New-York daily tribune. [volume], October 28, 1843, Image 1

About New-York daily tribune. [volume] (New-York [N.Y.]) 1842-1866

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FAST AND PRESENT
Is earlier days, in happier hours,
J watched and -.-anderen" with the Sun :
I saw him when the East was red :
I saw him when the day was dead?
All his earthly journey done!
Looks of love were in the West,
But he passed?and took no rest I
O'er the immeasurcblc blue.
Across the rain, amid the blast,
Onward and onward, like a god,
Through the trackless air he trod,
Scattering bounties as he passed
By the portal of the West?
And never shut his eyes in rest'.
Oh, how?in those too happy hours?
How deeply then did I adore
The bright, unwearied, sleepless Sun,
And wish, just thus, my course to run?
From sea to sea, from shore to shore,
My deeds thus good, thus known, thus bright,
Thus undisturbed by rest or night.
But now?since I have heard and seen
The many cares that trouble life,
The evil that rcquitcth good.
The benefits not understood,
Unfilial, unpalernal strife,
The hate, the lie, the bitter jest,
i feel how sweet arc night and rest!
And, oh! what morning ever look'd
.So lovely as the quiet eve.
When low and fragrant winds arise.
And draw the custains of the skies,
And gentle songs of summer weave :
Such as between the alders creep,
fioic, and soothe ray soul to sleep !
Barky Cornw S.I.L.
Letters from Italy.No. XXII,
Forei|rn Correspondence of the N. Y. Tribune.
THE LADIF.S OF Nl'.W-VORK AND T HI. LADir.3 Of 1TA1.V.
[Continued] Rome, April, 1S43.
I said in my last letter I would speak of the
manners of the Italian women, which was the
cause of their being so universally admired by
foreigners. This alone makes an immense differ?
ence between an Italian and an American city.
Broadway, with all its array of beauty, never
inclines one to feel lively and merry, The ladies
(the men arc worse of course) seem to have come
out for any other purpose than to enjoy themselves.
Their whole demeanor is like one sitting for his
portrait. Every thing is just as it should be, to
be looked at. Every lady wears a serious face,
and the whole throng is like a stiff country party.
The ladies in Italy on the contrary go out to be
merry, and it is one perpetual chatter and laugh on
the public promenades. The movements are all
different, and the very air seems gay. I never
went down Broadway at the promenade hour
alone with the blues without coming back feeling
bluer, while I never returned from a public pro?
menade in Italy without rubbing my hands, say?
ing to myself 1 well this must be a very comforta?
ble world alter all, for people do enjoy themselves
in it amazingly.' This difference is still more
jterceptible on personal acquaintance. An Italian
lady never sits and utters common-places with
freezing formality. She is more flexible, and in?
deed if the truth must be said, better natured and
happier than too many of my countrywomen.?
She is not on the keen look out lest she should
fail to frown every time propriety demanded.
There is no country in the world where woman
way is so worshipped, and allowed to have her own
as m America, and yet there is no country where
she is so ungrateful for the place and power she
occupies. Have you never in B road way, when
the omnibus was full, stepped out into the rain
t3 let a lady take your place, which she most unhes
ita?ngly did, and with an indifference in her man?
ner as if she considered it the merest trifle in the
world you had done? How cold and heartless her
M thank yc," if she gave one ! Dickens makes
this same remark with regard to stage coaches?
so does Hamilton. Now, do such a favor for an
Italian lady, and you would be rewarded with
?ae of the sweetest smiles that ever brightened
?u a human countenance. I do not go on the
principle that a man must always expect a re?
gard for his good deeds; yet, when I have had
my kindest offices as a stranger, received as if I
were almost suspected of making improper ad
?nees, I have felt there was little pleasure in
being civil. The " grazic Signore," and smile
with which an Italian rewards the commonest
ttT?Uji would make the plainest woman appear
-wdsomc in the eyes of a foreigner. They also
^c-omc more easily animated, till they make it all
^iight around them. They never tire you with
*e &3rne monotonous aspect, but yield in
koe and look to the passing thought, whether
u ^ sad, or mirthful; and then they are
80 free from all formality, and so sensitively
ca.*eful of your feelings. I shall never forget
^ of the first acquaintances I made in Italy.
J was ^at the Marquis de Negro's one even
*g. conversing with some gentlemen, when
the Marquis came up and wished to introduce me
to a beautiful lady-m?Ced she was the most
beautiful Italian woman I have ever seen. I de?
clined, saying I did not understand the Italian
language well enough to converse with so beauti
M a woman, " for you know (said I) one want*
Jo say very clever things in such a case, and a
^nder would be crucifying." ? p^h pooh;'
he, 4' come along "?und taking me by the
Mulders led me along and forced me down into
a chair by her side, saying, " Now talk." If she
aad been half as much disconcerted as I was, 1
^?uid have blundered beyond redemption : but
^e good-natured laugh with which she regarded
*?e Marquis's performance entirely restored my
confidence, and I stumbled along in the Italian
*r half an hour, without her ever giving the least
^motion, by look or word, that 1 did not speak
H *Hh perfect propriety.
^'ve rnc also your Italian lady to smooth over
^Qis^btcr. One day several of the nobility had
invited on hoard one of our ships of the
j?e to dinner. After the ladies had left the ta
? thc Wlne began to circulate pretty frcelv, and
^ innumerable were drunk. The Italians
^?ught R would be uncivil not to drain their glass
every toast, and, unaccustomed to our strong
^?i they eoon became boozy, and did not be.
BY" GREELEY & McELRATH.
VOL. EIS. NO. 173.
have in the most gentlemanly manner conceiva
ble. The ladies, of course, were very much
shocked and mortified. One evening, soon after,
at a ' conversazione,' the Marchioness of Balbi
came to me to explain the matter. She said the
gentlemen felt they must drink the toasts, or, as
she expressed it, "perj'orza" and the wine was
so strong that they were caught before they were
well aware of it. One of her friends, she said,
had been in England, and knew the effect of our
wines; and so when he put the glass to his
mouth, he let the wine run down into his vest, for
he must (" per forza ") pretend to drink. Here
she put on such a dolorous look, and passed her
hands down her dress to show the way the
wine flowed into the poor fellow's bosom with
such inimitable naivete, that I burst into an in
controllable fit of laughter.
This same naivete of manner extends itself
everywhere. If you meet a beautiful peasant
girl, and bow to her, she shows one of the finest
set of teeth in the world, and laughs in the most
perfcet good humor. As I was onee coming
down from Mount Vesuvius, I passed an Italian
lady with her husband, who by their attendants I
took for persons of distinction. I had an immense
stick in my hand, with which J had descended
into ther crate. As I rode slowly by, she turned
to me in the plcasantcst manner, and said "ha un
grande bastone, signore," (you have got a large
cane, sir:) I certainly did not respect her less for
her "forwardness"!! (civility,) but on the contrary
felt I would have gone any length to have served
her.
Indeed, this same freedom from the ridiculous
frigidity, which in my country is thought an in?
dispensable safeguard to virtue, is found every?
where in Europe. It has given me, when a soli,
tary stranger, many a happy hour on the Rhine,
and on the Mediterranean. Passing once from
Civita Vecchia to Naples, in a steamer, on one of
the most beautiful moonlight nights that ever
slept on the blue Mediterranean, I formed an ac?
quaintance I shall always remember. A Russian
baron and lady, and a pretty young Finlaridese,
his niece, were on board. The old gentleman and
his niece were sitting on deck enjoying the moon?
light, and looking off on the shores of Italy and the
islands past which we were speeding like a spirit;
while I was slowly pacing backwards and for?
wards, thinking now of the sky, I was under, and
now of the far home on which a colder moonlight
was sleeping. The old baron soon accosted me,
and after a short conversation I resumed my
walk. Soon after we went into the cabin a ihort
time, when passing by the Finlandcss, she ad?
dressed me so pleasantly and lady-like, that I was
perfectly charmed with her civility. Ah, said I
to myself, a solitary stranger would have prome?
naded the deck of a vessel in my fatherland long,
before one of my beautiful countrywomen would
have uttered a word to cheer him, and make him
long after bless her in his heart.
There arc a great many scoundrels in the world)
but there are very few which a lady cannot dis?
tinguish from a gentleman. In the United States
there is nothing more painful to a stranger, than
to be reminded (as he continually is) that he is
suspected.
The Italian has another attraction peculiar to
the beings of warm climes?she possesses deeper
emotions than those of colder latitudes, while s le
has less power to conceal them. The dark eye
flashes out its love or its hatred as soon as felt;
and in its intense and passionate gaze is an elo?
quence that thrills deeper than any language.?
She is a being all passion, which gives poetry to
her movements, looks, and words. It has made
her land the land of song, and herself an object
or interest the world over. A beautiful eye and
eye-brow are more frequently met here than at,
home. The brow is peculiarly beautiful?not
merely from its regularity, but singular flexibility.
It will laugh of itself, and the slight arch always
heralds and utters beforehand the piquant thing
the tongue is about to utter ; and then she laughs
so sweetly. Your Italian knows how to laugh, and,
by the way, she knows how to walk, which an
American lady docs not. An American lady walks
ht-ttcr than an English woman, who steps like a
grenadier, but still she walks badlv. Her move?
ment wants grace.
Yet notwithstanding all this, beauty is more
common at home than here. I will not speak of
moral qualities, for here the " dark-eyed beauty"
of Italy must iose in comparison; and indeed,
with all her passionate nature, 1 do not think her
capable of so lasting affection as an American.
It is fiercer, wilder, but more changeable.
But I must close. I wished to have a stroke
at our gentleman at home, but I have not room.
As a mass, the strollers down Broadway arc per?
fect barbarians in manners. Every man acts as
if he was afraid his rights would be infringed
upon, or somebody would question his personal
importance?and then such nods as familiar ac?
quaintances give each other! Here they would be
be noticed by the police, and a sharp look-out kept
in expectation of some stiletto scene. The ex?
treme civility here is not a thing of trifling mo?
ment, nor indeed any where. It dr>es more than
any one thing to make men feel kindly towards
each other, and saves a hundred broils. An Ital?
ian goes out of his way, and waives his rights, to
show what a gentlemanly regard he has for you.
An American will rather be rude than yield a
fraction, to show you how much he thinks of
himself. The result is, extreme kindliness of
manner here is universal, but at home bluntness.
Here, a man's whole demeanor says, 44 your ser?
vant, sir," in all deeds of politeness ; at home the
brusque air perpetually savs, 441 am as good a
man as you are.'' I believe if we were not a
very moral people, no jKiIice under heavens could
prevent incessant quarrels. Transfer our man?
ners into this hot-blooded region, and there would
soon be an explosion. Kindliness of manner
has more effect than we iinao-'inc to produce
charitable feeling. fT.
Singular Honesty.-A fellow by the name of
1 Si V? T7~r WM ,a,el>' arr'st'd>? F*yeue County, Ala.
relieved f.oni de.t, he nad not a?iW himself of ,he provl
sions of He Bankrupt L^w befnrH I- , ^ t ,? , . .
,i , ? , ir ", *w oe.ure it* repeal, he replied, with
the utmost self-complacency "I?mVm.. r. . i! i
. . , ' ., J> 1 am 1 nun of ti/O much hon?
est] and too much pride to wail myself of that law."
{LT The iron steamer, for the Tor^ographical
Engineers, to be used in exploring ha-bors ??d % maku,fr
surveys, us fast rergmg toward completion, [Buff. Go.
OFFICE NO- 160 I
NEW-YORK, SATURDAY
Letters from Mr. Weed.No. XXY1I.
Correspondence of the Albany Eiening Journal.
" I si; do\su to write you a letter? n'y t\ip.k:
A letter from Prance, with French pens and French ink!"
We ont into the docks at 12 o'clock, and I set
foot on the soil of " La Belle4' France amid the
chatterings of men, monkeys and parrots, all in
languages alike unintelligible. I feel, far more
sensibly than I cxpcctccj, the embarrassment and
mortification and reproach of being ignorant of
a language which has become so universal. My
first impulse was to return, instead of attempting
to travel deprived of two of the senses?for de?
prived I am. in all that can interest or instruct?
of the sense of hearing and of speech. The cars
and tongues of those who neither understand nor
speak French, are quite useless. We are even
worse off than mutes, for they h ive a language
of signs. It is on such occasions as these that
we realize and lament the waste of time. A very
few of the hours and days and weeks that I have
squandered, directed to the acquirement of the
French language, would have now spared me the
mortification of traveling through France virtu?
ally deaf and dumb! But these regrets, so far
as my own enjoyment is concerned, are wholly
unavailing. Should others, however, read this
Fetter, let them be admonished to learn the
French language, which can always be done
without interference with other studies. With
such a knowledge of French as may be acquired
from the Books, a few days residence in France,
to accustom the ear to its pronunciation, enables
the student to speak fluently and with ease.
There is scarcely any thing worth a traveler's
attention at Havre. I am far more interested
here with the Pcoplr than the place. I had only
seen the French individually. Here I encounter
them as a Nation. We know that they arc con?
stitutionally a gav, polite and amusement-seek?
ing race ; but their gayeties, politeness and frivo?
lity far exceed my expectations. You will infer,
on landing at Havre, from the numbers of mon?
keys antl parrots upon the docks, that these were
the main articles of French commerce. And in
walking through the streets, from the endless va?
riety of gewgaws and frippery displayed in shop
windows, you would suppose that the French
people were given over to levity and lightness.?
As for the People themselves, they seem to be
living without responsibilitv or care. In stroll?
ing through the place, I find nobody anxious or
thoughtful?nobody miserable or even unhappy.
And the few mendicants you see, come, not with
wo-begone faces and pitecus tale, but seek to
amuse you with the tricks of a monkey, a white
mouse, a young abigator, or some fantastical con?
trivance in mechanism.
On landing at Havre a traveler begins ( espe?
cially if he comes from England) to experience
some of the Custom-House annoyances and ex?
actions which vex and plague you throughout
Europe. Our party, fortunately, had nothing
contraband but a fewscgars, on which they made
us pay a second duty ; but the " searching ope?
rations" upon others were rigid and inquisitorial.
A lady from Ireland who came here to educate
her children, brought a trunk full of clothes,
upon each and every article of which she was
required to pay a duty amounting, in most cases,
to more than the articles would have cost her
ready made, and in all cases, more than the ma?
terial cost!
Havre is spoken of as a modern town, though
founded some half century before the discovery
of America. It has derived most of its commer?
cial importance from the trade with our country.
There are no castles or monuments here, and but
few historical associations. There are but few
hours in twenty-four when large vessels can get
in or out of the docks, which arc capable of re?
ceiving 250 ships. There arc American or Eng
lieh partners in most of the shipping houses here ;
and the English language is more spoken here
than in any other town in France. Havre was
a {Klint of considerable interest during the early
wars between France and England. The Duke
of Richmond embarked from this port in 1485,
with 4,000 men furnished by Charles VIII., and
with whom, backed by the forces which had
joined him after he had landed at Mil ford- Haven,
he encuuntered and overthrew the usurper and
tyrand Richard the Third. Shakspearc, you will
remember, makes Ratcl iff report the rumored em?
barkation of Richmond to King Richard, thus:
" Most mighty Sovereign, on the western coast
Ridcth a puissant Navy; to the shore
Throng nwiy doubtful, hollow-hearted friends,
Uuarm'daud unresolved, to beat them back;
Tis thought that Richmond is iheir Admiral,
And l/.ere they hull, expecting but the aid
Of Buckingham to vselcouu- them ashore."
The Huguenots surrendered Havre to Queen
Elizabeth in 1562, but the English, under the
Earl of Warwick, were subsequently driven out
by a besieging army commanded by the Consta?
ble Montmorency. The fleet of William III.
made an unsuccessful attempt to re-capture the
place in H5(J4. And in 1796 Sir Sidney Smith,
in attempting to cut out a French ship from un?
der its batteries, got 'upon the sand-banks, and
was himself captured by some gun-boats.
English or American travelers, on landing at
Havre, are required to go personally before the
Mayor, who receives their passports and gives
them a tenijiorary permit for Fans, whither the
originals follow them.
Roc en, Aug. :W.
We left Havre this morning at 6 o'clock in the
steamer for this place, which is about 9J miles.
There were from 250 to 2~i> passengers, with a
sprinkling of monkeys, parrots and poodles.?
There is no regulation here, which prohibits
"smoking abifi the wheel." Some twenty or
thirty French gentlemen, with huge mustachoes,
tire puffing their segars in the faces of a hundred
ladies. Such an exhibition of bad taste and ill
manners, in America, would have furnished John
liull with chapters for at least a dozen books ;
but in France they pass such tilings by without
remark.
The day was bright and the passage up the
beautiful Seme exceedingly pleasant. The bay.
at the mouth of the river, is seven miles wide.?
We stopped at Honfleur, (one of the towns in
France made classical in the "Sentimental Jour
ney."' to receive passengers. It is a dirty-looking
place, with 1U,0UU inhabitants, whose principal
traffic is in e^os, of which they send seven thou?
sand iJoz'-n to England weekly. They raise ex?
cellent fruit here, some of which (melons and
peaches" was brought on board. There are seve?
ral towns oa the Seine enjoying considerable
commerce, as is indicated by the number of ves?
sels at their wharves. There is much rural beau?
ty along its banks ; but in Agriculture France is
evidently a century behind England and Ameri?
ca. The various products of the soil are culti?
vated in patches instead of fields. The country
seems d.vided into gardens rather than farms.?
There are no fences here, as with us, nor hedges,
as in England. You see but few cattle or sheep,
and no hogs. A Farmer of Western New-York,
who dashes into his hundred acre wheat field
with a force sufHcient to cut, rake, bind and
trash it in two or three days, would be infinitely
amuscd with the primitive mode of harvesting in
France. Here the wheat is all cut with the
sickle, and then bound by women, who place the
sheaves in a sort of scraggy rack upon the back
of donkeys, that move along tehind the reapers.
NASSAU-STREET.
>B\8IVG, OCTOBER 28, 1843.
When the donkey gets loaded, (some eight or
ten small sheaves m each of his wooden saddle?
bags.; he is marched off to the road, where the
wheat is transferred to a clumsy wagon and drawn
lazily hence by three French ponies, tandem, to
the granary! In this wav a dozen people con?
sume a day in harvesting an acre. Two-thirds
of the persons I saw at work in the fields were
women.
At 12 o'clock the passengers began to order
their breakfasts, which are served, as in their
Cafes, in small rooms upon the guards of the
boat. The breakfasts generally consisted of red
wine, a mutton-chop and bread. A few ordered
coffee instead of wine, and some added butter to
their bread: while others substituted a boiled egg
for the mutton-chop. As there were more than
200 persons to be provided for in this way, the
culinary department displayed much activity for
two or three hours. I have known people, how?
ever, whose fastidiousness would have preferred
a long fast to a breakfast upon plates and with
knives and forks that had served twenty others
without having been removed from the table.
There arc several very pleasant towns along
the Seine, the prettiest' of which is Candebcc.
that seems, in passing, like a beautifully painted
landscape. All around Candebcc you see lovely
Villas and Chateaux. This town was taken by
the English, under the Earls of Talbot and War?
wick, in 1419. Quillcboeuf, an old town with
considerable shipping at its docks, is situated
upon a projecting promontory, and shows very
conspicuously. The navigation of the Seine, at
this point, is difficult and dangerous, on account
of the rapidity with which the tides change the
positions of the sand-bars. Vessels are frequently
lost here. During the French Revolution the
Telcmaque, a vessel containing the money and
jewels of Bourbon Princes, was wrecked and
sunk here. These immense treasures are talked
of, coveted, and sighed for, here, as is the specie
supposed to have been swallowed in the British
ship-of-war sunk near IIurl-Gate during our Re?
volution.
There arc clusters of hamlets along the river,
all enjoying the shade of fine groves, where the
peasantry seem passing lives as pastorally, tran?
quil and happv as falls to the lot of man. Indeed,
passing up this charming river, I saw many cot?
tages the grace and beauty of which awakened
sensations as delightful as those expressed so
sweetly and melodiously by Moore :?
" 1 know by the smoke that so gracefully curlM
Above rh" green elms, tin: i cottage was near.
And I said, ' If there's peace to br found in the world,
The heart that is humble, might hope fur it here.'"
This place (Rouen) is the capital of ancient
Normandy, and is second only to Paris in historic
associations ; and in some respects scarcely se?
cond even to Paris. Under the auspices of Capt.
Funk, the excellent and popular commander of
the packet ship Baltimore, who had just arrived
from New-York, and who accompanied us to
Paris, we visited the numerous objects of inter?
est in and about Rouen. In going to our Hotel
we passed through several long, narrow, dark,
damp streets, rudely paved, and without side?
walks, whose high gable-faced buildings at the
caves approached so near as almost to form an
arch, and to exclude all but some feeble rays of
heaven's light and air. Arrived at the Hotel I
was shown into the fifth story of a most antiqua?
ted building. The stairs were of stone, into
which foot-steps have worn several inches. The
bed-room is paved with a species of brick, octa?
gonal in form, and of variegated colors. There
is an oaken table and two rude chairs in my
room, that are probably as old as our good City
of Albany. RouEN, though very ancient, is not,
in any respect a ruin. It is a busy, bustling,
thrifty town. Its commerce is large, and its
manufactures very considerable ; and it contains
a population of 92,000. The Seine spreads out
1,000 feet here, and Rouen has docks and wharves
for 2f?U vessels. Along the Quay the old build?
ings have been demolished, and replaced by blocks
of spacious and massive yellow marble. These
modern structurues present a beautiful front or
facings, for an interior of dark, devious, desolate,
winding labyrinths, from which a stranger extri?
cates himself with difficulty. In Walking through
Uie centre partsof Rouen you encounter bad pave?
ments, nil sorts of filth, and t*he most villainous
odors.
Our first visit was to the Cathedral of Notre
Dame, a vast and venerable pile, " whose frown,"
(as Counsellor Phillips said of Napoleon,) u terri?
fies the glance his magnificence attracts." With?
out attempting to describe this splendid Church,
let me remind you of some of its associations.?
One of its tall spires was destroyed by lightning
in lc22, in the place of which, somebody's bad
taste suggested a long, horrid looking iron tube
or chimney, which now deforms and mars the
view. The first Duke of Normandy was buried
here in the 13th century. The heart of Richard
Coeur dc Lion, and the bodies of his brothers,
Henry and William, and of their uncle, the Duke
of Bedford, were interred here. During the
French Revolution, the enormous Bell, together
with the Collins in which several of the Cardi?
nals, Sic. had been interred, were taken away and
melted into cannon and coins by the Revolu?
tionists.
The Bibliolheque Publique of Rouen contains
33,000 volumes, among which is a richly orna?
mented manuscript history of the Normans, writ?
ten in the twelfth century. The Musee des An.
tiquitcs is rich in curiosities, and no stranger
should pass Rouen without seeing them. In this
collection, you sec the door of the house in which
Corneille was born. It windows are all of the
painted glass from suppressed Convents, Church?
es. &c, and form a chronological series from tiie
13th to the 11th century. Among the Auto
graphs, is the 1 mark' of William the Conqueror,
who could not write ! There are also the signa?
tures of Richard Cceur de Lion and several Nor?
man PrinCcs. Adjoining this building is a Mu?
seum of Natural History.
Tiie Church of St. Jervais is supposed to bi fhc
oldest in Rouen, and one of the first Chn .' n
edifices in France. Its Roman tile and its ;t\ie
of masonry authorize a belief that its const uc
tion was commenced as early as the 4th centi'y.
William the Conqueror, suffering from the wound
received at Nantes, retired to the Monastery of
St. Gervais to die, deserted by friends, plundered
by dependants, and abandoned even by his own
sons.
There is a very miserable statue near the Place
de la Pucelle, which indicates the spot where the
heroine, Joan o'Akc, was burned alive as asorcer
css in 1531. The Quarterly Review, in an article
vindicating the character of this Christian enthu?
siast and martyr, says that she was sacrificed in
the presence of Cardinals, Priests, and a multi?
tude of Piopie; that while the flames were cir?
cling around her she held up the emblem of her
faith and died expressing her faith in the truth of
her mission. In prison she was subjected to in?
sult, treachery and outrage. She was dragged to
trial without counsel, and brow-beaten by her
brutal judges. But shameful as was the injustice
of England toward this illustrious maiden, they
were not alone cruel and remorseless. Her accu?
ser, her unjust judge, and the false priest who,
under the guise of friendship, acted the spy, were
Frenchmen. And even Charles VII, who owed
bis throne to her enthusiasm and gallantry, ex
FIVE DOLLARS A YEAR.
WHOLE NO. 791.
tended neither his protection nor his sympathy to
her. Some twenty years after her death, her in.
noccncc was proclaimed, and the French, having
become masters of Rouen, raised a rm<s on the
spot where she had been bound to the stake.
^ It was at Rouen that Henry VIII. attended by
Cardinal Wolscy, had an interview with Francis
I. The House in which Corneille was born stands
in the Rue dc la Pic, and a splendid statue in
honor of that great writer is seen at the end of the
beautiful Bridge over the Seine.
Rouen is the Lowell of France. Its Manufac?
tories furnish employment for 50,000 people.
I have been trying to stop this sufficiently long
yarn, but my pen has kept running, with a scrt of
cork-leg pertinacity, until it has at last exhausted
the patience of those whose good nature may
have beguiled them half-way through a 'thricc
told tale.' So now I'll to bed, in a cell strong
and gloomy, and old enough to have been some
unlucky wight's prison house three or four hun?
dred years ago.
SOFTLY WOO AWAY HER BRF.AT1L
Sokti.y woo away her breath,
Gentle Death!
Let her leave thee with no strife.
Tender, mournful, murmuring Life!
She hath seen her happy day:
She hath had her bud and blossom :
Now she pales and shrinks away,
Earth, into thy gentle bosom !
She hath done her bidding here,
Anjrcls dear!
Bear her perfect soul above,
Seraph of the skies?sweet I,ovc !
Good she was, and fair in youth,
And her mind was seen to soar,
And her heart was wed to truth :
Take her, then, for evermore?
For ever?evermore ! B ,KHY CoBNw u
Glimpses of Huropc.No. VII.
by a travelin? new-yokker.
From the Special Correspondent of the N. Y. Tribune.
ireland anu the irish.
To learn tiic real character, feelings, and habits
of a people, a traveler must turn aside from their
cities, their curiosities, and even their great men,
and talk with that portion of them who have not
been rubbed down into the uniformity of sea?
shore pebbles, by the attrition of education and
polished society. The lower classes of a nation
alone preserve its' original peculiarities, and they
express its real sentiments. In Ireland I have
found this to be especially true. The higher
classes here are English, in habits and feel.ngs ;
the populace alone retain their nationality.
A peasant who drove me from Colerain to Lon?
donderry, (here called " Deny,") was a true
Irishman in his mixture of humor and poetry,
shrewdness and simplicity. Several of his friends
had emigrated to America, and prospered there,
but he said, " I would rather lay my bones in the
grave to-morrow in ould Ireland, than live to be
Methuselah and Crcesus in a furrin country."?
Still he made many inquiries about the chances
of success in the United States; and I took the
opportunity of impressing upon him, for the ben?
efit of himself and friends, the advice which you
have so often and so justly urged upon emigrants,
not to stoj) a day in any large city, where they
are as little wanted as at home, but to hurry off
to the Great West, where strong arms and willing
hearts cannot fail eventually to prosper.
His prejudices against the English were equal?
ly strong. We were passing through Ballykelly,
a very beautiful and flourishing village, owned
by the Fishmonger's Company of London.?
They had received it, like the other London
Companies, as what in Wall-street is called " col?
lateral security" for a royal loan. By the terms
of their bargain, they were bound to expend on
the land all its returns, after paying themselves
the interest of their loan. They seem to have
done so most faithfully, for the land is very
highly improved, and studded with school-huuscs,
churches and hospitals. The place far surpassed
any thing around it; but on all this my Irish
driver turned a jaundiced eye, and could sec no
beauty in it, lor it was " all English work."
But ta all the old traditions of the country he
was keenly sensitive. Soon after leaving Cole
rain, we passed the ruins of Druminacorsechurch,
a faultless specimen of the picturesque, with its
mouldering fragments of wall, and pointed win?
dows, perfectly covered by a mantle of the most
luxuriant ivy. My unaffected admiration of it
opened his heart, and after premising that this
was one of the churches built by Saint Patrick
in every county in Ireland, he went on to tell the
storv of these ruins, while I made a hasty
sketch. " In coors, sir, when you was at Dun
lace castle," he bcy;an, "j'ou heard all about the
fighting of the McQueelana and the McDon?
alds." " Oh yes, I know all about them." " Well
then, sir," he resumed, " here they had a very
fierce battle. But as ill luck would have it, the
daughter of the McDonald loved the son of the
McQueclan. They met here the night before
the battle, and she gave him a feather, which she
had worked all over herself, to wear n his cap
that she might know him in the crowd. She
watched the fight from the tower of the church,
and there 's a bit of it lying beside the road.?
The McQueelans were badly beaten that day,
and she saw the young man fall. They laid him
beside a ci ne sthramc?and there ic is, sir?and j
when they came the next morning to lift him,
they found her lying dedd beside him. They
buried them together in the same grave, just under
that big tree you see there on that little green hill."
There is a morsel of romance for you, which you |
are doubtless too busy in President-making to do
justice to, but which you may hand over to some
poet, to be'framed and glazed in melodious verse
Unlike the generality of his countrymen in
the North of Ireland, my hero was a Repealer.?
He did not know exactly what Repeal was, but i
onlv that it was " something for the good of ould
Ireland." The implicit and thorough confidence
of the people in O'Conncll is most extraordinary. !
Some one entered into a dispute with this man
about the truth of his religion. His reply was,
'; And sure, is n't O'Connell a Catholic ? And !
isn't he a knowledgeable man? And would he i
believe it, then, if it wasn't true?" O'Conncll |
can have no stronger argument in his favor, and j
should need no stronger incentive to single heart- j
ed patriotism than this unwavering, unqualified . (
trust of the people.
From the same authority, I beard of a curious I (
coincidence, which he looked on as most deei- i
, ? ... .
I dcdl7 ? " special Providence." A very old cross
in Pungannon, said to have been placed there by
Saint Patrick, was pulled down about thirty
years ago, by some violent zealots six in num?
ber. Within twelve monthsevery man concerned
lost a son : three being hung, two drowned, and
one breaking his neck.
Not far from that locality was the castle of
11 irry Aggry, who had a pig.faced daughter._
He fed her in a golden trough, and offered her
weight in gold to any one who would marry her.
Many went up to the castle, but the sight of the
snout outweighed the gold.
Such are some of the stories current among
the Irish people. Trifling as they arc, they arc
a better index to their character than a dozen
highflown speeches in Parliament.
Car-riding is a curious operation. You may
have seen the vehicle, which has been exported to
America. It is like two sofas placed back to
back on two wheels. You ride sidewisc, seeing
every thing on one side and nothing on the other.
If you are the only passenger, you slide down to?
the horse in descending a hill, and then slip down
to the other end again on an ascent. If you have
any one beside you, he and you must take turns
in being cushion for the other to lean on. One
great advantage is that you can jump off or on
at your pleasure; but to counterbalance that,
your Limbs are in constant jeopardy from passing
vehicles. Indeed I once saw two cars come in
contact with such violence that one of the pas?
sengers had his leg broken short off below the
knee. Luckily it was only a wooden one.?The
" inside cars" are of a higher order of gentility.
In them the two sofas are placed front to front,
so that the vehicle much resembles a small om?
nibus with the top cut off.
The country from Colerain to Dcrry, has much
rural beauty of the English character, but its
very small fields and farms divided and sub?
divided till they cecomc mere potato-patches,
remind you of one of the greatest causes
of the misery of Ireland?its ovcr-popula.
tion. The inhabitants rush heedlessly into
matrimony, and trust to luck for bread
They feel, as indeed one of them said to me, that
they will never be better able to marry than at
the present moment, even most unfit as that is.
The result then follows, that there are more
mouths than they have potatoes to put into them.
But this is not the fault of the soil, for that is
most fertile, nor of their laziness, for I have seen
the cotter digging by the light of the moon in Iiis
little spot of ground, but it is the sad result of
the insufficient reward of labor. With us, a pair
of strong and willing arms arc eagerly sought
after, and well paid. Here, their owner is a bur?
den to the community.
This is the great evil, and its remedy is plain.
The price of every thing is proportioned to the
supply and the demand. Of labor, (which is a
commodity as much as wheat or beef,) the supply
is here large and the demand small. We cannot
diminish the former, and wc must therefore try
to increase the latter. We have the hands there,
and we must lind, or make work for them.?
A few American Railways, strewn through the
country, would do immense good to the work
less inhabitants. I have found this acknowledged
by some of the most enlightened noblemen of
Ireland, who have the conscientiousness to reside
upon their estates. But to effect this, capital is
nrcessary; the Imperial Parliament will do no?
thing, and moneyed-men doubt the security. A
Parliament of their own, would foster the interests
of the Island, and this would be one good result
of a Repeal of the Union, though I question
whether capitalists would then be more willing
than now to advance the necessary funds.
Another source of useful employment would be
in reclaiming the vast bodies of land now mere
turf-bogs, or covered at high tide by the sea.?
Some such operations on a small scale have been
conducted with grcot success; but as to exten?
sion, they arc in the same predicament as railways.
Few farmers venture to improve even their own
farms, for if they did, at the end of their lease,
the landlord would have the right (or rather the
power) and too often the inclination, to take their
improvements without any compensation. Un?
happily few land.workers here an? land-owners,
and our independent farmers cannot realize the
vast difference thus caused in their condition.?
To remedy this in some degree, the occupiers of
land in Ireland are earnestly petitioning for what
they call " a fixity of tenure,'' which would in?
sure to the tenant, at the expiration of his lease,
the just benefit of his own labor and expenditure
m permanent improvements. Leases would then
be given for a fixed number of year9, and not, as
now, for " three lives;" a custom which makes
the period as uncertain as the chances of life, for
the lease may then last for fifty years, or may
end to-morrow, by the sudden death of those on
whose lives it depends. This is one of the great
benefits hoped for from Repeal.
The tithe system does not seem to me to work
the injustice which is unuiilly attributed to it.?
Tithes arc really the rent of the land, which for?
merly belonged to the clergy, and which has been
given up by them to the people for the considera?
tion of one-tenth of its annual products. The
tithe is not paid for the services of the clergy, for
then it would be too glaringly unjust U require it
of the Catholics, but is paid for the use of their
property. Whether they acquired that property
justly is another question, which might be equally
well put to every landed proprietor, Even as it
is, the tenant does not pay it, but the landlord;
and if he was relieved from it, he would pocket
the difference; and this is proved by "tithe-free"
land renting for as much more as the tithes
amount to.
Absenteeism is, however, a real and a great
evil, and a source of many of the lesser troop.?
The noblemen and wealthy land holders of Ire?
land too generally reside in England or on the
Continent, and spend .there all the revenues of
their estates. Their agents or " middlemen man?
age their property, and seek only to screw from
the wretched tenants their last penny. This is
an evil which Repeal would much diminish, and
it would be one of its best results. Once thirty
Irish noblemen had mansions in Sackv.lle-street,
Dublin; now then; is not one. The Union de?
stroyed their political and social importance, and
they abandoned the country. Restore these to
them, and they will return, and their revenues
will circulate among those from whom they arc
derived. Any such measure, whether it bear the
name of Repeal, or Union, or any thing, should be
welcomed by every patriot, if it promises to pro?
mote the welfare of this lovely, but wretched
country._ vr. u. c.
, ID" The cotton crops throughout the State of
?rorii? are rvprf-ruted to fce exteediagl v lijht; ia many iu
'juitt* oue-thirvft'-iort.