Part 2

Holy Thursday at Coyohuacan--Hernan Cortes--His Last Wishes--_Padres Camilas_-Old Church--Procession--Representation of the Taking of Christ-- Curate's Sermon under the Trees--A Religious Drama--Good Friday--Portable Pulpit--Heat--Booths--Religious Procession--Simon the Cyrenian--Costumes-- Curate's Sermon--Second Discourse--Sentence Pronounced by Pontius Pilate-- Descent from the Cross--Procession of the Angels--Funeral Hymn--The _Pesame_ to the Virgin--Sermon--"Sweet Kitty Clover"--Music in Mexico-- Anecdote

LETTER THE FORTIETH

Balloon--San Bartolo--Indian Women--A Beauty--Different Castes--Indians-- Their Character, etc.--Those of Noble Race--Ball at the French Minister's --_Abecilla_--Danger of Walking Unattended--Shooting Party--A Murder-- Robbery of a Farmhouse--Discomfited Robber Captain--The "_Zambos_"-- Letters and Visitors--Country Life in Mexico

LETTER THE FORTY-FIRST

Gambling--Fête at San Agustin--Breakfast at San Antonio--Report--Cock- fight--Ladies--Private Gambling--A _Vaca_--The _Calvario_--Bonnets-- Dinner--Evening Ball--Mingling of Classes--Copper Tables--Dresses and Decorations--Indian Bankers, Male and Female--Decorum--Habit--Holders of Banks--Female Gambler--Robbery--Anecdote--Bet--_Casa de Moneda_--Leave San Angel--Celebration--Address--Cross and Diploma--Reply--Presentation of a Sword--Discourses and Addresses--Reflections

LETTER THE FORTY-SECOND

Italian Opera--Artists, Male and Female--Prima Donna--Lucia di Lammermoor --Some Disappointment--Second Representation--Improvement--Romeo and Giulietta--La Ricci--La Señora Cesari--The Mint--False Coining--Repetition of Lucia--Procession by Night--A Spanish Beauty--Discriminating Audience-- A little _too simple_--Gold Embroidery--Santiago--Pilgrims--Old Indian Custom--Soiree--Mexico by Moonlight--Mysterious Figure--Archbishop-- Viceroy

LETTER THE FORTY-THIRD

Revillagigedo--The False Merchant and the Lady--The Viceroy, the Unjust Spaniard, the Indian, and the Golden Ounces--Horrible Murder--Details-- Oath--Country Family--The Spot of Blood--The Mother Unknowingly Denounces her Son--Arrest of the _Three_--Confession--Execution--The Viceroy fulfils his Pledge--Paving of the Streets--Severity to the Monks--Solitary Damsel--Box on the Ear--Pension--Morning Concert--New Minister-"Street of the Sad Indian"--Traditions--A Farewell Audience--Inscription on a Tomb

LETTER THE FORTY-FOURTH

Agitation--Storm--Revolution--Manifesto--Resembling a Game of Chess-- Position of the Pieces--Appearance of the City--Firing--State of Parties-- Comparisons--"_Comicios_"--The People--Congress--Santa Anna--Amnesty Offered--Roaring of Cannon--Proclamation--Time to _Look at Home_--The Will of the Nation--Different Feelings--Judge's House Destroyed--The Mint in Requisition--Preparations--Cannonading--"_Los Enanos_"

LETTER THE FORTY-FIFTH

Leave Mexico--Travelling Equipage--San Xavier--Fine Hacienda-- Millionaires--Well-educated Ladies--Garden, etc.--Tlanapantla--Indian Hut --Mrs. Ward--Doña Margarita--The _Pronunciamiento_--False Step--Santa Anna in Puebla--Neutrality--General Paredes--President in Tlanapantla--Tired Troops--Their March--Their Return--Curate's House--Murder--General Paredes in the Lecheria--President in Tlanapantla--A Meeting--Return of the President and his Troops--General Paredes and his Men--Santa Anna in Tacubaya--A Junction--President in Mexico--_Allied Sovereigns_--Plan-- Articles--President declares for Federalism--Resigns--Results-- Hostilities--Capitulation--Triumphal Entry--_Te Deum_--New Ministry

LETTER THE FORTY-SIXTH

Santa Monica--Solidity--Old Paintings--Anachronism--Babies and Nurses from the Cuna--Society--Funds-Plan--Indian Nurses--Carmelite Convent--Midnight Warning--Old Villages and Churches--Indian Bath--San Mateo--The Lecheria-- Fertility--_Molino Viego_--Dulness--Religious Exercises--Return to Mexico --Mexican Hotel--New Generals--Disturbances--General Bustamante-- Inconvenience--Abuses in the Name of Liberty--Verses--Independence celebrated

LETTER THE FORTY-SEVENTH

Opera--Santa Anna and his Suite--His Appearance--_Belisario_--Solitary "_Viva_!"--Brilliant House--Military Dictatorship--_San_ _Juan de Dios_-- Hospital _de Jesús_--_Cuna_--Old Woman and Baby--Different Apartments-- Acordada--Junta--Female Prisoners--Chief Crime--_Travaux Forces_-- Children--Male Prisoners--_Forçats_--Soldiers Gambling--Chapel-- Confessional--Insane Hospital--Frenchmen--Different Kinds of Insanity-- Kitchen--Dinner--Insane Monk--"Black Chamber"--Soldiers--College--Santa Anna's Leg--Projects--All Saints--Señora P---a--Leave-takings

LETTER THE FORTY-EIGHTH

Leave Mexico--Diligence--Indian Padre--Brandy-drinking Female--Bad Roads-- Beautiful View--Escort--Good Breakfast--Crosses--Robber's Head--Select Party--Lerma--Valley of Toluca--Hacienda--Toluca--Count de B---- and Mr. W------The Commandant--Gay Supper--Colonel Y------Day at Toluca--Journey to _La Gabia_--Heat and Hunger--Pleasant Quarters--Princely Estate--El Pilar--A Zorillo--A Wolf--Long Journey--Tortillas--Count de B------State of Michoacán--Forest Scenery--_Trojes of Angangueo_--Comfort

LETTER THE FORTY-NINTH

Leave _Trojes_--Beautiful Territory--Tarrascan Indians--Taximaroa-- Distressed Condition--An Improvement--Cold Morning--Querendaro--Fine Breed of Horses--San Bartolo--Produce--Country Proprietors--_Colear_--Ride to Morelia--Wild Ducks--Sunset--Cathedral Bell--Cuincho--Curates Morelos, Matamoros, and Hidalgo--Warm Baths--Handsome Girls--Starving Travellers-- Lost Mules--Lancers--Night on a Heap of Straw--Mules Found--Tzintzontzan-- King Calsonsi--Pascuaro--Kind Reception--Bishop--Robbers--Curu--Night in a Barn--Mountain--Uruapa--Enchanting Scenery--Pleasant Family--Jorulla

LETTER THE FIFTIETH

Indian Dresses--Saints--Music--Union of Tropical and European Vegetation-- Old Customs--Falls of the Sararaqui--Silkworms--Indian Painting--Beautiful Heroine--Leave Uruapa--Tziracuaratiro--Talkative Indian--Alcalde's House-- Pascuaro--Old Church--Mosaic Work--The Lake--The Cave--Fried Fish--Rich Indians--Convent--Cuincho--Darkness--Morelia--Alameda--Cathedral--Silver --Waxworks--College--Wonderful Fleas

LETTER THE FIFTY-FIRST

San Bartolo--Mass--Markets--Rancheros--San Andrés--Insanity--Rancho--House of Don Carlos Heimburger--Wild Scenery--German Songs--Las Millas--Leave taking--Storm--Rainbow--El Pilar--La Gabia--Toluca--News--Copper _Pronunciamiento_--Return to Mexico--General Moran--Funeral Obsequies--New Theatre--_Cock's Mass_--Santa Clara--Santa Fe Prisoners--New Year

LETTER THE FIFTY-SECOND

Last Day in Mexico--Theatre--Santa Anna--French Minister's--Parting-- Diligence--Last Look of Mexico--Fatigue--Robbers--Escort--Second Impressions--Baths at Jalapa--Vera Cruz--Some Account of San Juan de Ulua --Siege of 1825--Siege of 1838--General Bustamante--Theatre--Of the North Winds

LETTER THE FIFTY-THIRD

Sail in the Tyrian--Norther off Tampico--The Bar--The River Panuco--The Pilot--The Shore--Alligator--"_Paso de Doña Cecilia_"--Tampico--Spanish Consul's House--Society--Navigation--Banks of the Panuco--Extraordinary Inoculation--The "_Glorieta_"--Leave Tampico--Furious Norther--Voyage-- Arrival at Havana

LETTER THE FIFTY-FOURTH

Havana--The Carnival--The Elssler--La Angosta--_Ingenio_ of Count V---a-- General Bustamante--Lord Morpeth--Leave Havana--Voyage in the Medway--Old Friends--Return to the United States

PREFACE

The present work is the result of observations made during a two years' residence in Mexico, by a lady, whose position there made her intimately acquainted with its society, and opened to her the best sources of information in regard to whatever could interest an enlightened foreigner. It consists of letters written to the members of her own family, and, _really_, not intended originally--however incredible the assertion--for publication. Feeling a regret that such rich stores of instruction and amusement, from which I have so much profited, myself, should be reserved for the eyes of a few friends only, I strongly recommended that they should be given to the world. This is now done, with a few such alterations and omissions as were necessary in a private correspondence; and although the work would derive more credit from the author's own name, than from anything which I can say, yet as she declines prefixing it, I feel much pleasure in making this statement by way of introduction to the public.

WILLIAM H. PRESCOTT.

Boston, December 20, 1842.

GLOSSARY

OF

SPANISH OR MEXICAN WORDS WHICH OCCUR IN THE COURSE OF THE WORK, WHICH ARE GENERALLY EXPLAINED WHEN FIRST USED, BUT WHICH BEING REPEATED, THE READER MIGHT FORGET AND WISH TO REFER TO.

_Administrador_-Agent. _Alameda_-Public walk with trees. _Aquador_-Water-carrier. _Alacran_-Scorpion. _Anquera_-Coating of stamped gilt leather, edged with little bells, which covers the back of the horses. _Arriero_-Muleteer. _Arroba_-Spanish weight of twenty-five pounds. _Azotea_-The flat roof of a house. _Barranca_-Ravine. _Botica_-Apothecary's shop. _Calle_-Street. _Cargadores_-Men who carry loads. _Chinguirito_-Spirit made from sugar-cane. _Chile_-Hot peppers. _Compadre and Comadre_-Godfather and Godmother; names by which two persons address each other, who have held the same child at the baptismal font, or have been sponsors together at a marriage, etc. _Canonigo_-Canon or prebendary. _Comicos_-Actors. _Camarista_-Lady of honour. _día de Anos_-Birthday. _Dulces_-Sweetmeats. _Díario_-Daily newspapers. _Frisones_-Large horses from the north. _Función_-Solemnity-festival. _Frijoles_-Brown beans. _Galopina_-Kitchen-girl. _Garbanzos_-Chick-peas _Cicer Arietinum_. _Gachupin_-Name given to the Spaniards in Mejico. _Garita_-City-gate. _Goleta_-Schooner. _Gentuza_-Rabble. _Honras_-Funeral honours. _Hacienda_-Country-place. _Ingenio de Azucar_-Sugar plantation. _Invalidos--Disabled soldiers. _Jarro_--Earthen jar. _Ladrones_--Robbers. _Léperos_--Beggars, low persons. _Litera_--Litter. _Monte Pio_--Office where money is lent on security. _Mezcal_--Brandy distilled from pulque. _Manga_--Cloak made of cloth, with a hole in the middle for putting the head through. _Novios_--Betrothed persons. _Nuestro Amo_--Our Master, used in speaking of the Host. _Ojo de Agua_--Spring of water. _Portales_--Covered portico supported by columns. _Pulqueria_--Shop where pulque is sold. _Paseo_--Public walk. _Paso_--Pace, pacing. _Padrino_--Godfather. _Plaza_--Square. _Patio_--Courtyard. _Petate_--Matting. _Poblana_--Woman of Puebla. _Pronunciamiento_--A revolution in Mexico. _Pronunciados_--Those who revolt. _Rancho_--A farm. _Ranchero_--Farmer. _Rebozo_--A scarf that goes over the head. _Reja_--Iron grate. _Sopilote_--Species of carrion vulture. _Sarape_--A woollen blanket more or less fine, with a hole for the head to go through. _Traspaso_--Conveyance, transfer. _Tilma_--Indian cloak. _Tierra caliente_--The hot land. _Tertulia_--An evening party. _Toreador_--Bull-fighter. _Tortilla_--Species of thin cake. _Tortillera_--Woman who bakes tortillas. _Vaca_--Joint stock in gambling. _Vomito_--Name given to the yellow fever. _Venta_--Inn.

LIFE IN MEXICO

LETTER THE FIRST

Departure of the Norma--Last look of New York Bay--Fellow-passengers --Contrary Winds--Deceitful Appearances--Sunset in Southern Latitudes --Seas passed over by Columbus--Varied Occupations on Shipboard--Berry Islands--Bahama Banks--Evening in a Tropical Sea--L. E. L.--Pan of Matanzas--Morro Castle--Bay of Havana--Arrival--Handsome House in Havana--Sights and Sounds.

PACKET SHIP "NORMA,"

Oct. 27th, 1839.

This morning, at ten o'clock, we stepped on board the steamboat Hercules, destined to convey us to our packet with its musical name. The day was foggy and gloomy, as if refusing to be comforted, even by an occasional smile from the sun. All prognosticated that the Norma would not sail to-day, but "where there's a will," etc. Several of our friends accompanied us to the wharf; the Russian Minister, the Minister of Buenos Ayres, Mr. -----, who tried hard to look sentimental, and even brought tears into his eyes by some curious process; Judge -----, Mr. -----, and others, from whom we were truly sorry to part.

The Norma was anchored in one of the most beautiful points of the bay, and the steamboat towed us five miles, until we had passed the Narrows. The wind was contrary, but the day began to clear up, and the sun to scatter the watery clouds.

Still there is nothing so sad as a retreating view. It is as if time were visibly in motion; and as here we had to part from -----, we could only distinguish, as through a misty veil, the beauties of the bay; the shores covered to the water's edge with trees rich in their autumnal colouring; the white houses on Staten Island--the whole gradually growing fainter, till, like a dream, they faded away.

The pilot has left us, breaking our last link with the land. We still see the mountains of Neversink, and the lighthouse of Sandy Hook. The sun is setting, and in a few minutes we must take our leave, probably for years, of places long familiar to us.

Our fellow-passengers do not appear very remarkable. There is Madame A----, returning from being prima donna in Mexico, in a packet called after the opera in which she was there a favourite, with her husband Señor V---- and her child. There is M. B---- with moustaches like a bird's nest; a pretty widow in deep affliction, at least in deep mourning; a maiden lady going out as a governess, and every variety of Spaniard and Havanero. So now we are alone, C---n and I, and my French femme-de-chambre, with her air of Dowager Duchess, and moreover sea-sick.

28th.--When I said I liked a sea life, I did not mean to be understood as liking a merchant ship, with an airless cabin, and with every variety of disagreeable odour. As a French woman on board, with the air of an afflicted porpoise, and with more truth than elegance, expresses it: "Tout devient puant, même l'eau-de-cologne."

The wind is still contrary, and the Norma, beating up and down, makes but little way. We have gone seventy-four miles, and of these advanced but forty. Every one being sick to-day, the deck is nearly deserted. The most interesting object I have discovered on board is a pretty little deaf and dumb girl, very lively and with an intelligent face, who has been teaching me to speak on my fingers. The infant heir of the house of ----- has shown his good taste by passing the day in squalling. M. B----, pale, dirty, and much resembling a brigand out of employ, has traversed the deck with uneasy footsteps and a cigar appearing from out his moustaches, like a light in a tangled forest, or a jack-o'-lantern in a marshy thicket. A fat Spaniard has been discoursing upon the glories of olla podrida. _Au reste_, we are slowly pursuing our way, and at this rate might reach Cuba in three months.

And the stars are shining, quiet and silvery. All without is soft and beautiful, and no doubt the Norma herself looks all in unison with the scene, balancing herself like a lazy swan, white and graciously. So it is without, and within, there is miserable sea-sickness, bilge-water, and all the unavoidable disagreeables of a small packet.

31st.--Three days have passed without anything worthy of notice having occurred, except that we already feel the difference of temperature. The passengers are still enduring sea-sickness in all its phases.

This morning opened with an angry dispute between two of the gentlemen, on the subject of Cuban lotteries, and they ended by applying to each other epithets which, however much they might be deserved, were certainly rather strong; but by dinner time, they were amicably engaged in concocting together an enormous tureen of _gaspachos_, a sort of salad, composed of bread, oil, vinegar, sliced onion and garlic--and the fattest one declares that in warm weather, a dish of _gaspachos_, with plenty of garlic in it, makes him feel as fresh as a rose. He must indeed be a perfect bouquet.

The opening of morning is dramatic in our narrow cabin. About twenty voices in Spanish, German, Italian, and broken English, strike up by degrees. From a neighbouring state room, _Nid d'oiseau_ puts forth his head. "Stooar! a toomlar! here is no vater!" "Comin, sir, comin." "_Caramba!_ Stooard!" "Comin, sir, comin!" "Stuart? vasser und toel!" "Here, sir." "Amigo! how is the wind?" (This is the waking up of el Señor Ministro, putting his head half suffocated out of his berth.) "Oh steward! steward!" "Yes, miss," "Come here, and look at _this_!" "I'll fix it, miss,"--etc.

1st November.--A fair wind after a stifling night, and strong hopes of seeing the Bahama Banks on Sunday. Most people are now gradually ascending from the lower regions, and dragging themselves on deck with pale and dejected countenances. Madame A---- has such a sweet-toned voice in speaking, especially in her accents of her _bella Italia_, that it is refreshing to listen to her. I have passed all day in reading, after a desultory fashion, "Les Enfants d'Edouard," by Casimir Delavigne, Washington Irving, D'Israeli's "Curiosities of Literature," etc.; and it is rather singular that while there is a very tolerable supply of English and French books here, I see but one or two odd volumes in Spanish, although these packets are constantly filled with people of that nation, going and coming. Is it that they do not care for reading, or that less attention is paid to them than to the French or American passengers? One would think Cervantes, Lope de Vega, Calderon, or Moratin, better worth buying than many commonplace novels which I find here.

3rd.--Yesterday the wind blew soft as on a summer morning. A land-bird flew into the ship. To-day the wind has veered round, but the weather continues charming. The sea is covered with multitudes of small flying-fish. An infantile water-spout appeared, and died in its birth. Mr. -----, the consul, has been giving me an account of the agreeable society in the Sandwich Islands! A magnificent sunset, the sight of which compensates for all the inconveniences of the voyage. The sky was covered with black clouds lined with silver, and surrounded by every variety of colour; deep blue, fleecy, rose, violet, and orange. The heavens are now thickly studded with stars, numbers shooting across the blue expanse like messengers of light, glancing and disappearing as if extinguished.

It is well to read the History of Columbus at sea, but especially in these waters, where he wandered in suspense, high-wrought expectation, and firm faith; and to watch the signs which the noble mariner observed in these latitudes; the soft serenity of the breezes, the clear blue of the heavens, the brilliancy and number of the stars, the sea-weeds of the gulf, which always drift in the direction of the wind, the little land-birds that come like harbingers of good tidings, the frequency of the shooting stars, and the multitude of flying-fish.

As the shades of evening close around, and the tropical sky glitters with the light of innumerable stars, imagination transports us back to that century which stands out in bold relief amidst other ages rolling by comparatively undistinguished, and we see as in a vision the Discoverer of a World, standing on the deck of his caravel, as it bounded over the unknown and mysterious waste of waters, his vigilant eyes fixed on the west, like a Persian intently watching the rising of his god; though his star was to arise from whence the day-god sets. We see him bending his gaze on the first dark line that separated the watery sea from the blue of the heavens, striving to penetrate the gloom of night, yet waiting with patient faith until the dawn of day should bring the long-wished for shores in sight.

6th.--For three days, three very long and uncomfortable days, the wind, with surprising constancy, has continued to blow dead ahead. In ancient days, what altars might have smoked to Aeolus! Now, except in the increased puffing of consolatory cigar-smoke, no propitiatory offerings are made to unseen powers. There are indeed many mourning signs amongst the passengers. Every one has tied up his head in an angry-looking silken bandana, drawn over his nose with a dogged air. Beards are unshaven, a black stubble covering the lemon-coloured countenance, which occasionally bears a look of sulky defiance, as if its owner were, like Juliet, "past hope, past cure, past help."

7th.--This morning the monotony of fine weather was relieved by a hearty squall, accompanied by torrents of rain, much thunder, and forked lightning. The ship reeled to and fro like a drunken man, and the passengers, as usual in such cases, performed various involuntary evolutions, cutting right angles, sliding, spinning round, and rolling over, as if Oberon's magic horn were playing an occasional blast amidst the roaring winds; whilst the stewards alone, like Horace's good man, walked serene amidst the wreck of crockery and the fall of plates. Driven from our stronghold on deck, indiscriminately crammed in below like figs in a drum; "weltering," as Carlyle has it, "like an Egyptian pitcher of tamed vipers," the cabin windows all shut in, we tried to take it coolly, in spite of the suffocating heat.

There is a child on board who is certainly possessed, not by a witty malicious demon, a diable boiteux, but by a teasing, stupid, wicked imp, which inspires him with the desire of tormenting everything human that comes within his reach. Should he escape being thrown overboard, it will show a wonderful degree of forbearance on the part of the passengers.

8th.--The weather is perfect, but the wind inexorable; and the passengers, with their heads tied up, look more gloomy than ever. Some sit dejected in corners, and some quarrel with their neighbours, thus finding a safety-valve by which their wrath may escape.

9th.--There is no change in the wind, yet the gentlemen have all brightened up, taken off their handkerchiefs and shaved, as if ashamed of their six days' impatience, and making up their minds to a sea-life. This morning we saw land; a long, low ridge of hills on the island of Eleuthera, where they make salt, and where there are many negroes. Neither salt nor negroes visible to the naked eye; nothing but the gray outline of the hills, melting into the sea and sky; and having tacked about all day, we found ourselves in the evening precisely opposite to this same island. There are Job's comforters on board, who assure us that they have been thirty-six days between New York and la "joya mas preciosa de la corona de Espana."[1]

[Footnote 1: The most precious jewel in the Spanish crown, the name given to Cuba.]

For my part, I feel no impatience, having rather a dislike to changing my position when tolerable, and the air is so fresh and laden with balm, that it seems to blow over some paradise of sweets, some land of fragrant spices. The sea also is a mirror, and I have read Marryat's "Pirate" for the first time.

Thus then we stand at eight o'clock, P.M.; wind ahead, and little of it, performing a zigzag march between Eleuthera and Abaco. On deck, the pretty widow lies in an easy chair, surrounded by her countrymen, who discourse about sugar, molasses, chocolate, and other local topics, together with the relative merits of Cuba as compared with the rest of the known world. Madame A---- is studying her part of Elizabetta in the opera of Roberto Devereux, which she is to bring out in Havana, but the creaking of the Norma is sadly at variance with harmony. A pale German youth, in dressing-gown and slippers, is studying Schiller. An ingenious youngster is carefully conning a well-thumbed note, which looks like a milliner's girl's last billet-doux. The little _possédé_ is burning brown paper within an inch of the curtains of a state-room, while the steward is dragging it from him. Others are gradually dropping into their berths, like ripe nuts from a tree. Thus are we all pursuing our vocations.

9th.--Wind dead ahead! I console myself with Cinq-Mars and Jacob Faithful. But the weather is lovely. A young moon in her first quarter, like a queen in her minority, glitters like a crescent on the brow of night.

Towards evening the long wished for lighthouse of Abaco (built by the English) showed her charitable and revolving radiance. But our ship, Penelope-like, undoes by night what she has performed by day, and her course is backward and crabbish. A delicious smell of violets is blowing from the land.

10th.--A fair wind. The good tidings communicated by the A----, _toute rayonnante de joie_. A fair wind and a bright blue sea, cool and refreshing breezes, the waves sparkling, and the ship going gallantly over the waters. So far, our voyage may have been tedious, but the most determined landsman must allow that the weather has been charming.

Sunday at sea; and though no bells are tolling, and no hymns are chanted, the blue sky above and the blue ocean beneath us, form one vast temple, where, since the foundations of the earth and sea were laid, _Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night showeth knowledge_.

This morning we neared the Berry Islands, unproductive and rocky, as the geography books would say. One of these islands belongs to a coloured man, who bought it for fifty dollars--a cheaply-purchased sovereignty. He, his wife and children, with their _negro slaves_! live there, and cultivate vegetables to sell at New York, or to the different ships that pass that way. Had the wind been favourable, they would probably have sent us out a boat with fresh vegetables, fish, and fruit, which would have been very acceptable. We saw, not far from the shore, the wreck of a two-masted vessel; sad sight to those who pass over the same waters to see

"A brave vessel, Who had, no doubt, some noble creatures in her, Dashed all to pieces!"

Who had, at least, some of God's creatures in her. Anything but that! I am like Gonzalo, and "would fain die a dry death."

We are now on the Bahama Banks, the water very clear and blue, with a creamy froth, looking as if it flowed over pearls and turquoises. An English schooner man-of-war (a _boy_-of-war in size) made all sail towards us, doubtless hoping we were a slaver; but, on putting us to the test of his spy-glass, the captain, we presume, perceived that the general tinge of countenance was lemon rather than negro, and so abandoned his pursuit.

This evening on the Banks. It would be difficult to imagine a more placid and lovely scene. Everything perfectly calm, all sail set, and the heavens becoming gradually sprinkled with silver stars. The sky blue, and without a cloud, except where the sun has just set, the last crimson point sinking in the calm sea and leaving a long retinue of rainbow-coloured clouds, deep crimson tinged with bright silver, and melting away into gray, pale vapour.

On goes the vessel, stately and swanlike; the water of the same turquoise blue, covered with a light pearly froth, and so clear that we see the large sponges at the bottom. Every minute they heave the lead. "By the mark three." "By the mark three, less a quarter." "By the mark twain and a half," (fifteen feet, the vessel drawing thirteen,) two feet between us and the bottom. The sailor sings it out like the first line of a hymn in short metre, doled out by the parish clerk. I wish Madame A---- were singing it instead of he. "By the mark three, less a quarter." To this tune, the only sound breaking the stillness of the night, I dropped to sleep. The captain passed the night anxiously, now looking out for lights on the Banks, now at the helm, or himself sounding the lead:

"For some must watch whilst others sleep; Thus wags the world away."

11th.--Beautiful morning, and fair wind. About eight we left the Banks. Just then we observed, that the sailor who sounded, having sung out five, then six, then in a few minutes seven, suddenly found no bottom, as if we had fallen off all at once from the brink of the Bank into an abyss.