Chapter XXII: Introduction: To the Second Volume (6)

The first salutations over with my friend Eglantine, I could not help expressing my surprise at the sailor-like appearance of his costume. "All the go here, old fellow," said Horace; "we must start that long-tailed gib of yours for a nice little square mizen, just enough to cover your beam and keep your bows cool; so bear a hand, my boy, and let us drop down easy to our births, and when properly rigged you shall go on board my yacht, the Rover, and we will bear away for the westward. Only cast off that sky scraper of yours before the boom sweeps it overboard, and cover your main top with a Waterloo cap: there, now, you are cutter rigg'd, in good sailing trim, nothing queer and yawl-like about you." In this way I soon found myself metamorphosed into a complete sailor, in appearance; and as every other person of any condition, from the marquis downwards, adopted the same dress, the alteration was indispensably necessary to escape the imputation of being considered a Goth. Among the varied sports in which the nobility and gentry of England have at any time indulged, or that have, from the mere impulse of the moment and the desire of novelty, become popular, none have been more truly national and praiseworthy than the establishment of the Royal Yacht Club. The promotion ~147~~of aquatic amusement combines the soundest policy in the pursuit of pleasure, two points but rarely united; in addition to which it benefits that class of our artizans, the shipwrights, who, during a time of profound peace, require some such auxiliary aid; nor is it less patriotic in affording employment to sea-faring men, encouraging the natural characteristic of Britons, and feeding and fostering a branch of service upon which the country must ever rely for its support and defence in time of peril. To the owners it offers advantages and attractions which are not, in other pursuits, generally attainable; Health here waits on Pleasure,--Science benefits by its promotion,--friends may partake without inconvenience or much additional expense,--travel is effected with economy,--and change of scene and a knowledge of foreign coasts obtained without the usual privations and incumbrances attendant upon the public mode of conveyance. By a recent regulation, any gentleman's pleasure yacht may enter the ports of France, or those of any other power in alliance with England, exempted from the enormous exactions generally extorted from private and merchant vessels, as harbour and other dues,--a privilege of no mean consequence to those who are fond of sailing. In addition, there are those, and of the service too, who contend, that since the establishment of the Royal Yacht Club, by their building superior vessels, exciting emulation, and creating a desire to excel in naval architecture, and also by the superiority of their sailing, the public service of the country has been much benefited, particularly as regards our lighter vessels, such as revenue cutters and cruizers. This club, which originated with some gentlemen at Cowes in the year 1815, now comprises the name of almost every nobleman and gentleman in the kingdom who keeps a yacht, and is honoured with that of the sovereign, and other members of his family, ~148~~as its patrons. Cowes Harbour is the favourite rendezvous; and here in the months of July and August may be seen above one hundred fine vessels built entirely for purposes of pleasure, and comprising every size and variety of rigging, from a ship of three hundred tons burthen to the yawl of only eight or ten. It was just previous to that delightful spectacle, the regatta, taking place, when the roads and town presented an unusually brilliant appearance, that I found myself agreeably seated on board the Rover, a cutter yacht of about thirty tons, who, if she was not fitted up with all the superiority of many of those which surrounded me, had at least every comfortable and necessary accommodation for half a dozen visitors, without incommoding my friend Horace or his jovial crew.

I had arrived at Cowes a low-spirited weakly invalid, more oppressed in mind than body; but a few trips with my friend Eglantine to sea, on board the Rover, and some equally pleasant rambles among the delightful scenery which surrounds the bay of Cowes, had in one week's residence banished all symptoms of dispepsia and nervous debility, and set the master of arts once more upon his legs again. Some idea of my condition, on leaving _alma mater_, may be obtained by the following effusion of my Muse, who, to do her justice, is not often sentimental, unless when sickness presses her too close.

THE INVALID.

Light-hearted Mirth and Health farewell,
Twin sisters of my youthful days,
Who through life's early spangled dell
Would oft inspire my humble lays.

Fancy, cameleon of the mind,
The poet's treasure, life, and fame,
Thou too art fled, with wreath to bind
The budding of some happier name.

~149~~

Oppression's sway, or fortune's frown,
My buoyant spirits once could bear;
But now chimeras press me down,
And all around seems fell despair.

With fev'rish dreams and frenzied brain,
When Hecate spreads her veil, I'm crost;
My body sinks a prey to pain,
And all but lingering hope is lost.

With the return of health and spirits, Horace insisted I should write the "L'Allegro" to this "Il Penseroso" effusion. So, finding the jade had recovered her wonted buoyancy, I prayed her mount on gayest wing, and having spread her pinions to the sun, produced the following impromptu.

THE CONVALESCENT.

Welcome, thou first great gift below,
Hygeian maid, with rosy glow,
Thrice welcome to my call.
Let misers hug their golden store,
I envy none the servile ore;
To me thou art all in all.

Thou spring of life, and herald fair,
Whose charm dispels disease and care,
And yields a summer joy,
All hail! celestial seraph, hail!
Thou art the poet's coat of mail,
His mirth without alloy.

There is a prepossessing something in the life of a sailor which improves the natural attachment of Englishmen to every thing nautical; so much so, that I never heard of one in my life who was not, after a single trip, always fond of relating his hair-breadth perils and escapes, and of seizing every opportunity to display his marine knowledge by framing his conversation _ship shape_, and decorating his oratory with a few of those lingual localisms, which to a landsman must be almost unintelligible without the aid of ~150~~a naval glossary. A fortnight's tuition under the able auspices of my friend Horace had brought me into tolerable good trim in this particular; I already knew the difference between fore and aft, a gib, a mainsail, and a mizen;could hand a rope, or let go the foresail upon a tack; and having gained the good opinion of the sailing captain, I was fast acquiring a knowledge how to box the binnacle and steer through the Needle's Eye. But, my conscience! as the Dominie says, I could never learn how to distinguish the different vessels by name, particularly when at a little distance; their build and rigging being to my eye so perfectly similar. In all this, however, my friend Horace was as completely at home as if he had studied naval architecture at the college; the first glance of a vessel was quite enough for him: like an old sportsman with the pedigree of a horse or a dog, only let him see her, through his glass head or stern, or upon a lee lurch, and he would hail her directly, specify her qualities and speed, tell you where she was built, and who by, give you the date of her register, owner's name, tonnage, length and breadth of her decks, although to the eye of the uninitiated there was no distinguishing mark about her, the hull being completely black, and the rigging, to a rope, like every other vessel of the same class. "For instance," said Horace, "who could possibly mistake that beautiful cutter, the Pearl? See how she skims along like a swan with her head up, and stern well under the wind! Then, look at her length; there's a bowsprit, my boy! full half the measurement of her hull; and her new mainsail looks large enough to sweep up every breath of wind between the sea and the horizon. Then only direct your fore lights to her trim; every rope just where it should be, and not a line too much; and when she fills well with a stiff breeze, not a wrinkle in all her canvas from the gib to the gaff topsail. Then observe how she dips in the bows, and what a breadth she ~151~~has; why she's fit for any seas; and if the Arrow ever shoots past her, I'll forfeit every shot in my lockers." "Avast there! master Horace," said our master at the helm, who was an old Cowes pilot, and as bluff as a Deal sea-boat; "the Pearl is a noble sailer; but a bird can't fly without wings, nor a ship run thirteen knots an hour without a good stiff breeze. If the light winds prevail, the Arrow will have the advantage, particularly now she's cutter rigged, and has got the marquis's old mainsail up to take the wind out of his eye." "Ay, ay," said Horace, "you must tell that story to the marines, old boy; it will never do for the sailors." "Mayhap, your honours running right a-head with the Pearl, and betting your blunt all one way; but, take an old seaman's advice; may I get no more rest than a dog-vane, or want a good _grego_{1} in a winter's watch, if I don't think you had better keep a good look-out for the wind's changing aft; and be ready to haul in your weather-braces, and bear the back-stays abreast the top-br'im, ere the boatswain's mate pipes the starboard-watch a-hoy." "Tush, tush, old fellow," said Horace, with whom I found Lord Anglesey's cutter stood a one at Lloyd's. "May my mother sell vinegar, and I stay at home to bottle it off, if I would give a farthing per cent, to be ensured for my whole risk upon the grand match! Mind your weather roll, master--belay every inch of that. There now; look out a-head; there's the Liberty giving chase to the Julia, and the Jack-o'lantern weathering the Swallow upon every tack. His Grace of Norfolk won't like that; but a pleasure hack must not be expected to run against a thorough-bred racer. There is but one yawl in the club, and that is the little Eliza, that can sail alongside a cutter; but then Sir George Thomas is a tar for all weathers--a true blue jacket--every thing so snug--cawsand rig--no topmasts--all so square and trim, that nothing of his bulk can

1 A watch-coat.

~152~~beat him." In this way my friend Eglantine very soon perfected me in nautical affairs, or, to use his expression, succeeded in putting a "timber head in the ship;" and the first use I made of my newly acquired information was to pen a _jeu d'esprit_, in the way of a circular in rhyme, inviting the members of the Royal Yacht Club to assemble in Cowes-roads. The whim was handed about in MS., and pleased more from its novelty than merit; but as it contains a correct list of the club at this period, and as the object of the English Spy is to perpetuate the recollections of his own time, I shall here introduce it to the notice of my readers.

A CIRCULAR,

ADDRESSED TO THE MEMBERS OP THE ROYAL YACHT CLUB.

Come, lads, bend your sails; o'er the blue waters thronging, In barks like the sea-mew that skims o'er the lave; All you to the Royal Yacht squadron belonging, Come, muster at Cowes, for true sport on the wave.{1} First our king,{2} Heaven bless him! who's lord of the sea, And delights in the sport of the circling wave, Commands you attend him wherever ye be, Sons of ocean, ye loyal, ye witty, and brave. Here Anglesey,{3} Waterloo's hero, shall greet ye;

1 The club generally assemble in Cowes-roads about the
middle of July to commence their aquatic excursions, which
are continued

until after the Regatta in August.

2 His Majesty is graciously pleased to honour the club by
becoming its patron.

3 The Marquis of Anglesey is a principal promoter of this
truly British sport, and resides with his family at Cowes
Castle during the season. The Pearl cutter, 113 tons, and
the Liberty cutter, 42 tons, are both his property.

~153~~

The Pearl, and the Liberty, cutters in trim, The Welds {4} in the Arrow and Julia too meet ye, The match for eight hundred affording you whim. Here Grantham{5} his Nautilus, steer'd by old Hollis, Shall cut through the wave like a beautiful shell; And Symonds{6} give chase in the yawl the Cornwallis, And Webster{7} the Scorpion manage right well; And Williams{8} the younger, and Owen{9} his dad, From the shores of Beaumaris have run the Gazelle; And Craven{10} his May-fly wings o'er like a lad That is used to the ocean, and fond of its swell. Come, lads, bear a hand--here's Sir George hove in sight, With his little Eliza{11} so snug and so trim; Tan sails, cawsand rigg'd--for all weather she's tight; You must sail more than well, if you mean to beat him. Then steady, boys, steady--here's Yarborough's{12} Falcon, A very fine ship, but a little too large; And here is a true son of Neptune to talk on, Vice-Admiral Hope,{13} K.CB. in his barge.

4 Joseph and James Welds, Esqrs., of Southampton, the
wealthy and spirited owners of the Arrow yawl, 85 tons, and
the Julia, 43 tons. These gentlemen evince the greatest
spirit in challenging and sailing any of the club.

5 Lord Grantham, Nautilus, Cutter, 103 tons, a new and very
fast sailer.

Owner Vessel Class Tons

6 Capt. J. C. Symonds, R.N. Adm. Cornwallis Yawl 22

7 Sir Godfrey Webster Scorpion, Cutter 110

8 T. P. Williams, Esq., Hussar, Schooner, 120
and the Blue-eyed Maid, Cutter, 39

9 Owen Williams, Esq. Gazelle Cutter 87

10 Earl Craven May-fly Yawl 39

11 Sir George Thomas, Bart. Eliza Yawl 34

12 Lord Yarborough Commodore Falcon Ship 335

13 Vice-Admiral Sir W. Johnston Hope, K.C.B., who is here in
one of the Admiralty yachts.

~154~~

Come, lads, spread your canvas for health and for pleasure,
For both are combined in this true British sport;
Come, muster in Cowes-roads without further leisure,
Blue jackets and trowsers for dresses at court.
See Deerhurst{14} his Mary sticks to like a lover,
And Lindegren's{15}Dove wings it over the main;
Powell's {16} Briton, 'tis very well known, is a rover,
In Union the Pagets{17}must ever remain;
Here's Smith's {18 }Jack o'lantern and Chamberlayne's Fairy,{19}
Earl Harborough's{20} Ann, and F. Pake's Rosabelle{21}
Lord Willoughby's {22} Antelope, Penleaze's {23}Mary,
And Gauntlet's{24}Water-sprite sails very well.
Come, jolly old Curtis,{25} bear up in your Emma,
Eight cheerily laden with turtle and port;
And Melville{26} set sail if you'd scape the dilemma
Of being too late for our aquatic sport.
See Norfolk {27}already is here in the Swallow,
And the Don Giovanni a challenge has sent,
Which Lyons {28} accepts, and intends to beat hollow,
That is if the Londoner should not repent.

Owner Vessel

14 Viscount Deerhurst Mary

15 J. Lindegren, Esq. Dove.

16 J. B. Powell, Esq. Briton

17 Right Hon. Sir A. Paget Union

18 T. A. Smith, jun. Esq. Jack o'lantern

19 W. Chamberlayne, Esq. Fairy

20 Earl of Harborough Ann

21 F. Pare, Esq. Rosabelle

22 Lord Willoughby do Broke Antelope

23 J. S. Penleaze, Esq. Mary

24 Captain J. Gauntlet Water Sprite

25 Sir William Curtis, Bart. Rebecca Maria, Yawl, 76 tons.
and Emma, Schooner, 132 tons.

26 Lord Melville Admiralty Yacht 100

27 Duke of Norfolk Swallow Yawl 124

28 Captain Edmund Lyons (the polar navigator) had just
launched the Queen Mab.

~155~~

But look, what a crowd of fine yachts are arriving!
The Elizabeth,{29 }Unicorn,{30} Cygnet,{31} and Jane,{32}
The Eliza, Sabrina,{33} Madora,{34} all striving
To beat one another as coursing the main.
A fleet of small too, at anchor are riding;
The Margaret{35} Sapphire,{36} the Molly,{37} and Hind,{38}
The Orion,{39} and Dormouse{40} and Janette{41}abiding
The time when each vessel shall covet the wind.
Then, boys, bend your sails, and weigh for our regatta,
We've a Sylph?{42 and a Rambler{43} and a Merry Maid,{44}
A Syren{45} a Cherub{46} a Charlotte{47} and at her
A Corsair(48} who looks as if nothing afraid.
Here the Lord of the Isles{49} and freebooter Rob Roy,{50}
By a Will o' the Wisp{51} are led over the deep;

29 J. Fleming, Esq.
Elizabeth

30 H. Perkins, Esq.
Unicorn,

31 J. Reynolds, Esq.
Cygnet

32 Hon. William Hare
Jane

33 James Maxie, Esq.
Sabrina

34 H. Hopkins, Esq.
Madora

35 Hon. William White
Margaret

36 James Dundas, Esq.
Sapphire

37 Lieutenant-Colonel Harris
Charming Molly

38 Capt. Herringham, R.N.
Hind

39 James Smith, Esq.
Orion

40. P. Peach, Esq.
Dormouse

41 Capt. C. Wyndham, R.N.
Janette

42 R. W. Newman, Esq.
Sylph

43 J. H. Durand, Esq.
Jolly Rambler

44 Joseph Gulston, Esq.
Merry-maid

45 T. Lewin, Esq.
Syren

46 T. Challen, Esq.
Cherub

47 John Vassall, Esq.
Charlotte

48 Corbett, Esq.
Corsair

49 Colonel Seale
Lord of the Isles

50 W. Gaven, Esq.
Rob Roy

51 E. H. Dolatield, Esq.
Will o' the Wisp

And the Highland Lass{52} blushes a welcome of joy,
As alongside the Wombwell{53} she anchors to sleep.
Here the Donna del Lago{54} consorts with Rostellan,{55}
To the New Grove,{56} Lord Nelson{57} Louisa {58} attends,
Galatea{59} runs a Harrie{60} in chase of the Erin,{61}
And here with the Club List my Circular ends.

Owner Vessel Class Tons

52 Lieut.-Gen. Mackenzie Highland Lass Yawl 25

53 T. Harman, Esq. Wombivell Cutter 33

54 S. Halliday, Esq. Lady of Die Lake Yawl 42

55 Marquis of Thoruond Rostellan Schooner 60

56 John Roche, Esq. New Grove Cutter 24

57 Reverend C. A. North Lord Nelson Cutter 75

58 Arch. Swinton, Esq. Louisa Yawl 24

59 C. R. M. Talbot, Esq. Galatea Schooner 179

60 Sir R. J. A. Kemys Harrier Schooner 36

61 T. Allen, Esq. Erin Schooner 94

~156~~

"A right merrie conceit," said Horace, "and a good-humoured jingle that must be gratifying to all mentioned, and will serve as a record of the present list of the Yacht Club to future times. We must petition the commodore to enter you upon the ship's books as poet-laureate to the squadron: you shall pen lyrics for our annual club-dinner at East Cowes, compose sea-chants for our cabin jollifications, sing the praises of our wives and sweethearts, and write a congratulatory ode descriptive of our vessels, crews, and commanders, at the end of every season; and your reward shall be a birth on board any of the fleet when you choose a sail, and a skin-full of grog whenever you like to command it. So come, old fellow, give us a spice of your qualifications for your new office; something descriptive of the science of navigation, from its earliest date to the perfection of a first-rate man of war."

~157~~

THE PROGRESS OF NAVIGATION,

AN ORIGINAL SONG;

Dedicated to the Members of the Royal Yacht Club.

In the first dawn of science, ere man could unfold
The workings of nature, or valued dull gold;
Ere yet he had ventured to dare ocean's swell,
Or could say by the moon how the tides rose and fell;
A philosopher seated one day on the brink
Of the silvery margin thus took him to think:
"If on this side the waters are girted by land,
What controls the wide expanse, I'd fain understand."
Thus buried in thought had he ponder'd till now,
But a beautiful nautilus sail'd to and fro;
Just then a sly breeze raised the curls from his eyes,
And he woke from a dream to extatic surprise.
O'er his head a huge oak spread a canopy round,
Whose trunk being hollow, he levell'd to ground;
With a branch form'd a mast, and some matting a sail,
And thus rudely equipp'd dared the perilous gale;
Of the winds and the waves both the mercy and sport,
His bark was long tost without guidance to port,
And the storms of the ocean went nigh to o'erwhelm,
When the tail of the dolphin suggested a helm.
Ry degrees, the canoe to a cutter became,
And order and form newly-moulded the same,
Ropes, rigging, and canvas, and good cabin room,
A bowsprit, a mizen, a gib, and a boom.
From the cutter, the schooner, brig, frigate arose;
Till Britons, determined to conquer their foes,
Built ships like to castles, they call'd men of war,
The fame of whose broadsides struck terror afar.
Now boldly, philosophy aided by skill,
Bent his course o'er the blue waters sailing at will,
But dubious the track, for as yet 'twas unknown
How to steer 'twixt the poles for a north or south zone,

~158~~

Till the magnet's attraction, by accident found,
Taught man how the globe he could traverse around;
New worlds brought to light, and new people to view,
And by commerce connected Turk, Christian, and Jew.
All this while, father Neptune lay snug in his bed,
Till he heard a sad riot commence o'er his head,
Folks firing, and fighting, and sailing about,
When his godship popp'd up just to witness the rout;
It happen'd in one of those actions to be
When Europe combined fought the isle of the sea,
And, as usual, were conquer'd, sunk, fired, or run,
That old Neptune acknowledged each Briton his son.
"From this time," said his godship, "henceforth, be it known,
Little England's the spot for the ocean-king's throne;
And this charter I grant, and enrol my decree,
That my brave sons, the Britons, are lords of the sea."

"There's nothing like a good song," said Horace, "for conveying information on nautical subjects, or promoting that national spirit which is the pride and glory of our isle. I question if the country are not more indebted to old Charles Dibdin for his patriotic effusions during the late war, than to all the psalm-singing admirals and chaplains of the fleet put together. I know that crab Gambier, and the methodist privateers who press all sail to pick up a deserter from the orthodox squadron, do a great deal of mischief among our seamen; for as Corporal Trim says, 'What time has a sailor to palaver about creeds when it blows great guns, or the enemies of his country heave in sight? a sailor's religion is to perform his duty aloft and do good below; honour his king, love his girl, obey his commander, and burn, sink, and destroy the foes of his country.' Here we have an occasional exhibition of this sort on board the depot vessel in the harbour, when the _Bethel_ flag ~159~~is hoisted, and the voice of the puritan is heard from East Cowes to Eaglehurst; as if there were not already conventicles enough on shore for those who are disposed to separate themselves from the established church, without the aid of a floating chapel, furnished by the government agent to subvert the present order of things. On this point, you know, I was always a liberal thinker, but a firm friend to the church, as being essential to the best interests of the state. An old college chum of ours, who has been unusually fortunate in obtaining ecclesiastical preferment, thought proper to send me a friendly lecture in one of his letters the other day on this subject, to which I returned the following answer, and put an end to his scruples, as I think, for ever: I have entitled it

THE UNIVERSALIST.

'to a friend who questioned the propriety of his
religious opinions.

'You ask what creed is mine? and where
I seek the Lord in holy prayer?
What sect I follow? by what rule,
Perhaps you mean, I play the fool?
I answer, none; yet gladly own
I worship God, but God alone.
No pious fraud or monkish lies
Shall teach me others to despise;
Whate'er their creed, I love them all,
So they before their Maker fall.
The sage, the savage, and refined,
On this one point are equal blind:
Shall man, the creature of an hour,
Arraign the all-creative Power?
Or, by smooth chin, or beard unshaved,
Decree who shall or not be saved?
Presumptuous priests, in silk and lawn,
May lib'ral minds denounce with scorn;
The reason's clear--remove the veil,
Their trade and interest both must fail.

~160

I hold that being worse than blind,
Where bigotry usurps the mind;
And more abhor him who for pelf,
Denouncing others, damns himself.
Look round, observe creation's work,
From Afric's savage to the Turk;
Through polish'd Europe turn your eye,
To where the sun of liberty
On western shores illumes the wave,
That flows o'er many a patriot's grave;
As varied as their skin's the creed,
By which they hope they shall succeed
In presence of their God, to prove
Their claim to his eternal love;
A claim that must and will have weight,
No matter what their creed or state.
By modes of faith let none presume
To fix his fellow-creature's doom.'"

"A truce with religion, Horace," said I; "it is a controversy that generally ends in making friends foes, and foes the most implacable of persecutors: with the one it shuts out all hope of reconciliation, with the other breeds a war of extermination; so come, lad, leave theology to the fathers--we that have liberal souls tolerate all creeds. More hollands, steward: here's a glass to all our college acquaintance, not forgetting grandmamma and the pretty nuns of Saint Clement's. Where the deuce is all that singing we hear above, steward?" "On board the Transport, your honour." "Ay, I remember, I saw the poor devils embark this morning, and a doleful sight it was--one hundred of my fellow-creatures, in the prime of life, consigned to an early grave, transported to the pestilential climate of Sierre Leone: inquire for them three months hence, and you shall find them--not where they will find you--but where whole regiments of their predecessors have been sacrificed, on the unhealthy shores--victims to the false policy of holding what is worse than useless, and of enslaving the original owners of the soil.

~161~~Liquor, and the reflection of their desperate fortunes, have driven them mad, and now they give vent to their feelings in a forced torrent of wild mirth, in which they would bury the recollections of those they are parted from for ever. On the beach this morning I witnessed a most distressing scene: wives separated by force from their husbands, and children torn from the fond embraces of parents whose parting sighs were all they could yield them on this side the grave. 'Push off the boat, and, officer, see that no women are permitted on board,' said the superintending lieutenant of the depot, with a voice and manner hard and unfeeling as the iron oracle of authority. My heart sickened at the sight, and the thrilling scream of a widowed wife, as she fell senseless on the causeway, created an impression that my pitying Muse could not resist recording.

'THE SOLDIER'S WIPE.

'There's a pang which no pencil nor pen can express,
A heart-broken sigh which despondency breathes,
When the soul, overcharged with oppressive distress,
Of the tear of relief the sad bosom bereaves.
'Twas thus on the shore, like a statue of grief,
The wife of the soldier her babe fondly press'd;
Not a word could she utter, no tear gave relief,
But sorrow convulsively heaved her soft breast.
Now nearer she presses--now severed for life
The waves bear the lord of her bosom from view;
Distraction suspends the red current of life,
And she sinks on the beach as he sighs out adieu.'"

"Zounds, old fellow, how sentimental you are growing!" said Horace: "you must read these pathetic pieces to the marines; they will never do for the sailors. Here, steward, bear a hand, muster the crew aft, and let us have a tune, Jack's Alive, Malbrook, or the College Hornpipe;" an order that was quickly carried into execution, as most of the ~162~~men on board I found played some wind instrument, the effect of which upon the stillness of the water was enchantingly sweet. During the occasional rests of the band, Horace sung one of those delightful melodies, written in imitation of Moore, for which he was celebrated when a boy at Eton.

THE EVENING TIDE.

Tune--" The Young May Moon."
Whither so fast away, my dear?
The star of Eve is bright and clear,
And the parting day, as it fades away,
To lovers brings delight, my dear:
Then 'neath night's spangled veil, my dear,
Come list t' the young heart's tale sincere;
Yon orb of light, so chaste and bright,
Love's magic yields within her sphere.
Then through the shady grove, my love,
Let's wander with the cooing dove,
Till the starry night, to morning's light,
Shall break upon our wooing, love.
As life's young dream shall pass, my love,
Together let us gaily row,
And day by day, in sportive play,
Enjoy life's Meeting gloss, my love.

It was on one of those warm evenings in the month of July, when scarcely a zephyr played upon the wanton wave, and the red sun had sunk to rest behind the Castle turrets, giving full promise of another sultry day, that our little band had attracted a more than usual display of promenaders on the walk extending from the Fort point to the Marine Hotel. With the report of the evening gun, or, as Horace termed it, the _admiral's grog bell_, we had quitted the cabin, and mustering our little party upon deck, suffered the Rover to drift nearer in shore with the tide, that we might enjoy the gratifying spectacle of more closely observing the young, the beautiful, and the ~163~~accomplished _elegantes_ who traversed to and fro upon the beach to catch the soft whispers of the saline air.

At the Castle Causeway a boat had just landed a group of beautiful children, who appeared clinging round a tall well-formed man, in a blue jacket and white trowsers, resting a hand upon each of two fine boys dressed in a similar style: he walked on, with a slight affection of lameness, towards the Castle entrance, preceded by three lovely little female fairies, who gambolled in his path like sportive zephyrs.--"There moves one of the bravest men, and best of fathers, in his majesty's dominions," said Horace--"the commander of the Pearl." "What," said I, "the Marquis of Anglesey?" "The same--who here seeks retirement in the bosom of his family, and without ostentation enjoys a pleasure, which, in its pursuit, produces permanent advantage to many, and enables others, his friends and relations, to participate with him in his amusements. We are much indebted to the marquis for the promotion of this truly British sport, who with his brothers, Sir Charles and Sir Arthur, were among the first members of the Royal Yacht Club. The group of blue jackets to the left, whom the marquis recognised as he passed, consist of that merry fellow, Sir Godfrey Webster, who lias a noble yacht here, the Scorpion; the commander of the Sabrina, James Manse, Esq. another jovial soul; the two Williams's, father and son, who have both fine yachts in our roads; Sir Charles Sullivan; and the Polar navigator, Captain Lyons, who has just launched a beautiful little boat called the Queen Mab, with whom he means to bewitch the Don Giovanni of London." "Who is that interesting female leaning over the railings in front of the Gothic house, attended by a dark pensive-looking swain, with a very intelligent countenance? Methinks there is an air of style about the pair that speaks nobility; and yet I have observed ~164~~they appear too fond of each other's society to be fashionables." "That is the delightful Lady F. L. Gower and her lord: I thought you would have recognised that star instantly, from the splendid picture of her by Lawrence, which hangs in the Stafford Gallery at Cleveland-house. The elegant group pacing the lawn in front of the castellated mansion, on this side of Lord Gower, is the amiable Countess of Craven and her family: the earl, that generous and once merry-hearted soul, I lament to hear, is a victim to the gout; but it is hoped a few trips on board the May-fly will restore him to health, and the enjoyment of his favourite pursuit." "By my soul, Horace," said I, "here comes a splendid creature, a very divinity, my boy: I' faith just such a woman as might melt the heart of a corsair." "By my honour you have hit the mark exactly," replied Eglantine, "for she is already the corsair's bride, and Corbett feels, as he ought to do, not a little proud of his good fortune. The raven-haired Graces accompanying that true son of Neptune, Sir George Thomas, are daughters of the baronet, and, report says, very accomplished girls. Now by all that's fascinating and charming, hither comes the beautiful Miss Seymour, Mrs. Fitzherbert's _protege_, and his Majesty's little pet--an appellation I have often heard him salute her by. The magnificent-looking belle by her side is a relation, the charming Mrs. Seymour, acknowledged to be a star of the first magnitude in female attractions. The three portly-looking gentlemen whose grog-blossomed visages speak their love of the good things of this world are the Admirals Scott and Hope, and that facetious of all funny senators, Sir Isaac Coffin. If you are an admirer of the soft and the sentimental, of the love-enkindling eye, and Madonna-like expression of countenance, observe that band of Arcadian shepherdesses in speckled dresses yonder--Bristol diamonds of the first and purest ~165~~water, I assure you; and their respected father, the wealthy proprietor of Miles's-court, Bristol, may well be delighted with his amiable and beauteous daughters. The little dapper-looking man in the white hat yonder is the liberal, good-tempered Duke of Norfolk; and the dashing _roue_ by his side, the legitimate heir to his title, is the Earl of Surrey, whose son, the young Baron of Mowbray, follows hand in hand with Captain Wollaston, an old man-of-war's man, who sails the Swallow cutter. The female group assembled in front of the King's-house are the minor constellations from East Cowes, and the congregated mixture of oddities who grace the balconies of the Pavilion boarding-house comprise every grade of society from the Oxford invalid to the retired shopkeeper, the Messieurs _Newcomes_ of the island." "A rich subject for a more extended notice," said I, "when on some future occasion I visit Margate or Brighton, where the diversity of character will be more numerous, varied, and eccentric than in this sequestered spot." As the evening advanced, the blue-eyed maid of heaven spread forth her silvery light across the glassy surface of the deep, yielding a magic power to the soul-inspiring scene, and, by reflection, doubling the objects on the sea, whose translucent bosom scarcely heaved a sigh, or murmured forth a ripple on the ear; and now, amid the stillness of the night, we were suddenly amused with the deep-sounding notes of the key-bugle reverberating over the blue waters with most harmonious effect. "We are indebted to that mad wag, Ricketts, for this unexpected pleasure," said Horace; "he is an amateur performer of no mean talent, and delights in surprising the visitors in this agreeable manner." "Rover, a-hoy," hailed a voice from the shore; off went our boat, and on its return brought an accession to our party of half a dozen right merry fellows, among whom was that choice spirit, Henry Day, whose facetious powers of oratory and whim are ~166~~universally esteemed, and have often afforded us amusement, when enjoying an evening among the eccentrics of London and the brilliants of the press, who assemble for social purposes at the Wrekin. The Days are too well known and respected as a family of long standing in the island to require the eulogy of the English Spy, but to acknowledge their hospitality and kindness he penned the following tribute ere he quitted the shores of Vectis.

LOVE, LAW, AND PHYSIC.

In Vectis' Isle three happy Days
By any may be seen:
First, James, who loves by social ways
To animate mirth's scene;
An honest lawyer, Henry, next
With speech and bottle plies you;
And when by fell disease perplex'd,
Charles physics and revives you.
"Love, law, and physic," here combine
To claim the poet's praise:
May fortune's sunbeams ever shine
On three such worthy Days.

A few more songs and a few more grogs brought on the hour of ten; and now our friends having departed to their homes, Horace and myself took a turn or two upon deck, smoked out our cigars, conjured up the reminiscences of our school-boy days, and having spent a few moments in admiration of the starry canopy which spread its spangled brightness over our heads, we sought again the cabin, drank a parting glass to old friends, turned into our births, and soon were cradled by the motion of the vessel into sweet repose. The events of the former evening, the novelty of the scene, and, above all, the magnificence of Nature, as she appeared when viewed from sea, in her diurnal progress through the transition ~167~~of morning, noon, and night, all inspired my Muse to attempt poetic sketches of the character of the surrounding island scenery. A delightful pleasure I have endeavoured to convey to my readers in the following rhymes.

MORNING IN THE ISLE OF WIGHT.

When o'er the foreland glimmering day
Just breaks above the eastern lulls,
And streaks of gold through misty gray
Dispels night's dark and vap'rous chills;
Then, when the landsman 'gins to mow
The perfumed crop on grounds above,
And sailors chant the "yeo, heave yeo,"
Then young hearts wake to life and love.
When still and slow the murmuring swell
Of ocean, rising from his throne,
O'erleaps the beach, and matin's bell
To prayer invites the college drone;
Then, when the pennant floats on high,
And anchor's weigh'd again to rove,
And tuneful larks ascend the sky,
Then young hearts wake to life and love.
When, by unerring nature's power,
Creation breaks the spell of night,
And plants their leaves expand and flow'r,
And all around breathes gay delight;
Then when the herdsman opes his fold
To let the merry lambkin rove,
And distant hills are tipt with gold,
Then young hearts wake to life and love,

~168~~

NOON IN THE ISLE OF WIGHT.

When toiling 'neath meridian sun
The boatman plies the lab'ring oar,
And sportive nymphs the margin shun
Of ocean's pebble-parched shore;
Then when beneath some shadowy cliff,
O'er-hanging wood, or leafy vale,
The trav'ller rests, haul'd up the skiff,
Then lovers breathe their am'rous tale.
When Nature, languid, seems to rest,
Nor moves a leaf, or heaves a wave,
And Zephyrs sleep, by Sol caress'd,
And sportive swallows skim the lave;
Then, when by early toil oppress'd,
The peasant seeks the glen or dale,
Enjoys his frugal meal and rest,
Then lovers breathe their am'rous tale.
When close beneath the forest's pride
The upland's group of cattle throng,
And sultry heat dissevers wide
The feather'd host of tuneful song;
Then when a still, dead, settled calm
O'er earth, and air, and sea prevail,
And lull'd is ev'ry spicy balm,
Then lovers breathe their am'rous tale.

~169~~

EVENING IN THE ISLE OF WIGHT.

When twilight tints with sober gray
The distant hills, and o'er the wave
The mellow glow of parting day
Crimsons the shipwreck'd sailor's grave;
Then when the sea-bird seeks the mast,
And signal lights illume the tower,
And sails are furl'd, and anchors cast,
Then, then is love's delicious hour.
When o'er the beach the rippling wave
Breaks gently, heaving to and fro,
Like maiden bosoms, ere the knave
Of hearts has ting'd their cheek with woe;
Then, when the watch their vigils keep,
And grog, and song, and jest have power
To laugh to scorn the peril'd deep,
Then, then is love's delicious hour.
When Cynthia sheds her mystic light
In silv'ry circles o'er the main;
And Hecate spreads her veil of night
O'er hearts that ne'er may meet again;
Then, Anna, blest with thee, I stray
'Mid scenes of bliss--through nature's bower;
While eve's star guides us on our way,
Then, then is love's delicious hour.

It has often been observed by inquisitive travellers, that in most of our country villages not only the three best houses are inhabited by the lawyer, the parson, and the doctor, but three-fourths of the whole property of the place is generally monopolized by the same disinterested triumvirate: however true the satire ~170~~may be in a general sense, it certainly does not apply to Cowes, where the liberal professions are really practised by liberal minds, and where the desire to do good outweighs the desire to grow rich. But the good people of Cowes are not without their nabobs; for instance, the eastern shores of the river are under the dominion of Lord Henry Seymour and Mr. Nash, who there rule over their humble tenantry with mild paternal sway. On the western side, the absolute lords of the soil are Messrs. Bennett and Ward: the first, like other great landed proprietors, almost always an absentee; and the last somewhat greedy to grapple at every thing within his reach. "Who does that fine park and mansion belong to?" said a stranger, surveying Northwood from the summit of the hill. "King George," replied the islander. "And who owns the steam-boats, which I now see arriving?" "King George," reiterated the fellow. "And who is the largest proprietor of the surrounding country?" "King George." "Indeed!" said the stranger, "I was not aware that the crown lands were so extensive in the Wight. Have you much game?" "Ees, ees." "And who is the lord of the manor?" "King George." "And these new roads I see forming, are they also done by King George?" "Ees, ees, he ought to gi' us a few new ones, I think; bekase Ize zure he's stopped up enou of our old ones." "What, by some new inclosure act, I suppose?" "Naye, naye, by some old foreclosure acts, I expect." "Why, you do not mean to say that our gracious sovereign is a money-lender and mortgagee?" "No; but our ungracious king be the', and a money-maker too." "Fellow, take care; you are committing treason against the Lord's anointed." "Ees, ees, he be a 'nointed one, zure enou," retorted the fellow, laughing outright in the traveller's face. "Sirrah," said the offended stranger, "I shall have you taken before a justice." "Ees, ees, Ize heard o' them ere chaps at East Cowes, but Ize ~171~~not much respect for 'em." "Not care for the magistrate!" "Lord love you,--you be one of the Mr. Newcome, Ize warrant me; why, we've gotten no zuch animal here, nothing o' sort nearer as Newport; and lawyer Day can out-talk the best of them there, whenever he likes." "There must be some mistake here," said the stranger, cooling a little of his choler: "did you not tell me, fellow, that the king of England owned all the land here, and the steam-boats, and the manor, and the town, and the people, and-----------." "Hold, hold thee there," said the islander; "I said, King George; and here he comes, in his four-wheeled calabash, and before he undertakes to give us any more new roads, I wish he'd set about mending his own queer ways" However strong the current of prejudice may run against Squire Ward in the island, among a few of the less wealthy residents, it must be admitted, that he is hospitable even to a proverb, a sincere and persevering friend, and a liberal master to his tenantry: the Christmas festivities at Northwood, when the poor are plentifully regaled with excellent cheer, smacks of a good old English custom, that shall confer upon the donor lasting praise, and hand down his name to posterity with better chance of grateful remembrance than all his mine of wealth can purchase; there are some well authenticated anecdotes in circulation of George Ward, which prove that he has, with all his eccentricities,

"A tear for pity, and a hand, open as day, to melting charity."

To his enterprising spirit Cowes is indebted for much of its present popularity, the facility of travelling to and from the island being greatly aided by the steamboats (his property) from Portsmouth and Southampton; but much yet remains to be done by the inhabitants themselves, if they wish to secure their present high partronage, and increase with succeeding seasons the number of their visitors. The promenade, admirably situate for the enjoyment of the sea ~172~~breeze, and the delightful spectacle of a picturesque harbour filled with a forest of beautiful pleasure yachts, is of an evening generally obstructed by the assemblage of a juvenile band of both sexes, of the very lowest description, who render it utterly impossible for the delicate ear of female propriety to hazard coming in contact with their boisterous vulgarities. The beautiful walk round the Castle battery is wholly usurped by this congregated mass of rabble; and yet the appointment of a peace-officer, a useful animal I never once saw at Cowes, would remove the objection, and preserve a right of way and good order among the crowd that would at least render it safe, if not pleasant, to traverse the extended shore. The visit of their royal highnesses the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge to John Nash, Esq. the eminent architect, at East Cowes Castle, gave a new lustre to the enchanting scene, and afforded the English Spy a favourable opportunity for completing his sketches of the scenery and character of the island. Among the festivities which the presence of the royal visitors gave birth to, the most attractive and delightful was the grand _dejeune a la fourchette_, given at St. Lawrence by the commodore of the Yacht Club, the Right Honourable Lord Yarborough. The invitations to meet the royal party were very general, including all of note and respectability on the island, and extending to the number of six hundred persons, for whom a most liberal and princely banquet was prepared upon the lawn of a delightful cottage, near his seat of Appuldurcombe. The spot selected for this entertainment was situated under a bold line of cliffs, extending in a semicircular form for above a mile in length, and inclosing one of the most romantic of nature's variegated scenes, abounding with hill, and dale, and rich umbrageous foliage, delightfully increased by the inspiring freshness of the sea breeze, and the unbroken view of the Channel in front, and ~173~~rendered still more attractive and picturesque by the numerous tents and temporary pavilions which had been erected for the accommodation of the visitors, spreading over a line of ground like an encampment in the Pyrenees, a similitude of feature that was more powerfully increased when the well-concerted echo of the signal bugles resounded from hill to hill, and the cannon's loud report, from the battery beneath, reverberating through the surrounding hill and dale, proclaimed for many a mile the gladsome tidings of the approach of royalty. The scene was, beyond description, magnificent; the assemblage of fashionables included a long list of noble and distinguished persons, who, on the approach of the duke and duchess, congregated upon an eminence, immediately opposite the entrance to the lawn, and by their loyal cheers, and smiles, and birthday suits, gave honest welcome to their monarch's brother, and in the fulness of their hearty zeal, paid a grateful tribute to their absent king. The ungenial state of the morning's weather had prevented many of the yachts from coming round, but a few jolly hearts had weathered the Needles, and displayed their loyalty by decorating their vessels with all the colours of all the nations of the world. At an appointed signal the tents were thrown open, and the royal party having retired to the pavilion, the company sat down to an entertainment, where a profusion of choice wines and viands covered the extended line; then commenced the interchange of bright eyes and soft sayings, and the rosy blush of maiden beauty tinged the cheek of many a sylphic form as the accomplished beau challenged the fair to wine with him, and many a heart from that day's sportive scene shall date the first impression of the soveieign passion which blends with life's red current all of happiness or misery here below. The repast over, the company again met the royal party and promenaded on the lawn, and while thus ~174~~engaged, a new delight was prepared for them--a scene not less congenial than peculiar to the English character, and one which may well uplift that honest pride of country which ever animates a Briton's heart. The tables being again replenished, the peasantry of the surrounding districts were admitted and regaled with unrestricted hospitality.

And round the gay board cheerful Industry shone,
In a pureness and brightness to wealth oft unknown;
'Twas a feast where a monarch might wish to preside,
For the cottager's comfort's his country's pride;
And Benevolence smiled on the heart-moving scene,
And music and beauty enlivened the green,
While the labourer, gratefully raising the glass,
Gave his king, then his donor, his dame, and his lass.