Chapter III: Part 3

"This was merely the commencement of hostilities. The crown party, though defeated, were very soon in a condition to renew the contest; and though this victory to the popular cause brought a great increase of strength, it did not save its partizans from being defeated with immense slaughter in the next battle that was fought. For several years a destructive civil war raged with unexampled ferocity in every part of the kingdom; sometimes one party being the strongest, sometimes the other. Every individual capable of bearing arms was obliged to join either the cause of the king or that of the people; and, as a great diversity of opinion existed, brothers were set against brothers, and fathers against sons, and thousands and tens of thousands of the bravest of her citizens daily were cast into pits to feed the worms of the soil of England. At last the popular cause triumphed, and the King became a fugitive. Loud were the congratulations of the victors when no doubt seemed to remain of their success; but they had little cause for their joy--they had only changed a bad ruler for a worse.

"The triumphant party now sought out such of their fellow-citizens who had most distinguished themselves by their hostility to their progress during the late warfare; and they who did not succeed in escaping were persecuted and exterminated in every way that vengeance could devise. Blood continued to flow, and hatred and strife still existed. The leading men among them had scarcely settled themselves in their authority, before they began to differ concerning their notions of government. Some were for one form and some for another, and each had his own theory to support or his own ambition to gratify. The difference soon increased to open hostility; and as each was supported by a numerous band of partizans, each strove for the mastery with all the cunning and boldness he possessed. Battles were again fought--victims were again sacrificed. Party succeeded party; and as one overpowered the other, the vanquished were sure to be massacred if they remained within the power of their conquerors.

"But the cause of the king was considered the cause of all kings; and while the different leaders of the people seemed intent only upon exterminating each other, a powerful armament was being fitted out in a neighbouring kingdom for the purpose of restoring the deposed monarch to his possessions. The first intimation that the ruling government had of this expedition was derived from its landing upon the coast; and the necessity of an immediate union between all parties against the common enemy became so evident, that they lost no time in settling their differences, joining their disposable forces, and making preparations to resist the approaches of their expelled sovereign. Numbers, who had suffered from the oppressions of the many, now hastened to the king's standard. The loyal came from their hiding places, and those who had fled to the neighbouring continent hurried back again to share in the struggle. The battle-cry of one was, 'God and the King'--that of the other, 'God and the People;' and, with increased animosity, the contending armies rushed to the conflict, till the whole country seemed flowing with blood.

"At first the king was successful in almost every encounter with his rebellious subjects. Battle after battle was fought, and still he kept advancing and triumphing on his way. But the leaders of the people did not despair. They carried on the contest with the same spirit notwithstanding their defeats. The whole population rose in arms. No sooner was one army dispersed than another was ready for action. Three times the court party took possession of the capital, and were again driven out. The contest was prolonged by the military genius of one man, whose mind seemed exhaustless in resources. He had risen from obscurity, and had gradually exalted himself from one command to another during the civil war, till the whole forces on the side of the people were at his disposal. Success appeared to attend all his efforts. As he in his own person exhibited the most determined bravery, his followers were stimulated to copy his example. The most daring attacks were planned and executed, and the royalists began to lose all the advantages they had previously gained. It was the intention of the popular general to terminate the contest at a blow; and with this object in view he concentrated all his forces, and unexpectedly brought them upon the enemy's camp. The royalists were taken quite unprepared, and few escaped to announce their defeat. The king, the nobles, the foreign troops, and a great portion of their native allies perished in one indiscriminate slaughter; and thus the hopes of the loyal were utterly annihilated for the time.

"As every man was obliged to join one or the other party, I had my share in these struggles for mastery. I had inherited a small patrimony in one of the inland counties, and I had recently married a young and beautiful relative, to whom I had been attached from my youth, when I was first called upon to contribute my assistance towards bringing the contest to a termination. I was an ardent lover of liberty. I was a great advocate for republics, and I had long looked upon kings as expensive and useless machines, which the people could easily spare. It may easily be imagined, from my acknowledgement of these sentiments, that I eagerly embraced the popular cause. I mixed myself up as little as possible with the squabbles of partizans; but there were few more sincere adherents to the principles I professed than myself. I was present at nearly all the great engagements, received several wounds, and gradually acquired rank and experience in the republican army. My superior officers respected me, and the men under my command were attentive and obedient.

"After the destruction of the royalists, the people were so frantic in praise of their leader that he thought he might be allowed to assume the sovereign power. He did so, amid the acclamations of the multitude; and in six months after was assassinated. No sooner was his decease known than there rose the same intrigues for supremacy that his master mind had quelled. Party succeeded party, and government followed government, in rapid succession; and the gibbet and the axe were in constant requisition by whatever party happened to be in power. As if it was determined that this unhappy nation should enjoy no respite from its troubles, the son of the late king, assuming the royal dignity, had succeeded in inducing a foreign power to grant such assistance as might be required to reinstate him in the throne of his fathers. He landed on the English coast with a large army of foreigners, and advanced in a very imposing manner towards the ancient metropolis. The government had no force sufficient to dispute his progress, and fancying itself unable to struggle successfully against the army brought against it, it took the dangerous resolution of inviting to its assistance the monarch of a neighbouring and powerful kingdom. While this was being done the young king marched forward, meeting with very little opposition till he came within a few miles of the metropolitan city. There the leaders of the people had taken up a strong position, and although they were inferior to the royalists in number and soldiership, and had not yet received the expected succours from the foreign power, they determined to dispute the passage with the royalists. The battle was long and sanguinary. The people, favoured by their position, quietly awaited the attack of their opponents, and as they advanced, poured into their ranks a heavy and destructive fire; but although they fought in the most steady and heroic manner, the superiority of the enemy in numbers and discipline was too great to be counteracted by the most steady courage. The republicans were driven from their position, and defeated with great slaughter; after which the young monarch marched into the ancient city, of which he took possession. It was at first resolved to renew the fight in the streets of the metropolis; but dissension and ill-will arose in their councils, and nothing being resolved on, the popular army retreated from the city, leaving it open to the advance of the royalists.

"The young king, fancying that all opposition had ceased, or that the defeated party could not now offer him any molestation, passed his time in getting up the idle ceremonies of a coronation; but the leaders of the people were preparing to recommence the struggle. A powerful army from the monarch who had promised them assistance, had landed, and such good use did they make of their time, that the young king was obliged to leave the metropolis in the very midst of his coronation. Then again the horrors of civil war broke out with fresh fury. As each party was assisted by foreign allies, the war was never left to languish. Reinforcements were continually being poured into the kingdom, and the ranks of the opposing armies, thus strengthened, were led against each other, and fiercer and more relentless became the strife. Blood flowed like water, and flesh was cut down like grass. Villages were deserted--towns burnt--cities depopulated. Whether by design or accident is not known, but it was found out that in all engagements the inhabitants suffered infinitely more than their foreign auxiliaries. At every battle the fields were strewn with their dead, while the loss of their allies was but trifling.

"After the war had been protracted till there scarcely seemed materials left in the kingdom to continue it, the king's party were completely annihilated, and the foreign troops that had assisted them were glad to make their escape out of the country. The allies which the leaders of the people had called to their assistance, had been gradually augmented until they had become an exceedingly numerous and powerful body, and when the war was over, it was the anxious desire of the people to get rid of them as soon as possible. But their friends were not so easily to be disposed of. On different pretexts they protracted their stay till they had obtained possession of nearly all the strong places in the empire, and then they not only refused to depart, but commenced a war of extermination on the people they came to protect. For this treachery the inhabitants were but ill prepared. The greater portion of the English army had been disbanded, and the rest were insignificant in comparison with the new enemy against which they were called to act. The consequence was, that for a considerable time the foreign army passed from one part of the island to the other, burning and destroying whatever they met with, without meeting any resistance.

"A force was hastily organised for the purpose of driving these treacherous friends out of the country. The old and young of all parties and opinions rushed to the national standard with the hope of freeing their native land from foreign rule. A battle ensued. Nothing could exceed the desperate bravery of my countrymen; but the discipline of their enemy was not to be resisted. The people were slaughtered in multitudes, and I, who commanded one of the wings of the army on that occasion, was the only general officer who retreated from the field with anything like a respectable body of men. We were attacked as we retreated by a force greatly our superior; but I continued to show a resolute front, beat off the assailants, and maintained a successful fight. I succeeded in placing my men within the shelter of impregnable walls.

"The people had by this time become sick of war. Thirty years of continued bloodshed had done destructive work all over the country. The population had been greatly reduced; agriculture had been neglected; commerce was rapidly decaying; manufactures had been destroyed; all the resources of industry had been annihilated; poverty, misery, and ruin existed throughout the land. The people sued for peace. The enemy sent back a message:--it was, 'England must be destroyed;' and still they continued their relentless work of pillage, burning, and slaughter. But the spirit of the nation was not utterly broken. They still waged a defensive and offensive war whenever there was an opportunity of doing so with advantage. Every small party of the enemy were cut off, stragglers killed wherever met with, and their army harassed in every way that hatred and ingenuity could devise. Bands of well-armed Englishmen, from fifty to a thousand in number, under separate and independent leaders, surprised positions, destroyed convoys, and cut off supplies. A new plan of warfare was now attempted, which, although destructive to the country, was found a most effective means of expelling the invaders. This was, wherever the enemy approached, to burn the dwellings, and to move or destroy every kind of provision.

"About this period, there appeared amongst the crowd of wretched beings who congregated the cities, a new and malignant epidemic. How it first originated was a mystery. It came, and none knew from what cause. Its fatal character was soon proved. At first, the people died in tens and twenties, then they perished by hundreds, and then thousands fell victims to its malignity. The rich fled from their town houses into the country, carrying with them the very infection from which they were flying, and in a short time it penetrated into the most remote corner of the kingdom. Where the population had not been extensive, there were not left enough to bury the dead. In some rural districts they died, and none knew of their decease. It attacked all constitutions with the same violence: the old, the young, the strong and the weak, were its continual victims. The rich were as much subject to its ravages as the poor. There was no condition or class of society in which the disease did not enter and carry off the majority of its members.

"The system which had been pursued, chiefly under my direction, against the enemy, gave them considerable annoyance; but still the inhabitants generally would have done anything to have purchased the blessings of peace. Again was the boon sued for, and the reply was, 'You haughty islanders have continued too long to lord it over the world. We have been your victims many a time; but now you shall be ours--England must be destroyed.' They might have triumphed over our hostility; they might, by keeping up a communication with their ships, continue to have supplies of provision and forage independent of the country; but they saw that they could not escape the plague: and, after effecting all the mischief they could produce, they hastened to their vessels, and sailed from the pestilential shores they had come to conquer.

"I had not mingled in the sufferings of my country without having to endure my own share. I had found my home burnt to the ground, and my wife sacrificed in the flames. Three of my sons had died fighting by my side. But worse suffering was now in store for me: the plague was amongst us. I had used every precaution to prevent the infection spreading among my relatives. I had retired to a dwelling up a steep mountain in the west, and there I resided with my children and their families. There were four of my sons, strong, robust men, well inured to all the dangers of war; and there were their wives, all of healthy constitutions, and their children, of different ages, every one full of health and spirits. With these were my two daughters, with their husbands and families, none of whom were touched by the slightest illness. One morning I was congratulating them upon the beneficial effect of my regulations to prevent the spread of the infection, and the mothers looked at their children and the husbands on their wives, and I gazed on all, with a delight we found to be unspeakable. In less than a week I had buried them all but one."

Here the old man's voice sunk, and he appeared to be powerfully agitated. No one attempted an observation; and after making a strong effort to recover his self-possession, he continued.

"The survivor was a boy of ten years of age; he was one of the few whom the plague had touched and spared. Me it had passed by harmless. But the destruction caused by the pestilence exceeded all calculation. As in my case, whole families were carried off, and districts entirely depopulated. The pits that were dug to throw in the dead were quickly filled, and none were strong enough to dig others. The dead cart stood in the street with its load piled up; for both the driver and the horse had been destroyed by the pestilence. Physicians and surgeons appeared to have been the earliest of its victims. They came to visit their patients, and they died by the bedside. All remedies were tried without avail; all precautions were used, but they were equally useless. There were different opinions existing as to its origin. The royalists said that it was a punishment for the sins of the republicans; and the republicans retorted by proclaiming that it was a judgment on the profligacy of the royalists. Religious fanatics went running about the deserted streets, with streaming hair and blood-shot eyes, shouting out, in piercing tones, 'Wo! wo! the day of judgment is at hand!'"

This lasted for the better portion of a year; and, after putting the boy in a place of safety, when the pestilence was over, as I journeyed through the country to notice the effects it had produced, where I had once known crowded thoroughfares, I passed along without meeting a single inhabitant. The country appeared to have been completely unpeopled; and in the city, the few persons I met with only made the immense mortality which had existed appear more great. I inquired for the government, and found that not a trace of it was in existence. I asked for the army, and I was shown about a couple of hundred men. I called a meeting of the citizens in the metropolis, and they all came; and they filled a moderate sized room. I explained to them the deplorable state into which the plague had reduced the country, and I asked their counsel and assistance to form some sort of government to manage its affairs. There was a melancholy silence for some minutes. None attempted to speak. Their hearts seemed too full for utterance. At last one of the citizens ventured to wish that I would do what I thought best for the community; and I did do what I thought best. I travelled through every part of this once populous island to notice with my own eyes the exact state of the remaining population. Some cities I found deserted; in others two-thirds of their buildings were untenanted; the rank grass was growing in the public streets, and the gardens of the rich were filled with nettles.

"But the measure of afflictions for this unhappy country had not yet been filled up. No sooner had the pestilence abated, than another enemy, scarcely less dreadful, made its appearance. The continued ravages of war had prevented the tilling of the fields. No one would attempt to sow, knowing how insecure would be his ownership of the crop he might produce. There had been no grain, and no fruits, and no vegetables; and the cattle had died of the plague, or had been destroyed by the enemy. It was in vain attempting to get a supply from foreign countries. Our commerce had been destroyed, for no nation would hold communication with a people among whom raged so destructive a pestilence. They avoided the shores of England as if death was on its soil; and any vessel attempting to communicate with them, or to enter one of their ports, was fired at and sunk. The consequence was, our ships lay rotting in the docks, and their crews were either dead, or had dispersed over the island, and were not to be found. The terrific visitation of famine was now upon us. Every thing was eaten that the human stomach could be brought to swallow. Things the most loathsome to the taste, and offensive to the eyes, were readily and ravenously devoured. Then the cheek sunk; the eye-ball fell; the flesh dwindled away; and all crawled with half lifeless limbs in search of any substance that might lessen the cravings of their appetites. But at last every thing that was digestible disappeared, and the skeleton forms of the sufferers were stretched stiffly on the place where they fell--some in madness, some in despair, and all in agony and dread.

"There was no opportunity allowed me for legislating with any advantage. I thought of every plan that afforded the slightest assistance towards lessening the dreadful effects of the calamity which the whole country was enduring; but I met with no one to second my exertions. The few who retained the use of their faculties were feeble and emaciated. Famine was in their gaunt limbs, and despair upon their aching hearts. No one appeared inclined to pay the slightest attention to any thing but his own sufferings. There was no authority but that of the strong, and they who retained their physical power the longest, robbed the dying of such slight nourishment as they had acquired. The rich would bring out their treasures and offer them for a meal, and when some avaricious wretch was found to make the exchange, one more strong than either would come by, and wrest the food from the impoverished, and the wealth from the miser; and both died within the hour. The breast of the mother became dry, and the infant was abandoned to starve when it became an incumbrance to the famished parent. Cats, dogs, rats, mice, and every kind of animal, no matter how disgusting in its habits, had been greedily devoured; birds, fish, and insects, that had previously been considered loathsome, were sought after as delicacies; and weeds, roots, the leaves of trees, offal, and even many things still more objectionable, became the daily food of many who had been accustomed to the most luxurious fare.

"Finding that I could do no good among the scanty band of skeletons that clung to a lingering existence, I determined on endeavouring to make my way to the northern part of the island, where an industrious and hardy race had managed to retain their independence and prosperity during the wars, the pestilence, and the famine, that ravaged its southern portion. My grandson was too young to walk great distances; so, when he was tired, I placed him upon my shoulder, and thus we journeyed on our way. Our food was acorns, berries, roots, and leaves. Sometimes I was enabled to catch a fish, or a bird, or a small animal; but these were luxuries seldom to be enjoyed. We passed several parties apparently intent upon the same object as ourselves; but many were there of the groups who laid themselves down on the road-side weary and famishing, and there perished. Continually I came upon some individual made desperate by his hunger, scratching up the earth with his hands in search of the worms it contained, which, if found, were eaten with as much enjoyment as the most delicious meats, and if the search was fruitless, the dry soil was crammed into the mouth as a substitute. Very few of the travellers could have reached the end of their journey, for we continued to pass the dying and the dead as far as we proceeded. Sometimes a solitary wretch would be found prostrate at the foot of a tree, the bark of which he had evidently been gnawing; further on a family of children were discovered, with their little bodies shrunk to the bone, and the parents at a short distance, with their faces turned from them, as if they could not look upon their sufferings; and in another place, a lover and his mistress lay clasped in each other's fleshless arms.

"We were crossing an extensive and barren moor, when we came before a group of dead bodies, among which, to my exceeding astonishment, I beheld a child--a delicate girl of five or six years of age--busily occupied in chasing a butterfly. The scene was so extraordinary that I stood gazing on it for a considerable period before I could determine what to do. The insect's gaudy wings kept fluttering over the lifeless forms that were cold and stiff on the ground, sometimes alighting on a hand, sometimes on a face; and the child, in an ecstasy of delight, screaming, and laughing, and stretching out its little arms, pursued it from place to place. What a time was this for reflection! Here was life in the midst of death--the pursuit of pleasure among the most fatal and least endurable examples of pain. It was a wonderful sight! The girl seemed to know neither want nor sorrow; and continued her sport, indifferent to the spectral shapes that lay extended at her feet. Their ghastly stare, and gaunt visages, had no terrors for her. The hunt of the butterfly occupied all her thoughts, and the hope of attaining possession of its beautiful colours seemed the only desire entertained. After watching her movements with indescribable interest for several minutes, I advanced towards the child, and invited her to go with me. I had considerable difficulty to get her to leave the butterfly; and when I led her away from the spot, she chatted with infantile volubility, as if there was nothing else but the butterfly in the world.

"I found the people of the northern provinces hospitable, and with them I lived for nearly half a century. They escaped the ravages of the pestilence by not allowing any infected persons from the neighbouring counties, who crowded towards the borders, to enter into their territory. None had presented themselves during the prevalence of the famine but myself; and their own frugality saved them from the horrors which had desolated England. They looked upon the southern portion of the island as a doomed country, for although several parties from the north had gone there for the purpose of forming settlements, they either returned after a short stay, stating that neither cattle nor crops would nourish on the land, or were never more heard of, and were supposed to have fallen victims to the pirates who occasionally visited the coast. I passed my time in educating the two children of whom I had taken charge, and both made great progress under my instructions. The boy became a fine, active, intelligent man, the girl an admirable example of womankind; and as I found that their hearts were for each other, in due time I had them made man and wife. I have outlived them and all their progeny, with the exception of Lilya, whom, after the decease of her family, I took with me to England, having at the time an ardent desire to revisit its desolated shores.

"What I found England I need scarcely describe; you see it before you. It was a complete ruin. A sad and miserable remnant of her people did strive to till the land; but the soil refused to give sustenance to the seed, and the cultivator could gather nothing but a harvest of weeds. The earth was abandoned for the waters, and the farmers became fishermen; but the sea and the river gave an inadequate supply. One by one the inhabitants dropped off, till at last the only human creatures within the country were myself and Lilya. We managed to subsist by hunting and fishing. Our fare was not at all times very delicate, and was seldom very plentiful; but we provided for ourselves tolerably well. We were obliged to rely upon our own resources; for the savage appearance of the island, and the belief that it was doomed to destruction, prevented our being visited by any vessels from the continent; and even the pirates from the neighbouring islands, having found that the country contained nothing to tempt them to a visit, turned their attention to more opulent regions. Lilya and I, therefore, had the whole land to ourselves, and over it we held absolute sovereignty. Even the savage monsters of the forest appeared to acknowledge our supremacy, for none offered to molest us. We took our way through deserted piles and fallen monuments; and if we disturbed the lion in his lair, or the eagle in his eyrie, they made way for our approach, and returned to their haunts when we were gone.

"Thus passed the time. Lilya grew up as you see--a child of the forest, skilful in snaring game, and in preserving skins; affectionate in her manner, gentle in her temper, and shy as a dove in her nest. As for me, I was a wanderer over the lands of my forefathers. The stream, the vale, the mountain, and the plain, were accustomed to my visits. I became a denizen of the forest and the plain--a resident in the deserted cities. I found a dwelling in the palace and the hut; and all places were my home. I experienced a melancholy pleasure in beholding the scenes in which the greatness of my country had once been exhibited. I walked among the crumbling ruins of her once gorgeous halls. The sunken roofs of her stately cathedrals for me were full of religious awe and veneration; the dilapidated battlements of her ancient castles seemed still to show the dauntless valour of the spirits by whom they had been defended; and the moss and lichens that disfigured her public monuments gave only a fresher interest to the worth they represented. From these I gathered the memories of a better time, and the glories of the past warmed my old heart with the vigour of a second youth. I lived over again the departed age--I recalled to life the buried generations--I contemplated the happiness which the grave had long since hid in her bosom--and the discoloured stones around me seemed to echo the busy goings on of an industrious population. Free hearts were throbbing proudly around me, and the stillness of the desert along which I stalked was made alive with the pleasures of the young, the noble, and the brave.

"Gone is your glory, oh my country!" exclaimed the old man, in a more feeble voice; "your greatness among the nations is put down; your magnificence has dwindled to a heap of stones; your power has nothing by which it may be known. If the stranger come in a few years, and inquire for the city which was the wonder of the world, none shall tell him, for both city and citizens will have crumbled into dust. If he ask for the people whose name was a glory in every clime that exists, he shall find no better reply than the echo of his own voice. He may wander over the brave old island in search of places that history has made immortal, without being able to discover a trace of their existence. The thistle and the nettle will hide the graves of its illustrious; ravenous beasts will prowl in its cities; and all that is noble and grand in its localities will be crushed, swallowed, and lost in one devouring ruin; and I, that am here as an ancient tree with gnarled trunk and brittle boughs, that stands up as if unnoticed by the destroyer, when the rest of the forest have mouldered into the soil, will then have perished and passed away, and not even a remembrance of my name will be left upon the land."

"Noble old man!" exclaimed Oriel Porphyry with fervour, "there is no one here who does not sympathise with your situation. I would endeavour to console you, but I am afraid that your case is one beyond all consolation. What can I do to render you assistance? Let me prevail on you to leave this land, which has been so completely devoted to destruction, and I will find you a more attractive home, and friends as kind as those you have lost."

"Leave this land!" loudly cried the Englishman, apparently astonished at the suggestion. "For a hundred and twenty years this island has been the attraction of all my thoughts; my love for it arose from admiration of its magnificence, and my heart still clings to it in its utter annihilation. Do you think it would be possible for me, after having made myself so familiar with its ruins, to find pleasure in the prosperity of a far off country? No! to me the world hath nothing like it. What are smiling landscapes? What are stately edifices? What are fields busy with life, and cities astir with industry, if on a foreign shore? Its homes are not my home--its graves are not the graves of my people. But these tottering walls and depopulated lands are mine; I hold them in undisputed possession; I have a claim on them which has been long acknowledged; and they have a claim on me which I feel I must speedily prepare to liquidate. No: leave me to the desolation in which I dwell. It has become habitual--it has become necessary. I have long, perhaps too long, been its inhabitant; but the hour comes when another ruin must be added to those which now encumber the soil."

"And then what is to become of the gentle Lilya?" inquired the young merchant.

"Ah! 'tis of that I am ever anxious," replied the old man, with a look of affectionate solicitude towards his youthful relative. "The child is full of amiable ways--she is artless and untutored: I cannot part with her; and yet to leave her unprotected in this wilderness is a source of constant disquietude to me."

"If you entrust her to me," added Oriel, "by the honour of manhood I promise to behave to her as a brother; and I will place her under the protection of a lady from whom she will receive every attention her youth and unfriended situation requires."

"In her name I can promise all that she stands most in need of," said Zabra.

"What say you, my Lilya?" inquired the Englishman. "Will you go with the strangers? Will you leave this wretched country, and seek one where happiness awaits you?"

"I will have no other country but yours, oh my protector!" exclaimed the girl, as she flung herself into the old man's arms. "These strangers are good; but they can never be so good as you have been: and these old walls too--where shall I meet with such verdant moss, or such beautiful ivy, as they possess? While you live, with you must my existence be passed: and when you have ceased to lead me in my wanderings through the silent forest or the deserted city, I care not where I go; for I shall never again find the parent, the friend and guardian I shall have lost."

The Englishman pressed her more closely to his breast.

CHAP. VI.

THE DEATH OF THE LAST OF THE ENGLISHMEN.

"My life is drawing rapidly to its close," faltered the old man; "my weary pilgrimage is nearly over. Farewell, ye solitary halls and voiceless palaces! Farewell, ye grassy streets and ivied porticoes! The eyes that have gazed upon ye in your splendour, and watched ye gradually passing into ruin, will soon be darkened and closed. The heart that hath drawn so many pleasures from your unfading braveries is fast sinking into that state of nothingness to which you all hasten. City of the silent! he who worshipped your prosperity, and loved your decay, must now pass from amidst your ruined dwellings. Like your time-honoured walls, I totter and tremble, and am ready to fall upon the earth that supports me--the ivy seems twining up my unsteady limbs, and the moss is spreading over my ancient heart. Farewell, ye untasted pastures, ye uncultivated fields, ye gardens of weeds and orchards of brambles--the wildness of your looks shall welcome me no more. Farewell, ye hoary mountains and savage rocks, ye untrodden forests and unhonored streams--the same iron hand that hath visited ye so heavily, as heavily must fall on me. I pass from among ye, oh land of my fathers! Your earth shall receive me to her breast!"

The old man lay on a green bank overgrown with wild flowers, while Oriel and Zabra supported his head. Lilya was reclining at his side, with one of his hands at her lips, and her face hid on his breast, and she spoke only in convulsive sobs. Tourniquet stood near him feeling his pulse, and the professor was close beside endeavouring to administer consolation. At a short distance stood the captain and midshipman, with part of the crew of the Albatross, apparently taking a deep interest in the scene. They were congregated together near a shelving hillock in the neighbourhood of an extensive marsh. Before them was an ancient arch of marble, and beyond that, the ruins of a structure evidently once of very great extent and magnificence, with many statues, some standing where they had been placed, and others lying mutilated among the heaps of stones that were piled up around the place for a considerable distance. The sun was declining in the heavens, and the day was bright and warm. Ruins, in different stages of decay, were observed as far as the eye could reach in every direction, except towards the west, where an open space showed the distant hills, over which the sun was hastening his descent.

It was evident that the Englishman was dying. His venerable brow was covered with a thick perspiration, and his fine countenance had become more pallid and anxious than it had previously been. Yet his eyes beamed as if they had lost none of their accustomed brilliancy, and his noble form possessed the same dignity which had first attracted the attention of the voyagers. He was still in possession of all his faculties, and there was an energy in his manner, and an impressiveness in his language, which proved that the spirit that had outlived so many generations had lost none of its youthful vigour.

"Your pulse is getting more feeble, don't you see?" said the doctor, with much sympathy for his patient; "and I regret to be obliged to agree with you in stating that your hours are numbered. You have lived far beyond the usual term of life, and it must be a great consolation to you, in your present state, to know that you have lived all that time in honour, and worth, and virtue."

"Be grateful to Providence that you have been so long spared," observed Fortyfolios. "The age of man is threescore and ten, and this is but rarely attained; and yet your existence has been prolonged to nearly double that length of time. How much have you to be thankful for! Consider the myriads of human beings who are cut off unprepared;--who die in infancy, in early youth, or perfect manhood--who just begin to taste the sweets of life, and then are hurried from its enjoyment. Consider the advantages you have enjoyed over your fellow-countrymen, who were destroyed by war, by pestilence, and famine. You have much reason to congratulate yourself. You have been spared, doubtless, for some admirable purpose which our finite reason cannot comprehend. Reflect upon these things, and you will be enabled to meet the approach of death without apprehension."

"What are your wishes concerning the disposal of Lilya?" inquired Oriel Porphyry. "Remember that it is impossible that she can be left alone upon this island with the slightest comfort to herself or pleasure to others. The offer I made to you the other day I repeat. It is not probable that her welfare can be secured more effectively in any other way. Let me implore you then, as you value her future happiness, to take advantage of my accidental arrival, and give me authority to bear her to a secure and honourable asylum."

"It must be so, oh my Lilya," exclaimed the old man affectionately. "When I have left you, this desolate place can be no proper home for you. You must accompany these kind strangers to their own country. There you will find that protection and care which is necessary to make you pass through life with the esteem of your associates. Remember, oh my Lilya, that if you wish the spirit of the old man who has been your constant companion in all your journeyings to rest satisfied with his afterlife, your conduct must be irreproachable, and you must endeavour to keep your mind free from the approach of all degrading errors. The world is open before you; but although you will find it fruitful in every delicious produce--though it possess the most lovely landscapes, and is peopled by multitudes of the good and generous, there is less ruin in the desolation you see around you than exists in those fair and fertile shores. I part with you with much regret--deeply does my heart feel the separation--but it must be. The evil has no remedy. It ought to be endured without a murmur. Go then, my Lilya, to the land of the stranger, and my blessing shall be upon your footsteps, like an eternal sunshine, wherever they may wander. But in whatever part of the world you may make your sojourn, forget not that the land from whence you came exceeded in glory and in excellence all other lands that have existed since the creation of the world. Do it no dishonour. Show that you are worthy to acknowledge the place of your nativity; and if you should hear the idle, the ungenerous, and the thoughtless attempt to lower her fame, or seek to question her superiority, stand up in her defence with all the eloquence that truth inspires and patriotism makes perfect; and speak of the good she has done, and the wonders she has achieved, and then the most illiberal and unjust of your audience shall find their erroneous impressions fade before your convincing eulogy, and with a new and better spirit they shall say, 'Would that I had been an Englishman!'"

Lilya answered only with her sobs, which now became quicker and more vehement.

"It must be gratifying to you to know that your country has never been enslaved," remarked the young merchant, earnestly. "While other lands have been degraded by the vilest spirit of despotism, the energies of the public men of England kept her unshackled."

"I stand on the grave of a mighty empire," replied the Englishman, "who has erected monuments of her greatness in every quarter of the globe. I am hurrying to the same sepulchre. In such a situation, more than in any other, it is natural that I should speak the words of truth and honesty. It is my conviction, then, that this country could never have fallen from its greatness, except through its own internal dissensions. When it enjoyed an unexampled state of prosperity, there existed men calling themselves patriots, yet possessing no claim to such a title, who kept the multitude in a restless and unsatisfied state, by their continual abuse of its institutions, and frequent demands for change. If these individuals could have been believed on their own testimony, they were the most disinterested set of men that ever existed. They had no motive except for the common good. They had no feeling separate from the interests of the community. In my time there flourished few more ardent lovers of liberty than myself; my inclination for freedom was a passion, an enthusiasm, a dream. I seemed to see nothing but chains where a fetter never existed, and found nothing but slavery in a state of society that enjoyed a higher degree of independence than any in the world. My connection with the popular party brought me much into contact with the influencial patriots; and I found them the most selfish, narrow-minded, bigotted men that ever disgraced a country: they had no other desire but for their own aggrandisement. They fawned upon the people till they became possessed of the power they coveted, and then endeavoured to exert a more absolute authority than had ever been exhibited by the government they superseded. Self was the great object of all their exertions, and to selfish ends their fine speeches and liberal promises always tended. They had no care for the multitude except as steps for their own advancement. Freedom still appears to me in the same alluring guise in which she first won me to follow in her footsteps, and amid the solitude of this uncultivated wild I have enjoyed more of her smiles than the most perfect form of government could create; but my experience has convinced me that a vast population must be well prepared for a change in their constitution, that promises a considerable accession of liberty, as it is called, before it can be enjoyed with safety to the commonwealth. Sudden changes never come to any good. The whole frame-work of society is unhinged by them; opinions are unsettled, the public confidence is withdrawn, the reverence for the old is broken, and the new being untried, cannot be regarded with the same respect as a state of things which has existed for centuries. I have noticed this; and it proves that revolutions in systems of government that have any lasting value should be introduced by the gradual growth of public opinion, and that any system of government that produces a certain quantity of benefit to the people, however faulty it may be in other respects, is preferable to any other system of government which has been untried, and the utility of which, therefore, has not been ascertained. I am convinced that the dissolution of this great empire originated in the dissatisfaction in the public mind for the existing laws, which had been artfully created by numbers of mock patriots, such as may be found in all states enjoying liberty of opinion, for the purpose of realising schemes they had entertained for their own advantage."

"But true patriotism may exist in a state, though the false may be predominant, don't you see," remarked Tourniquet; "and it is too sterling a thing to be set aside, because any constitution which governs the many possesses some acknowledged merit. The real patriotism may always be known from the false by its self-abandonment, and the true patriot seeks no other advantage than the public good."

"In the history of nations of any celebrity," said Fortyfolios, "there can be nothing more interesting to the student than to observe their gradual rise, decline, and fall. They first arise out of an obscurity so profound, that among earlier empires they were known, if known at all, only as a few straggling savages. These multiply and become enlightened, build cities and ships, cultivate the land and invent manufactures, make war and obtain great triumphs; and as they advance in civilisation their resources increase, their intelligence becomes more general, and at last they acquire a superiority over the most important nations at such a time existing in the world. This power they retain as long as they are united, wise, and brave; but immediately a disunion appears, a complete disorganisation takes place, every thing goes wrong, and the whole fabric, so elaborately built up, tumbles to pieces. They once more become reduced to wandering savages, and their country is again a wilderness. All the earliest nations of antiquity have been thus created, and thus have perished: and as Carthage, Egypt, Troy, and numberless other states of equal importance in the youth of the world, were dissolved till nothing remained of them but the name, so has England, infinitely their superior, both in public intelligence and in public glory, arrived at a dissolution as desolating and complete. The subject of inquiry for the philosopher now is, whether kingdoms or commonwealths, having returned to the state of barbarism from which they advanced, will not at a proper period again progress in civilisation till they once more arrive at the pre-eminence from which they had fallen."

"The spirit of the future is upon me!" exclaimed the last of the Englishmen, in an elevated tone of voice, and with his countenance lit up with deep and powerful excitement. "The glory of the past rises from its sepulchre with renewed life, and a power exceeding all experience. Again the ruin rings with life, and the wilderness is a smiling garden, fruitful in human happiness. The voices of industry now cheer every corner of the solitary city, and the laugh of pleasure awakens the gloomy recesses of the forest with an inspiring feeling of gladness. Now are the broad waters of the abandoned river covered with shipping of every maritime nation under the sun; and in every sea that flows beneath the arching vault of the everlasting heavens, the dauntless mariners of England dash along, triumphing over the tempest and the foe. The magnificence, the bravery, the intelligence, the virtue, and the might of former times now rise before my gaze, multiplied tenfold in degree. I see the banners of a thousand victories; the shouts of freedom and the glad pæans of triumph swell upon my ear; the pomp of stirring music--the beauty of art in its noblest creations--the perfection of unrivalled manufactures--the imposing array of palaces of streets and streets of palaces, stupendous bridges, noble monuments, and stately halls;--the throngs of the noble, the great, the good, the wise and the industrious, with sumptuous equipages, numerous retinues, gay liveries, or joyous faces, and happy hearts, become evident to my senses. I see the felicitous influence of a wise government exercised upon a flourishing and contented population countless as the stars. I see societies, and families, and individuals, all sharing in the general joy. I see wealth, abundance, skill, and industry, flowing in a refreshing channel that fertilises the whole island. I behold thee, oh, my country! the proudest of the nations, whose laws govern the seas, and whose name is absolute on the dry land, rising from the darkness and the desolation which now shrouds thy greatness, and with a prouder dignity, and a fresher splendour, and a power more universal than to one nation ever belonged resume thy ancient throne upon the waters, and commence a reign which shall far exceed in glory all the glories by which it has ever been preceded."

The old man fell back exhausted into the arms of Oriel and Zabra, and it was at first feared that his spirit had departed; but in a few moments respiration gently recommenced, the look of life beamed in his gaze, and he returned to a state of consciousness.

"This will not last long, don't you see;" said the doctor to his companions. "Though the intellectual powers have suffered but little, the physical are nearly destroyed. He is but lingering on his journey. His resting-place is close at hand."

"Let me see the sun;" exclaimed the Englishman, with the same enthusiastic fervour he had previously exhibited, as he endeavoured to turn himself in the required direction. His hearers lifted him up gently, so that he could have a full view of that majestic luminary as it was setting behind the western hills. "Let me again behold that glorious orb whose uprisings and whose goings down I have witnessed so long and proudly. Ha! There still spread the ruddy tints--the glow of fire and gold is upon the skies once more;--there are the gorgeous colours and radiant splendours that have so often shed their magnificence upon our ancient island. Once again, O wondrous Oread, I drink in delighted the sweet effulgence of your rays. They warm me, they cheer me, they invigorate the flagging current still flowing through my veins. How many times have I looked upon your rising and your setting!--and on every fresh occasion have exclaimed how lovely! how new! how wonderful! And now for the last time, I watch ye taking the accustomed path, clothed in that panoply of state that knows of no decay. Stay, stay a little in your course: your rising on the morrow will not be for my enjoyment; for, with your setting, on me sets the world. Stay, bright harbinger of gladness, your task is not yet done;--there is a soul fondly hovering on your beams, that, as you fade, must pass away. Slowly your glories dissolve into the cloud, and with them the impulses of my existence disappear. The fires around you, are becoming faint, and the flame that burns in this receptacle is trembling, and flickering, and dying into darkness. Still I follow you over the distant hills, now purpled with your beauty. Heaven and earth are fading from my sight, and England, the land of my birth and grave, of my long pilgrimage and devoted love, passeth from my view like a cloud in the nighttime. Lilya! my blessing be upon you from now to eternity. Friends, I submit her to your care with a thankfulness that language cannot speak. I die with many consolations. I have no enemies to forgive;--I have had none to sin against. I die in the religion of my fathers, with glory to God and good will towards men. See, the last streak of crimson over the hill, just above the fading disc of the setting sun. Watch it--my spirit is hastening to share in its splendours. See,--it lessens--it fades--'t is gone!"