Kitabı oku: «The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 17, No. 475, February 5, 1831», sayfa 3

Various

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I rallied: my feelings were unmanly. The moon had risen in unclouded brilliancy, gleaming on the heaving and rippled surface of the dark blue main; I looked up to the tranquil firmament, and the reflection was bitter. Pealing along with the voice of the ocean, the wild and lofty strains from the singular figure aloft, like a gentle brook commingling its waters with a vast and rapid river—failed not during this time to keep up my excitement. The sea was now fast covering the shingles; one chance was yet before me, which the instant I reflected on, I hesitated not to put into execution. It could at worst be only exchanging one death for another, and death would have been a boon indeed, rather than the longer endurance of that deeply agonizing state of suspense. I can fancy my faithful dog, by his actions, had anticipated this resolution: his joyful bark as I sprung forward into the waves, still rings in my ear. He was a dog of prodigious size and strength: holding by his shaggy neck with one hand, I assisted myself in swimming along by him with the other, intending after clearing the mouth of the cove, to make for the opening in the rocks to landward. I felt invigorated with new life, though the chances against me were still precarious, on account of the distance, as we went through the plashing waves with the broad expanse of ocean again before me. The sea was now tolerably calm along shore, for the tide was far advanced, and I had hardly swam twenty yards from the mouth of the cove when a Landwithiel fishing-boat came in sight almost within hail. An involuntary prayer came to my lips; I sung out with all the energy which the hope of life could produce; she was alongside in a trice, and in a few minutes I was sailing for Landwithiel Pier, merrily, at the rate of eight knots an hour. I found on detailing my adventure, which greatly surprised the fine fellows who picked me up, that the cove was called Dawlish's Hole; and that the apparition of the white lady on the rocks was one of flesh and blood, not an airy vision.

"Poor Ellen Dawlish," said Sam Clovelly, my informant, "once the pride of the parish—poor thing! her day has long since gone by; she is always worse when the moon's full; but it's a long yarn, sir, and you'll learn all about her and the wild skipper, as we used to call him, (that's her husband) far better up at the "Ship-Aground" yonder, than I can tell you."

The only consequence that resulted from the adventure thus providentially terminated, was a wet jacket; but a brisk fire, a glass of grog, and a warm welcome in my host's capacious settle, helped to banish it from my recollection. My worthy friend, Sam Clovelly, was not mistaken; my interest, which was deeply awakened, received a strong whet from the narrative which Mr. Sheepshanks related, and though wearied with the day's adventure, I did not go to rest till I had heard the conclusion of his somewhat prolix story. I afterwards happened to know more, indeed, of the circumstances alluded to; and though the day's incident was of a frightful nature, yet I look back upon it as the means of introducing me to the knowledge of events connected with the history of the last surviving member of an ancient family, to me of deep interest. I pause: the reader may hear more of the FATE OF WALTER DAWLISH.

VYVYAN.

OLD POETS

MELANCHOLY

Melancholy from the spleen begun,
By passion mov'd into the veins doth run;
Which when this humour as a swelling flood,
By vigour is infused in the blood,
The vital spirits doth mightily appal,
And weakeneth so the parts organical,
And when the senses are disturb'd and tir'd
With what the heart incessantly desir'd,
Like travellers with labour long oppress'd
Finding relief, eftsoons thy fall to rest.

DRAYTON.

LOVE

Sweet are the kisses, the embracements sweet,
When like desires and affections meet;
For from the earth to heaven is Cupid raised
Where fancies are in equal balance peised.

MARLOWE.

O learn to love, the lesson is but plain,
And once made perfect, never lost again.

SHAKSPEARE.

BEAUTY

Such colour had her face as when the sun
Shines in a watery cloud in pleasant spring;
And even as when the summer is begun
The nightingales in boughs do sit and sing,
So the blind god, whose force can no man shun
Sits in her eyes, and thence his darts doth fling;
Bathing his wings in her bright crystal streams,
And sunning them in her rare beauties beams.
In these he heads his golden-headed dart,
In those he cooleth it, and tempereth so,
He levels thence at good Oberto's heart,
And to the head he draws it in his bow.

SIR J. HARRINGTON.

SLANDER

Against bad tongues goodness cannot defend her,
Those be most free from faults they least will spare,
But prate of them whom they have scantly known,
Judging their humors to be like their own.

IBID.

POSTERITY

Daughter of Time, sincere Posterity
Always new born, yet no man knows thy birth,
The arbitress of pure Sincerity,
Yet, changeable, (like Proteus on the earth)
Sometime in plenty, sometime joined with dearth.
Always to come, yet always present here,
Whom all run after, none come after near.

Impartial judge of all save present state
Truth's Idioma of the things are past,
But still pursuing present things with hate,
And more injurious at the first than last,
Preserving others while thine own do waste;
True treasurer of all antiquity,
Whom all desire, yet never one could see.

FITZ JEFFREY.

WAR

The poets old in their fond fables feign,
That mighty Mars is god of war and strife,
The Astronomers think that whereas Mars doth reign,
That all debate and discord must be rife;
Some think Bellona goddess of that life.
Among the rest that painter had some skill,
Which thus in arms did once set out the same:—
A field of gules, and on a golden hill,
A stately town consumed all with flame
On chief of sable taken from the dame,
A sucking babe, oh! born to bide mischance
Begored with blood and pierced with a lance
On high the Helm, I bear it well in mind,
The wreath was silver, powdered all with shot,
About the which, goutte du sang, did twine
A roll of sable black, and foul be blot
The crest two hands which may not be forgot,
For in the right a trenchant blade did stand,
And in the left a fiery, burning brand.

GASCOIGNE.

MANNERS & CUSTOMS OF ALL NATIONS

CUSTOM OF BULL-BAITING AT GREAT GRIMSBY

The amusement of bull-baiting is of such high antiquity in this country, that Fitz-Stephen, who lived in the reign of Henry II., tells us it was, at that early period, the common entertainment of the young Londoners during the winter season; and Claudian says of the English mastiffs—

"Magnaque taurorum fracturi colla Britanni."

The county of Lincoln is eulogized by Fuller as producing superior dogs for the sport; and in Grimsby bull-baiting was pursued with such avidity, that, to increase its importance, and prevent the possibility of its falling into disuse, it was made the subject of an official regulation of the magistracy. It had been practised within the borough from time immemorial, but about the beginning of the reign of Henry VII., the butchers finding it both troublesome and inconvenient to provide animals for the public amusement, endeavoured to evade the requisition; but it was made imperative upon them by the following edict of the mayor and burgesses, which was incorporated into a code of ordinances that were made and agreed to on the 23rd of October, 1499, for the better government of the borough:

"Also, that no Bocher flee or kill no Bull flesche wtin this Burgh, nor that none be brought to sell bot if the Bull be bayted openlye before the Mair and his burgesses, peon of forfeitr. of ev'y default vjs. viijd. Also that the Bochers of this Francheis, and al others that kepe slaughter shopes and kill flesche in this Francheis, to sell, mak onys yerly befor the Mair and his burgesses one bull-bayting, at convenient Tyme of the yere, according to the custom of this Francheis befor usyd, upon peyn of fortur of vjs. viijd."

In the reign of Charles I. an instance occurs of the violation of this ordinance; and it is formally recorded in the mayor's court book, that a fine was imposed by the chamberlains on Robert Camm for "killing a bull, and not first baiting him, according to the custom of the corporation."

These sports were conducted with great cruelty. To make the animal furious, gunpowder was frequently flashed up his nose, and pepper blown into his nostrils; and if this failed to make him show game, his flesh was lacerated, and aquafortis poured into the wound. About sixty years ago a bull was put to the stake at Grimsby; but the animal proving too tame, one William Hall put a spike or brad into his stick, and goaded the poor creature until the blood flowed copiously from several parts of his body; and at length, by continually irritating the lacerated parts, the bull became enraged, and roaring in the extremity of his torture, succeeded in tossing his assailant, to the infinite gratification of his cruel persecutors. It is recorded, to the credit of Mr. Alderman Hesleden, that during his mayoralty, in 1779, the annual exhibition was disallowed: from which time the custom declined, although some instances of this inhuman pastime have subsequently occurred.

Strutt says, that in some of the market towns of England, the bull-rings to which the unfortunate animals were fastened are remaining to the present time. At Grimsby, the arena where this brutal ceremony was performed, is still distinguished by the name of the "Bull-ring." The ancient stone and ring were removed about thirty years since; but the chain is still in possession of the chamberlains, who pass it annually to their successors; and it is sometimes applied to the purpose of fastening up a gate, when a distress is made on a field belonging to the corporation for rent; but its primitive use is wholly superseded by the abolition of the amusement.