The fact that much of the difference in intellectual capacity so strongly characterizing different individuals arises from their various powers over the flow and logical association of ideas, has scarcely elicited the attention it so well deserves. It is of immense importance in the history of mental development. If an individual connects his ideas with difficulty, or can continue to chain them in rational sequence only with the most laborious efforts, he will have either a dull and heavy, or flighty and illogical, mind.

If another has great trouble in modifying or arranging the association of ideas which arise spontaneously in the soul, he will suffer himself to be ruled by them, in place of exercising rational domination over them; he will pursue every chimera; he will trust every impulse; he will but dream, even when he tries to think; and will be of a weak and fickle, but obstinate and self-opinionated, intellect. His whole exhaustive logic will consist in clothing in exact and reiterated assertions the heterogeneous order in which ideas are arbitrarily, accidentally, and spontaneously associated in his own imagination.

Another will associate his ideas in logical sequence, yet with startling rapidity; in a manner and through subtle relations quite unknown to common men, incapable of such vivid, rational, and consequential combinations; and will, in consequence, be a man of clear and vivid intellect.

The wonderful faculty of improvisation so often seen in Italy, is an example of the power of appropriate and rapid association. There is no doubt that this power is susceptible of development and cultivation, and that much that is brilliant in intuition is lost through the want of it. In spite of this, no system has as yet been devised for its culture. Let him who would labor for the real improvement of humanity think of it, write for it, and aid us in its development: as the law of internal unity with regard to the immense range of possible associations is so vital to our moral well being, so essential to our intellectual sanity, let our deepest thinkers devote themselves to its culture in the race!

We may distinctly trace the intuitive strivings of the human spirit for unity even in the theology of nations without revelation. In one of the ancient fragments of Greek poetry known as Orphic Hymns, we find them thus articulated:

'Jupiter is the First and Last; Jupiter is man and immortal Virgin; Jupiter is the base of Earth and Heaven; Jupiter is the living breath of all beings; Jupiter is the source of Fire; the root of the Sea; Jupiter is the Sun and Moon; Jupiter is King of the universe; He created all things; He is a Living Force; a God; the Heart of all that is;—a supernal Body which embraces all bodies, fire, water, earth, air, night, day, with Metis the first Generatrix, and Love, full of magic. All that is, is contained in the immense Body of Jupiter.'

The reader will not fail to observe how much this Greek hymn resembles in its spirit the extract we have already given him from the Vedas; how closely it coincides with the transcendental philosophy of the Hindoos.

But the idea of God, vague and indeterminate apart from revelation, soon lost its pantheistic unity in the wildest polytheistic variety. The primitive idea of unity, passing through the distorting prism of the fallen and corrupt human imagination, was divided, decomposed, clothed in a thousand colors and forms to allure and satisfy the senses. Thus there was no part of nature without its appropriate god, invested with supreme power over the class of being subjected to its care. No one had ever seen any one of these gods, but the people had no doubt of their existence. Names in close accordance with their separate functions were given them; these names became symbols destined to represent the different active principles of the physical world.

Thus in their literary and sacred language they substituted the names of Jupiter, Hyades, Hamadryads, Apollo, for those of Air, Fountains, Forests, and Sun. Nature almost disappeared under this traditionary language, which, giving play to the lighter fancy, chilled the imagination, and singularly limited the view. Indeed, it so amused and allured the fancy by its diversity that the mind scarcely cared to rise from this fantastic and grotesque world to seek the sublime principles of Infinity, of Unity. If the ancients had regarded nature as a vast system of signs designed to manifest the ideas of the Great Artist; if they had at all understood the marvellous Unity of the Divine Works, it would have been worse than idle in them to have invented a language which thus lowered nature, robbing it of its solemn majesty, its august dignity. As all these divinities had the human figure, God was banished from His own universe, man everywhere substituting his own personality. Speaking of the great dearth of vivid descriptions of natural scenery among the ancients, Chateaubriand says: 'It must not be supposed that men as full of sensibility as the ancients wanted eyes to see nature, or talent to depict it, if some powerful cause had not blinded and misled them; this cause was their mythology, which, peopling the universe with graceful phantoms, robbed creation of its solemnity, of its sublime repose. Christianity came—and fauns, satyrs, and wanton nymphs disappeared; the grottos regained their holy silence; the dim woods their mystic reveries; the vast forests their vague and sublime melancholy; the streams overturned their petty urns to drink only from the mountain tops, to pour forth only the waters of the abyss. The true and One God, in reappearing in His own mystical works, again breathed through the voice of nature the secret thrill of His perfect Unity, His incomprehensible Infinity.'

'Earth outgrows the mythic fancies Sung beside her in her youth; And those debonaire romances Sound but dull beside the truth. Phoebus' chariot race is run! Look up, poets, to the Sun! Pan, Pan is dead.

'Christ hath sent us down the angels; And the whole earth and the skies Are illumed by altar candles Lit for blessed mysteries; And a Priest's hand through creation Waveth calm and consecration— And Pan is dead.

'O brave Poets, keep back nothing; Mix not falsehood with the whole! Look up Godward! speak the truth in Worthy song from earnest soul! Hold, in high poetic duty, Truest truth, the fairest Beauty! Pan, Pan is dead.'

As we have already intimated, Pantheism is the negation of the Divine Personality in order to arrive at Unity; Polytheism is the negation of the Divine Unity, which is fractioned and divided that its multitudinous action may be conceived. The light fancy was delighted with such divisions, resulting in varied gods and goddesses; but the soul could find no satisfaction for its deeper needs in such conceptions; urged on by its secret instincts, it sought to recompose the broken unity of the divine nature.

All government requires a Head; and when an attempt was made to apply the heterogeneous qualities and contradictory powers of the gods to the regulation of society—when it was necessary to find in an Olympus filled with quarrels and scandals, a steady Power capable of directing the destinies of a great people toward a single aim—men were again forced to recompose the fractioned Unity, to form an idea of one God superior to those with whom they had peopled earth and heaven. They were thus forced upon the conception of a Being superior to Jupiter, who subjected all the gods to his inflexible laws; and giving wings to those instincts of dread always present in the soul of a fallen race, they invented an invisible Divinity who never manifested himself to men; who dwelt in inaccessible and dreadful regions, in which an inscrutable Horror forever reigned; and through this new Terror, Unity was again brought into the design of creation, for all beings were, in despite of themselves, forced to fulfil the decrees of its pitiless will. All struggle was vain, all effort useless, prayer was without avail, and human anguish utterly unheeded by this terrific phantom of irresistible and crushing Power without a heart!

It is this dread idea which, pervading the pages of Eschylus, gives them that peculiar character of simplicity and grandeur, with which no other tragedies are marked in a like degree. Such was the source of the inspiration of classic tragedy, the spring of that stern and severe poetry which throws the lurid hues of a melancholy so profound upon the pallid and affrighted face of humanity. Man, struggling with all the gloomy energy of despair against this vague but formidable Horror, which no virtue or agony could conciliate—this dark Fate, the creation of his own misled and perverted intuitions—and vainly seeking to escape from the inflexible circle which he had traced around himself, is an object which cannot fail to awaken the deepest pity. He asks from his fellow men, from nature, from the gods, the meaning of the dire enigma of life. Alas! they leave him to struggle in the stony hands of an unbending Fate! no reply is ever given to his wild demand, and the 'veil of Isis is never raised!' The world quivered under some strange anathema; a mystic malediction wreathed its thorns round the anguished heads of men; even in the midst of their festivals, when seeming to drink deep of joy from the brimming cup of life, the invisible hand of a Gorgon Fate was forever felt tracing upon their walls the decrees of a dark, inscrutable, inflexible, and terrible destiny!

Yet there are poets among us, who would willingly return to the days of Paganism, and resuscitate the gods of Greece!

'Get to dust as common mortals, By a common doom and track! Let no Schiller from the portals Of that Hades call you back, Or instruct us all to weep: Everlasting be your sleep! Pan, Pan is dead!'

''Twas the hour when one in Zion Hung for Love's sake on a cross— When His brow was chill with dying, And His soul was faint with loss; When His priestly blood dropped downward; And His kingly eyes looked homeward— Then Pan was dead!'

The Prometheus of the rock, the Tantalus of the fable, man, plunged in this world of woe with his lips thirsty for happiness, stretches out his hand to pluck the bitter Dead-Sea fruits of this earth. With his profound instincts of the Infinite, his craving for the Absolute, he seizes madly upon every object which suggests their image to him; the foul fiend, adapting his temptations to the nature of the tempted, still whispers, as into the ear of the mother of mankind: 'Ye shall be as gods;'—but the phenomenal flies before him, and he everywhere falls upon the thorns closely hedging in the narrow circle of the actual. Without Faith, the artist is among the most miserable of men, for through the illimitable horizons of the Infinite, genius catches secrets which it can never fully utter; symbolic signs, whose sense it cannot articulate; while the voice of the invisible Love loads every breeze. What profound and mournful aspirations for that Unknown which the mortal may not see, surge through the soul of the imaginative!

'E'en the flowing azure air Thou hast charmed for his despair.'

While the artist strives to incorporate with the works which their presence shall render immortal, suggestions of Infinity, of Unity, let him hopefully turn to the Author of all Beauty for true inspiration and peace.

As satisfaction and response to the longings of the spirit, the Gospel has brought Life and Immortality to light. The assurance that 'God is Love' responds to the inmost wish of the soul. The problem of antiquity, the possible Union of the finite with the Infinite, has been solved in the most marvellous manner. No longer are we oppressed with the loss of all personal identity, all moral responsibility, as in pantheism; nor confused by the debasing fractioning of the Divine Unity, as in polytheism; nor bound hand and foot under the crushing despotism of a pitiless Fate;—but in the Glorified Humanity of Christ these perplexing problems of the soul are answered, and the incomprehensible union of the Infinite and finite at last accomplished, He took our nature upon Him that Infinite Love might pass through all degrees of suffering, even to the last dying gasp of agony, to release us from the horrors of the 'second death.' Every human feeling is known to Him, but in infinite purity; the Real and Ideal are in equal perfection. Far higher, indeed, than the most sublime conception that uninspired thought could ever have engendered; human, yet far above humanity; ruling all ages; winning all adoration; sublime in tender simplicity—behold the meek Lamb of God, the Holy Son of the Blessed Virgin!

Oh, eternal, immaculate Beauty! if in this world Thou but sufferest us to divine Thy Perfections; if Thou hast given us ephemeral delights which always escape our eager grasp at the very moment we dream of their full enjoyment; if the flower fades so fast—the days of spring are so fleeting; if nature, like a thick veil thrown between this world and the next, suffers but a few rays of Thy glory to pierce its folds, while it keeps us from Thee even in kindling the flame of desires which it never satisfies—it is because Thou knowest that in the inexhaustible richness of Thy Being there are everlasting fountains to quench the insatiate thirst of the human soul, when in the bosom of infinite splendor we may contemplate and adore Thee forever and ever!

'That they all may be One, as Thou, Father, in me, and I in Thee: that they also may be one in us.'

Oh, inconceivable and glorious Unity! What wonder that thy types on earth are so full of meaning—so rich in delight!



THE BUCCANEERS OF AMERICA.

II.

A still more terrible name to the Spaniards, as a leader of the buccaneers, was Francis Lolonois, a Frenchman, who in his youth was transported as a slave to the Caribbean Islands. Passing thence to Tortuga, he became a common mariner, and conducted himself so well in several voyages as to win the confidence of the governor, M. de la Place, who gave him a ship in which to seek his fortune. The beginning of his career on his own account was favorable; but his cruelties toward the Spaniards were such as to make his name terrible throughout the Indies; and the Spanish mariner preferred death in any form to falling into his hands. Fortune, however, being ever inconstant, Lolonois did not escape reverses. Encountering a tempest on the coast of Campeachy, his ship was wrecked, and himself and crew cast on shore. Scarcely had he dried his dripping clothes when he was met by an armed force, and defeated in a severe battle. Being wounded, and concealing himself among the dead bodies of his companions, he escaped, and arrived at Campeachy in disguise, in time to take part in the thanksgiving and religious rejoicings of the Spaniards on account of his supposed death. Here he succeeded in enticing some slaves from their masters, with whom he again put to sea, with the design of ravaging the small town of De los Cayes, on the south side of Cuba. Divining his project, however, some fishermen conveyed information to the governor at Havana, who immediately despatched a vessel of war of ten guns in pursuit, with orders not to return until the pirates were captured, and every man executed except Lolonois himself, who was to be brought to Havana. This vessel entered the port of De los Cayes while the pirates were yet at sea; but they were advised of every particular of the pursuit, and concerted their measures accordingly.

It was on a clear, starlight night, when the Spaniard lay quietly at anchor in the glassy waters of the bay,

'Secure that nought of evil could delight To walk in such a scene on such a night,'

that the pirates entered the harbor in two canoes. Stealing upon their intended prey so silently as to escape observation, they boarded her on both sides at once, and, after a sharp conflict, succeeded in her capture. Lolonois then informed the prisoners that he knew their orders, and it was his purpose to execute them upon those who were to have enforced them upon him. Supplications and entreaties were in vain. He successively struck off the heads of every one with his own hand—sucking, at each stroke, the drops of blood that trickled from his sabre. Only one person was saved, whom he sent back to the governor with a letter stating what he had done, and declaring his determination thenceforward to show no quarter to a Spaniard, adding: 'I have great hopes I shall execute on your own person the punishment I have upon those you sent against me. Thus have I retaliated the kindness you designed to me and my companions.' The governor was much troubled at the message, and declared that no quarter should ever again be granted to a pirate; but knowing who would have the advantage in such a war of retaliation, the inhabitants induced him to change his determination.

Encouraged by his success, Lolonois forthwith set about organizing a force to make a descent upon the main, with a view of taking Maracaibo itself. While engaged in these preparations, he formed a connection with Michael de Basco, who, having retired from the sea, was living upon his gains. De Basco had served in the wars of Europe as an officer with distinguished gallantry; and he now engaged with Lolonois as the land commander. When the expedition sailed, it consisted of eight vessels and six hundred men. On their passage they fell in with a Spanish armed ship from Porto Rico for New Spain. Lolonois parted from the fleet and insisted on engaging the Spaniard alone. He did so, and carried the ship after an engagement of three hours. She mounted sixteen guns, carried a crew of sixty men, and was, moreover, richly laden with specie, jewels, and merchandise. Shortly after another vessel was taken, when on her voyage to Hispaniola to pay the troops. This was a valuable capture, the prize being laden with arms and ammunition as well as specie. The prize vessels were sent into Tortuga, where they were unladen; and one of them was immediately armed and sent back to join the main squadron as the flagship. Their marine thus augmented, they sailed first into the Bay of Venerada, the fort guarding the entrance to which was taken, the guns spiked, and the garrison, numbering two hundred and fifty men, put to the sword. The pirates next sailed into the Lake of Maracaibo, landed their forces, and proceeded at once to attack the castle that guarded the entrance to the harbor. The governor had made judicious dispositions for its defence, having formed an ambuscade for the purpose of bringing the pirates between two fires. His design, however, in this respect, was frustrated, for those forming the ambuscade, being discovered and routed, fled to the town, the inhabitants of which, remembering the former visitation of the pirates, deserted in wild consternation, and fell back upon Gibraltar, thirty leagues distant. Meantime the pirates, though armed with swords and pistols only, attacked the castle with such impetuosity as to compel its capitulation. The slaughter was great. After the surrender the guns were spiked, and the castle demolished. The next day the invaders advanced upon the town, which they found desolate. It was well stored with provisions, but all the valuables had been removed or buried. Lolonois demanded information of the prisoners where the plate, jewels, and money were concealed, and attempts were made to extort confessions by the rack, but to little purpose. He then hacked one of the prisoners to pieces with his sword, declaring that such should be the fate of all, unless the hidden treasures of the town should be forthcoming. But the poor wretches were unable to give the information, as the owners had fled as best they could, changing their own hiding places, and taking away their valuables. Having remained fifteen days in Maracaibo, and supposing that the people had carried their treasures with them to Gibraltar, Lolonois determined to sail to that town. The deputy governor, however, without the knowledge of the pirates, had made vigorous preparations for its defence; and accordingly, on their arrival in sight of the town, they unexpectedly discovered the royal standard floating from two strong batteries guarding a very narrow channel through which the pirate squadron must pass. A council of war was called, at which, after a spirited speech from Lolonois, it was agreed to land and carry the works by storm—the leader declaring that he would pistol any man who should flinch, with his own hand. The Spanish forces numbered eight hundred men, well appointed; but nothing could daunt the resolution of the pirates. The Spaniards conducted themselves bravely; and not until five hundred of their number had fallen did they yield. The buccaneers had eighty killed and wounded, not one of the latter recovering—an evidence of the desperation with which they fought. The town of Gibraltar, of course, fell into their hands; but it was a bootless conquest, inasmuch as during the time the pirates had wasted at Maracaibo, the people had secured their treasure by carrying it away. To save the town from the torch, however, the inhabitants paid a ransom of ten thousand pieces of eight, yet not until a portion of it had been burned. After spending two months on shore, the buccaneers reembarked, carrying away all the crosses, pictures, and bells of the churches, for the purpose, as they alleged, of erecting a chapel in the island of Tortuga, to which pious object a portion of the spoils was to be consecrated! The amount of their booty, during their expedition, was two hundred and sixty thousand pieces of eight, together with vast quantities of plate, jewels, and merchandise—most of which was soon dissipated, after their return, in debauchery, and other rude pleasures of such a ruffian race.

The next exploit of Lolonois was the capture, in the mouth of the Guatemala river, of a Spanish ship, carrying forty-two guns, and manned by one hundred and thirty fighting men; the pirate carrying only twenty-two guns, and being attended by a single small vessel. The Spaniard made a good defence, and the pirate chief was at first repulsed. Yet afterward, under cover of a thick mist, rendered more dense by the smoke of the powder, the pirates boarded the Spaniard from their small craft, and bravely accomplished their purpose.

The career of this desperado was soon to come to an end. Shortly after this last exploit, while cruising in the Bay of Honduras, his own ship was wrecked, and he, together with his crew, were thrown upon an island. Their next business was to build a boat from the remains of the broken ship—a work which occupied them six months, and when finished she would carry but half their number—the other half remaining behind by lot. Lolonois then directed his course for Carthagena; but venturing ashore at Darien, he was made prisoner by a wild tribe of Indians, who became the instruments of divine justice in avenging his many cruelties. They were not ignorant of his character, and, believing that no trace or memorial of such a wretch ought to remain upon earth, they tore him in pieces alive, throwing his body limb by limb into the fire, and afterward scattering his ashes to the winds. Fitting death for such a horrible monster!

But the career of the most formidable chief in this bloody catalogue remains yet to be described. It was that of Henry Morgan, whose very name, as it has been justly remarked, 'spread such terror abroad, that with it the old women frightened their children asleep, and then lay awake themselves through fear.' Morgan was the son of a wealthy farmer in Wales, but not satisfied with his secluded condition, he sought a seaport, and sailed for Barbadoes, where he was sold for a term of years for his passage. The term of his service having expired, he repaired to Jamaica, where the temptations spread before him by the buccaneers of rapidly arriving at wealth and fame, induced him to join their community. In the course of several voyages, which were attended with great success, he evinced so much intrepidity, skill, prudence, and judgment, as to win the confidence of his companions, several of whom proposed the purchase of a ship on joint account, the command of which was conferred on him. About this time, also, Morgan became acquainted with Mausvelt, an old pirate, and who had now on foot an expedition destined for a descent upon the Spanish main. Mausvelt induced Morgan to join him as his vice-admiral, and they were shortly at sea with a fleet of fifteen sail, great and small, and five hundred men, chiefly French and Maroons. Their course was first directed against the two small islands, nearly contiguous, of St. Catharine's, on the coast of Costa Rica. These, though strongly fortified, were easily taken, by reason of the inefficiency both of the commander and his troops, superinduced by the terror inspired by the very name of the pirates. The design of Mausvelt in the acquisition of these islands, was to fortify and hold them as a place of rendezvous. Leaving, therefore, a garrison of one hundred men in the forts, Mausvelt and Morgan continued their course to the main; but as a knowledge of their intentions had preceded them, such preparations had been made by the Spaniards on the coast for their reception, as induced them to return to St. Catharine's. Thence they sailed back to Jamaica for recruits; but not being favored by the governor, Mausvelt repaired to Tortuga, where he died. The command now devolved upon Morgan, who endeavored to prosecute the designs of his predecessor; but the Spaniards having regained possession of St. Catharine's, his projects were for a time defeated. Not only had the Spaniards recovered the island, but a large English ship, despatched thither from Jamaica for the aid of the buccaneers, and well supplied with arms, men, provisions, and women, also fell into their hands. This was a severe disappointment to Morgan, who had made extensive arrangements for preserving St. Catharine's as a storehouse and place of refuge, and had opened a correspondence with Virginia and New England upon the subject. These events took place in 1665.

But, far from relinquishing the profession he had chosen, Morgan had only just entered upon it. He soon succeeded in organizing another fleet of nine sail of different-sized vessels, manned by four hundred and fifty men. With these he made sail for Porto Bello, the third strongest post at that time in the American dominions of Spain. In order to secure secrecy, Morgan had communicated his purpose to no living soul, until he came almost in view of the town. Some of his bold spirits then faltered for a moment; but he had the power to dissipate their doubts of success, even against odds so great. Landing his forces in the night, Morgan arrived at the very citadel before he was discovered, having taken captive the sentinel so suddenly as to prevent the least alarm. The castle was summoned to surrender on pain of putting every man found therein to death. The summons being disregarded, the assault was begun, and bravely repelled for a time; but the fortress was at length compelled to yield to the impetuous assaults of the pirates. But there were yet other castles, and one of the strongest, to be subdued. With this latter Morgan was hotly engaged from daylight until noon—losing many of his men, and at times almost despairing himself of success. At length another of the lesser castles gave way, and Morgan was encouraged and strengthened by the return of the detachment that had been engaged against it. As a device, moreover, to compel the Spanish governor to yield the principal castle, the pirate chief caused its walls to be planted round with scaling ladders, upon which, in front of his own men, the religious prisoners in his hands, priests and nuns, were forced to ascend. But although these people called to the governor in the name of all their saints to yield and save their lives, his determination was inflexible. He declared he would yield only with his life, and that the castle should be defended to the last. Night approached, and the contest yet raged; but finally, after performing prodigies of valor, the assailants succeeded in scaling the walls, and the castle was entered sword in hand. The garrison thereupon submitted, all but the governor, who, deaf to the entreaties of his wife and daughter, fought on, killing several of the pirates with his own hand, and also some of his own soldiers for surrendering, until he was himself killed. The entire town was now in possession of the rapacious invaders; and all the treasures of the churches, having been placed in the castles for safety, of course fell into the hands of the victors, as also did a vast amount of money and plate.

Amazed that a town so strongly fortified as Porto Bello, and so well garrisoned, should have been captured by so small a force, the president of Panama sent a message to Morgan, desiring a pattern of the arms by which he had performed so desperate an exploit. Morgan treated the messenger with courtesy, and returned to the president a pistol and several bullets, as a slender pattern of the arms he had used, requesting his Excellency to preserve them carefully for a twelvemonth, when he promised to come to Panama and bring them away. The president, however, sent the articles back again, to save the pirate chief the trouble of coming after them. He also sent him as a gift a gold ring, with a civil request that he would not trouble himself to come to Panama at the time mentioned, since he would not be likely to fare so well as he had at Porto Bello. Morgan, after having destroyed the military walls at Porto Bello, reembarked with his numbers greatly diminished by battle, debauchery, and disease, and returned to Jamaica.

The fame of exploits like these caused the name of Morgan to resound throughout Europe; and large numbers of the English chivalry, men of family and rank, hastened to the New World, either to mend dilapidated fortunes, or to acquire new ones, and to participate in the unlawful glory which even the darkness of the deeds by which it was won could not eclipse. These recruits attached themselves to Morgan, and eagerly accepted commands under him. The bold rover gave them commissions in the name of the king of England, authorizing them to commit hostilities against the Spaniards, whom he declared to be the enemies of the British crown. To such an amazing extent did the buccaneering system increase, that more than four thousand men were now engaged in it, two thousand of whom were under Morgan, with a fleet of thirty-seven vessels, divided into squadrons, and appointed with all the formality of an independent sovereignty. Their place of rendezvous was between Tortuga and St. Domingo, the coast of the latter being plundered for provisions. A squadron of four sail was also sent to the region of the Rio de la Hacha upon the same errand, where a large ship was captured, the coast successfully ravaged, and many prisoners put to death, as in former instances, by the most exquisite tortures.

All things being in readiness, the expedition sailed in December, 1670, the ultimate destination of which was to pay the promised visit to the governor of Panama—the richest city of Spanish America. Preliminary, however, to their landing upon the isthmus, a detachment of the fleet was sent against a fortress at the mouth of the Chagu—which river it was necessary to ascend before disembarking for Panama. This fortress was built upon a steep rock, against which the waves of the sea were continually breaking, and was defended by an officer of distinguished ability and courage, and by a garrison in all respects worthy of such a commander. For a time the contest was doubtful, but the fates favored the freebooters. The Spanish commander was slain, and, the fort taking fire, the position fell into the hands of the besiegers. The manner in which the fire was communicated to the fortress was very remarkable. During the fight, an arrow from the bow of one of the garrison was lodged in the eye of one of the pirates, standing near his chief. Extracting the barbed shaft from his head with his own hand, and binding some cotton around the missile, he set it on fire, and shot it back into the fortress from the barrel of his gun. The burning arrow fell upon the roof of a house thatched with palm leaves, which were dry, and a conflagration ensued, which the garrison strove in vain to resist. But for this untoward occurrence, it was believed that Brodley, the pirate vice-admiral, would have been repulsed.

Brodley was now joined by the main fleet under Morgan himself; and the vessels, having been brought to anchor, were left with a sufficient guard, while the commander, with twelve hundred men, embarked in boats and canoes, and commenced the ascent of the river toward the capital, the sacking of which was to be the crowning act of his career of outrage and blood. They were compelled soon to leave their boats; and their march for nine days was one of the severest operations ever successfully encountered by man. The country was desolate, villages and plantations being alike deserted, and in the flight of the people nothing had been left behind that could possibly be converted into food, or in any wise minister to the cupidity of the invaders. The hardships they underwent in climbing mountains almost inaccessible, and traversing morasses nearly impassable, while in a state bordering upon starvation, exceed the power of language to describe. The carcass of an ass found by the way afforded an uncooked tempting meal; and such cats and dogs as did not flee with their owners, were considered delicious morsels.

On the eighth day a narrow defile was feebly defended by a company of Indians, by whom ten of the pirates were killed, and fourteen others wounded. On the ninth, having gained the summit of a lofty mountain, to their infinite delight they came in view of the great Southern ocean, and saw beneath them the glittering spires of Panama, and the shipping in the harbor. The despondency which had been brooding over them for several days, was now lighted up by the most extravagant demonstrations of joy. They leaped, and sang, and threw up their hats, and blew their trumpets, and beat their arms, as though the prize were already their own without a struggle. Seemingly refreshed in strength by the sight of the object of their desires, the pirates rushed eagerly forward, and before nightfall encamped upon the great plain on which stood the city, dispersing with ease several strong reconnoitring parties who had thrown themselves in their way. The Spaniards had evidently been preparing for their reception, and they played their artillery upon the invaders all night, but with little effect; the pirates sleeping on the grass with great composure, anxious for the arrival of the day which was to reward their sufferings with untold riches.

The invaders were early on foot on the morning of the tenth day, and in full march for the city. Arriving upon the summit of a little hill, they were brought to a pause by a force which they saw advancing to meet them. Their own numbers had been reduced on the march to less than a thousand effective men; and they now beheld an army consisting of two squadrons of horse, and four regiments of foot, led by the governor in person, and preceded by a large herd of wild bulls, the design of which singular description of light troops was to throw the buccaneers into confusion. Beyond these, in immediate proximity to the city, they discovered the people of Panama in arms, in yet greater numbers. The action with the advanced army, under the governor, soon commenced, the wild cattle being of no avail against the pirates, who shot them all down in a very brief space of time. But the Spaniards, especially the cavalry, fought bravely for more than two hours. The horse having at length been compelled to yield, the infantry fled, after a brief resistance. Six hundred Spaniards lay dead upon the field, and the buccaneers suffered so severely that they were forced to desist from an immediate pursuit, and obtain some rest. From a prisoner they ascertained that the city was defended by two thousand five hundred men, with a large number of heavy guns, planted at different points. But the buccaneers, though sadly diminished in numbers, were determined to finish the work they had begun on the same day; and taking an oath that they would stand by each other to the last, they again advanced, and a second fierce and bloody encounter took place at the very gates of the city, which, after a resistance of three hours, fell into the hands of the buccaneers. Neither party gave or received quarter, and after the conquest the pirates killed nearly all who fell into their hands, sparing neither ecclesiastics nor women.

The city was at that time one of remarkable splendor, containing two thousand houses of great magnificence. The private dwellings were chiefly built of cedar, and embellished with hangings, paintings, and everything that luxury and taste could supply. It was the see of a bishop, with two large churches, and seven monasteries, all richly adorned with altar pieces, paintings, gold, silver, and precious stones. But the gorgeous palaces and solemn temples were doomed to the flames by the order of Morgan himself, although he afterward endeavored to fix the act of vandalism upon others. They were probably burned in revenge because found empty, for many of the inhabitants had sought refuge in flight, carrying away such of their valuables as they could. Still, by the horrible processes of torture, immense discoveries were made of treasures concealed in the wells and caves, and in the woods. Some valuable freights were taken from boats in the harbor, which had been left aground at low water; and rich deposits were frequently discovered in the earth, under the excruciating tortures of the rack.

Morgan lingered at Panama for a considerable period, until, indeed, his men began to murmur at their protracted inactivity. The cause of this inaction will hardly be divined from the character thus far developed of this stupendous freebooter; but it was the tender passion! He had among his prisoners a beautiful Spanish lady, who attracted his particular attention. She was a native of Spain, and the wife of an opulent merchant, whose business had some time before called him to Peru. According to the historians of that day, she was still in the bloom of youth; 'Her cheeks, naturally ruddy, were heightened by a tropical sun into a warmer glow; and her fine black eyes, dazzling with uncommon lustre, gave animation to the noblest countenance that ever the hand of nature delineated, or poet's fancy conceived. The interest which her unhappy situation excited was heightened into admiration by her elevated mien; and her whole deportment indicated a soul incapable of being degraded from its native rank, by any reverse of condition, or any depth of misery.' Morgan, rude as he was, and unused to the melting mood, was nevertheless charmed with her conversation, and the admiration which he felt for her bearing was ere long changed into yet more tender emotions. He provided a house for her, and assigned to her service a retinue of domestics. Shortly afterward he attempted to open such a correspondence with her as might favor his desires, but failing in this, he proceeded to usurp some freedoms, at which her delicacy revolted. Her rebuke, firm and noble, drove him back abashed; but his impetuous temper could not well brook disappointment, and in the ardor of his passion he subsequently attempted to force her into compliance with his brutal desires. But with a virtue as exalted as that of the Roman matron, who resisted, but in vain, the advances of the son of Tarquin, and with a yet higher courage, she sprang from his attempted embrace, exclaiming, 'Stop! Thinkest thou, then, that thou canst ravish mine honor from me, as thou hast wrested from me my fortune and my liberty? Be assured that I can die and be avenged!' Having said this, she drew from her bosom a poniard, which she would have plunged into his breast, had he not avoided the blow. From that moment she became an object not only of his hate, but of his cruelty, until at length she was ransomed by some of her friends. History has not preserved the name of this lofty specimen of female purity and honor; but, like that of Lucretia, it deserves the topmost niche in the temple of virtue.

At length, in the month of February, Morgan took his departure from Panama, having one hundred and seventy-five beasts of burden laden with silver and gold, jewelry, and other precious things. He also took with him six hundred prisoners, men, women, and children, for the purpose of extorting enormous ransoms for them by the way; the cries of the women and children were pitiful to hear; but the freebooter's heart was steeled against every humane emotion. Returning down the river Chagre, he destroyed the castle at its entrance, and prepared to reembark for Jamaica. Before going on board, however, a division of the plunder was made, which gave great dissatisfaction. It seemed unaccountable to his men that so large an apparent amount of booty should yield only about two hundred pieces of eight per capita, and rumors of foul play were rife. Meantime he had richly laden his own ship with merchandise; and in the course of the following night, while his companions were in a deep sleep, he put to sea and escaped to Jamaica, and thence to England. Such an instance of treachery had never been before known among the buccaneers, and the rage and resentment that ensued cannot be described. His departure was the signal for the dispersion of the fleet. The French returned to Tortuga. Some of the English attempted to overtake the mighty robber and make him disgorge, but were unsuccessful. Others of the crews dispersed with their vessels to seek their fortunes as best they might. Morgan ultimately returned to England laden with wealth, and was well received. He afterward became a commander in the naval service of his country, and obtained the honor of knighthood from William III.

The capture of Panama, however, was the last great land expedition successfully undertaken by the buccaneers. A few other land expeditions, it is true, were begun by chiefs of lesser note; but the indifferent success which attended these, induced the freebooters insensibly to confine their operations more exclusively to the water, and there was no sea left untraversed by them, from the Atlantic to the Indian ocean. The commerce of almost all nations was annoyed by them, although their depredations continued more particularly to be directed against the first objects of their hate, the Spaniards. It is a curious fact, illustrating the corruption of the Roman Catholic Church at that time, that in one of the Spanish ships captured while on her way to South America, by an Englishman named White, there were found no less than two millions of Papal bulls, granting indulgences to the Spaniards of the New World! These were a royal trade, and had been purchased by the king of Spain for three hundred thousand florins, prime cost, and by him were designed to be retailed for five millions. Thus, by their capture, his Catholic Majesty lost the benefit of a fine speculation. Had these indulgences been captured by Yankees, they would have contrived to barter them away at a profit; or had the captors been good Catholics, they might have ravaged the whole continent with very quiet consciences, having the Pope's pardon already in their pockets.[B]

It is a curious fact, not, I believe, very extensively understood, that the great English circumnavigator Dampier was for a considerable period connected with the buccaneers after the flight of Morgan. Dampier found himself among them at first by accident, having gone ashore on the Spanish main in great distress to procure provisions. Falling in with a party of the marauders, he was induced to join them. He was at the taking of Porto Bello; and afterward crossed the Isthmus of Darien with Sawkins, Sharp, and others. Sawkins, the commander, was killed in an attack on Puebla Nova in 1679. Dampier, in his 'Voyages,' gives an interesting account of their subsequent course along the coasts, and among the islands of the Pacific, which was rather disastrous. A mutiny, however, occurring among those of the buccaneers engaged in the expedition, Dampier returned across the Isthmus and came to Virginia in July, 1682, where, after he and his companions had dissipated all their wealth, they fitted out another piratical expedition for the South seas, doubling Cape Horn in the spring of 1684. Proceeding northward to Panama, Dampier's party were joined by large numbers of buccaneers who had just crossed the Isthmus; and obtaining a number of additional vessels, they prepared to intercept the Plate fleet on its departure from Lima for Spain. After a few successes, and several disasters, Dampier and his companions sailed to the Philippine Islands in 1686; and subsequently visited most of the islands in the Pacific, sometimes rioting in luxury, and at others brought to the verge of starvation. Dampier quitted the buccaneers at the island of Nicoba, in the spring of 1688. Subsequently, however, he again joined them, as the commander of a fine vessel; but the treachery of his officers and crew defeated the objects of the cruise. Returning from this bootless voyage, he was presented to Queen Anne, and well received. He subsequently made a fourth voyage to the Pacific, during which he discovered and took from the island of Juan Fernandez the celebrated Alexander Selkirk, the hero of De Foe's Robinson Crusoe—a story ever delightful and ever new to readers old and young. The actual experience of Selkirk, as related by Dampier, corresponds more closely with the narrative, probably, than has generally been supposed.

The last great enterprise of this remarkable race of men was directed against Carthagena in 1697. It was planned in France, from one of the ports of which a squadron of twelve vessels sailed, under the command of Pointis. It was joined by twelve hundred buccaneers in the West Indies; and although Carthagena was then the strongest city in the New World, its forts and castles were carried by storm in rapid succession. The booty thus acquired by Pointis amounted to one million seven hundred and fifty thousand pounds sterling, with which he embarked and made sail. But they had not been long at sea before the buccaneers discovered that their rapacious commander was meditating how he should deprive them of their share of the plunder. Exasperated at this treatment, they at first determined to put him to death. This purpose, however, was diverted by a suggestion to return to Carthagena and demand a heavy ransom to save the city from destruction, that they might fill their pockets in that way. This project was carried into execution. Entering the city without resistance, the men were confined in the great church, and a ransom demanded of more than two hundred and eighteen thousand pounds sterling. A venerable priest ascended the pulpit, and by his eloquent address persuaded the people to comply with the demand, by surrendering all their remaining money and jewels. But the amount fell short of the demand, and the city was sacked a second time. Having amassed all the wealth they could find, the adventurers once more put to sea. But they did not long enjoy their ill-gotten riches. Meeting with a fleet of ships belonging to England and Holland, both of which nations were then in alliance with Spain, an engagement ensued, in which several of the pirates were taken and sunk, and among them were lost the treasure ships, so that the booty went to the bottom of the sea. This was the last memorable event in the history of the buccaneers of America, although a lower order of piracy prevailed, both in the Atlantic and Pacific oceans, for many years afterward.

There had been for the most part a separation between the English and French buccaneers on the revolution of 1688, which brought William and Mary to the throne of England, and terminated the friendly relations between that nation and the Gauls. By the peace of Ryswick, moreover, in 1697, peace was restored between France and Spain, and it then became the interest as well as the policy of Europe to put an end to the associated existence of the most extraordinary combination of men who ever trod the earth. History affords no parallel to the buccaneers. 'Without any regular system, without laws, without any degree of subordination, and even without any fixed revenue, they became the astonishment of the age in which they lived, as they will be of posterity.' In their actions is to be found a mixture of the most opposite feelings and principles. They were at once undauntedly brave, and cowardly brutal; full of justice and honor to each other, and yet a lawless banditti. As an evidence of their feelings of honor, it is related that on a certain occasion a company of their fraternity—'Brothers of the Coast,' as they styled themselves—had stipulated, for a certain sum, to escort a Spanish ship richly laden. One of them ventured to propose to his companions to enrich themselves at once by taking the ship. Montauban, the commander of the troop, had no sooner heard the proposal, than he desired to resign his command and be set on shore. 'What!' replied the freebooters, 'would you then leave us? Is there one among us who approves of the treachery you abhor?' A council was thereupon called, and it was agreed that the person who had made the proposition should be thrown upon the first coast they should reach. 'The history of past times,' says a quaint writer, 'doth not offer, nor will that of future times produce, an example of such an association, almost as marvellous as the discovery of the New World. Their swords and their daring spirit, which they exercised with such terrible effect, were the only fortune they possessed in Europe. In America, being enemies of all mankind, and dreaded by all, perpetually exposed to the most extreme dangers, and considering every day as their last, their wealth was dissipated in the same manner in which it was acquired. They gave themselves up to all excesses of debauchery and profusion, and on returning from their expeditions, the intoxication of their victories accompanied them in their feasts: they would embrace their mistresses in their bloody arms and fall asleep for a while, lulled by voluptuous pleasures, from which they were aroused to proceed to fresh massacres. It was a matter of indifference to them whether they left their bodies upon the earth or beneath the waters, and they consequently looked upon life and death with the same composure. Ferocious in mind, misguided in conscience, destitute of connections, of relatives, of friends, of fellow citizens, of country, of an asylum; without any of those motives which moderate the ardor of bravery by the value which they attach to existence, they were ever ready to rush, as without sight, upon the most desperate attempts. Equally incapable of submitting to indigence or quiet; too proud to employ themselves in common labor; they would have been the scourge of the Old World, had they not been that of the New.'

* * * * *

In closing this paper, it remains to glance for a moment at the real history of William Kidd, the buccaneer of the American colonies, whose name, as remarked in the former part of this article,[C] has for a hundred and fifty years stood at the head of the pirate legends of the North, but who, in reality, must have been one of the smallest members of the fraternity. I have not been able to ascertain the place of Kidd's nativity. He was, however, the captain of a merchant vessel, trading between New York and London, and was celebrated for his nautical skill and enterprise. The first mention of him, in our authentic criminal history, occurs in 1691, in which year, as we learn from the journals of the New York Assembly, much was allowed to be due him 'for the many good services done for the province in attending with his vessels.' But in what capacity, or for what object, he 'attended with his vessels,' does not appear. It was also declared that he ought to be suitably rewarded. Accordingly, in the same year, it was ordered by the Assembly 'that the sum of one hundred and fifty pounds be paid to Captain Kidd, as a suitable acknowledgement for the important benefits which the colony had derived from his services.' The presumption is, that those services were in some way connected with the protection of the colonial merchant ships from the attacks of the pirates, who were even yet hovering along the coasts of the Northern colonies. Indeed, the harbor of New York itself was no stranger to the pirate vessels, and the commerce between them and the 'people of figure' in the city was not inconsiderable. It was no secret that the pirates were freely supplied with provisions by the inhabitants of Long Island. Further yet, it was well known in the year 1695, that the English pirates had fitted out the vessels in the harbor of New York. On the arrival of the pirate vessels from their cruises, their goods were openly sold in the city, and the conduct of the Colonial Government was such, that collusion, if not actual partnerships between them and the public authorities, was not doubted. Colonel Fletcher, a poor and profligate man, was governor at that time. He was beyond doubt concerned with the freebooters, as also was William Nicoll, a member of the privy council. Complaints upon this subject having reached England, Fletcher was succeeded, in 1695, by the Earl of Bellamont, the appointment being made in the belief that, from his rank and the wealth of his character, he would be able to retrieve the character of the Colonial Government.

Justice, however, to the memory of Kidd requires it to be said that he was not at that period, so far as it is known, a pirate himself. Before Lord Bellamont sailed from England for his government, he met with Robert Livingston of New York—the ancestor of the Livingstons of Livingston's Manor—with whom he held a conversation respecting the pirates, and the best means that could be adopted to put them down. The project of employing a swift-sailing armed ship of thirty guns, and one hundred and fifty men, to cruise against them, was spoken of; and Livingston recommended his lordship to Kidd, as a man of integrity and courage, acquainted with the pirates and their places of rendezvous, and as one in all respects fit to be intrusted with the command of a vessel engaged in such a difficult service. He had, indeed, commanded a privateer, in regular commission, against the pirates in the West Indies, in which service he had acquitted himself as a brave and adventurous man. The project not being entertained by the Board of Admiralty, a private adventure against the pirates was suggested by Mr. Livingston, one fifth part of the stock of which he would take himself, besides becoming security for the good conduct of Kidd. The proposition was approved by the king, who became interested to the amount of one tenth; and the residue of the expense was supplied by Lord Chancellor Somers, the Duke of Shrewsbury, the Earls of Romney and Oxford, and Sir Edmund Harrison and others. The ship having been procured and equipped, Kidd sailed for New York under a regular commission, in April, 1696—the direction of the enterprise being committed to the Earl of Bellamont and himself. For a time he served faithfully and with advantage to the commerce of the colonies and mother country; for which services he received much public applause, and another grant from the colony of two hundred and fifty pounds. Tradition, moreover, says that, on visiting the government house, he was received with public honors, and invited to a seat with the speaker of the House of Assembly.

On his next voyage, however, he stretched away to the Indian ocean, and turned pirate himself. Selecting the island of Madagascar as his principal place of rendezvous, and burning his own ship after having captured one that suited him better, his depredations upon the commerce of all nations were represented to have been great. It is said that he 'ranged over the Indian coast from the Red sea to Malabar, and that his depredations extended from the Eastern ocean back along the Atlantic coast of South America, through the Bahamas, the whole of the West Indies, and the shores of Long Island.' But it will presently be seen that this statement must have been an exaggeration, as time was not afforded for operations so extensive before his arrest.

It is beyond doubt true that Long Island contained several of his hiding places. 'Kidd's Rock' is well known at Manhasset, upon Long Island, to this day. Here he was supposed to have buried some of his treasures, and many have been the attempts of the credulous to find the hidden gold, but it could not be found. There is also no doubt that he was wont to hide himself and his vessel among those curious rocks in Sachem's Head Harbor, called the Thimble islands. There is also upon one of those rocks, sheltered from the view of the Sound, a beautiful artificial excavation of an oval form, holding perhaps the measure of a barrel, called 'Kidd's Punch Bowl.' It was here, according to the legend of the neighborhood, that he used to carouse with his crew. It is a fact, however, beyond controversy, that he was accustomed to anchor his vessel in Gardner's bay. On one occasion, in the night, he landed upon Gardner's island, and requested Mrs. Gardner to provide a supper for himself and his attendants. Knowing his desperate character, she dared not refuse, and fearing his displeasure, she took great pains, especially in roasting a pig. The pirate chief was so pleased with her culinary success, that, on going away, he presented her with a cradle blanket of gold cloth. On another occasion, also, when he landed at the island, he buried a small casket of gold, silver, and precious stones in presence of Mr. Gardner, but under the most solemn injunctions of secrecy.

Repairing soon afterward to Boston, where Lord Bellamont happened to be at the time, he was summoned before his lordship, and directed to give a report of his proceedings in the service of his company. Refusing to comply with this demand, he was arrested on the third of July, 1699, on the charge of piracy. He appears to have disclosed the fact of having buried the treasure at Gardner's island, for the same was demanded by his lordship, and surrendered by Mr. Gardner. I have conversed with a gentleman who has seen the original receipt for the amount, with the different items of the deposit. The amount was by no means large, and affords evidence of no such mighty sweepings of the seas as have been told of in story and in song. Of gold, in coins, gold dust, and bars, there were seven hundred and fifty ounces. Of silver, five hundred and six ounces, and of precious stones about sixteen ounces.

Lord Bellamont wrote home for a ship of war, to carry Kidd to England for trial. The 'Rochester' was despatched upon that service, but being obliged to put back, a general suspicion prevailed in England that there was collusion between the pirates and the ministers, and, in fact, that they dared not bring the sea robber home for trial, lest it should be discovered that the Lord Chancellor and his noble associates in the enterprise were confederates in the piracies also. Party spirit ran high, and the opponents of the ministers brought a resolution into the House of Commons for excluding from place all the partners of Kidd in the original enterprise. And although this resolution was voted down, yet the Tories contrived afterward to impeach the Whig lords upon the charge of having been concerned with Kidd. But the articles were not sustained. Meanwhile Kidd had been taken to England, tried on an indictment for piracy and murder, and hung in chains, with six of his crew. In addition to the indictment for piracy, he was indicted for the murder of one of his own subordinate officers, named Moore, whom he killed in a quarrel, by striking him over the head with a bucket. He was convicted upon both charges, but protested to the last that he was the victim of conspiracy and perjury.

But, after all, suspicions were entertained by the public that the execution was a sham—that the Government dared not put him to death; and that, to avoid disclosures, a man of straw was hung in his place. In proof of this assertion, it was gravely and strongly alleged that Kidd had been seen alive and well, many years afterward, by those who could not be mistaken as to his identity. I think there is no doubt, however, of his having been honestly hung at 'Execution Dock,' in London, on the 12th of May, 1701. Yet, when compared with the nobler villains, Lolonois and Morgan, Kidd must have been a pirate upon an insignificant scale—a mere bottle imp by the side of Satan, as portrayed in stupendous grandeur by Milton!

FOOTNOTES:

[B] An indulgence was never granted in advance of any crime yet to be committed. It was simply a remission or commutation of a part of the temporal penalty attached to crime, after the sin itself had been repented, confessed, renounced, and forgiven. Two millions of Papal bulls!!!—Ed.

[C] See CONTINENTAL for June, 1863.



UNDER THE PALMETTO.

On Saturday, the 31st of January, 1863, the steamer 'S.R. Spaulding,' flagship of General Foster's fleet, left the harbor of Morehead City, N. C., on a supposed expedition to some point on the Southern coast. For two days we had watched from her deck the long procession of vessels moving slowly round Fort Macon, and then, with all sails set, or under full head of steam, passing proudly on in their southward course. Only those who have witnessed such scenes can realize the eager interest and intense excitement which attend the preparation for a naval expedition. Then, too, there were glories of the past to kindle hope and stimulate ambition. The successes of Burnside, Du Pont, and Farragut were fresh in memory, and why should not we win new laurels for the old flag, and place our commander's name high on the list of fame? And so, with feelings of pride and expectation, we gladly saw the shores of North Carolina with their forests of pines recede from sight, as, under a cloudless sky and over a waveless sea, we glided on toward the hated mother State of the rebellion.

The sequel of the 'Foster Expedition' is well known. We anchored, on the 2d of February, in the capacious harbor of Port Royal, and were flagship no longer. Fortunately, the long interval between our arrival and the final departure for Charleston under another commander, gave abundant opportunities for studying new phases of life and character, and for learning something of the 15,000 freedmen who compose the loyal population of the Sea islands.

ON THE PLANTATIONS.

A geographical description of these outlying islands of South Carolina is hardly necessary at a time when we are studying the map of the republic under the guidance of bayonets and rifled cannon; and the guns of Admiral Du Pont revealed more of Port Royal and its surroundings than we should ever have learned from our geographies. Previous to the rebellion these islands seem to have been rarely visited—so rarely, indeed, that the presence of one of our naval vessels in the Beaufort river, a few years ago, was the signal for a week's festivities and a general gathering of all the inhabitants to see the strangers—while the 'cotton lords' vied with each other in entertaining the distinguished guests. For the most part the islands are low, abounding in salt-water creeks and marshes, and covered, here and there, with forests of pine and live oak. The climate in winter is delightful, and the rapid advance of vegetation in March and April—the sudden bursting into bloom of a great variety of flowers and flowering shrubs—lends additional charms to the early spring. Sitting, on one of those delicious April days, in the upper piazza of an old plantation house—the eye resting on the long stretch of the cotton fields, now green with the growing plant—or tracing the windings of the creek through the numerous small islands, till it is lost in the haze which covers all the distance—or, again, watching the shadows as they pass over the groves of oak and pine—while over the whole scene there broods the stillness of a midsummer's noon—I could but wonder at the madness which had driven the former dwellers in such a fair land into the desperate hazards and unaccustomed privations of civil war.

Those who visit these islands to-day, must not expect to realize, in the altered condition of affairs, their ideal of plantation life, however that ideal may have been formed. The change which has been wrought in little more than a year, is truly wonderful. The traces of slavery may indeed be found in an exhausted soil and an exhausted race, but all outward signs of the institution have been removed. 'The whip is lost, the handcuff broken,' the whipping post destroyed, and the cotton gins broken down. At the 'great house' you find, instead of the master and overseer, the superintendent and school teacher. In the field, the cotton tasks are comparatively small, but the garden patch in the rear of the cabin is large, well fenced in and well cultivated. If you see few indications of positive happiness, you find no appearances of overburdened misery. There is about the whole place something of the air of a New England farmstead, where labor, being honored, crowns even the humblest with dignity and peace. You take unspeakable comfort in the fact, that, open what door you may into the life of these people, there is no skeleton of oppression to startle and haunt you. Go with me, then, on this calm, bright day of early March, to visit one of the plantations on Port Royal Island, a few miles out of Beaufort. The quartermaster kindly furnishes us with a carriage, somewhat shabby and rickety to be sure, but one of the best that 'Secesh' has left for our use. Our steeds, too, are only slow-moving Government mules, but there is one aristocratic feature of our establishment to remind us of the life that was, viz.: a negro coachman 'educated to drive,' under whose skilful guidance many a happy family party have been conveyed from plantation to plantation on social visits like ours to-day. Uncle Ned speaks kindly of his 'ole massa,' and says he 'would hab stayed wid 'um, ef massa hadn't run away from heself.'

'But why didn't you go with him, uncle?'

'Oh, sah, I could nebber go to de Secesh.'

Doubtless many more of the house slaves and body servants of the planters would have followed their masters, had they not been deterred by fear of the rebel soldiers and hard work in the trenches.

'Use your whip, uncle,' and away we go at a respectable trot over the principal road on the island, which, from the fact of its having been made of oyster shells, is called the 'Shell road,' and extends ten miles to Port Royal Ferry, at the extreme western point of the island. Timely showers have laid the dust, and all the trees and bushes wear clean faces. In the yards there are peach trees in bloom, beautiful crimson japonicas, the jonquil and snowdrop; while everywhere by the roadside we see the ungainly form and coarse flower of the prickly pear. Passing the rifle pits and picket station, we soon turn off from the Shell road, and pass through what was formerly a handsome forest of pines, but which now has been cleared by the soldier's axe, and rejoices in the title of 'pickpocket tract.' Few of the plantations lie on the main road, and many of them, like the one we are now seeking, are approached only by going over several cross roads and by lanes. Our last turn takes us into a handsome avenue of live oaks, whose overarching branches are adorned with long ringlets of the graceful Spanish moss. In the woods on either side of the drive way are dogwood and Pride-of-Asia trees in full blossom, wild honeysuckle, and the sweet yellow jasmine which fills the air with its delicious fragrance. As we drive into the yard, the plantation house suddenly appears to view, half hidden by the dense foliage of magnolia and orange trees. Although called one of the finest residences on the island, the house is inferior to many of our larger farmhouses in New England, and is a simple two-story structure of wood, resting on brick piles, with a veranda in front. Just beyond the path that leads by the house, is a handsome flower garden, while both in the rear of the 'great house' and beyond the flower garden are rows of negro huts. We are soon greeted by our hosts—one, a brave Vermonter, who served faithfully in the army till disabled, the other, a Quaker of Philadelphia, who has left family and friends to labor for the freedman—and ushered into the principal room of the house, where we are presented to a party of the neighboring superintendents and school teachers. Dinner is all ready, and we sit down to a right royal entertainment, the chief dishes of which are portions of an immense drumfish cooked in various fashion. Few entertainers can prove more agreeable than Northern men with Southern hospitality, and we eat and make merry without even a thought of Colonel Barnwell, whose home we have thus 'invaded,' and who, perchance, is shivering in the cold, and suffering the privations of a rebel camp in Eastern Virginia. We must not omit the praise due to our cook, a woman taken from the 'field hands,' and whose only instructors have been our hosts, neither of whom can boast of much knowledge of the art of cooking. It would, however, be hardly safe to trust to an untutored field hand, as I once learned to my cost, when my contraband of the kitchen department called me to dinner by announcing that the eggs had been boiling for an hour, and the oysters stewing for twice that time!

HOME LIFE OF THE FREEDMEN.

After dinner we visit the negroes in their cabins. The home life of the freedmen is at once the most noticeable and most interesting feature of their new condition. Even in former days, however often the sanctity of their homes may have been violated, with however weary limbs and suffering souls they may have gone to them, yet here they must have found their chiefest joy. Now, the humble cabins have become transfigured, and we find therein not only joy, but peace and comfort, and, indeed, in greater or less degree, every element of that domestic order which makes the home the corner stone of our free institutions. I have frequently, when conversing with the freedmen about the flight of their former masters, asked them why they did not accompany them, and have invariably received the reply, 'Oh, sah, we couldn't do dat. We belongs yere. Dese are our homes.' This strong attachment to the soil, which has been made still stronger by the removal of everything which could in any way remind them of their former condition, has proved to be the great lever to raise them into the dignity of free laborers. It is true their cabins are not yet free-holds; but the assurance that, unless the Government itself fails, no fault or misfortune of another can ever deprive them of their homes, puts them at once on their good behavior, that they may retain in their possession what they prize so dearly. The good results of this transformation of the home are seen in every direction. The marriage relation is observed with a constantly increasing strictness. Family ties are knitted more closely together. Parents take a deep interest in the education of their children, and the children become in turn teachers to the parents of much that is improving and civilizing. In the field there are generous rivalries between families to see which will cultivate the largest patches of corn and cotton. Greater neatness and order are observable about the dwellings, and wherever new cabins have been erected—always by negro carpenters—there has been marked improvement in the style and comfort of the buildings. Freedom has also created new wants, and the freedman purchases from time to time, as he has ability, articles of luxury and of ornament for his home.

I must, however, acknowledge a feeling of disappointment at not finding the negroes more joyous in this new condition of freedom and progress. Those who know them best—the superintendents and teachers—testify to the happiness of their daily lives and their light-hearted enjoyment of all their blessings; but to the casual observer there seems to be a general absence among the freedmen of that cheerfulness and mirth which he naturally expects to find in their homes. A simple explanation of this fact may be found in the sense of insecurity which the uncertain issue of the civil war that rages about them creates in their minds. They have seen one after another of those islands which have been in our possession given up to the reoccupation of the rebels; the disastrous battles of James's Island and Pocotaligo and the fruitless campaigns in Florida are fresh in their minds; while that wearisome waiting for something to be accomplished which spreads such a spirit of restlessness and discontent among our soldiers, is felt even more keenly by the freedmen. There is very much in the uncertainties of their present condition to justify the favorite allusion of their preachers, who often compare the freedmen to the children of Israel before they had fairly gained the promised land. Until a permanent peace shall give to these people that feeling of security, without which, though there may be contentment, there can be little joyousness, it is absurd for us to 'require of them mirth,' or ask them to sing songs of gladness.

FREE LABOR.

Cochin, in his admirable work on the 'Results of Emancipation,' asserts of the negroes: 'This race of men, like all the human species, is divided into two classes, the diligent and the idle; freedom has nothing to do with the second, while it draws from the labor of the first a better yield than servitude.' Has this statement proved true on the Sea Islands? The prejudiced are ready with their negative answer, and point to the comparatively small amount of cotton raised during the past year. By such persons no allowance is made for the peculiarly unfavorable circumstances under which the experiment of free labor thus far has been tried, and they are only too happy to charge upon emancipation all the evils which labor has suffered from the presence of our soldiers and the continuance of the war. The causes of the smallness of the cotton crop produced last year, are obvious to the most careless observer. Owing to the late arrival of the first company of superintendents who were sent from the North, no preparations were made for planting till more than two months after the usual time. On many of the plantations the seed used was of a poor quality, while it was almost impossible to find any implements of culture or to obtain the necessary mules or horses. As a consequence of the late planting, the cotton was not sufficiently advanced to resist the attacks of the caterpillars in September, and for a month these insects held grand carnival on the yet immature plants, causing widespread damage to the crop. The low wages offered to the freedmen by Government were no offset to the attractions of trading with the army and navy, and all the negroes were ambitious to have some connection with camp life. As a natural result of this condition of things, both the industry and interest of the freedmen were drawn away from the cotton fields. Early in the season, also, when the young crops required constant attention, all the able-bodied men were drafted into General Hunter's regiments, and kept in camp till the fall. The influence of the draft upon those who remained at home, added to the delay and smallness of the Government payments, made the laborers discouraged at their prospects, disaffected toward the superintendents, and careless at their work.

The obstacles in the way of successful agricultural operations, produced by the military occupation of the islands, are still further evident from the fact that both provision and cotton crops improved in proportion to the distance from the camps. Thus, on Port Royal and Hilton Head Islands, where most of the troops were encamped, very little cotton was raised, and so small a crop of provisions, that it became necessary for Government to ration many of the freedmen during a brief period. On Ladies' and St. Helena Islands, away from the immediate vicinity of the camps, very fair crops of cotton were raised, and nearly enough provision for the support of all the laborers. The rations furnished by Government, and which have given rise to so much unfriendly comment, were called for, either by the refugees from the mainland and adjacent islands, many of whom had at first no means of subsistence, or by the freedmen on those plantations so exposed to the camps and so harassed by the soldiers, that the crops which they were able to gather failed to last them through the year. In one district on St. Helena Island, including three plantations, which was under the care of a capable and judicious superintendent, of sufficient means to advance his private funds to the payment of the laborers, the total receipts from the sale of the cotton and the surplus provisions raised were more than double all the expenses incurred in wages, clothing, and superintendence.

Such were the results of the first year's experiment. Early in the present year several of the plantations passed into the possession of private individuals, and thus an important change has been effected in the aspect of the free-labor problem. On the Government plantations, which are under the care of salaried superintendents as last year, a uniform system of labor has been adopted, embodying the results of previous experience. Under this system, the laborers agree as to the amount of cotton land which they will cultivate, and are then paid twenty-five cents a day for their work. At the end of the year they are to receive a bonus of two cents per pound of unginned cotton for picking. This additional reward at once stimulates them to exertion, and teaches them that steady and continued labor brings the best return. In addition to raising the amount of cotton agreed upon, each freedman is responsible for cultivating corn and potatoes enough for his own subsistence, and land is allotted for this purpose. The laborers are also required to produce corn enough for the subsistence of the plantation mules and horses, for the use of the superintendents, and for the subsistence of all the old and disabled persons for whom provision is not otherwise made. As regards payments, the Government theory is most excellent, inasmuch as it provides for partial payments while the work is going on, so as to furnish the freedman enough money for his immediate wants, and then, by the bonus which is paid at the end of the year, supplies him with an amount greater than his wages, to be laid up or put out at interest. Unfortunately the practice of the Government has been most injurious. The delay in the monthly payments during the past year, sometimes for as long a period as six months, caused the laborers to become discouraged, discontented, and suspicious. Unlike the soldier, the freedman is not clothed or fed by Government (except in the case of those who are utterly destitute), nor can he, like other laborers, obtain credit to the extent of the wages due him. Under these circumstances, the delay on the part of the Government in paying the freedman has been not only unjust to the laborers but disastrous to the workings of the free-labor system.

On the purchased plantations we find a wholly different state of things, and, as might be expected, a great variety of systems of labor. Some of the best managers keep up the Government scale of prices, but pay the laborers more promptly, and increase their wages by many indirect means, such as giving them bacon and molasses in proportion to the amount of cotton land which they cultivate, providing a store for the plantation, where the freedmen can purchase articles at a much lower rate than elsewhere, keeping the cabins in good repair, building new ones, and having always on hand the necessary plantation implements for facilitating the culture of the cotton. Others pay higher wages, and also increase the bonus which is paid for picking the cotton. Some promise the freedmen so much per pound for the cotton which they shall raise, and see that all their wants are supplied till the crop is gathered; while still others, from lack of judgment or capital, offer the negroes a certain portion of the crop—in some cases as high as two thirds—in return for their labor. On all these plantations the freedmen are doing better than on those which are still retained by Government. The average amount of cotton land which has been planted this spring is from an acre and a half to two acres for each 'full hand.' Under slavery a full hand took care on an average of three acres, but it must be remembered that all the able-bodied negroes, excepting only a foreman to each plantation, have been drafted into the army, or are working in the Quartermaster's Department.

At the present time all indications point to a successful season. Riding over many of the plantations, I have seen the negroes at work breaking up the ground or planting the seed, and everywhere found them laboring diligently, and even showing a manly emulation in their tasks. Yet it would be unreasonable to expect too much where so many obstacles beset the way. As one of the new planters writes: 'For success in an experiment of free hired labor among ignorant blacks just emancipated, conditions of peace and quiet are absolutely necessary. However, the difficulties in our way are purely natural workings, and merely show that black is more nearly white than is usually allowed.' Perhaps the greatest of these obstacles is the vicinity of the camps at Beaufort and Hilton Head, which tempts the freedmen to leave their regular employments and obtain an easy livelihood by the sale of eggs, chickens, fish, oysters, &c. Such markets affect the blacks on the plantations just as the California fever affected the laboring men of the North a few years ago; and it is a matter of surprise and congratulation that the presence of the soldiers has not produced a greater demoralization among the negroes than we find to be the case.

Five of the plantations were bought by the freedmen themselves, who are now carrying them on as independent cultivators. Everywhere the freedmen, on hearing that the lands were to be sold, were eager to buy, and it was found in many cases that they had saved considerable sums of money from their earnings of the previous year. This almost universal desire of the negroes to become landowners, is a complete refutation of the charge that sudden emancipation from forced labor opens the door for the return of the blacks to barbarism.

The conditions under which the trial of free labor is now carried on in South Carolina, are unparalleled in history. Those who are familiar with the results of emancipation in the French and English colonies, will find few points of comparison between those results and the present workings of freedom on the Sea Islands. Consider that at no previous time, and in no other country, has there ever been an immediate and unconditional abolition of slavery. France, in the frenzy of the Revolution, declared that slavery was abolished, but was forced to reestablish it under the Consulate; and, during the half century which followed before the complete and final emancipation of the slaves in 1848, we find continually acts and measures adopted which gradually paved the way to this ultimate success. England, too, after the abolition of the slave trade, made repeated efforts to ameliorate the condition of the slave population of her colonies, and when, in 1833, the Act of Emancipation was passed, it was found that, while declaring all slaves on English soil to be instantly free, it made provisions for transforming them into apprenticed laborers. In South Carolina, emancipation, proclaimed by the guns of Admiral Du Pont, was instant, unlooked for, and without conditions. However ardently it may have been desired by the slaves themselves, they surely could not have expected it, at a time when the belief universally prevailed among the planters that the forts which defended their islands were impregnable.

In the colonies of France and England, there was no civil war, bringing into the midst of the plantations the demoralizing influences of the camp, harassing the simple-minded freedmen with constant fear of reverses, which would consign them to a worse bondage than they had ever known, and tending, in the absence of all civil law and the restraints of a well-ordered society, to draw away the laborer from the cultivation of the soil. In South Carolina, moreover, no masters or overseers were left, as in the French and English colonies, to direct the negroes in their labor; and, in consequence, their guidance has been intrusted to a body of superintendents from the North, most of them young men, and all without experience, either in the management of the blacks or the culture of the cotton. This complete separation of the freedmen from their former masters, by reason of the flight and escape of all the planters, has been, in many respects, most favorable to their progress in liberty. Consider for a moment what would have been the result if, at any time during the past thirty years, it had been possible to effect the abolishment of slavery in these islands by an act of the General Government. Who can doubt that such an act, passed against the wills of the slaveholders, would have produced the most disastrous consequences, and that such an experiment of free labor as is now going on would have been utterly impossible? Those, at least, who have had opportunities for observing the bitter hate engendered toward the negroes, among those masters whom the proclamation of the 1st of January deprived of their former 'chattels,' cannot but regard with satisfaction such peaceful solutions of this fearful problem as that effected at Port Royal, where the shot and shell of our gunboats, in breaking the chains of the slave, at the same moment compelled the master to flight.

RELIGION OF THE FREEDMEN.

The religious condition of the South Carolina freedmen presents many peculiar and interesting features. Whether, like the negroes in the 'old North State,' they celebrated their new birth into freedom by services of praise and thanksgiving at the altar, I have been unable to learn; but certain it is, that the wonderful tranquillity of their sudden transition from bondage, and the good use which they have made of their liberty, are owing in great measure to their deep religious earnestness. This earnestness, it is evident, is not the result of conviction or enlightenment, so much as of the strong emotional nature of the blacks, intensified by sympathy, and kept alive to religious feeling by their frequent meetings for prayer and praise. Yet, to the careful observer, the blind and often superstitious worship of these people, which, as is now so plainly seen, was fostered by slavery, is one of the saddest results of the system. Those who are now permitted to watch over the religious progress of the freedmen, can bring new and abundant proof to the assertion of De Tocqueville, that 'Christianity is a religion of freemen.' The present opportunities for religious worship which the freedmen enjoy consist of their 'praise meetings'—similar in most respects to our prayer meetings—which are held two or three times a week on the plantations, and the Sunday services at the various churches scattered about the islands. These services are usually conducted by white preachers, and are attended not only by the negroes, but also by the superintendents, teachers, and many casual visitors from the camps. At Beaufort and Hilton Head large and flourishing Sunday schools are in operation. Most of the freedmen belong either to the Baptist or Methodist denomination, and the fervor and zeal of the preachers of the latter persuasion always find a response in the excitable and impulsive nature of the blacks. It is not a little singular that, while Cochin can write concerning the freedmen in the French colonies that 'the Catholic worship has incomparable attractions for the blacks,' we find the negro in our own country everywhere attracted toward that sect of Protestants which has always been the most powerful antagonist to Romanism.

On Sunday, the 15th of March, in company with a party of superintendents and teachers, I attended a service held for the freedmen on St. Helena's Island. Our ride from the plantation took us through field and wood, till we reached the main road on which the church is situated. It is a simple, unpretending structure of brick, shaded on all sides by handsome live oaks. Near by is the small cemetery, and the drooping moss from the oaks hangs in sombre beauty over the graves. Under the trees is a group of superintendents discussing the news and the last order of General Hunter. As we ride up, a party of officers comes galloping in from camp, while from the other direction is seen approaching a venerable carryall, conveying a party of lady teachers from a distant plantation. The service has already begun, and the church is crowded with the dusky auditors, while here and there may be seen a pew filled with 'white folks.' The day is warm, so we can stand by the open window and take in the whole scene at a single glance. No danger to-day of any manifestations of overwrought feelings; no groans nor excited shoutings of 'Amen.' The preacher has taken his text from the first chapter of Genesis, and he is describing the wonders of the creation. His sermon might properly be entitled a 'Disquisition upon the Universe.' It is evident that his colored hearers fail to see the 'beauty and mysterious order of the stellar world' which he is portraying, for most of them are already dozing, and the rest are nodding their heads as if in sleepy assent to the undoubted truth of the good man's words. He has overreached his mark, and hits neither the heads nor the hearts of his congregation. At length the discourse is ended, and all rise to join in the closing hymn, which is 'deaconed off' by the minister, and responded to by the negroes in a monotonous 'yah, yah.' They have not recovered from the soporific effect of the sermon, and, besides, can hardly be blamed for not catching the feebly uttered words. But their time is coming. No sooner is the benediction pronounced, than one of the negro elders strikes up a well known hymn, and, suddenly rousing from their stupor, the whole congregation join in singing in clear and ringing tones verse after verse of the jubilant song. Then follow other hymns and chants peculiar to the negro worship, the crude expressions of their deep emotional feeling. As we leave the church, we are convinced that the religious teachers of the newly freed blacks are sadly at fault in repeating so much the kind of preaching to which the negroes were accustomed under the old system, and in neglecting to pour into their perceptive souls both the light and warmth of the Gospel. As an officer remarked who had stood at our side listening to the service: 'These people had enough of the Old Testament thrown at their heads under slavery. Now give them the glorious utterances and practical teachings of the Great Master.'

At some of the meetings of the freedmen, they are addressed by negro preachers, who never fail to speak with great effect. In Alexandria, Va., I was told by the superintendent of the freedmen of an old negro teacher and exhorter, the self-elected pastor of all the blacks there, going about from house to house to minister to the wants of the sick and afflicted, teaching the young, and speaking in all the meetings. 'This old negro,' said the superintendent, 'has more influence over the blacks, and does more good among them, than all the missionaries and chaplains who have been sent here.' To the same effect is the testimony of all who have listened to the colored preacher at Port Royal, and who know the great power which the chief elders of their churches possess over the rest of the negroes. A verbatim report of an exhortation given, just before the expedition to Jacksonville, Fla., to the soldiers of Colonel Higginson's 1st South Carolina Volunteers, by one of these negro preachers, would be worthy a place in 'American Oratory.' I remember only one striking passage, where, in his appeal to the troops to fight bravely, he urged them to seek always the post of danger, since heaven would be the immediate reward of all who should be killed in battle; for, said he, as if moved by an oracle: 'What hab been, dat will be. He who is de fust man to get into de boat, and de fust to jump on shore, him, if he fall, will be de fust to get to heaben.' Then, as if standing already in the midst of the fight, and with all the feelings of his nature roused against his enemies, he added: 'An' when de battle comes—when you see de Kunn'l put his shoulder to de wheel, and hear de shot and shell flying all round like de rain drops, den remember dat ebery one ob dose shot is a bolt ob de Almighty God to send dem rebels to deir eberlasting damnation.' Such fervent utterances are not uncommon among the negro preachers, and are well calculated to produce a powerful effect upon the susceptible natures of their hearers, 'deep answering unto deep.'