Chapter V: Part 5

They had not seen him. Herrera darted back into the sitting-room.

"Where is the prisoner?" exclaimed Torres, whom he met there.

"Escaped!" cried Herrera. "The window! the window!"

They rushed to the open window. It was at the side of the house, and looked out upon a narrow street, having a dead wall for some distance along one side, and little used as a thoroughfare. At that moment not a living creature was to be seen in it. The height of the window from the ground did not exceed a dozen feet, offering an easy leap to a bold and active man, and one which, certainly, no one in Baltasar's circumstances would for a moment have hesitated to take. Herrera threw himself over the balcony, and dropping to the ground, ran off down a neighbouring lane, round the corner of which he fancied, on first reaching the window, that he saw the skirt of a man's coat disappear. Leaving the Count, who was now regaining consciousness, in charge of Paco, Torres hurried out to give the alarm and cause an immediate pursuit.

But in vain, during the whole of that day, was the most diligent search made throughout the town for the fugitive Carlist. Every place where he was likely to conceal himself, the taverns and lower class of posadas, the parts of the town inhabited by doubtful and disreputable characters, the houses of several suspected Carlists, were in turn visited, but not a trace of Baltasar could be found, and the night came without any better success. Herrera was furious, and bitterly reproached himself for his imprudence in leaving the prisoner alone even for a moment. His chief hope, a very faint one, now was, that Baltasar would be detected when endeavouring to leave the town. Strict orders were given to the sentries at the gates, to observe all persons going out of Pampeluna, and to stop any of suspicious appearance, or who could not give a satisfactory account of themselves.

The hour of noon, upon the day subsequent to Baltasar's disappearance, was near at hand, and the peasants who daily visited Pampeluna with the produce of their farms and orchards, were already preparing to depart. The presence of Cordova's army, promising them a great accession of custom, and the temporary absence from the immediate vicinity of the Carlist troops, who frequently prevented their visiting Christino towns with their merchandise, had caused an unusual concourse of country-people to Pampeluna during the few days that the Christino army had already been quartered there. Each morning, scarcely were the gates opened when parties of peasants, and still more numerous ones of short-petticoated, brown-legged peasant women, entered the town, and pausing upon the market-place, proceeded to arrange the stores of fowls, fruit, vegetables, and similar rustic produce, which they had brought on mules and donkeys, or in large heavy baskets upon their heads. Long before the sun had attained a sufficient height to cast its beams into the broad cool-looking square upon which the market was held, a multitude of stalls had been erected, and were covered with luscious fruits and other choice products of the fertile soil of Navarre. Piles of figs bursting with ripeness; melons, green and yellow, rough and smooth; tomatas; scarlet and pulpy; grapes in glorious bunches of gold and purple; cackling poultry and passive rabbits; the whole intermingled with huge heaps of vegetables, and nose-gays of beautiful flowers, were displayed in wonderful profusion to the gaze of the admiring soldiers, who soon thronged to the scene of bustle. As the morning advanced, numerous maid-servants, trim, arch-looking damsels, with small neatly-shod feet, basket on arm, and shading their complexion from the increasing heat of the sun under cotton parasols of ample dimensions, tripped along between the rows of sellers, pausing here and there to bargain for fruit or fowl, and affecting not to hear the remarks of the soldiers, who lounged in their neighbourhood, and expressed their admiration by exclamations less choice than complimentary. The day wore on; the stalls were lightened, the baskets emptying, but the market became each moment more crowded. Little parties of officers emerged from the coffee-houses where they had breakfasted, and strolled up and down, criticizing the buxom forms and pretty faces of the peasant girls; here and there a lady's mantilla appeared amongst the throng of female heads, which, for the most part, were covered only with coloured handkerchiefs, or left entirely bare, protected but by black and redundant tresses, the boast of the Navarrese maidens. Catalonian wine-sellers, their queer-shaped kegs upon their backs, bartered their liquor for the copper coin of the thirsty soldiers; pedlars displayed their wares, and _sardineras_ vaunted their fish; ballad-singers hawked about copies of patriotic songs; mahogany-coloured _gitanas_ executed outlandish, and not very decent, dances; whilst here and there, in a quiet nook, an itinerant gaming-table keeper had erected his board, and proved that he, of all others, best knew how to seduce the scanty and hard-earned maravedis from the pockets of the pleasure-seeking soldiery.

But, as already mentioned, the hour of noon now approached, and marketing was over for that day. The market-place, and its adjacent streets, so thronged a short time previously, became gradually deserted under the joint influence of the heat and the approaching dinner hour. The peasants, some of whom came from considerable distances, packed up their empty baskets, and, with lightened loads and heavy pockets, trudged down the streets leading to the town gates.

At one of these gates, leading out of the town in a northerly direction, several of the men on guard were assembled, amusing themselves at the expense of the departing peasantry, whose uncouth physiognomy and strange clownish appearance afforded abundant food for the quaint jokes and comical remarks of the soldiers. The market people were, for the most part, women, old men, and boys; the able-bodied men from the country around Pampeluna, having, with few exceptions, left their homes, either voluntarily or by compulsion, to take service in the Carlist ranks. Beneath the projecting portico of the guard-house, sat a sergeant, occupied, in obedience to orders given since the escape of Baltasar, in surveying the peasants as they passed with a keen and scrutinizing glance. For some time, however, this military Cerberus found no object of suspicion in any of the passers-by. Lithe active lads, greyhaired old men, and women whose broad shoulders and brawny limbs might well have belonged to disguised dragoons, but who, nevertheless, were unmistakeably of the softer sex, made up the different groups which successively rode or walked through the gate. Gradually the departures became less numerous, and the sergeant less vigilant; he yawned, stretched himself in his chair, rolled up a most delicate cigarrito between his large rough fingers, and lighting it, puffed away with an appearance of supreme beatitude.

"Small use watching," said he to a corporal. "The fellow's not likely to leave the town in broad daylight, with every body on the look-out for him."

"True," was the answer. "He'll have found a hiding-place in the house of some rascally Carlist. There are plenty in Pampeluna."

"Well," said the first speaker, "I'm tired of this, and shall punish my stomach no longer. Whilst I take my dinner, do you take my place. Stay, let yonder cabbage-carriers pass."

The peasants referred to by the sergeant, were a party of half a dozen women, and nearly as many lads and men, who just then showed themselves at the end of the street, coming towards the gate. Most of them were mounted on rough mountain ponies and jackasses, although three or four of the women trudged afoot, with pyramids of baskets balanced upon their heads, the perspiration streaming down their faces from the combined effects of the sun and their load. The last of the party was a stout man, apparently some five-and-forty years of age, dressed in a jacket and breeches of coarse brown cloth, and seated sideways on a scraggy mule, in such a position that his back was to the guard-house as he passed it. On the opposite side of the animal hung a pannier, containing cabbages and other vegetables; the unsold residue of the rider's stock in trade. The peasant's legs, naked below the knee, were tanned by the sun to the same brown hue as his face and bare throat; his feet were sandalled, and just above one of his ankles, a soiled bandage, apparently concealing a wound, was wrapped. A broad-brimmed felt hat shaded his half-closed eyes and dull stolid countenance, and the only thing that in any way distinguished him from the generality of peasants was his hair, which was cut short behind, instead of hanging, according to the usual custom of the province, in long ragged locks over the coat collar.

Occupied with his cigar and gossip, the sergeant vouchsafed but a careless and cursory glance to this party, and they were passing on without hindrance, when, from a window of the guard-house, a voice called to them to halt.

"How now, sergeant!" exclaimed the young ensign on guard. "What is the meaning of this? Why do these people pass without examination?"

The negligent sergeant rose hastily from his chair, and, assuming an attitude of respect, faltered an excuse.

"Peasants, sir; market-people."

The officer, who had been on guard since the preceding evening, had been sitting in his room, waiting the arrival of his dinner, which was to be sent to him from his quarters, and was rather behind time. The delay had put him out of temper.

"How can you tell that? You are cunning to know people without looking at then. Let them wait."

And the next moment he issued from the guard-house, and approached the peasants.

"Your name?" said he, sharply, to the first of the party.

"Jose Samaniego," was the answer. "A poor _aldeano_ from Artica, _para servir a vuestra senoria_. These are my wife and daughter."

The speaker was an old, greyhaired man, with wrinkled features, and a stoop in his shoulders; and, notwithstanding a cunning twinkle in his eye, there was no mistaking him for any thing else than he asserted himself to be.

The officer turned away from him, glanced at the rest of the party, and seemed about to let them pass, when his eye fell upon the sturdy, crop-headed peasant already referred to. He immediately approached him.

"Where do you come from?" said he, eyeing him with a look of suspicion.

The sole reply was a stare of stupid surprise. The officer repeated the question.

"From Berriozar," answered the man, naming a village at a greater distance from Pampeluna than the one to which old Samaniego claimed to belong. And then, as if he supposed the officer inclined to become a customer, he reached over to his pannier and took out a basket of figs.

"Fine figs, your worship," said he, mixing execrably bad Spanish with Basque words. "_Muy barato_. You shall have them very cheap."

When the man mentioned his place of abode, two or three of the women exchanged a quick glance of surprise; but this escaped the notice of the officer, who now looked hard in the peasant's face, which preserved its former expression of immovable and sleepy stupidity.

"Dismount," said the ensign.

The man pointed to his bandaged ankle; but on a repetition of the order he obeyed, with a grimace of pain, and then stood on one leg, supporting himself against the mule.

"I shall detain this fellow," said the officer, after a moment's pause. "Take him into the guard-room."

Just then a respectable-looking, elderly citizen, on his return apparently from a stroll outside the fortifications, walked past on his way into the town. On perceiving the young officer, he stopped and shook hands with him.

"Welcome to Pampeluna, Don Rafael!" he exclaimed. "Your regiment I knew was here, but could not believe that you had come with it, since I had never before known you to neglect your old friends."

"No fault of mine, Senor Lopez," replied the officer. "Three days here, and not a moment's rest from guards and fatigue duty."

"Well, don't forget us; Ignacia and Dolores look for you. Ah, Blas! you here? How's your leg, poor Blas? Did you bring the birds I ordered?"

These questions were addressed to the lame peasant, who replied by a grin of recognition; and an assurance that the birds in question had been duly delivered to his worship's servant.

"Very good," said Lopez. "Good morning, Don Rafael."

The young officer stopped him.

"You know this man, then, Senor Lopez?" inquired the ensign.

"Know him? as I know you. Our poultry-man; and if you will sup with us to-night, when you come off guard, you shall eat a fowl of his fattening."

"With pleasure," replied the ensign. "You may go," he added, turning to the peasant. "Let these people pass, sergeant. May I be shot, Don Basilio, if I didn't mean to detain your worthy poulterer on suspicion of his being a better man than he looked. There has been an escape, and a sharp watch is held to keep the runaway in the town. It would have been cruel, indeed, to stop the man who brings me my supper. Ha, ha! a capital joke! Stopping my own supplies!"

"A capital joke, indeed," said Lopez, laughing heartily. "Well, good bye, Don Rafael. We shall expect you to-night."

And the cloth-merchant walked away, his usual pleasant smile upon his placid face, whilst the peasants passed through the gate; and the officer, completely restored to good-humour by the prospect of a dainty supper and pleasant flirtation with Don Basilio's pretty daughters, proceeded to the discussion of his dinner, which just then made its appearance.

Crossing the river, the party of peasants who had met with this brief delay, rode along for a mile or more without a word being spoken amongst them. Presently they came to a place where three roads branched off, and here the lame peasant, who had continued to ride in rear of the others, separated from them, with an abrupt "adios!" Old Samaniego looked round, and his shrivelled features puckered themselves into a comical smile.

"Is that your road to Berriozar, neighbour?" said he. "It is a new one, if it be."

The person addressed cast a glance over his shoulder, and muttered an inaudible reply, at the same time that he thrust his hand under the vegetables that half filled his panniers.

"If you live in Berriozar, I live in heaven," said Samaniego. "But fear nothing from us. _Viva el Rey Carlos!_"

He burst into a shrill laugh, echoed by his companions, and, quickening their pace, the party was presently out of sight. The lame peasant, who, as the reader will already have conjectured, was no other than Baltasar de Villabuena, rode on for some distance further, till he came to an extensive copse fringing the base of a mountain. Riding in amongst the trees, he threw away his pannier, previously taking from it a large horse pistol which had been concealed at the bottom. He then stripped the bandage from his leg, bestrode his mule, and vigorously belabouring the beast with a stick torn from a tree, galloped away in the direction of the Carlist territory.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 3: The blockade system, as it was called, much extolled at the time, did not prevent the occurrence of various Carlist expeditions into Castile and Arragon, any more than it hindered large bodies of rebels from establishing themselves, under Cabrera and others, in Catalonia and Arragon, where they held out till after the pacification of the Basque provinces. If any hope was really entertained of starving out the Biscayan and Navarrese Carlists, or even of inconveniencing them for supplies of food, it proved utterly fallacious. Although two-thirds of Navarre, nearly the whole of Guipuzcoa, and a very large portion of Alava and Biscay Proper, consist of mountains, so great is the fertility of the valleys, that the Carlists never, during the whole struggle, experienced a want of provisions, but were, on the contrary, usually far better rationed than the Christino troops; and, strange to say, the number of sheep and cattle existing at the end of the war, in the country occupied by the Carlists, was larger than at its commencement. Money was wanting, tobacco, so necessary to the Spanish soldier, was scarce and dear, but food was abundant, although the number of mouths to be fed was much greater, and of hands to till the ground far less, than in time of peace. This, too, in one of the most thickly populated districts of Spain, and in spite of the frequent foraging and corn-burning expeditions undertaken by the Christinos into the Carlist districts, especially in the plains north of Vittoria and the valleys of southern Navarre.]

HOW THEY MANAGE MATTERS IN "THE MODEL REPUBLIC."

In the present doubtful state of our relations with the American Republic, many anxious eyes are of course being directed across the Atlantic, and much speculation excited as to the present policy and ultimate designs of that anomalous and ambitious people. Since increased facilities of communication have brought the two continents into closer union, and afforded their respective inhabitants more frequent opportunities of observing each other's political and social arrangements, it cannot, we think be said with truth, that those of the United States have risen in favour with the enlightened minds of Europe, least of all with those of England. For the obvious failings of that Republic are of a kind eminently adapted to shock minds cast in the European mould; while her virtues, however appropriate to the transatlantic soil in which they flourish, do not either so readily suggest themselves to the notice of the Old World, or, when fully realized, command a very extraordinary degree of respect. We do not very highly appreciate the liberty which appears to us license, nor the equality which brings with it neither good manners nor good morals, nor the vast material progress which occupies the energies of her people, to the exclusion of more elevating pursuits. There are moreover griefs connected with the United States which come peculiarly home to British interests and prejudices; the existence of slavery, for instance, in its most revolting form, in direct opposition to the spirit of their institutions, and to the very letter of that celebrated declaration which is the basis of all their governments; the repudiation or non-payment of debts contracted for the purposes of public works, of which they are every day reaping the advantages; and the unprincipled invasion of our Canadian frontier by their citizens during the late disturbances in that colony. Within the last few months, more particularly, they have committed many and grievous offences against their own dignity, the peace of the world, and the interests of Britain. We have heard their chief magistrate defy Christendom, and inform the world that the American continent is, for the future, to be held as in fee-simple by the United States; we have seen Texas forcibly torn from feeble Mexico, and the negotiations on the subject of Oregon brought to a close by a formal declaration, that the American title to the whole of it is "clear and unquestionable." They have displayed, in the conduct of their foreign relations during the past year, a vulgar indifference to the opinion of mankind, and an overweening estimate of their own power, which it is at once ludicrous and painful to behold. Nor is there reason to believe that these blots on the escutcheon of a nation, so young and so unembarrassed, are either deeply regretted or will be speedily effaced. We see no reaction of national virtue against national wrongdoing. For the cause of this great Republic is not, as in other countries, dependent upon the will of the one man, or the few men, who are charged with the functions of government, but on the will of the great mass of the people, deliberately and frequently expressed. The rule of the majority is in America no fiction, but a practical reality; and the folly or wisdom, the justice or injustice of her public acts, may, in ordinary times, be assumed as fair exponents of the average good sense and morals of the bulk of her citizens.

We are not of those who charge the democratic institutions of the United States as a crime upon their people, or who think that, in separating themselves from the British crown, they were guilty of a deliberate wickedness which has yet to be expiated. Whether that separation was fully justified by the circumstances of the time, is a question upon which we do not propose to enter: but having so separated, it does not appear that any course was left open to them but that which they have pursued. Through the negligence of the mother country, no pains had been taken to plant even the germs of British institutions in her American colonies, and the War of Independence found them already in possession of all, and more than all, of the democratic elements of our constitution; while the feeling of personal attachment to the sovereign had died out through distance and neglect, and the influence of the aristocracy and the church was altogether unknown. Even in Virginia, where, in consequence of the existence of domestic slavery on a large scale, and the laws of primogeniture and entail, a certain aristocratical feeling had sprung up, a jealousy of the British crown and parliament showed itself from first to last, at least as strongly as elsewhere; and the ink of the Declaration of Independence was scarcely dry, before those laws of property were repealed, and every vestige of an Established Church swept away. Nothing then remained, in the absence of Conservative principles and traditions, but to construct their government upon the broadest basis of Democracy; accordingly, the triumph of that principle was complete from the first. The genius of progressive democracy may have removed some of the slender barriers with which it has found itself accidentally embarrassed; but it has not been able to add any thing to the force of those pithy abstractions which were endorsed by the most respectable chiefs of the Revolution, and which remain to sanctify its wildest aspirations.

All men, therefore, in America--that is, all _white_ men--are "free and equal;" and every thing that has been done in her political world for the last half century has gone to illustrate and carry out this somewhat intractable hypothesis. Upon this principle, the vote of John Jacob Astor, with his twenty-five millions of dollars, is neutralized by that of the Irish pauper just cast upon its shores. The _millionaire_ counts one, and so does the dingy unit of Erin, though the former counts for himself, and the latter for his demagogue and his priest. The exclusion of women and negroes from this privilege remains, it is true, a _hiatus valde deflendus_ by the choicer spirits of the democracy. It is thought, however, that the system will shortly be completed by the addition of these new constellations. At this moment, in prospect of a convention to re-tinker the constitution, two agitations are going on in the state of New York--one to secure the "Political Rights of Women;" the other to extend those which negroes, under certain grievous restrictions, already enjoy. The theory of virtual representation has been held up to these two classes of citizens with as little success as to our own Radicals. Both negroes and women throw themselves upon the broad fact of their common humanity, and indignantly demand wherefore a black skin or a gentle sex should disqualify their possessors from the exercise of the dearest privilege of freemen.

Now, however absurd this system may appear to us in the abstract, and however strongly we should resist its application to our own political case, we believe, as we said before, that the Americans have no choice in the matter but to make it work as well as possible, and that it is for the interest of the world, as well as for their own, that it should so work. The preservation of peace, and our commercial relations with the United States, are far more important to us than the triumph of an idea. We are quite content, if they will permit us, to remain on the best of terms with our transatlantic descendants, and to see them happy and prosperous in their own way. We even think it fortunate for mankind that the principle of self-government is being worked out in that remote region, and under the most favourable circumstances, in order that the civilized world may take note thereof, and guide itself accordingly. It is, we know, a favourite theme with their demagogues, that the glory and virtue and happiness of Yankee-doodle-doo have inspired the powers of the rotten Old World with the deepest jealousy and hatred, and that every crown in Europe pales before the lustre of that unparalleled confederacy. Nothing can be wider of the truth, pleasing as the illusion may be to the self-love of the most vainglorious people under the sun. The _prestige_ which America and her institutions once undoubtedly enjoyed in many parts of Europe is rapidly fading away, as each successive post brings fresh evidence of her vices and her follies. We can, indeed, recollect a time when the example of the model Republic was held up for admiration in the most respectable quarters, and was the trump-card at every gathering of Radical reformers. But now the scene is changed--now, "none so poor to do her reverence." Even Chartist and Suffrage-men, Mr Miall and the Northern Star, have at last

---- "forgot to speak
That once familiar word."

They turn from her, and pass away as gingerly as the chorus in the Greek play from the purlieus of those ominous goddesses--

[Greek: as tremomen legein
chai parameibometh
aderchtos aphotos]--

Mr O'Connell himself can find no room in his capacious affections for men who repudiate their debts, burn convents, "mob the finest pisantry," and keep a sixth of their population in chains in the name of liberty!

If "the great unwashed" on the other side of the Atlantic, will only consent to send men to their councils of moderately pure hearts and clean hands, they may rest assured that any conspiracy which the united powers of kings, nobles, and priests may devise against them, will take little by its motion. But they do just the reverse, as we shall presently show. The profligacy of their public men is proverbial throughout the states; and the coarse avidity with which they bid against each other for the petty spoils of office, is quite incomprehensible to an European spectator. To "make political capital," as their slang phrase goes, for themselves or party, the most obvious policy of the country is disregarded, the plainest requirements of morality and common sense set aside, and the worst impulses of the people watched, waited on, and stimulated into madness. To listen to the debates in Congress, one would think the sole object of its members in coming together, was to make themselves and their country contemptible. Owing to the rantings of this august body, and the generally unimportant character of the business brought before it, little is known of its proceedings in Europe except through the notices of some passing traveller. But its shame does not consist merely or chiefly in the occasional bowie-knife or revolver produced to clinch the argument of some ardent Western member, nor even in the unnoted interchange of compliments not usually current amongst gentlemen. Much more deplorable is the low tone of morality and taste which marks their proceedings from first to last, the ruffian-like denunciations, the puerile rants, the sanguinary sentiments poured forth day by day without check or censure. This is harsh language, but they shall be judged out of their own mouths. We have before us a file of the _Congressional Globe_, the official record of the debates in both Houses, extending from December 12 to January 15. During this period the Oregon question was called up nearly every day, and we propose to give some specimens, _verbatim et literatim_, of the spirit in which it has been discussed. We shall give notices of the speakers and their constituents as we go along, to show that the madness is not confined to one particular place or party, but is common to Whig and Democrat, to the representatives of the Atlantic as well as of the Western states. Most of our European readers will, we think, agree with us, that, considering the entire absence of provocation, and the infinitely trivial nature of the matter in dispute, these rhetorical flourishes are without parallel in the history of civilized senates.

What is commonly called Oregon, is a strip of indifferent territory betwixt the Rocky Mountains and the Pacific Ocean. It is separated from both the American and British possessions by an arid wilderness of great extent, or by many thousands of miles of tempestuous navigation, _via_ Cape Horn. Since 1818, the claims of both parties to this region have been allowed to lie in abeyance under a convention of joint occupancy, if the advantages enjoyed in common by a handful of traders and trappers of both nations can be so called. The settlers from both countries are still numbered by hundreds, and the soil is very ill adapted to agricultural purposes; in short, it is the last thing in the world that a decent nation would get into a passion about. Still, as the previous administration had gained much glory by completing the robbery of Texas from Mexico, Mr Polk has thought fit to illustrate his by an attempt to squeeze and bully the sterner majesty of England. Accordingly, in his message, he boasts of having offered less favourable terms than his predecessors; and these being of course rejected, retires with dignity upon the completeness of the American title, and intimates that the time is at hand when the rights of his country must be asserted, if necessary, by the sword. All this is new light to all the parties concerned; this tempest in a tea-pot is of Mr Polk's own particular brewing; the real Oregon being a little political capital, as aforesaid, for himself. So far he has been eminently successful, for the fierce democracy howls forth its applause upon the floor of Congress, in manner and form as followeth:--

Mr Cass, _Democratic_ senator from Michigan, an _insolvent_ western state, opened the ball on the 12th of December. He is said to aspire to the presidential chair, and is already a full general of militia. We give him his civil title, however, because we find him so set down in the _Globe_, which knows best what the military one is worth. There is nothing remarkable in his speech, except the fuss which he makes about national honour. He may find it lying in the ditch, much nearer home than Oregon--

"As to receding, it is neither to be discussed nor thought of. I
refer to it but to denounce it--a denunciation which will find a
response in every American bosom. Nothing is ever gained by
national pusillanimity. The country which seeks to purchase
temporary security by yielding to unjust pretensions, buys present
ease at the expense of permanent honour and safety. It sows the
wind to reap the whirlwind. I have said elsewhere what I repeat
here, that it is better to fight for the first inch of national
territory than for the last. It is better to defend the doorsill
than the hearth-stone--the porch than the altar. _National
character is a richer treasure than gold or silver_, and exercises
a moral influence in the hour of danger, which, if not power
itself, is it surest ally. _Thus far ours is untarnished!_" &c.

This statement of the relative value of "national character" as compared with the precious metals, will be very edifying to the creditors of Michigan.

Mr Serier, _Democratic_ senator from Arkansas, another _insolvent_ western state, is a still richer representative of the majesty of the American senate. This state is the headquarters of the bowie-knife, revolver, and Judge Lynch _regime_, and Mr S.'s education in these particulars does not appear to have been neglected.

"It has been her (Great Britain's) bullying that has secured for
her the respect of all Europe. _She is a court-house bully; and in
her bullying, in my opinion, lies all her strength._ Now, she must
be forced to recede; and _like any of our western bullies, who,
when once conquered, can be kicked by every body, from one end of
the country to the other_, England will, in case she do not recede
from her position on this question, receive once more that salutary
lesson which we have on more than one occasion already taught her."
* * "I should like very much indeed to hear any one _get on the
stump_, in my part of the country, sir, and undertake to tell us
that the President had established our claims to Oregon, and made
it as plain as the avenue leading to the White House; but inasmuch
as there is great danger that Great Britain may capture our ships,
and burn our cities and towns, it is very improper for us to give
notice that we will insist upon our claim. _I need hardly say that
such a one, if he could be found, would be summarily treated as a
traitor to his country._" * * * *

No doubt of it. Furthermore, Mr Serier cannot think of arbitration, because--

"When I see such billing and cooing betwixt France and England, and
when I think the Emperor of Russia may not desire to have so near
his territory a set of men who read _Paine's Rights of Man_, and
whistle 'Yankee doodle,' I feel disposed to settle the matter at
once by force of gunpowder. I consider the President acted
wisely--very wisely--in keeping the case in its present position,
and in giving intimation of taking possession after twelve months'
notice, and then to hold it. Yes, sir, to hold it by the force of
that rascally influence called gunpowder. That's my opinion. These
are plain common-sense observations which I have offered."

What a love of a senator! We put it to the House of Lords--have they any thing to show like unto this nobleman of the woods?--We will now, with the permission of our readers, introduce them for a few moments to the House of Representatives. Mr Douglas, a _Democratic_ representative from Illinois, another _insolvent_ western state, wants to know why Great Britain should not be bullied as well as Mexico.

"He did hope that there would be no dodging on this Oregon
question. Yes; that there would be no dodging on the Oregon
question; that there would be no delay. There was great
apprehension of war here last year--but of war with Mexico instead
of Great Britain; and they had found men brave, and furious in
their bravery, in defying Mexico and her allies, England and
France, who now had an awful horror in prospect of a war with Great
Britain. He (Mr D.) had felt pretty brave last year with reference
to Mexico and her allies, and he felt equally so now. He believed
if we wished to avoid a war upon this Oregon question, _the only
way we could avoid it was preparing to give them the best fight we
had on hand_. The contest would be a bloodless one; we should avoid
war, for the reason that Great Britain knows too well: if she had
war about Oregon, farewell to her Canada."

Our next extract will be from the speech of Mr Adams, a _Whig_ representative from, we regret to say, Massachusetts, which is in every respect the pattern state of the Union. We are willing to believe that in this single case the orator does not represent the feelings of the majority of his constituents. Mr Adams has filled the Presidential chair, and other high offices; and, while secretary of state, permitted himself to say on a public occasion, that the madness of George the Third was a divine infliction for the course that monarch had pursued towards the United States. The ruling passions of his life are said to be, hatred to England and to his southern brethren; and he thinks that war would gratify both these malignant crotchets at once, as the former would, in that contingency, lose Canada, and the latter their slaves. He urges that notice to terminate the convention of joint occupation should be given, and then observes--

"We would only say to Great Britain, after negotiating twenty odd
years under that convention, we do not choose to negotiate any
longer in this way. We choose to take possession of our own, and
then, if we have to settle what is our own, or whether any portion
belongs to you, we may negotiate. _We might negotiate after taking
possession. That was the military way of doing business. It was the
way in which Frederick II. of Prussia had negotiated with the
Emperor of Austria for Silesia._ [Here Mr A. gave an account of the
interview of Frederick the Great with the Austrian minister, and of
the fact of Frederick having sent his troops to take possession of
that province the very day that he had sent his minister to Vienna
to negotiate for it.] Then we should have our elbows clear, and
could do as we pleased. It did not follow as a necessary
consequence that we should take possession; but he hoped it would
follow as a consequence, and a very immediate one. But whether we
give the notice or not, it did not necessarily draw after it
hostility or war. If Great Britain chose to take it as an
indication of hostility, and then to commence hostilities, why, we
had been told that there would be but one heart in this country;
and God Almighty grant that it might be so! If this war come--which
God forbid! and of which, by the way, he had no apprehension
whatever--he hoped the whole country would go into it with one
heart and one mighty hand; and, if that were done, he presumed the
question between us and Great Britain would not last long, neither
Oregon, nor any country north of this latitude would long remain to
Great Britain. Strong as was his moral aversion to war, modern war
and military establishments, then, if he should have the breath of
life at the time when the war commences, he hoped he should be able
and willing to go as far in any sacrifices necessary to make the
war successful, as any member of that house. He could say no more."

This profligate drivel is uttered by the Nestor of the commonwealth, an infirm old man, with one foot in the grave. In order, however, to make the course pursued by this gentleman and the next speaker intelligible to the English reader, we may explain that, by the annexation of Texas, the Southern States have a majority of votes in Congress; the Northern States are therefore indifferent about war for Oregon, and the abolitionists among them frantic for it, in order that their domestic balance of power may be restored. Mr Giddings, a _Whig_ representative from Ohio, and a red-hot abolitionist, indulges in the following most wicked and treasonable remarks:--

"This policy of adding territory to our original government is the
offspring of the south. They have forced it upon the northern
democracy. Their objects and ends are now answered. Texas is
admitted. They have now attained their object, and now require the
party to face about--to stop short, and leave the power of the
nation in their hands. _They now see before them the black
regiments of the West India islands landed on their shores. They
now call to mind the declarations of British statesmen, that a war
with the United States will be a war of emancipation. They now see
before them servile insurrections which torment their imaginations;
murder, rapine, and bloodshed, now dance before their affrighted
visions. Well, sir, I say to them, this is your policy, not mine.
You have prepared the cup, and I will press it to your lips till
the very dregs shall be drained. Let no one misunderstand me. Let
no one say I desire a slave insurrection; but, sir, I doubt not
that hundreds of thousands of honest and patriotic hearts will
laugh at your calamity, and mock when your fear cometh. No, sir;
should a servile insurrection take place, should massacre and blood
mark the footsteps of those who have for ages been oppressed--my
prayer to God shall be that justice--stern, unalterable
justice--may be awarded to the master and the slave!" ... "A war
with England in the present state of the two nations must
inevitably place in our possession the Canadas, Nova Scotia, and
New Brunswick. Six states will be added to the northern portion of
the union, to restore the balance of power to the Free States.... I
demand of you not to leave the nation in its present state of
subjugation to the south. I will vote to give you the means of
doing so," &c._

We hold up the ferocious cant of this mock philanthropist to the scorn of all good men, whether in Europe or America. So, because "the domestic institution" of his happy land is not to the taste of this Giddings, thousands of white men are to imbrue their hands in each other's blood, and England, the great champion of the negro race, at her own expense, is to be driven by force of arms out of Oregon. It is consoling, however, to find at last by their own confession, that there is a weak place--and a very weak one too--in "the area of freedom."

Besides the acquisition of Canada, which is put down on all hands as a "gone 'coon," other brilliant results are to ensue from the possession of Oregon. Mr Ingersoll, (_Whig_,) "a drab-coloured man" from Pennsylvania--"flattered himself that two years would not elapse before the Chinese and Japanese--sober, industrious, and excellent people--would be attracted there to settle. It was only a short voyage across the Pacific Ocean. Millions of those starving workmen who, in point of sobriety, industry, and capacity, were among the best in the world--workmen from every isle in the Pacific--men able to outwork the English, would flock there."

In the same fine strain of prophecy, Mr Darragh, another "_drab_" of the _Democratic_ school, observes--

"He was one of those who believed that there were men now here, who
might yet live to see a continuous railroad extending from the
mouth of the Columbia to the Atlantic. The country would soon be
filled with a dense population, and would eventually control the
China trade, and affect the whole commerce of the Pacific. He
trusted in God there would be a beginning of this end. He trusted
that this government would say to the despotisms of Europe--Stay on
your own side of the water, and do not attempt to intermeddle with
the balance of power on this continent. He believed it to be the
design of God that our free institutions, or institutions like
ours, should eventually cover this whole continent--a consummation
which could not but affect every part of the world, and the
prospect of which ought to fill with joy the heart of every
philanthropic man!"

But it won't till you've paid your debts, O Darragh!

Mr Baker, (_Whig_,) another _insolvent_ from Illinois, is very rich and rapacious--

"He (Mr B.) went for the whole of Oregon; for every grain of sand
that sparkled in her moonlight, and every pebble on its wave-worn
strand. It was ours--all ours; ours by treaty, ours by
discovery.... There was such a thing as destiny for this American
race--a destiny that would yet appear upon the great chart of
human history. It was already fulfilling, and that was a reason why
we could now refuse to Great Britain that which we had offered her
in 1818 and 1824. Reasons existed now in our condition, which did
not exist then. Who at that time could have divined that our
boundary was to be extended to the Rio del Norte, if not to
Zacatecas, to Potosi, to California? No, we had a destiny, and Mr
B. felt it." ... "Cuba was the tongue which God had placed in the
Gulf of Mexico to dictate commercial law to all who sought the
Carribbean Sea. And England was not to be allowed to take Cuba or
hold Oregon, _because we, the people of the United States, had
spread, were spreading, and intend to spread, and should spread,
and go on to spread_!" ... "Mr Speaker, if from this claim an echo
shall come back, it may not come from Oregon, but it will come from
the Canadas. Sir, it will be 'the last echo of a host o'erthrown.'
The British power will be swept from this continent for ever, and
though she may, 'like the sultan sun, struggle upon the fiery verge
of heaven,' she must yield at last to the impulses of freedom, and
to the touch of that destiny which shall crush her power in the
western hemisphere!"

This may be considered bad to beat; yet, in our opinion, a choice spirit from Missouri, SIMS by name, does it--

"It is so common on this floor, for inexperienced members to make
apologies for their embarrassment, that I will not offer any for
mine. I find some difficulty in getting along with all the
questions that may be raised by the north or by the south, and by
lawyers, and by metaphysicians, and learned doctors who abound
here, that I shall be slow in getting along. I hope, therefore,
that gentlemen will keep cool, and suffer me to get through." ...

Certainly, Sims--there is no false modesty, you will observe, in this good Sims. He thus defines his position.

"I wish it to be distinctly understood what banner I fight under.
_It is for Oregon, all or none, now or never!_ Not only _I myself_,
but all my own people whom I represent, will stand up to this
motto. Around that will we rally, and for it will we fight, _till
the British lion shall trail in the dust. The lion has cowered
before us before. Talk of whipping this nation?_ Though not, sir,
brought up in the tented field, nor accustomed to make war an
exercise, and do not so much thirst for martial renown as to desire
to witness such a war, yet I cannot fear it, nor doubt its
success."

A touching episode in the life of Sims!--

"When I was a boy, sir--a small boy--in 1815, I was with my father
in church where he was offering his prayers to the Almighty, and it
was then that the news of the victory of New Orleans was brought to
the spot. _I never felt so happy, sir, as at that moment._ At that
moment my love of country commenced, and from that hour it has
increased more and more every year; and I shall be ever ready to
peril every thing in my power for the good of my country. Still, _I
am for the whole of Oregon, and for nothing else but the whole, and
in defence of it I will willingly see every river, from its
mountain source to the ocean, reddened with the blood of the
contest. Talk about this country being whipped! The thing is
impossible! Why did not Great Britain whip us long ago, if she
could?_" * * * * * * "I shall lose as much as any one in a war--_I
do not mean in property_--but I have a wife and children, and I
love them with all the heart and soul that I possess. No one can
love his family more than I do mine unless a stronger intellect may
give him more strength of affection; and my family will be exposed
to the merciless savages, who will as ever become the allies of
Great Britain in any war. But still, sir, my people on the frontier
will press on to the mouth of the Columbia, and fight for Oregon.
_I am not sure but I will go myself._"

The feelings of the female Sims, and all the little Simses, on reading that last sentence! We shudder to think of it. Sims, however, has made up his mind that the exploit is no great matter after all.

"It was said that the route to Oregon was impracticable, and that
it was beset with dangerous enemies, and that we could not send
troops over to Oregon, nor provisions to feed them. _Now, sir, we
of Missouri can fit out ten thousand waggon-loads of provisions for
Oregon, and ten thousand waggon-boys to drive them, who, with their
waggon-whips, will beat and drive off all the British and Indians
that they find in their way._"

The peroration of this harangue is, perhaps, the funniest part of it all, but want of space compels us to omit it. We let Sims drop with great reluctance, and pass over several minor luminaries who are quite unworthy to follow in his wake. Now, ladies and gentlemen, we are about to introduce to you Mr Kennedy, a _Democratic_ representative from Indiana--a _very insolvent_ Western state, and a celebrated "British or any other lion" tamer.

"Sir, (says Mr K.,) when the British lion, or any other lion, lies
down in our path, we will not travel round the world in blood and
fire, but will make him leave that lair." * * * *

After this mysterious announcement, he enquires--

"Shall we pause in our career, or retrace our steps, because the
British lion has chosen to place himself in our path? Has our blood
already become so pale, that we should tremble at the roar of the
king of beasts? We will not go out of our way to seek a conflict
with him; but if he cross our path, and refuses to move at a
peaceful command, _he will run his nose on the talons of the
American eagle, and his blood will spout as from a harpooned whale.
The spectators who look on the struggle may prepare to hear a
crash, as if the very ribs of nature had broke!_" ...

Once more into the lion--or lioness--for it does not appear exactly which this time!

"We are one people and one country, and have one interest and one
destiny, which, if we live up to, _though it may not free us to
follow the British lion round the world in blood and slaver_, will
end in _her_ expulsion from this continent, which _he_ rests not
upon but to pollute!"

Mr Kennedy's solicitude for the rising generation is very touching--

"Where shall we find room for all our people, unless we have
Oregon? What shall we do with all those little white-headed boys
and girls--God bless them!--that cover the Mississippi valley, as
the flowers cover the western prairies?"

In order to show the truly awful and more than Chinese populousness of this ancient State of Indiana, which was admitted into the Union so long ago as 1816, we may observe that its superficial extent is thirty-six thousand square miles, or twenty-three millions and forty thousand acres. The population in 1840, black and white all told, amounted to the astounding number of six hundred and eighty-five thousand eight hundred and sixty-six, or about one-third of that of London! The adjoining states of Illinois and Missouri are still less densely peopled.

Mr Kennedy's opinions touching the British government--

"Cannibal-like, it fed one part of its subjects upon the other. She
drinks the blood and sweat, and tears the sinews of its labouring
millions to feed a miserable aristocracy. England is now seen
standing in the twilight of her glory; but a sharp vision may see
written upon her walls, the warning that Daniel interpreted for the
Babylonish king--'Mene, mene, tekel, upharsin!'"

We cannot help the confusion of genders. It's so writ down in the _Globe_, as are all our quotations--_verbatim_. Here comes a fine "death or glory" blast--

"Why is it that, after all, we should so dread the shock of war? We
all have to die, whether in our beds or in the battle-field. _Who
of you all, when roused by the clangour of Gabriel's trump, would
not rather appear in all the bloom of youth, bearing upon your
front the scar of the death-wound received in defence of your
country's right, than with the wrinkled front of dishonoured age?_"

Hoorra!--Only one more quotation from Kennedy, and that because it permits us to take a last fond look at Sims, who re-appears, for a moment, like a meteor on the scene of his past glories!

"Was it not a burning, blistering, withering shame that the cross
of St George should be found _floating_ on American _soil_?" [Here
Mr L. H. SIMS exclaimed, "Yes, and it will blister on our foreheads
like the mark of Cain!"]

Mr Hamlin, a Democratic representative from Maine, one of the pattern New England states, is not far behind his Western brethren--