NOTES TO SEA-SIDE THOUGHTS. 1-Page 10. As toward Egypt's strand his glad bark flew. This, with the preceding and following lines, is an allusion to an event in the early life of Mr. George Meredith, then an officer in the Marines. The "Cap of Liberty" was placed by Napoleon's followers on the summit of Pompey's Pillar, a beautiful Corinthian column of granite, standing on the sea-shore near Alexandria, and firmly secured there by a conical roof of wood. Alexandria surrendered to General Hutchinson Oct. 2nd, 1801, and shortly afterwards Mr. Meredith, being on duty in the bay, learned the history of the column and its trophy, when he immediately vowed that "he would neither eat nor drink" until he had gained possession of the cap. Frequent attempts had in vain been made to remove it, when Mr. Meredith solicited permission to do so, undaunted by the failure of other adventurers. The height of the column is about 100 feet; and after flying a kite over the summit, our "bold Briton" swarmed up the rope, and with great labour and imminent risk of life, accomplished his courageous exploit, which occupied him from two in the morning until sunset. He brought his prize to England, and presented it to the British Museum, through the medium of the late Earl Dartmouth, who had been the personal friend of Mr. Meredith's father. The following notice of its reception is one, from among the many, newspaper paragraphs published at the time : : "On Friday, Dec. 16th, (1802,) the Cap of Liberty, which was placed on the top of Pompey's Pillar by the French, as a memorial of their conquests in Egypt, and taken from thence by Lieut. George Meredith, of this town, was with much solemnity suspended from the ceiling of the great hall in the British Museum, to be preserved with other monuments of British triumph." (Extracted from the Birmingham Gazette.) But The writer, when a child of seven years old, accompanied her beloved uncle (the hero of these lines,) and his family to visit the now neglected relic,-among a chaos of whale skeletons, dried crocodiles, and other "by-gones," in a dark under-ground apartment of the Museum, where, doubtless, it still remains,-a great, roughly-formed cap or cornucopia of rusty iron, having little personal beauty to claim for it a more distinguished station. to me, to my beloved mother, (whose affection magnified the deed to something superhuman,) and all our interested party, the whole regalia of the kingdom would not have seemed half so glorious or worthy of admiration. Many travellers have related the adventure with more minute detail than I can do, but few, if any, have given the name of the then young hero, who, some years since, emigrated with his whole family to Van Dieman's Land, where his superior mind and endowments are highly and deservedly appreciated, and prove that the prowess of the boy heralded the greatness of the man. 2-Page 13. See her subdue Byzantium's palmy pride. Alluding to the conquest of Constantinople by the Venetians, the particulars of whose great and eventful history are familiar to every one. "That is, the Lion of St. Mark, the standard of the republic, which is the origin of the word Pantaloon-Piantaleone." 4-Page 13. Note to Childe Harold. one master-mind. The aged Doge, Enrico Dandolo, who, although blind, and ninety-seven years old, took the command of the Venetian fleet, and was one of the first to set foot in the conquered city of Byzantium. History, that huge chronicle of human wickedness, has few scenes so purely, nobly beautiful, as that where, in the Cathedral of St. Mark, in the midst of the assembled pilgrims, the venerable Doge declared his intention to accompany and command them. 5-Page 14. The horses of St. Mark. The four horses of bronze, which have journeyed from Constantinople to Venice, from Venice to Paris, and, finally, from Paris to Venice again; where, it is to be hoped, they will remain, as evidences of her by-gone power and glory. 6-Page 16. The Bucentaur's gay career. The Bucentaur, or state galley, in which the Doge of Venice annually embarked, with great pomp and splendour, to perform the ceremony of espousing the Adriatic. "The Bucentaur, which now 'lies rotting unrestored,' was only used on the occasion of this solemnity. It was a heavy, broadbottomed vessel, drawing little water, loaded with ornaments, gilding and sculpture, not unlike the state-barges of the city of London. On the entry of the French into Venice it was dismantled, and has now wholly perished." ROSCOE'S ITALY. The accent on gondolier in the text has been objected to; I can only quote Moore's Venetian Song in defence of it— "Row gently here, my gondolier." 7-Page 19. Seek the Rialto-cross the Bridge of Sighs. These celebrated spots, with the "Giant's-stairs," and the "Piazza," are so identified with the works of Shakspeare, Rogers, Byron, Schiller, &c., that I have felt as if on trespass while even introducing the mere names into my humble verse; yet how mention VENICE without? It may be said I had no right to touch on subjects hallowed by such pens; perhaps the remark is just,—I can only hope for pardon in avowing myself wholly guiltless of any intentional plagiarism. 8-Page 25. The stormy petrel. These ominous little birds, so well known to sailors by the name of Mother Carey's chickens, seem to delight in stormy weather at sea, and skim over the foaming billows in fearless and enviable security. They are rather smaller than a starling, slenderly and lightly formed, nearly black, and extremely swift in flight. They are considered always ominous of bad and squally weather. Most of my readers must be acquainted with Barry Cornwall's spirited and beautiful song of "The Stormy Petrel." 9-Page 25. Amalfi's needle. The mariner's compass, first used by the merchants of Amalfi. "When at length they fell, Losing their liberty, they left mankind A legacy, compared with which the wealth ROGERS'S" ITALY." |