Impregnable their front appears, Opposed to these, a hovering band Peasants, whose new-found strength had broke And beat their fetters into swords, And now the work of life and death Yet while the Austrians held their ground, How could they rest within their graves, It must not be; this day, this hour Unmark'd he stood amidst the throng, Till you might see, with sudden grace, Anticipate the bursting storm, Tell where the bolt would strike, and how. The field was in a moment won; "Make way for liberty!" he cried, Then ran, with arms extended wide, As if his dearest friend to clasp; Ten spears he swept within his grasp; "Make way for liberty!" he cried, Their keen points cross'd from side to side; He bow'd amidst them, like a tree, And thus made way for liberty. Swift to the breach his comrades fly, “Make way for liberty!" they cry, And through the Austrian phalanx dart, As rush'd the spears through Arnold's heart, While, instantaneous as his fall, Thus Switzerland again was free; Redcar, 1827. THE VOYAGE OF THE BLIND. "It was that fatal and perfidious bark, Built in th' eclipse, and rigg'd with curses dark." MILTON'S Lycidas. THE subject of the following poem was suggested by certain well-authenticated facts, published at Paris, in a medical journal, some years ago; of which a few particulars may be given here. "The ship Le Rodeur, Captain B., of two hundred tons burden, left Havre on the 24th of January, 1819, for the coast of Africa, and reached her destination on the 14th of March following, anchoring at Bonny, on the river Calabar. The crew, consisting of twenty-two men, enjoyed good health during the outward voyage, and during their stay at Bonny, where they continued till the 6th of April. They had observed no trace of ophthalmia among the natives; and it was not until fifteen days after they had set sail on the return voyage, and the vessel was near the equator, that they perceived the first symptoms of this frightful malady. It was then remarked, that the negroes, who, to the number of one hundred and sixty, were crowded together in the hold, and between the decks, had contracted a considerable redness of the eyes, which spread with singular rapidity. No great attention was at first paid to these symptoms, which were thought to be caused only by the want of air in the hold, and by the scarcity of water, which had already begun to be felt. At this time they were limited to eight ounces of water a day for each person, which quantity was afterwards reduced to the half of a wine-glass. By the advice of M. Maugnan, the surgeon of the ship, the negroes, who had hitherto remained shut up in the hold, were brought upon deck in succession, in order that they might breathe a purer air. But it became necessary to abandon this expedient, salutary as it was, because many of the negroes, affected with nostalgia, (a passionate longing to return to their native land,) threw themselves into the sea, locked in each other's arms. "The disease which had spread itself so rapidly and frightfully among the Africans, soon began to infect all on board. The danger also was greatly increased by a malignant dysentery which prevailed at the time. The first of the crew who caught it was a sailor who slept under the deck near the grated hatch which communicated with the hold. The next day a landsman was seized with ophthalmia; and in three days more, the captain and the whole ship's company, except one sailor, who remained at the helm, were blinded by the disorder. "All means of cure which the surgeon employed, while he was able to act, proved ineffectual. The sufferings of the crew, which were otherwise intense, were aggravated by apprehension of revolt among the negroes, and the dread of not being able to reach the West Indies, if the only sailor who had hitherto escaped the contagion, and on whom their whole hope rested, should lose his sight like the rest. This calamity had actually befallen the Leon, a Spanish vessel which the Rodeur met on her passage, and the whole of whose crew, having become blind, were under the necessity of altogether abandoning the direction of their ship. These unhappy creatures, as they passed, earnestly entreated the charitable interference of the seamen of the Rodeur; but these, under their own affliction, could neither quit their vessel to go on board the Leon, nor receive the crew of the latter into the Rodeur, where, on account of the cargo of negroes, there was scarcely room for themselves. The vessels, therefore, soon parted company, and the Leon was never seen or heard of again, so far as could be traced at the publication of this narrative. In all probability, then, it was lost. On the fate of this vessel the poem is founded. "The Rodeur reached Guadaloupe on the 21st of June, 1819; her crew being in a most deplorable condition. Of the negroes, thirty-seven had become perfectly blind, twelve had lost each an eye, and fourteen remained otherwise blemished by the disease. Of the crew, twelve, including the surgeon, had entirely lost their sight; five escaped with an eye each, and four were partially injured." PART I. O'ER Africa the morning broke, And Niger there uncoil'd his length, Casting away their robes of night, . Hush'd were the howlings of the wild, -In Libyan solitude, Th' Arabian horseman scour'd along; But wo grew frantic in the west; Had mark'd the hour of Afric's rest, To snatch her children from her side: A vessel steals ;-she steals away, Curst was her trade and contraband, Therefore that keel, by guilty stealth, Sooner that melting foam shall reach Tongue hath not language to unfold |