CHAPTER V.
SOME disorder had surely crept into the course of the elements, destroyingtheir benignant influence. The wind, prince of air, raged through hiskingdom, lashing the sea into fury, and subduing the rebel earth into somesort of obedience.
The God sends down his angry plagues from high, Famine and pestilence in heaps they die. Again in vengeance of his wrath he falls On their great hosts, and breaks their tottering walls; Arrests their navies on the ocean's plain, And whelms their strength with mountains of the main.
Their deadly power shook the flourishing countries of the south, andduring winter, even, we, in our northern retreat, began to quake undertheir ill effects.
That fable is unjust, which gives the superiority to the sun over the wind.Who has not seen the lightsome earth, the balmy atmosphere, and baskingnature become dark, cold and ungenial, when the sleeping wind has awoke inthe east? Or, when the dun clouds thickly veil the sky, while exhaustlessstores of rain are poured down, until, the dank earth refusing to imbibethe superabundant moisture, it lies in pools on the surface; when the torchof day seems like a meteor, to be quenched; who has not seen thecloud-stirring north arise, the streaked blue appear, and soon an openingmade in the vapours in the eye of the wind, through which the bright azureshines? The clouds become thin; an arch is formed for ever rising upwards,till, the universal cope being unveiled, the sun pours forth its rays,re-animated and fed by the breeze.
Then mighty art thou, O wind, to be throned above all other vicegerents ofnature's power; whether thou comest destroying from the east, or pregnantwith elementary life from the west; thee the clouds obey; the sun issubservient to thee; the shoreless ocean is thy slave! Thou sweepest overthe earth, and oaks, the growth of centuries, submit to thy viewless axe;the snow-drift is scattered on the pinnacles of the Alps, the avalanchethunders down their vallies. Thou holdest the keys of the frost, and canstfirst chain and then set free the streams; under thy gentle governance thebuds and leaves are born, they flourish nursed by thee.
Why dost thou howl thus, O wind? By day and by night for four long monthsthy roarings have not ceased--the shores of the sea are strewn withwrecks, its keel-welcoming surface has become impassable, the earth hasshed her beauty in obedience to thy command; the frail balloon dares nolonger sail on the agitated air; thy ministers, the clouds, deluge the landwith rain; rivers forsake their banks; the wild torrent tears up themountain path; plain and wood, and verdant dell are despoiled of theirloveliness; our very cities are wasted by thee. Alas, what will become ofus? It seems as if the giant waves of ocean, and vast arms of the sea, wereabout to wrench the deep-rooted island from its centre; and cast it, a ruinand a wreck, upon the fields of the Atlantic.
What are we, the inhabitants of this globe, least among the many thatpeople infinite space? Our minds embrace infinity; the visible mechanism ofour being is subject to merest accident. Day by day we are forced tobelieve this. He whom a scratch has disorganized, he who disappears fromapparent life under the influence of the hostile agency at work around us,had the same powers as I--I also am subject to the same laws. In the faceof all this we call ourselves lords of the creation, wielders of theelements, masters of life and death, and we allege in excuse of thisarrogance, that though the individual is destroyed, man continues forever.
Thus, losing our identity, that of which we are chiefly conscious, we gloryin the continuity of our species, and learn to regard death without terror.But when any whole nation becomes the victim of the destructive powers ofexterior agents, then indeed man shrinks into insignificance, he feels histenure of life insecure, his inheritance on earth cut off.
I remember, after having witnessed the destructive effects of a fire, Icould not even behold a small one in a stove, without a sensation of fear.The mounting flames had curled round the building, as it fell, and wasdestroyed. They insinuated themselves into the substances about them, andthe impediments to their progress yielded at their touch. Could we takeintegral parts of this power, and not be subject to its operation? Could wedomesticate a cub of this wild beast, and not fear its growth andmaturity?
Thus we began to feel, with regard to many-visaged death let loose on thechosen districts of our fair habitation, and above all, with regard to theplague. We feared the coming summer. Nations, bordering on the alreadyinfected countries, began to enter upon serious plans for the betterkeeping out of the enemy. We, a commercial people, were obliged to bringsuch schemes under consideration; and the question of contagion becamematter of earnest disquisition.
That the plague was not what is commonly called contagious, like thescarlet fever, or extinct small-pox, was proved. It was called an epidemic.But the grand question was still unsettled of how this epidemic wasgenerated and increased. If infection depended upon the air, the air wassubject to infection. As for instance, a typhus fever has been brought byships to one sea-port town; yet the very people who brought it there, wereincapable of communicating it in a town more fortunately situated. But howare we to judge of airs, and pronounce--in such a city plague will dieunproductive; in such another, nature has provided for it a plentifulharvest? In the same way, individuals may escape ninety-nine times, andreceive the death-blow at the hundredth; because bodies are sometimes in astate to reject the infection of malady, and at others, thirsty to imbibeit. These reflections made our legislators pause, before they could decideon the laws to be put in force. The evil was so wide-spreading, so violentand immedicable, that no care, no prevention could be judged superfluous,which even added a chance to our escape.
These were questions of prudence; there was no immediate necessity for anearnest caution. England was still secure. France, Germany, Italy andSpain, were interposed, walls yet without a breach, between us and theplague. Our vessels truly were the sport of winds and waves, even asGulliver was the toy of the Brobdignagians; but we on our stable abodecould not be hurt in life or limb by these eruptions of nature. We couldnot fear--we did not. Yet a feeling of awe, a breathless sentiment ofwonder, a painful sense of the degradation of humanity, was introduced intoevery heart. Nature, our mother, and our friend, had turned on us a brow ofmenace. She shewed us plainly, that, though she permitted us to assign herlaws and subdue her apparent powers, yet, if she put forth but a finger, wemust quake. She could take our globe, fringed with mountains, girded by theatmosphere, containing the condition of our being, and all that man's mindcould invent or his force achieve; she could take the ball in her hand, andcast it into space, where life would be drunk up, and man and all hisefforts for ever annihilated.
These speculations were rife among us; yet not the less we proceeded in ourdaily occupations, and our plans, whose accomplishment demanded the lapseof many years. No voice was heard telling us to hold! When foreigndistresses came to be felt by us through the channels of commerce, we setourselves to apply remedies. Subscriptions were made for the emigrants, andmerchants bankrupt by the failure of trade. The English spirit awoke to itsfull activity, and, as it had ever done, set itself to resist the evil, andto stand in the breach which diseased nature had suffered chaos and deathto make in the bounds and banks which had hitherto kept them out.
At the commencement of summer, we began to feel, that the mischief whichhad taken place in distant countries was greater than we had at firstsuspected. Quito was destroyed by an earthquake. Mexico laid waste by theunited effects of storm, pestilence and famine. Crowds of emigrantsinundated the west of Europe; and our island had become the refuge ofthousands. In the mean time Ryland had been chosen Protector. He had soughtthis office with eagerness, under the idea of turning his whole forces tothe suppression of the privileged orders of our community. His measureswere thwarted, and his schemes interrupted by this new state of things.Many of the foreigners were utterly destitute; and their increasing numbersat length forbade a recourse to the usual modes of relief. Trade wasstopped by the failure of the interchange of cargoes usual between us, andAmerica, India, Egypt and Greece. A sudden break was made in the routine ofour li
ves. In vain our Protector and his partizans sought to conceal thistruth; in vain, day after day, he appointed a period for the discussion ofthe new laws concerning hereditary rank and privilege; in vain heendeavoured to represent the evil as partial and temporary. These disasterscame home to so many bosoms, and, through the various channels of commerce,were carried so entirely into every class and division of the community,that of necessity they became the first question in the state, the chiefsubjects to which we must turn our attention.
Can it be true, each asked the other with wonder and dismay, that wholecountries are laid waste, whole nations annihilated, by these disorders innature? The vast cities of America, the fertile plains of Hindostan, thecrowded abodes of the Chinese, are menaced with utter ruin. Where late thebusy multitudes assembled for pleasure or profit, now only the sound ofwailing and misery is heard. The air is empoisoned, and each human beinginhales death, even while in youth and health, their hopes are in theflower. We called to mind the plague of 1348, when it was calculated that athird of mankind had been destroyed. As yet western Europe was uninfected;would it always be so?
O, yes, it would--Countrymen, fear not! In the still uncultivated wildsof America, what wonder that among its other giant destroyers, Plagueshould be numbered! It is of old a native of the East, sister of thetornado, the earthquake, and the simoon. Child of the sun, and nursling ofthe tropics, it would expire in these climes. It drinks the dark blood ofthe inhabitant of the south, but it never feasts on the pale-faced Celt. Ifperchance some stricken Asiatic come among us, plague dies with him,uncommunicated and innoxious. Let us weep for our brethren, though we cannever experience their reverse. Let us lament over and assist the childrenof the garden of the earth. Late we envied their abodes, their spicygroves, fertile plains, and abundant loveliness. But in this mortal lifeextremes are always matched; the thorn grows with the rose, the poison treeand the cinnamon mingle their boughs. Persia, with its cloth of gold,marble halls, and infinite wealth, is now a tomb. The tent of the Arab isfallen in the sands, and his horse spurns the ground unbridled andunsaddled. The voice of lamentation fills the valley of Cashmere; its dellsand woods, its cool fountains, and gardens of roses, are polluted by thedead; in Circassia and Georgia the spirit of beauty weeps over the ruin ofits favourite temple--the form of woman.
Our own distresses, though they were occasioned by the fictitiousreciprocity of commerce, encreased in due proportion. Bankers, merchants,and manufacturers, whose trade depended on exports and interchange ofwealth, became bankrupt. Such things, when they happen singly, affect onlythe immediate parties; but the prosperity of the nation was now shaken byfrequent and extensive losses. Families, bred in opulence and luxury, werereduced to beggary. The very state of peace in which we gloried wasinjurious; there were no means of employing the idle, or of sending anyoverplus of population out of the country. Even the source of colonies wasdried up, for in New Holland, Van Diemen's Land, and the Cape of Good Hope,plague raged. O, for some medicinal vial to purge unwholesome nature, andbring back the earth to its accustomed health!
Ryland was a man of strong intellects and quick and sound decision in theusual course of things, but he stood aghast at the multitude of evils thatgathered round us. Must he tax the landed interest to assist our commercialpopulation? To do this, he must gain the favour of the chief land-holders,the nobility of the country; and these were his vowed enemies--he mustconciliate them by abandoning his favourite scheme of equalization; he mustconfirm them in their manorial rights; he must sell his cherished plans forthe permanent good of his country, for temporary relief. He must aim nomore at the dear object of his ambition; throwing his arms aside, he mustfor present ends give up the ultimate object of his endeavours. He came toWindsor to consult with us. Every day added to his difficulties; thearrival of fresh vessels with emigrants, the total cessation of commerce,the starving multitude that thronged around the palace of the Protectorate,were circumstances not to be tampered with. The blow was struck; thearistocracy obtained all they wished, and they subscribed to atwelvemonths' bill, which levied twenty per cent on all the rent-rolls ofthe country. Calm was now restored to the metropolis, and to the populouscities, before driven to desperation; and we returned to the considerationof distant calamities, wondering if the future would bring any alleviationto their excess. It was August; so there could be small hope of reliefduring the heats. On the contrary, the disease gained virulence, whilestarvation did its accustomed work. Thousands died unlamented; for besidethe yet warm corpse the mourner was stretched, made mute by death.
On the eighteenth of this month news arrived in London that the plague wasin France and Italy. These tidings were at first whispered about town; butno one dared express aloud the soul-quailing intelligence. When any one meta friend in the street, he only cried as he hurried on, "You know!"--while the other, with an ejaculation of fear and horror, would answer,--"What will become of us?" At length it was mentioned in the newspapers. Theparagraph was inserted in an obscure part: "We regret to state that therecan be no longer a doubt of the plague having been introduced at Leghorn,Genoa, and Marseilles." No word of comment followed; each reader made hisown fearful one. We were as a man who hears that his house is burning, andyet hurries through the streets, borne along by a lurking hope of amistake, till he turns the corner, and sees his sheltering roof envelopedin a flame. Before it had been a rumour; but now in words uneraseable, indefinite and undeniable print, the knowledge went forth. Its obscurity ofsituation rendered it the more conspicuous: the diminutive letters grewgigantic to the bewildered eye of fear: they seemed graven with a pen ofiron, impressed by fire, woven in the clouds, stamped on the very front ofthe universe.
The English, whether travellers or residents, came pouring in one greatrevulsive stream, back on their own country; and with them crowds ofItalians and Spaniards. Our little island was filled even to bursting. Atfirst an unusual quantity of specie made its appearance with the emigrants;but these people had no means of receiving back into their hands what theyspent among us. With the advance of summer, and the increase of thedistemper, rents were unpaid, and their remittances failed them. It wasimpossible to see these crowds of wretched, perishing creatures, latenurslings of luxury, and not stretch out a hand to save them. As at theconclusion of the eighteenth century, the English unlocked their hospitablestore, for the relief of those driven from their homes by politicalrevolution; so now they were not backward in affording aid to the victimsof a more wide-spreading calamity. We had many foreign friends whom weeagerly sought out, and relieved from dreadful penury. Our Castle became anasylum for the unhappy. A little population occupied its halls. The revenueof its possessor, which had always found a mode of expenditure congenial tohis generous nature, was now attended to more parsimoniously, that it mightembrace a wider portion of utility. It was not however money, exceptpartially, but the necessaries of life, that became scarce. It wasdifficult to find an immediate remedy. The usual one of imports wasentirely cut off. In this emergency, to feed the very people to whom we hadgiven refuge, we were obliged to yield to the plough and the mattock ourpleasure-grounds and parks. Live stock diminished sensibly in the country,from the effects of the great demand in the market. Even the poor deer, ourantlered proteges, were obliged to fall for the sake of worthierpensioners. The labour necessary to bring the lands to this sort ofculture, employed and fed the offcasts of the diminished manufactories.
Adrian did not rest only with the exertions he could make with regard tohis own possessions. He addressed himself to the wealthy of the land; hemade proposals in parliament little adapted to please the rich; but hisearnest pleadings and benevolent eloquence were irresistible. To give uptheir pleasure-grounds to the agriculturist, to diminish sensibly thenumber of horses kept for the purposes of luxury throughout the country,were means obvious, but unpleasing. Yet, to the honour of the English be itrecorded, that, although natural disinclination made them delay awhile, yetwhen the misery of their fellow-creatures became glaring, an enthusiasticgen
erosity inspired their decrees. The most luxurious were often the firstto part with their indulgencies. As is common in communities, a fashion wasset. The high-born ladies of the country would have deemed themselvesdisgraced if they had now enjoyed, what they before called a necessary, theease of a carriage. Chairs, as in olden time, and Indian palanquins wereintroduced for the infirm; but else it was nothing singular to see femalesof rank going on foot to places of fashionable resort. It was more common,for all who possessed landed property to secede to their estates, attendedby whole troops of the indigent, to cut down their woods to erect temporarydwellings, and to portion out their parks, parterres and flower-gardens, tonecessitous families. Many of these, of high rank in their own countries,now, with hoe in hand, turned up the soil. It was found necessary at lastto check the spirit of sacrifice, and to remind those whose generosityproceeded to lavish waste, that, until the present state of things becamepermanent, of which there was no likelihood, it was wrong to carry changeso far as to make a reaction difficult. Experience demonstrated that in ayear or two pestilence would cease; it were well that in the mean time weshould not have destroyed our fine breeds of horses, or have utterlychanged the face of the ornamented portion of the country.
It may be imagined that things were in a bad state indeed, before thisspirit of benevolence could have struck such deep roots. The infection hadnow spread in the southern provinces of France. But that country had somany resources in the way of agriculture, that the rush of population fromone part of it to another, and its increase through foreign emigration, wasless felt than with us. The panic struck appeared of more injury, thandisease and its natural concomitants.
Winter was hailed, a general and never-failing physician. The embrowningwoods, and swollen rivers, the evening mists, and morning frosts, werewelcomed with gratitude. The effects of purifying cold were immediatelyfelt; and the lists of mortality abroad were curtailed each week. Many ofour visitors left us: those whose homes were far in the south, fleddelightedly from our northern winter, and sought their native land, secureof plenty even after their fearful visitation. We breathed again. What thecoming summer would bring, we knew not; but the present months were ourown, and our hopes of a cessation of pestilence were high.
[1] Elton's translation of Hesiod's Works.