirably; they need it sometimes; and
when occasion again occurs, I shall send for you."
Reproof lay under this remark, but of a gentle and

generous kind.

His integrity was proverbial. All the nations with whom he came in contact in war, knew this so well, that, in making treaties or entering into engagements of any kind, they always sought the guarantee of his personal word, and, having obtained this, cared for no other security. Even French diplomatists, at distant courts, gained their ends by the mere aid of his name for good faith. The modesty of this great general was an equally conspicuous trait in his character. His cesses, were brief statements of fact, unvarnished and unexaggerated. His letters show him to have had a profound sense of religion. Many such passages as the following occur:-"We are about to open the campaign. I have prayed earnestly to God that he will enable me to pass through it in his fear, knowing no greater earthly blessing than to have a conscience at ease, as far as our weak nature will permit."

"And what do you mean by playing off your tricks dispatches, even when announcing the grandest suc

[ocr errors]

I'm

here, instead of earning your bread like an honest man?"
Whisht," said Billy, "and keep the secret.
earning the rent for your honour. One must do many a
queer thing that pays two pound ten an acre for bad

land."

This was enough: the knight wished Billy every success, and left him amid the vociferous applause of a well satisfied audience. This adventure, it seems, has made the worthy knight a great friend to the introduction of poor-laws, for, he remarks very truly, “ more of Billy's countrymen might take a fancy to a savage life, if the secret was found out."

EDINBURGH: Printed and published by W. and R. CHAMBERS, 19, Waterloo Place.-Agents, W. S. ORR, London; W. CURRY Jun. & Co. Dublin; J. MACLEOD, Glasgow; sold by all booksellers.

!

[graphic][ocr errors][ocr errors][subsumed][subsumed][ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][ocr errors]

E

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]

NUMBER 429.

THE MANAGEMENT OF THE POOR.
THAT there always will be poor in all communities,
is, we believe, pretty generally acknowledged. It is,
however, matter of debate, by what regulations the
numbers and sufferings of the poor are most likely
to be kept at a low amount. The opinions on this
subject are very various and opposite, and the practice
is also different in different countries. It is obviously
a question for which a settlement is greatly desirable,
seeing that the comfort of individuals and of commu-
nities in so great a measure depends on it.

It is scarcely necessary to remind our readers that
in England, since the end of the sixteenth century,
the poor, both those who are so from helplessness, and
those who are so from want of employment, have been
supported by a tax on the more fortunate part of the
community. From a period near the end of the last
century, a special regulation existed, by which wages
to a certain amount were guaranteed to labouring
men; but as this was found to lead to abuses, it was
abolished in 1834. In that year, the general arrange-
ments respecting the poor underwent considerable
changes; but the principle remains unaltered, that
the poor, without the least regard to the circumstances
which have brought about their poverty, are entitled
to be supported out of the fruits of the industry of the
rest; and supported they are accordingly, in mansions
reared throughout the country for the purpose. The
total sum required for the support of the poor in Eng-
land and Wales in 1836, was L.6,413,119, being less by
two and a third millions than was required in 1833,
the last year of the abused system. The expense is
calculated to be at the rate of about six shillings per
annum for each individual in the whole population.
In all the other European states, some provision is
made for the poor; but it is only in the northern and
some of the German states that there is a legal ac-
knowledgment, as in England, of the right of every
person to be rescued from destitution by the public;
in others, namely, Holland, Belgium, France, Portugal,
the Sardinian States, Austria, Greece, and Turkey,
the applicant's legal right does not seem to be so dis-
tinctly acknowledged, though provision is nevertheless
largely, and in some cases amply, made from public
funds for his relief. In Ireland, till very lately, there
was no sort of legal provision for the poor; and in
Scotland, though a legal provision has long existed, it
is on a scale far beneath that of England.

What has brought the subject at this time under our attention, is the recent publication of a pamphlet, bearing particularly upon the management of the poor in Scotland,* but in reality illustrating the whole question in a manner calculated to arrest general attention. The author is Dr W. P. Alison, professor of medicine in the Edinburgh University, and late President of the Edinburgh College of Physicians-a gentleman whose name has not been heard in connection with the agitation of any of the great questions of the day, but who has at length deemed it proper to step out of comparative privacy in a cause which must interest every philanthropic mind. We readily own that, though we have long suspected great errors on this subject, we were never fully aware of them till we perused this admirable emanation of just reasoning and genuine benevolence.

In Scotland, the whole funds raised as a systematic provision for the poor amount to only about L.140,000 per annum, or about 1s. 4d. for every individual in the country, being in proportion less than a fourth of

* Observations on the Management of the Poor in Scotland, and of its Effects on the Health of the Great Towns. By William Pulteney Alison, M. D., F. R.S. E., Professor of the Institutes of Medicine in the University of Edinburgh. Blackwood and Sons.

SATURDAY, APRIL 18, 1840.

what is raised in England. A great part of the funds
arises from collections at the church-doors; for, though
acted on only in about half of the number of parishes,
there is an act empowering the raising of a rate, it is
and there very hesitatingly and inadequately. Prac-
tically, the helpless poor get, in most parishes, some
small weekly pittance, generally about a shilling, often
as low as ninepence, and even sixpence (the allowance
for children being proportionally less); from which
they are expected to support themselves in their own
homes. In many parishes there is absolutely no relief
of any kind, and in none is the claim of persons pos-
sessing health and strength admitted, however desti-
tute they may be from circumstances. There are work-
houses only at two places, and there the average an-
nual sum expended on the support of paupers is about
L.6. The smallness of all these provisions is not to be
rashly attributed to want of feeling on the part of the
nation. There is in Scotland a strong prejudice against
all but self-dependent modes of existence. It is a ge-
neral opinion that all succour held out to any but
the helpless poor, is productive of evil instead of good,
even to the poor themselves. This succour is thought
to be particularly detrimental, when it is the result of
a fixed assessment or rate, for then it is supposed that
the poor are led more particularly to depend on the
smallness of the sums given to the helpless can only
public charity instead of their own exertions. The
be attributed to this general prejudice against pauper
relief, for it may be presumed, that, if there were an-
other feeling in the case, the ordinary slender funds
would be augmented by a sufficient assessment. What
proves very strikingly, that opinion, and not want of
benevolent feeling, is the main cause of the small pro-
vision, is, that the poor have as great a disinclination
to ask public charity as the wealthier classes to give
it. This is, in the rural parishes particularly, always
a last resource, and one which is never resorted to
without a pang of the severest kind. A wish to keep
up a spirit of independence in the humbler classes, is
perhaps one of the main sources of that anxiety which
is always manifested by the wealthy to restrict by all
possible means the amount of the funds devoted to
the relief of the poor.

The object of Dr Alison's pamphlet is to prove that
this system of restriction is attended by evils which
ought to make it a subject of shame rather than pride
to the community. He contends that, in large towns
more especially, it is productive of wide scenes of
misery, shocking to all benevolent feeling, and posi-
tively dangerous in some respects to the rest of the
inhabitants. He shows that in Edinburgh, Glasgow,
Dublin, and other large cities, where there is no
thorough system of relief for the poor, fever has been
of late years prevalent to a degree quite unknown in
any English town; a fact which must in the main be
ascribed to the wretched condition of great hordes of
people gathered in the meaner parts of those towns.
Will it be believed that, in two late years, one-six-
teenth of the population of Edinburgh, and one-sixth of
the population of Glasgow, were affected by dangerous
fevers? The average number of cases treated in the
hospitals of Glasgow during the last seven years, has
been 1842, while in Leeds, where the inhabitants are
a little more than a half, the average for the same
period has been 274; and in Newcastle and Gates-
head, where the inhabitants are about a fourth, only
39; there being in Bath, during the same period, "only
a few cases." It is true, that want of cleanliness, bad
ventilation, and so forth, are among the causes of
fever; but Dr Alison contends, and apparently with
success, that destitution is the main and primary
cause. He also shows that, as fever is more apt to

PRICE THREE HALFPENCE.

carry off the adult than the young, it burdens the them the children of persons who, if spared, would have public with immense numbers of orphans, many of kept them above public charity. Thus, so far, the restrictive system seems to spread, instead of limiting, the evil of pauperism. When a fatal epidemic breaks out in one of the towns in question, subscriptions are generally raised by the wealthy classes to succour the viated in some, but only in a slight degree. The vicsuffering poor; and the evil is thereby perhaps alletims of the pestilence have been prepared for it by years of unrelieved suffering, and that generosity which once might have prevented disease, is now unable to arrest its calamitous progress.

The popular doctrine in Scotland is that advanced by some political economists, that systematic relief for the poor leads to habits of improvidence, and encourages marriages amongst persons unable to support their offspring, thus tending to increase, instead of diminishing, pauperism. Dr Alison, on the contrary, maintains that "poor-laws, such as exist in England, do not interfere with moral restraint, but support and strengthen it; and that moral restraint is nowhere so feeble, and population (in a long-inhabited country) nowhere makes such rapid progress, as where there is no legal provision for the destitute, and where therefore the prospect of destitution is always, clear, obvious, and immediate." He appeals in the has been generally enforced for 250 years, and in some first place to experience. "In England a poor-rate at least fifty years. We know that the population of respects been carried to an injudicious height during a country may be doubled in twenty years. There has therefore been abundance of time for the English poor-laws, if they really afford the 'direct, constant, and systematic encouragement to marriage' which has been supposed, to cause such an increase of the population there, and such an amount not only of pauperism, but of misery, consequent on redundant popuof the theory. But how stands the fact? * lation, as would have put beyond all doubt the truth We find that the population of England has kept strictly within her proper limits, while that of Ireland has so completely outrun them, that famines in Ireland are of nearly periodical recurrence, the lives of the people are continually shortened by cold and hunger, and the overflow of her population has pauperised both England and Scotland, besides extending to America." England (in the opinion of Mr Senior) stands in the most favourable position of all the countries of Europe with regard to wages. The average while that of Ireland is L.5, 8s. The proportion of annual expenditure of her labouring families is L.33, is small. The number of paupers is as one in ten, the annual births to the whole population in England while in Ireland there are 2,300,000 people who are wholly or partially mendicants, out of an entire population of about seven millions. The difference is here too great, Dr Alison justly remarks, to allow of a supposition that the pauperism of Ireland is attributable solely to circumstances independent of pauper relief.

"It is true," he remarks, "that the lower Irish are a rude and imperfectly civilised people, but they are not so illiterate as many of the English poor, in whom the principle of moral restraint is much more powerful; and the law of nature, by which the improvidence of parents leads to the destitution of children, the humblest capacity. Even if the advocates of the is, as Mr Malthus himself observes, intelligible to theory resort to the extravagant supposition that there is something in the Irish character specifically different from all others in this respect, and making them reckless and improvident where others would be pru

98

dent, this will not avail them, for any one who chooses to make the observation will see, that among the educated poor of Scotland the same union of reckless improvidence with extreme destitution, is uniformly found; and we shall see afterwards that the same holds of other countries.

The truth is, that below a certain grade of poverty, the preventive check of moral restraint has no power. Twenty-five years of observation of the habits of the poor have shown me, that there are none among whom population makes so rapid progress as those who see continually around them examples of utter destitution and misery. In such circumstances, men hardly look forward to the future more than animals. It is easy for us to say, that by cutting off from a poor family any prospect of relief, in case of destitution, we can make them careful and prudent. The practical result is widely different. Another alternative is uniformly embraced. They lower their habits; and those who have not been accustomed to observe them, are not aware how much reduction of comfort the family of a labouring man, disabled or deprived of employment, may undergo, and not only life be preserved, but the capacity for occasional irregular and precarious employment continue. Their better clothes may be pawned, their furniture and bed-clothes may be sold, they can lie on straw or shavings of wood, sometimes

on

bare boards,' and never undress; two or more families may be crowded into a single room, and struggle to pay the rent among them. Such associations of lone women,' who have only occasional employment, and of unemployed and disabled men, widows and orphans, are continually formed. They gather cinders on the streets late at night and early in the morning, they beg for bread, wherever they are permitted, among the rich, and if repelled from them, they seek for sympathy among the poor. Three meals in the week will support life for many weeks. I have known instances, where I had satisfactory moral evidence that the mothers of such families have submitted, for the sake of their children, to such privations for months together. If they fall sick, as after a time they infallibly do, the medical charities come to their relief. Thus, almost without visible means of subsistence, many of the poorest families in this and other great towns manage to pass the winter, while in summer they find precarious and desultory employment in fields and gardens. Now, if you mark the conduct of people who have fallen thus low, or watch the future progress of children brought up in this state of misery and degradation, you look in vain for the principle of moral restraint, or for indications of prudential motives, counteracting the natural tendency of human passions. Many of the children die miserably in early youth, and those who survive are uniformly reckless and improvident. The daughters of families thus circumstanced receive no education which fits them even for service; they are almost uniformly mothers at the age of twenty, and the progress of population is thus rendered most rapid in that portion of society which lies nearest the verge of absolute starvation.

abled by injury or disease, and unable to provide for
his family. If this happens in Ireland, his widow or
family has no resource but in vagrancy and casual
charity; and in Scotland, the legal relief granted is
often a mere pittance: the children are brought up in
misery, they cannot possibly acquire any artificial
wants, or look forward to the enjoyment of any com-
forts, and all experience (if on so large a scale as to be
freed from accidental fallacies) teaches, that in these
circumstances there is no moral or prudential check
on their increase. But in England they fall under the
protection of the law; they are fixed to their parishes,
and brought up under the eye of persons more or less
interested in their welfare; their habits are prevented
from degenerating; they grow up under the influ-
ence of artificial wants, and would feel themselves
degraded if they were voluntarily to part with such
of the comforts of life as they have hitherto enjoyed,
and descend to the filth and penury of the Irish
cabin. They live on wheaten bread, as Mr Malthus
himself tells us, and are practically content to remain
in smaller numbers than they might have been, had
they been satisfied with coarser fare. Experience
proves that their numbers do not become redundant,
and that their standard of comfort in after-life does
not degenerate from that of their fathers.

finally recommends the required changes in the Scottish poor-laws, the most important of which is an uniform assessment sufficient to give relief to the whole of the poor, not only those who are sick or impotent, but those who from any cause are destitute, and this relief to be of sufficient amount, instead of being, as at present, a kind of mockery of the wants to which it professes to be applied. We greatly regret that we are unable to transfer any of the excellent arguments brought forward by Dr Alison against the common but short-sighted doctrine as to moral or other merits being necessary on the part of poor ap plicants to constitute a claim for relief. His views on this subject exactly meet those which we have oftener than once advocated in this journal. There are few things which have more forcibly impressed us throughout life than the unreasonableness of expecting all kinds of virtues from human beings when they are unfortunate, and only then.

We conclude with an earnest hope that the excellent purpose which this pamphlet has directly in view will not be disappointed, but that the attention which it has already excited in the more thinking circles of our two largest cities will be felt ere long over the whole country, and that, all existing prejudices being undermined, it will be the means of introducing a system of poor-relief more agreeable to our pretensions as a Christian community.

THE MULETEER.

A STORY OF RECENT OCCURRENCE IN SPAIN.*

That the artificial wants, which nature never fails to awaken in the minds of all young persons who are brought up in tolerable comfort, are in reality an infinitely more effectual check on early marriages and excessive population, than the mere prospect of want of food is in the minds of persons brought up in utter ONE evening in the autumn of the year 183–, Ciriaco destitution, must, I think, appear obvious to any one who reflects on the difference in this respect between Martinez, the muleteer or carrier who passed regularly the higher and lower ranks of society in all countries. between Madrid and Alicant, was seated at the gate How many men are there, in the different ranks which of a hostelry near the western outport of the last intervene between the lowest and the highest, who purposely defer the period of marriage until they shall mentioned city. Ciriaco was almost ready to set out on his stated journey, one of a rather momentous cha be able, not merely to maintain a family, but to maintain it on that precise level on which they are racter in the existing state of the country, and he was themselves moving, and who die childless before they now enjoying himself for the last time with a few of can accomplish their design! How many women of his intimates, who were seated around him, smoking, these ranks pass their lives in single blessedness, not because they are afraid of starvation for themselves and drinking from a leathern or goatskin bottle, alor their offspring, but because taste, or vanity, or ready somewhat flaccid with passing from hand to sundry other considerations, forbid their forming hand. Ciriaco was in high and jovial spirits, but he unions with men whom they consider their inferiors! still had an eye to business. Taking a long pull at the How many motives of filial affection, of duty, of self-skin, he exclaimed, "Hollo! uncle Melchor! master respect, of hope, of pride, of avarice, of ambition, landlord! hang me if I shall put up any more at this combine to determine the question of marriage, or celibacy, in the ranks of which we now speak! These hostelry of yours. Your wine is as sour as vinegar, ranks, in reality, never become redundant; many die and your Babieca up there, your sign of the Cid's without offspring, but few of them descend into the horse, brings me no good luck. Here have I two of lowest rank, and none have their lives shortened by mere privations. The lower in society that these my mules yet without their load; neither passenger nor burden have I got to go upon them. Hollo!" complex motives operate, the more effectual is the preventive check. That some of them are in full continued he, addressing the casual passers by," who operation in the English paupers, and restrain their will go to Madrid? It shall never be said that Ciriaco increase, the facts already stated sufficiently prove; Martinez went with an idle mule from Alicant. Who but which of them finds place in the Irish cabin?" will go to Pavia, Monfort, Monover, Vecla, or Albacete? Come forward; you will find me accommodating."

On the other hand, when men are preserved from this state of hopeless and abject destitution, they all (or with few and trifling exceptions) gradually fall, more or less, under the dominion of artificial wants, and form to themselves a standard of comfort, from which they will never willingly descend, and to maintain which they will keep themselves under a degree of restraint unknown to those of the poor, who are continually struggling to obtain the first necessaries of life. Such observations have been very frequently made on a small scale by many others as well as my-suffering, but to prevent degradation, and so to support self, and they seem to me amply to confirm and easily to explain the result of the grand experiment in which last two centuries. Indeed, the simple fact, already Ireland and England have been engaged during the mentioned, of the habitual cleanliness of most of the English poor, even in the most pauperised counties, as compared with those either of Ireland or Scotland, is of itself sufficient to show where the preventive check is in fullest operation."

These views are striking, and they are supported by the experience of other countries. In the Azores, where there are no laws for granting succour to the poor, unless they be sick, "poverty does not appear," we learn from authentic evidence, "to check matrimony in general, the poor people marry at an early age." The same, we find, is the case in Sardinia, one of the countries where there is no adequate legal provision for the poor. The swarms of Neapolitan lazzaroni need only be alluded to. On the other hand, in Denmark, Holland, and Prussia, where the provision for the poor is ample, there is comparatively much prudence with regard to contracting marriage. Again, the English peasantry eat wheaten bread, and maintain a generally high standard of comfort-a circumstance quite incompatible with the theory of a debasement or a redundancy of population by means of the poor-laws; whereas the Scotch are content with plainer fare, and the Irish live on the humblest of all esculent substances.

"The whole secret of the preventive check," says Dr Alison, "appears to me to consist in the growth and support of artificial wants among the poor. Now, in order to understand how these are fostered by the practical application of the poor-laws, it is necessary to look chiefly to their effect on the rising generation. Take the common case of a labourer dying in middle life, and leaving a family of young children; or dis

The latter part of this address of the jolly muleteer did not pass unnoticed. A stranger stept forward, and said to Ciriaco, "When do you expect to arrive in Madrid?" "In nine days," replied the muleteer; "that is to say, friend, I am bound by my engagement to deliver my goods at that time in Madrid. But, to tell you the truth, I always make a little reservation, and say, to myself at least, if time and tide permit.'

Perhaps your goods would be inconvenient to a traveller, if he were to engage one of your mules," said the stranger; "are you heavily loaded? What kind of merchandise have you?" The muleteer pointed know what sort of stuff I am to carry, but if you are to a shed behind him, where his packages were lying under cover, and exclaimed, "For my part, I don't curious to know, you may look at these bales and packs. There is something written upon them, but I only know whither they are to go. That is my part of the business; and, besides, the fact is, that my eyes are too weak to read handwriting." The light-hearted muleteer winked as he said this to his companions, who immediately set up a loud laugh, knowing that poer Ciriaco, like themselves probably, was no great scholar. Meanwhile, the stranger went forward to the packs, on a number of which were written, in pretty large letters, the words, Vasos de Plata y Pala cra Sacadens de hierro y otros.

After some quotations from another author, showing that, in the interval between the Reformation and the commencement of the poor-law, the peasantry of England were nearly in the same condition as those of Ireland, with respect to mendicancy, misery, and agrarian disturbances, Dr Alison continues: "I assert, then, with confidence, that all experience teaches, not only that unrelieved suffering is quite ineffectual to teach prudence or moral restraint to the poor, but that it has uniformly the very opposite effect; and, on the other hand, that the natural effect of well-timed and well-directed public charity is not only to relieve and strengthen the only check on excessive population which either policy or humanity will allow us to conmaintaining or bettering their condition, which really template. It is not the fear of lowering, but the hope of constitutes that preventive check, and that hope is continually maintained among the poor, by the certainty of assistance in distress, in circumstances where it would otherwise have been extinguished in despair. The English poor have become cautious, just as they have become cleanly, not in consequence of positive laws or direct exhortations, but by the silent operation of those feelings of human nature which always raise the standard of comfort among those who are steadily preserved from the degradation of hopeless poverty.' Dr Alison meets successfully a number of minor objections which have been taken to poor-laws, as that they diminish voluntary benevolence, that they rank up the rich and poor in hostility against each other, and that they have an injurious effect on the application of capital and the wages of labour. We are not able to follow him through these reasonings, but cannot resist adverting to one triumphant fact on the first point-that, during the famine in the west of Ireland in 1822, L.100,000 was subscribed for its relief in rate-oppressed England, while the land-pro- After the stranger had looked attentively at the prietors of one of the Irish counties where the distress bales, he said to Ciriaco, "When do you set out for was experienced, could only raise one hundred! Our Madrid ?" "To-morrow evening," was the reply. author also enters into arguments to prove the direct" Very well," said the stranger; "I do not know yet, practical advantages of legal provision, namely, its being whether it will be convenient for me to go with you much more effectual for the permanent relief of misery or not, but I hope you will have company by the way in the lower orders, and much more just towards the in any case." higher orders; its acting much more uniformly, its amount being much more easily adapted to the real wants of the poor, and its kind being in cach case more properly suited to their character and circumstances; and its securing an interest in the concerns of the poor throughout the whole community. He

The meaning of this superscription, though somewhat obscured by the mode of putting it down, might readily have been made out to be, "Vessels of silver and virgin gold, with fancy-work of iron, and other articles."

*The above story is a version, without any alteration in the important points, of one which appeared in the Spanish journals within these few years. The facts of the narrative, for the rea der must understand that the whole story is true, came out on the trial of the partics concerned, before the criminal courts of Alicant.

On the evening of the following day, according to purpose, Ciriaco had his mules at the gate of the hostelry of Babieca, ready to depart. A young and highspirited horse, the long grey tail of which swept the ground, stood saddled and bridled beside them, being a favourite animal, which Ciriaco preferred to ride while guiding his string of mules on their way. At its saddle-bow hung a goodly flask, wherewith its master might charm away the toils and weariness of the journey. With a horn slung round his shoulders, and a pistol or two at his belt, Ciriaco himself appeared, mounted his horse, bade a cheerful adieu to his host Melchor, and moved away slowly with his mules, chanting the while the old romance that tells the loves of Almanzor and the fair Zoraide. For a short time the bells of his mules were heard tinkling in unison, but soon Ciriaco and his charge were both out of sight and of sound.

Towards the middle of that same night, the people of the hostelry of Babieca were roused from their quiet slumbers by a violent knocking at the outer gate. The sound was so loud, and so remarkable in its character, that every individual of the household was speedily on foot, under the impression that the gate would be knocked to pieces. On going to it, and opening it, their amazement was great to behold a riderless horse striking the door violently with its hoofs. Their surprise was still greater when they discovered it to be the horse of Ciriaco Martinez. The first thought which struck all, was, that Ciriaco had fallen asleep, and had been thrown to the ground by some false step of the animal. They opened the gate wide for the horse to enter. But although it came forward so far as to show that it was covered with foam and streaks of blood, it did not pass into its stable. Wheeling around before they could seize it, the horse set off at full speed in the direction whence it had come. The creature was wild and excited, and

At the same time, the bales were left untouched, and
carefully locked up.

Putting faith in the statement of Juan de la Rosa,
rather than in the suspicions of the mob, the magis-
trates of Caracuel did not neglect to send a messenger
to Alicant, to inquire respecting Ciriaco Martinez.
The answer was immediate and startling-"Ciriaco
Martinez is murdered." The messenger also brought
an order for the transmission of the stranger, who
called himself Don Manuel de Basabru of Catalonia,
to Alicant. This order was immediately obeyed, his
guilt seeming beyond all doubt.

At Alicant, Don Manuel de Basabru was soon brought to trial. Besides the identification of Ciriaco's mules, and other criminatory circumstances, one man came forward in evidence, who had actually seen the murder. This witness was Juan Pacheco, a peasant of Monfort, the village adjoining the spot where Ciriaco was found. Juan de Pacheco deposed as follows:

"At the end of last month, our Barille plants were approaching maturity; and as the foxes are so fond of some parts of these plants that they sometimes destroy whole plantations in a night, it is necessary to watch them, and all the neighbours take the watch by turns. On the night on which it was my turn to watch, I lay down among some tufts of rosemary, in such a position that I could see, with the help of the moon, a large extent of country, without being myself perceived. I had not lain long, till I saw, very near me, a man whom I did not know, but who resembled the prisoner in form and stature. He was armed with a fusil, like myself, and it was my belief that he was one who had come out, like myself, to watch the foxes. In this impression I was confirmed when I saw him squat down behind some broom-bushes not far from me, and I was less heedful than I might have been in keeping myself awake. In short, sleep came the blood which had been seen on its sides led the over me, and I know not how long I continued under landlord Melchor to the sad conclusion that some its influence. The sound of mule-bells awoke me, and serious evil had befallen the merry-hearted Ciriaco. the report of a gun followed immediately after. I With the first dawn of morning, Melchor was out raised my head, and distinctly beheld on the road, with two companions on the road which Ciriaco had which ran close by the spot, a string of loaded mules, followed in his journey. After travelling some leagues, near which lay a man upon the ground, with another they observed one part of the road to be peculiarly-the person I had before seen-standing over him, marked and trampled. They also saw footsteps lead- and apparently robbing his person." ing aside from the place, and, pursuing them, they reached the middle of a piece of untilled ground. There, under a rudely and hastily piled heap of stones and furze, they discovered the corpse of the unfortunate Ciriaco Martinez. He had received a shot through the body, and his head, besides, was horribly mutilated. Melchor immediately went and alarmed the people of the two neighbouring villages of Monfort and Monover, and a hasty pursuit was commenced in all directions. Judging by the tracks of the missing mules, it was believed that the robbers and murderers had not continued the route to Madrid, but had taken some other course. Other travellers had been on the road, however, and this point was not easily determined. It is possible that the pursuit was not carried far enough; but however this may have been, certain it is, that the authors of poor Ciriaco's murder were not discovered by Melchor and

his assistants.

Two or three days after this event, Juan de la Rosa, carrier between Madrid and Cadiz, chanced to be at the village of Caracuel, near Ciudad Real, where the news of the murder had not yet arrived. Juan de la Rosa was accustomed to lodge at the same inn in Madrid with Ciriaco Martinez, and knew him intimately. Great, therefore, was the amazement of Juan to see in the village of Caracuel the mules of his friend under the charge and in the possession of a stranger. He was sure about the mules, and in particular one of them, for he himself had long possessed the animal, and had only sold it to Ciriaco about two months previously. Of the identity of this mule he was perfectly certain. Taking an opportunity to ask the new owner how long he had possessed the mules, Juan received for reply that the other had owned them more than a year. This answer rendered Juan assured that something was amiss, and he informed a magistrate of his suspicions. This functionary went to the inn to examine the stranger, and look at his bales. On being asked to whom the bales belonged, the stranger first said that they belonged to himself, and then, on its being hinted as very unlikely that he should be possessed of what seemed to be valuable treasure, he stated that the bales had only been entrusted to him to be conveyed from Jaer to Bedajaz. These contradictions, and the suspicions of Juan de la Rosa, would perhaps have been insufficient to justify the detention of the man, but circumstances occurred which soon removed this difficulty. A crowd had assembled about the inn of Caracuel, where the magistrate had gone to examine the stranger, and some persons had noticed "Vasos de P.lata," &c. on the bales. One individual, more sharp-sighted than his neighbours, immediately suggested that the owner of the mules might be an emissary of Gomez, the lieutenant of Don Carlos, and that he was doubtless conveying treasure to some place or other, to serve the lieutenant's treasonable purposes. As, in the hurried shiftings of the Spanish civil war, treasure had often been buried for a time, and afterwards lifted, the opinion of the individual mentioned at once found believing auditors. "He is an emissary of Gomez," cried the mob, and the magistrate was compelled by their clamours to take the stranger into custody.

Here the witness was interrupted by his examinators, who asked him why he did not run to the succour of the fallen man. The witness answered that "he was afraid of bringing danger upon himself," and was allowed to continue his narrative.

confounded look of the accused, and the confession which his question conveyed. "The P. is an abbreviation of Pulita, meaning fine, polished white iron."

The prisoner stared still more wildly, but, heedless of the consequences, he proceeded to satisfy himself. "But the pala era, the native gold?" said he. "Oh," replied the merchant, "the words have been disjoined by my stupid apprentice boy in writing the superscription. The last words are pala crasa, cadenas de hierro y otros; meaning altogether, 'coarse shovels, chains of iron, and other articles."

The confounded prisoner, who, by thus misinterpreting the superscription, had been led to take away a human life, in the hope of acquiring valuable treasures, had nothing further to say for himself. The bales were opened in court, and he there saw the paltry utensils for which he had plunged into deadly crime. Though scarcely required, their testimony was conclusive against him. He was condemned to death.

The priest who attended him in prison, and on the scaffold, endeavoured to induce him to invoke the mercy of heaven. But he was never heard to utter a sentence excepting one, and that he repeated several times. "White iron !-it was but white iron! With the demon's money I killed him, and I have sold myself for the demon's money!"

THE SALMON.

DETERMINATION OF THE QUESTION RESPECTING ITS
FRY.

THE history of the salmon in the earlier stages of its
existence has hitherto, as is well known, been involved
in great obscurity, although the elucidation of it was
desirable not only for the satisfaction of men of science,
but for the protection of the fish itself, as a valuable
article of commerce. The subject has at length been
cleared up, and in a way and under circumstances
which, in our estimation, give its elucidation additional

interest.

this good service is Mr John Shaw, resident at DrumThe individual to whom the public is indebted for lanrig in Dumfriesshire, and who holds, we believe, the situation of head game-keeper to the Duke of Buccleuch, on his grace's estates in that county. commenced some years ago a series of experiments for Directed solely by his own intelligence, Mr Shaw determining the early history of the salmon. He in the first place constructed three ponds on the bank of the Nith, one of them, which we shall call No. 1, being "The man upon the ground struggled, and I heard (No. 2), twenty-two feet long and of the same breadth, twenty-five feet long and eighteen broad, another him cry to the other, 'Wretch! you will pay for this! and a third (No. 3), fifty feet long and thirty in to which the robber answered, Yes, with the demon's breadth. A rill of spring water, descending from the money; and as he spoke, he threw a large stone for neighbouring hill side, and abounding with larvæ and cibly upon the head of the prostrate man, which ap- insects fit to be food for fishes, was parted into two peared to kill him.* The assassin then threw the streams, one of which fell into pond No. 3, while the body over the back of a horse standing by, and took other ran into No. 1, and thence passed on through a it into the middle of the adjoining field. On return-grated aperture into No. 2; the waste water from both ing to the road, the murderer tried to mount the horse, being allowed to fall out through closely wired aper but it escaped his grasp and galloped off. He followed tures, and find its way to the Nith. The arrange it for some distance, and then returned to the mules, ments were such as to make it impossible that there one of which he mounted, and then went off hastily could be any communication between the river and with the whole. These circumstances (said the witness the ponds, the bottoms of which were thickly bedded in conclusion) I related to others on hearing of the with gravel. murder of Ciriaco Martinez."

6

When these and other circumstances had been brought out, Don Manuel de Basabru still stoutly denied all participation in the murder of Ciriaco. Regarding the bales of goods, he returned to his first assertion that they were his own property. The judges confronted him with the merchant from whom Ciriaco had received them in charge, yet Don Manuel, as he called himself, persisted in his daring denial.

"Then what do these bales contain?" said the judge, pointing to them; it is visible that they have never been opened since first packed up, but you can inform us what they contain?"

"That is not difficult to tell, indeed," replied the prisoner boldly. "Any one who can read may tell their contents from the superscription which I put upon them, Vasos de plata y pala cra, sacadenarios de hierro y otros." (Vessels of silver and virgin gold, fancy articles of iron, and others.)

The merchant who claimed the property, when he heard Don Manuel make this interpretation of the superscription, was seized with a fit of laughter, so violent that neither the seriousness of the case, nor the gravity of the court, could check him. "Ah!" cried he, when he had partly recovered his composure, should kill myself with laughing at this, had that poor Ciriaco Martinez but been alive." Then turning to the prisoner, he exclaimed, " Vessels of silver, indeed! say rather vessels of white iron: casos de lata, white

iron."

66 I

The accused stared. "But the P.; the words are vasos de Plata ?"

The merchant could not help laughing again at the kingdom of Valentia, and had its origin in the following tradi* The "demon's (or devil's) money" is a phrase common in the tionary story:-Two Moors, of the tribe of the Almoravides, were renowned in the eleventh century for their intimacy, and for their joint pursuit of the occult sciences. They were avaricious, and finally acquired so much power over the Evil Spirit, that he gave them as much gold as they desired, but only on conone killed the other, and fled towards Africa with the chests of dition that they retained their mutual friendship. However, the gold which he had so won. But the fiend made holes in the chests, and the money dropt out. The coins grew into stones of They are common on the Valentian roads, and are yet called the various sizes, which retained something of their circular shape. Demon's Money.

female salmon in the Nith, while they were engaged In January 1837, Mr Shaw caught a male and in spawning; and having pressed a quantity of roe or the male, he deposited the ova, thus prepared, in one ova from the female, which he mixed with milt from of the ponds. Fifty days after, namely, on the 23d of February, he "found the embryo fish distinctly visible to the naked eye, and even exhibiting some signs of of April, they were excluded from the egg, when they vitality by feebly moving in the egg." On the 28th measured about five-eighths or nearly half an inch in length, and had a small red transparent bag, like a bodies. The temperature of the stream, at first 39°, currant, depending from the anterior part of their ture was favourable to the developement of the young was latterly 44°. To ascertain if a higher temperafry, Mr Shaw, on the 20th of April, placed some of the ova in a tumbler in his bedroom, allowing a stream of fresh water to fall into and out of it; and the result was, that in thirty-six hours the fish in this situation were disengaged from the ova, while the others, as An accidental irruption of mud destroyed the fish already mentioned, did not appear till seven days later. produced in the pond about a month after their birth.

the 27th of January, and placed in pond No. 1, became Some ova, prepared in exactly the same manner on fish on the 7th of May. Of this family, Mr Shaw had drawings made at ten days, forty-eight days, two months, four months, and six months old, which are to be found in Jameson's Edinburgh New Philosophical Journal for January 1838. They show the creature are scarcely to be discerned, up to the condition of the in its growth from a shape in which the fish lineaments and parr of the same size taken from the Nith, no parr of our rivers. Between the family in the pond, difference could be discerned, excepting in depth of colour, the pond family being lighter, probably from the comparative purity of the water in which they were produced and reared. This difference, it may observe in trout of various streams, the depth of colour be remarked, is one which anglers are accustomed to being in every case determined by the comparative clearness of the waters. On this point Mr Shaw made a curious observation, which we shall give in his own words:" In the course of my visits to the experi

« ZurückWeiter »