OLD MORGAN AT PANAMA. In the hostel-room we were seated in gloom, old Morgan's trusticst crew; Wine we had none, and our girls were gone, for the last of our gold was spent ; Let us go and pillage old Panama, We, the mighty Buccaneers!" Straight at the word each girt on his sword, five hundred men and more; And we clove the sea in our shallops free, till we reached the mainland shore. For many a day overland was our way, and our hearts grew weary and low, And many would back on their trodden track, rather than farther go; But the wish was quell'd, though our hearts rebell'd, by old Morgan's stormy гоаг, "The way ye have sped is farther to tread, than the way which lies before." So on we march'd upon Panama, We, the mighty Buccaneers! 'T was just sunset when our eyes first met the sight of the town of gold; And down on the sod each knelt to his god, five hundred warriors bold; Each bared his blade, and we fervent pray'd [for it might be our latest prayer,] "Ransom from hell, if in fight we fell,-if we lived, for a booty rare!" And each as he rose felt a deep repose, and a calm o'er all within; For he knew right well, whatever befell, his soul was assoil'd from sin, Then down we march'd on old Panama, We, the mighty Buccaneers! The town arose to meet us as foes, and in order beheld us come ;- God wot! And throughout the night made a gallant fight,-but it matter'd not a jot. O'er dying and dead the morn rose red, and o'er streets of a redder dye; We, the mighty Buccaneers! We found bars of gold, and coin untold, and gems which to count were vain; We had floods of wine, and girls divine, the dark eyed girls of Spain. They at first were coy, and baulk'd our joy, and seem'd with their fate downcast, And wept and groan'd, and shrick'd and swoon'd; but 't was all the same at last. Our wooing was short, of the warrior's sort, and they thought it rough, no doubt; But, truth to tell, the end was as well as had it been longer about. And so we revell'd in Panama. We, the mighty Buccaneers! We lived in revel, sent care to the devil, for two or three weeks or so, When a general thought within us wrought that 't was getting time to go. So we set to work with dagger and dirk to torture the burghers hoar, And their gold conceal'd compell'd them to yield, and add to our common store. And whenever a fool of the miser school declar'd he had ne'er a groat, In charity due we melted a few, and pour'd them down his throat. This drink we invented at Panama, We, the mighty Buccaneers! When the churls were eased, their bags well squeezed, we gave them our blessing full fain, And we kiss'd our girls with the glossy curls, the dark-eyed girls of Spain; We, the mighty Buccaneers! A bark we equipp'd, and our gold we shipp'd, and gat us ready for sea; Our mates had took leave, on the yester-eve, their way o'er the hills to find, wind. With a fresh'ning breeze we walked the seas, and the land sunk low and lower; A dreary dread o'er our hearts there sped we never should see land more— And away we departed from Panama, We, the mighty Buccaneers! For a day or two we were busy enow in setting ourselves to rights, In fixing each berth, our mess, and so forth, and the day's watch and the night's; We, the mighty Buccaneers! Day after day we had stagger'd away, with a steady breeze abeam; No shift in the gale; no trimming a sail; how dull we were, ye may deem! And told and re-told tales ever so old, till they fairly tired us out. There was a shark in the wake of our bark took us three days to hook; And when it was caught we wished it was not, for we missed the trouble it took. And thus we sail'd on from old Panama, We, the mighty Buccaneers! At last it befell, some tempter of hell put gambling in some one's head; And thus we sail'd on from old Panama, We, the mighty Buccaneers! From morn till night, ay, till next morn's light, for weeks the play kept on: He went to bed-at noon he was dead-I know not from what, nor reck; : This but begun and those who had won lived a life of anxious dread; have won The gold that our blood bought at Panama : We never were slow at a word and a blow, so we cross'd our irons full fain; For I swear, by God, I will cleave him like wood!" There was one made an He, the mighty Buccaneer! At this we quail'd, and we henceforth sail'd, in a smouldering sort of truce; We, the mighty Buccaneers! She went right fast, but we took her at last. 'T was a little brigantine thing; And go and pillage some other Panama, Ye, the mighty Buccaneers!" We were reckless and rude, we had been at feud till 't was war to the very knife: This Spanish gun was a token from one who had fought me a week before, Their traps all pack'd, there was nothing lack'd, but sharing the women three : sore; We all that day watch'd them lessen away. They were never heard of more! We kept merrily on from old Panama, We, the mighty Buccaneers! Their sufferings none know, but ours, I trow, were very, oh! very sore; We had storm and gale till our hearts 'gan fail, and then calms, which harassed us more; Then many fell sick; and while all were weak, we rounded the fiery cape; And such was the pillage of Panama By the mighty Buccaneers! : and a dangerous chance; but it was his only one. Listen, sir while the men had their heads turned to the opening of the cavern, watching the boat pass, the sight of which had driven them into it, he lifted the ladies gently into the end of the boat. They couldn't hear him for the noise of the waves; there was plenty of room for them, and he drew a sail over them, and was just stepping in himself after them, when one of the men turned, and he had only time to conceal himself under the bows of the boat before she was again moving silently out of the cave with, as her crew little suspected, the addition of two to their number since she had entered it. 6 God And so "They went about a quarter of a mile down under the cliff, and landed a boy, who disappeared like a cat up the rocks. A dead silence ensued; no one ventured to speak; the men rested on their oars, and the boat gently rose and sank on the waves. At last the silence was broken; something dark was hurled down the cliff at a short distance from the boat. It fell heavily on the rocks. forgive him, he's tossed him over,' muttered one of the men. it was, sir. The poor man on the look-out was asleep near the top of the cliff; and we often hear of these men rolling over in their sleep. There's always a reason for it, sir. They were going to land their cargo, when they heard a gun in the offing from one of the King's cutters. The alarm had been given. Not a moment was to be lost; and, straining every nerve, they bore out to sea. 66 They were about two miles from the shore, when some of the men declared it was a lost job, and that they could go no further. Mrs. Clements was quite senseless with cold and exhaustion, but her sister listened eagerly to what the men said. They had some angry words, but the meaning of their conversation she could not understand. There was a little boat astern of the larger one, which they drew to it, and entered one by one, the last man calling out as he stepped in Now then, boys, puil for your lives; they'll make after us when they find they've lost their prize.' "The boat had disappeared in the surrounding darkness before the terrified lady comprehended all; and then, sir, in a moment the frightful truth flashed upon her. The devils had scuttled the boat, and it was sinking fast. She said one prayer, and turned to kiss her sleeping sister, when Mr. Clements' voice sounded almost at her side! There he was, sir,-there he was in the self-same little pleasure-boat which had been the cause of all their misfortunes. He had just time to lift the ladies out of the boat, and to get clear of her, when she went down. The revenue-cutter came up, and took them on board all alive; but many months passed before Mrs. Clements recovered the events of that dreadful night." "What became of Mr. Clements when they left him in the cave?" "He held on to the boat for a few minutes till they got outside, and then swam to the rocks, where he found his little pleasure-boat, and entering it, followed in the track of the larger vessel in time to save the life of Mrs. Clements and that of her sister. The sun is setting, sir," said the samphire gatherer, touching his hat to me. "I must be going homewards. Mayhap," he added, as he turned away on his path, "one of these days, when you are strolling on the rocks below, sir, you will look at the cavern where Mr. Clements found his wife. You can imagine much better than I can describe what must have been their feelings in such a place, and at such a time. Good evening, sir." PORTRAIT GALLERY.-No. VII. ADVENTURES OF THE CANNON FAMILY. Ir was night before the cavalcading party returned to the oncefamed Bonomia, but in modern times the no less celebrated Boulogne. What could they have been about all this time in a humble cottage? Miss Molly Cannon frightened out of her life, and Lucy Cannon terrified to death; one Frenchman wounded in the head, both smitten in the heart. The fact simply was, that they were making love in the most approved and scientific manner, which we unsophisticated English should endeavour to imitate, since, by curious ancient ma. nuscripts lately discovered in Pompeii, it is clearly proved that Ovid was a native of Gascony. The Comte des Oripeaux possessed a heart of crystal, suspended round his Byronic neck by a chain of jet-black hair, evidently apper. taining to the head that had belonged to the possessor of the aforesaid heart, and from whence had also been ravished or bestowed a raven-lock. As Molly was pretending to play with affected indifference with the dangling jewel, Des Oripeaux heaved a sigh; Molly responded; Des Oripeaux groaned; Molly hemmed; and timidly asked-unsophisticated child-if that hair belonged to his sister? Oripeaux was silent. He drooped his head in his hands; he then grasped his throat. He seemed a prey to the pangs of upbraiding conscience; while in fact, he was merely squeezing his jugular veins, to produce a crimson suffusion in his face. An English lover who has no knowledge of anatomy, would never have hit upon such an ingenious stratagem. But here his friend, De la Blagne, who was instilling in Lucy's ear all the devoted spirit of love's distillation, perceived his embarrassment, and hastened to his relief. "Mon ami," he said, "Miss Moli, is too subject-to bad shamevere bad shame-mauvaise honte-and his impressionabilité is vere much-ridicule-ma foi. Sometime he is quite assommant,-quite knocky me down. De fac of de mattaire is, dat dis dere mèche de chereux-dat nick of hair did belong to a vere silly, foolish, susceptible lady, one Duchesse de Gringullet; and she did one day fancy him one infidèle, and she went for to travel for distraction; till, one morning, she take one chump in de river, from de top of de Euxine Bridge -de Pont Euxine." "The duchess-a real "Gracious me !" exclaimed Molly Cannon. duchess drowned herself!—noyau herself in the rivière-oh, dear!" "Allons, mon ami," added De la Blagne, giving him a choke.chicken thump, which would have rectified a hunchback. "Du courage! You know you naver did loaf dat foolish duchesse, whose husband was sa retainly the most magnifique gentleman I ever saw. But, if de lady do chump into de vater for loaf, ve are no fishaman to chump aftaire. Eh, donc !-for, though one lady may be de toste of de société-eh!-vhen she chumps in the river no gentleman likes toste in vater. No, by Gar! dat is no cham-paign,--ha! ha! eh! donc!" This last ejaculation might lead one to suspect that our witty Frank was a countryman of Ovid. |