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"Why, your friend Mr Adair, of course-Jack, as you call him-who else possesses your secrets? I protest I am quite jealous of that man.'

Jack Adair? Jack told you that I used to flirt with somebody down here? That's impossible.'

'I didn't say she was always down here.' Arthur, who had been almost suffocated, began to breathe again, but still with difficulty; like one recovered from drowning by the Marshall Hall method.

'I said she was within twenty miles of us at the present moment.-Mr Adair, here is Arthur pretending that he has forgotten his cousin Blanche is to meet us at the inn !'

'I am not astonished at his forgetting anybody, under the circumstances,' said Jack gallantly. 'Very good; I'll tell Blanche that,' said Tyndall mischievously. Now see Jack blush,' he whispered.

'Well, that's a mercy, at all events. And does this Mr Magus live in Egypt, Arthur?'

'In Egypt? No; he lives at Swansdale; and I hope to have the honour of introducing him to you this very evening.'

'But your mother's name was Tyrone, I thought?' said Helen, rather alarmed for the antiquity of the race with which she was about to be allied.

'One of the most respectable families in Ireland, as I have always understood,' added the dowager, raking her proposed son-in-law with her double eyeglass.

Well, I don't know about its being "respectable," laughed Arthur; that is a matter of opinion; but it is certainly old enough to know how to behave itself; and yet the House of Tyrone is a fabric of yesterday compared with that of Magus.'

Came over with the Conqueror, of course,' remarked Allardyce. Norman William must have had a big ship.

And Jack did blush-from the sun-burned rim of his neck to the roots of his curly brown hair, 'My dear sir,' answered Tyndall compassionately, as he stammered out: 'I was speaking of you, Tyn-Norman William was a mushroom compared with dall: I did not say that the rest of the party might be excused from forgetting'

'Well, that's not very complimentary to meand mamma-you know,' broke in Helen pettishly. 'I beg to say Mr Adair does not speak for me, ladies,' observed Mr Allardyce, bowing respectfully. 'No, no; Jack is speaking for himself,' laughed Tyndall. 'Ain't you, Jack?"

This was hard measure to his friend, to whose admiration of Miss Blanche Tyndall he was no stranger; but he owed Adair a grudge for the fright which Helen's words had given him, and the rebound of his own spirits was such that he was not quite so careful of the other's feelings as it was his wont to be. His cousin Blanche was wealthy, and Adair was poor, and the latter had always taken pains to conceal, so far as he could, the

tenderness he entertained for her. He could have taken a great revenge upon Arthur had he chosen; but it never entered into his honest mind to do so. He was annoyed, however, and not being quick of speech where his feelings were concerned, though ready enough on other occasions, he remained silent. An uncomfortable pause ensued, during which Arthur felt the pangs of remorse.

the first Magus. And this old fellow-a fine figure still, as straight as a pine, though he is over seventy, and six feet three in his stockings-is the last of his race.'

'The longest and the last, eh?' laughed Allardyce. You are alarming the ladies, my dear fellow, who now expect to meet a giant as well as a magician. If the country were a little more level, and if he chanced to be standing up, a grove of trees would not, I suppose, be an insuperable obstacle to seeing Uncle Magus from here.' Mr Allardyce rounded his hand, and looking through it as though it were a spyglass, exclaimed: 'And, by Jove, there he is!'

'I don't believe it,' cried Mrs Somers, half incredulous, half hysterical. Why, you wicked, story-telling man, that's a Maypole!'

In that case,' said Tyndall, we are drawing near the Angler's Welcome, for the pole-to shew, suppose, that there is bait there-stands in front of the inn.'

GREENWICH HOSPITAL 'FEW of those who now gaze on the noblest of European hospitals are aware that it is a memorial of the virtues of the good Queen Mary, of the love and sorrow of William, and of the great victory of La Hogue.'

'I suppose your cousin Blanche is a great heiress, is she not, Tyndall?' inquired Allardyce carelessly. "Certainly not an heiress, though her mother, it is true, has money. Even if our friends the bargees had cut the thread of my existence, in return for When these words were written by Lord Macau. my attentions to their rope, she would have bene-lay, Greenwich Hospital was still tenanted by the fited nothing, since the Swansdale estate-a sardonic smile flitted across Allardyce's features 'such as it is,' added Tyndall reddening, 'is entailed upon heirs-male. It would all go to my cousin Francis, the son of my father's youngest brother. Blanche and he, and Uncle Magus, are the only blood-relations that I possess.'

'Uncle Magus? Why, that's no Christian name surely!' ejaculated Mrs Somers.

'No, madam, it is a surname,' returned Arthur drily, and borne by a very honourable man.'

'It means a magician, my dear Mrs Somers,' whispered Allardyce probably the Eastern magician spoken of by Mr Adair.'

And is he Arthur's uncle? Oh, my goodness!' 'Hush, yes; but Tyndall is no conjurer himself, you know-far from it.'

quaintly dressed representatives of those who, having been wounded by the thousand at La Hogue, were left untended and uncared for by the public ingratitude. Queen Mary, moved with compassion, set her heart upon providing shelter for her country's defenders, and urged upon her royal consort the propriety of converting one of the spare palaces into a hospital for crippled seamen. While she lived, scarcely any step was taken towards the accomplishing of her favourite design but it should seem that, as soon as her husband had lost her, he began to reproach himself for having neglected her wishes. No time was lost; a plan was furnished by Wren; and soon an edifice, surpassing that asylum which the magnificent Louis had provided for his soldiers, rose on the margin of the Thames.'

The edifice remains; but the long-coated seamen with their three-cornered hats, their artificial limbs, and their marvellous tales of the dangers they had passed-who

Of Nelson and the North

Sang the glorious day's renown,

and to whose yarns of storm and battle confiding juveniles 'did seriously incline'-where are they? No longer they roam about the magnificent corridors, lie basking in the sun, or meet in hall or chapel for common meal and common prayer. A few, a very few remain, too old, too infirm, too much alone in the world, to be suffered to drift from that safe anchorage where no storm can touch them, and where they await in calmness and peace the signal which shall summon them from this world to that which is to come.

There is even a proposal to change the character and the genius of the place, and to convert the asylum for the old into a school for the young. How has all this come about?

On the 25th October 1694, letters-patent were passed under the Great Seal, granting to certain persons a parcel of ground at East Greenwich, and the capital messuage commonly called by the name of the Palace of Greenwich, standing upon the said piece or parcel of ground,' to the intent that the premises should be converted and employed unto and for the use and service of a hospital for the relief of seamen, their widows and children, and an encouragement of navigation.' On the 10th September 1695, additional letters-patent were issued, constituting the first Commissioners of Greenwich Hospital, and authorising an annual payment out of the Treasury of a sum of money to defray expenses; but this sum being inadequate in itself, and the continuance of the payments being uncertain, the act 7 and 8 William III. c. 21 was passed, providing that every seaman whatsoever that shall serve his Majesty, his heirs, or successors, or any other person or persons whatsoever, in any of his Majesty's ships, or in any ship or vessel whatsoever belonging or to belong to any the subjects of England, or any other his Majesty's dominions, shall allow, and there shall be paid out of the wages of every such seaman to grow due for such his service, sixpence per mensem for the better support of the said hospital, and to augment the revenues thereof for the purposes aforesaid.'

By this act, not only were seamen of the royal navy, for whose exclusive benefit the hospital was afterwards applied, required to pay the Greenwich sixpence, but the seamen of the mercantile marine, who for years received no benefit whatever from the hospital funds, were also called upon to contribute, and that in the same proportion.

The annual grant from the Treasury and the income derived from the Greenwich sixpence floated the royal hospital; but experience shewed, that if the institution was to become the national benefit contemplated by the founders, it would be necessary either to endow it with property, of which the revenues should render it independent to a large extent of external aid, or that its expenses should form a permanent item of the Civil List. Waifs and strays of the public Exchequer were eagerly seized upon for bestowal on Greenwich Hospital. The first of these was netted in the year 1704, when L.6472, 1s.-' being money or the proceeds of goods and merchandises

which were taken with William Kidd, a notorious pirate, who was taken and executed several years since,' and which had been, on or about the oneand-thirtieth day of January one thousand seven hundred and four, paid into the receipt of the Exchequer, for public uses, by Richard Crawley, Esq. receiver of the goods of pirates and other perquisites of the Admiralty'-were handed over 'to and for the use and benefit of the Royal Hospital for Seamen at Greenwich.'

The next great windfall that came to Greenwich was that which now yields to it a revenue of fifty thousand pounds a year. The young Earl of Derwentwater having been attainted of high-treason and executed in 1715, and his brother, Charles Radcliffe, having also been attainted, though he was not executed for thirty years afterwards, the large landed property belonging to the family in the north of England, together with all the Radcliffe property, became forfeited to the crown. The notion of putting such property into the public treasury was getting to be thought antiquated, and fortunately it happened that political and personal jealousy ran too high to allow of a grant being made of it to any private person or favourite. For twenty years it remained in the hands of the sovereign; but in 1735, an act of parliament (8 Geo. II. c. 29) was passed, by which, after payment of certain mortgages and certain annuities, the Derwentwater estates were vested in trustees on behalf of Greenwich Hospital.

This same act gave to merchant-seamen 'maimed in fight against any enemy whatsoever of his Majesty,' the same benefits of Greenwich as were enjoyed by seamen of the royal navy.

Excepting a grant of thirty thousand pounds made in 1749 out of the estate for the relief of the children of Charles Radcliffe, brother of the earl beheaded in 1715, the Derwentwater property has remained in the hands of Greenwich Hospital up to the present time, notwithstanding repeated efforts to win it again for the family, including the proceedings taken some three years since by the eccentric lady calling herself Countess of Derwentwater.

The annual proceeds of these endowments, and the fund formed by the Greenwich sixpence, constituted for many years the spending income of Greenwich. The great French war added several other sources of supply. Prize-money remaining unclaimed after three years was ordered to be given to the hospital; the shares due to deserters and 'run men' were afterwards added; privateers' men, and men in ships carrying letters of marque, were required to pay the sixpence a month from wages; thirty-three shillings and fourpence per hundred pounds on the value of prizes, droits of Admiralty, and bounty-money, was apportioned for the special purpose of giving officers pensions out of Greenwich funds; fines recoverable under the acts for the better regulation and government of seamen in the merchant-service, were made payable to Greenwich; and a heavy percentage was charged upon all money received by Her Majesty's ships for the conveyance of freight, the amount so charged going to the hospital. In 1817, doubt having arisen as to whether the several percentages payable were permanently payable or only during the war, and question having also arisen as to the extent of the percentage, an act was passed declaring the perpetuity of the payments, and fixing them at 5 per

cent. upon the value of all prizes taken, upon all grants to the navy and marines, upon all bountymoney, and seizures 'under the Revenue, Colonial, Navigation, or Slave Abolition Laws,' and upon all droits of Admiralty.

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take. The memorandum already referred to pointed out that the great body of pensioners can only obtain the advantages of a residence in this institution by the sacrifice of that perfect freedom, domestic comfort, and social independence, which no Englishman would willingly resign;' and proposed that none but the helpless, and infirm, and friendless, should be retained at the hospital, the whole of the remaining pensioners being sent with enlarged pensions to their homes; and that the general number of out-pensioners should be greatly and immediately increased.

Out of the handsome income provided from the above-named sources, accommodation was found for about two thousand seamen within the walls of Greenwich Hospital; the expenses of a school for the education of eight hundred sons of seamen were defrayed; the wives and children of seamen slain in the service were provided for; pensions to officers who had served long and well in the navy The suggestions made in this memorandum were, were allotted; pensions to seamen who had done with slight modifications of detail, embodied in an well, and had yet not been disabled, were author- act of parliament in July 1865, and have been ised, under an act of the fifty-fifth of George III.; found most beneficial in their operation. Greenand finally, under an act passed in the early part wich Hospital was untenanted of all but the infirm, of the same king's reign, a certain number of out-who-by an arrangement which, recognising the pensioners were sustained out of the funds of the hospital.

Such, then, were the sources of revenue, such the persons relieved out of them, under the various acts relating to Greenwich Hospital-passed up to the end of the great war. With long years of peace, not only did the demands upon the institution decrease, but the income, always in excess of requirements, improved and accumulated to a very considerable extent; so much so, indeed, that another and very important source of revenue was found in the dividends arising from the investment of some three millions of pounds. The Derwentwater estates improved greatly in value, and the general condition of the hospital property was so good, as to enable it to dispense in 1829 with the payment of the Greenwich sixpence by seamen of the navy, and, in 1834, by the seamen of the mercantile marine. In 1865, the income of the hospital was upwards of one hundred and fifty thousand pounds a year, of which the Derwentwater estates yielded fifty thousand pounds.

6

It was found that while this princely income was in excess of the necessary expenditure, there was no power in the commissioners of the hospital materially to increase the beneficial scope of the institution. At the same time, it was found that the number of the inmates steadily decreased. Inquiry, directed in 1859, reported these facts, and also the unwillingness of many seamen of the most valuable class to enter Greenwich Hospital.' In explanation of the last fact, the commissioners stated that this superb palace, with its long galleries and spacious colonnades, must, from the nature of the institution, become intolerably wearisome to men who are not totally incapable of taking part in any occupation or amusement.

It is not surprising that old sailors so circumstanced should resort to the alehouse, or to worse places.'

The conclusions arrived at by a departmental committee in 1863, and embodied in a memorandum by the Duke of Somerset in 1864, were decidedly to the effect that the hospital no longer promoted the objects for which it was founded, and that this great charitable institution supplies very inadequately those wants which the national generosity would desire to meet.'

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The avidity with which pensioners availed themselves of a newly created privilege of so much leave of absence with pension in advance, to enable them to visit their friends, gave the cue to the direction which thoroughly beneficial reform should

claims of the merchant-seamen who had so long contributed to Greenwich funds, placed a portion of the hospital at the disposal of the Dreadnought committee-were placed in charge of the Merchant Seamen's Society. The income of Greenwich Hospital was redistributed in out-pensions to an extent which carried the benefits of the institution to the utmost possible limits; a sum of four thousand pounds a year was also set aside for the benefit of infirm and disabled merchant-seamen; due provision was made for securing perpetual payment of the existing classes of pension to officers and seamen, and for the proper maintenance and relief of men in time of war. Sick and wounded may, under the new arrangements, be received at Greenwich, or maintained at other hospitals at the expense of Greenwich funds.

It would seem that the latter course is the most likely one to be adopted, for the Lords of the Admiralty, with whom is the control of Greenwich Hospital, have recently decided that the splendid palace which William raised as a monument to his beloved Mary, and which has been untenanted for six years, shall be appropriated to the purposes of a naval university.

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CHAMBERS'S JOURNAL

No. 444.

OF

POPULAR

LITERATURE, SCIENCE, AND ART.
Fourth Series

CONDUCTED BY WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS.

SATURDAY, JUNE 29, 1872.

MOUNT VESUVIU S.

PRICE 1d.

command at Misenum. On the 24th of August, about one in the afternoon, my mother desired him THE ancients were so impressed with the volcanic to observe a cloud which appeared of very unusual character of the shores of the Bay of Naples, that size and shape. He had just returned from taking they called them Phlegræi Campi, or Burnt Fields. the benefit of the sun, and after bathing himself in Here they placed the mouth of hell (Lake Avernus), cold water, and taking a slight repast, had retired which Strabo says 'is a deep hollow with a narrow to his study. He immediately arose, and went out entrance in size and shape, well suited for a har-upon an eminence, from whence he might more bour, but incapacitated for that purpose by the distinctly view this very uncommon appearance. shallow Lucrine lake which lies before it. It is It was not at that distance discernible from what inclosed by steep ridges, which overhang it every- mountain this cloud issued, but it was found afterwhere, except at the entrance, now highly culti-wards to ascend from Mount Vesuvius. I cannot vated, but formerly inclosed by a savage, trackless forest of large trees, which threw a superstitious gloom over the hollow. The inhabitants further fabled that the birds which flew over it fell down into the water, destroyed by the rising exhalations, as in other places of this sort, which the Greeks call Plutonia, or places sacred to Pluto; and imagined that Avernus was a Plutonium, and the abode where the Cimmerians were said to dwell.' Antiquaries like Martovelli and Mazzocchi see in the names of places around references to fire derived from Phoenician roots. Vesuvius, according to them, comes from Syriac, Vo Seveev, 'the place of flame;' Herculaneum, Horoh Kalie, 'pregnant with fire;' and Pompeii, Pum Peeah, the mouth of a burning furnace.' However that may be, Diodorus Siculus points out the probable activity of Vesuvius in ancient times; Strabo says it was probably a volcano, formerly with burning craters, now extinguished for want of fuel;' and Vitruvius mentions a tradition that flames had issued from it.

The first recorded eruption of Vesuvius occurred during the reign of Titus, 79 A.D., when Herculaneum and Pompeii were destroyed; but it appears that sixteen years before that, a severe earthquake took place, traces of which, in cracked walls and pavements, may still be seen in the excavated houses of both cities. This eruption caused the death of the Elder Pliny; and we fortunately have two letters from his nephew to Tacitus which record the phenomena very fully. He says his uncle was at that time with the fleet under his

give a more exact description of its figure than by
resembling it to that of a pine-tree, for it shot up
to a great height in the form of a trunk, which ex-
tended itself at the top into a sort of branches.
It appeared sometimes bright and sometimes dark,
and spotted, as it was more or less impregnated with
earth and cinders. This extraordinary phenomenon
excited my uncle's philosophical curiosity to take a
nearer view of it. He ordered a light vessel to be
got ready, and gave me the liberty, if I thought
proper, to attend him. I rather chose to continue
my studies; for, as it happened, he had given me
an employment of that kind. As he was coming
out of the house, he received a note from Rectina,
the wife of Bassus, who was in the utmost alarm at
the imminent danger which threatened her; for
her villa being situated at the foot of Mount
Vesuvius, there was no way of escape but by sea;
she earnestly entreated him, therefore, to come to
her assistance. He accordingly changed his first
design, and what he began with a philosophical,
he pursued with an heroical turn of mind.'

After assisting Rectina, though cinders and pumice-stones fell into the ships, he went on to succour his friend Pomponianus, then at Stabiæ (Castellamare). He seems to have been little discomposed, and actually retired to rest there. He was soon called up by the intelligence that the showers of stones and ashes would soon bury the house. The company agreed to go to the shore; it was pitch-dark, though it was day everywhere else. There my uncle, having drunk a draught or two of cold water, threw himself upon a cloth

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which was spread for him, when immediately the flames, and a strong smell of sulphur, which was the forerunner of them, dispersed the rest of the company, and obliged him to rise. He raised himself up with the assistance of two of his servants, and instantly fell down dead-suffocated, as I conjecture, by some gross and noxious vapour, having always had weak lungs, and being frequently subject to a difficulty of breathing.'

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The second letter contains an account of the doings of the nephew and his mother at the same time at Misenum. Having passed a dreadful night, they determined to leave the house; and being got at a convenient distance from the houses, we stood still, in the midst of a most dangerous and dreadful scene. The chariots we had ordered to be drawn out were so agitated backwards and forwards, though upon the most level ground, that we could not keep them steady, even by supporting them with large stones. The sea seemed to roll back upon itself, and to be driven from its banks by the convulsive motion of the earth; it is certain, at least, the shore was considerably enlarged, and several sea-animals were left upon it. On the other side, a black and dreadful cloud, bursting with an igneous serpentine vapour, darted out a long train of fire, resembling flashes of lightning, but much longer.' Further on, he tells us: Nothing then was to be heard but the shrieks of women, the screams of children, and the cries of men; some calling for their children, others for their parents, others for their husbands, and only distinguishing each other by their voices; one lamenting his own fate, another that of his family; some wishing to die from the very fear of dying; some lifting their hands to the gods; but the greater part imagining that the last and eternal night was come which was to destroy the gods and the world together.'

We have given these lengthy extracts from Pliny's letters, as they bring vividly before the mind's eye the terrors of the first eruption. Herculaneum was overwhelmed with volcanic mud, not lava, to the depth of from seventy to one hundred feet. The few skeletons found during the excavations shew that the inhabitants had time to escape, and the same fact accounts for the few works in the precious metals discovered. Up to the eighteenth century, the city was supposed to be buried under Torre del Greco; but in 1709, its real site was discovered, though that fact was not known for some years after. Even in 1740, Sir Hans Sloane, in describing the excavations to the Royal Society, said it was believed the city was called 'Aretina in the time of the Romans, and by others Port Hercules, where the Romans usually embarked for Africa.' The lava seen at Herculaneum was emitted by subsequent eruptions. Pompeii was buried to the depth of twenty or twenty-two feet with pumicestones and ashes, and excavations have therefore been comparatively easy. Some have thought that the ashes fell in a burning state, and so carbonised the woodwork, &c. ; but Överbeck, in his Pompeii, thinks they would not have set fire to anything, and thinks the carbonisation is due to the fact of

* Quoted in Dyer's Pompeii, 36–44.

the wood having been buried so long. Pompeii was discovered about ten years after Herculaneum. Up to 1861, only about two-fifths of the city had been uncovered; and, at that rate, very many whole. The king of Italy, however, has increased years would have been required to excavate the the annual amount granted; and it is calculated that the remains within the walls will be laid bare in about twenty years.

The second eruption of Vesuvius occurred in 203, and subsequent ones took place in 472, 512, 685, 993, and 1036. This last is usually spoken of as the first which produced lava, but Procopius distinctly describes lava as a product of the 512 the mouth of hell being in this region was revived, eruption. In the middle ages, the superstition of though changed from Avernus to Vesuvius. From the eruption in 1139 (when the stream of lava lasted eight days) to 1306, the mountain was dormant, and from the latter date to 1631, a period of three hundred and twenty-five years, with the exception of a slight eruption in 1500. Bracini visited the mountain before that of 1631, and says: about six thousand paces deep; its sides were 'The crater was five miles in circumference, and covered with brushwood, and at the bottom there was a plain on which cattle grazed. In the woody parts, boars frequently harboured. In the midst of the plain, within the crater, was a narrow passage, through which, by a winding path, you could descend about a mile among rocks and stones till you came to another more spacious plain covered with ashes. In this plain were three little pools, placed in a triangular form-one towards the east, of hot water, corrosive and bitter beyond measure; another towards the west, of water salter than the sea; the third of hot water, that had no particular taste.' Commenting upon this, Dr Dyer says, judging from the size of the crater, one would suppose he meant its boundary to be the ridge of Somma The modern cone probably did not then exist.

The eruption in December 1631 was one of great importance. One of the seven streams of lava which then issued from the mountain destroyed two-thirds of Torre del Greco, and eighteen thou sand persons are said to have perished from this eruption. Many of these were killed by the scalding water which fell in the form of rain. Other seventeenth century eruptions occurred in 1660, 1682, 1694, 1696, and 1698. In the eighteenth we have them recorded in 1701, 1707, 1712, 1717, 1720, 1728, 1730, 1737, 1751, 1754, 1758, 1766, 1767, 1770, 1776, 1779, 1784, 1787, and 1793-4. Of these the most important were those of 1779 and 1793. That of 1779 has been well described by Sir W. Hamilton in his Campi Phlegræi. On August 8, he says: At about nine o'clock there was a loud report, which shook the houses at Portici and its neighbourhood to such a degree as to alarm the inhabitants and drive them out into the streets; and, as I have since seen, many windows were broken, and walls cracked by the concussion of the air from that explosion, though faintly heard at Naples. In an instant, a fountain of liquid transparent fire began to rise, and, gradually increasing,

*It is a matter of doubt whether the mass of ashes, &c. which covers Pompeii was discharged from Vesuvius, or whether they are not the débris of ancient eruptions washed into the city by the rains which accompanied the 79 A.D. eruption. This latter opinion is held by Von Buch and Dufresnoy.

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