word of a soldier, that no injury should be done to him or his garrison. Nevertheless, they were all driven, to the number of 146 persons of both sexes, into a place called the Black-hole prison, a cube of about eighteen feet, walled up to the eastward and southward, the only quarter from which they could expect the least refreshing air, and opened to the westward by two windows, strongly barred with iron, through which there was no perceptible circulation. The humane reader will conceive with horror the miserable situation, to which they must have been reduced, when thus stewed up, in a close sultry night, under such a climate as that of Bengal; especially when he reflects, that many of them were wounded, and all of them fatigued with hard duty. Transported with rage, to find themselves thus barbarously cooped up, in a place where they must be exposed to suffocation, those hapless victims endeavoured to force open the door, that they might rush upon the swords of the barbarians, by whom they were surrounded: but all their efforts were ineffectual; the door was made to open inwards, and being once shut upon them, the crowd, pressed upon it so strongly, as to render all their endeavours abortive. Then they were overwhelmed with distraction and despair. Mr Holwell, who had placed himself at one of the windows, accosted a jemmautdaar, or serjeant of the Indian guard, and having endeavoured to excite his compassion, by drawing a pathetic picture of their sufferings, promised to gratify him with a thousand rupees in the morning, if he could find means to remove one-half of them into a separate apartment. The soldier, allured by the promise of such a reward, assured him that he would do his endeavour for their relief, and retired for that purpose; but in a few minutes returned, and told him that the Suba, by whose orders alone such a step could be taken, was asleep, and no person durst disturb his repose. By this time a profuse sweat had broke out on every individual; and this was attended with an insatiable thirst, which became the more intolerable as the body was drained of its moisture. In vain those miserable objects stripped themselves of their clothes,

squatted down on their hams, and fanned the air with their hats, to produce a refreshing undulation. Many were unable to rise again from this posture, but, falling down, were trode to death or suffocated. The dreadful symptom of thirst was now accompanied with a difficulty of respiration, and every individual gasped for breath. Their despair became outrageous: again they attempted to force the door, and provoke the guard to fire upon them, by execration and abuse. The cry of" Water! water!" issued from every mouth. Even the jemmautdaar was moved to compassion at their distress. He ordered his soldiers to bring them some skins of water, which served only to enrage the appetite, and increase the general agitation. There was no other way of conveying it through the windows but by hats; and this was rendered ineffectual, by the eagerness and transports of the wretched prisoners, who, at sight of it, struggled and raved even into fits of delirium. In consequence of these contests, very little reached those who stood nearest the windows: while the rest, at the further end of the prison, were totally excluded from all relief, and continued calling upon their friends for assistance, and conjuring them by all the tender ties of pity and affection. To those, who were indulged, it proved pernicious; for, instead of allaying their thirst, it enraged their impatience for The confusion became general and horrid; all was clamour and contest; those who were at a distance endeavoured to force their passage to the window, and the weak were pressed down to the ground, never to rise again. The inhuman ruffians without derived entertainment from their misery; they supplied the prisoners with more water, and held up lights close to the bars, that they might enjoy the inhuman pleasure of seeing them fight for the baneful indulgence. Mr Holwell, seeing all his particular friends lying dead around him, and trampled upon by the living, finding himself wedged up so close as to be deprived of all motion, begged, as the last instance of their regard, that they would remove the pressure, and allow him to retire from the window, that he might die in quiet. Even in those dreadful circumstances,

more.

which might be supposed to have levelled all distinction, the poor delirious wretches manifested a respect for his rank and character: they forthwith gave way, and he forced his passage into the centre of the place; which was not crowded so much, because by this time about one-third of the number had perished, and lay in little compass on the floor, while the rest still crowded to both windows. He retired to a platform, at the farther end of the room, and lying down upon some of his dead friends, recommended his soul to Heaven. Here his thirst grew insupportable; his difficulty in breathing increased, and he was seized with a strong palpitation. These violent symptoms, which he could not bear, urged him to make another effort: he forced his way back to the window, and cried aloud, "Water! for God's sake!" He had been supposed already dead by his wretched companions, but finding him still alive, they exhibited another extraordinary proof of tenderness and regard to his person: "Give him water," they cried; nor would any of them attempt to touch it until he had drank. He now breathed more freely, and the palpitation ceased; but, finding himself still more thirsty after drinking, he abstained from water, and moistened his mouth, from time to time, by sucking the perspiration from his shirt-sleeves. The miserable prisoners, perceiving that water rather aggravated than relieved their distress, grew clamorous for air, and repeated their insults to the guard, loading the Suba and his governor with the most virulent reproaches. From railing they had recourse to prayer, beseeching Heaven to put an end to their misery. They now began to drop on all hands. Mr Holwell being weary of life, retired once more to the platform, and stretched himself by the Rev. Mr Jervis Bellamy, who, together with his son a lieutenant, lay dead in each other's embrace. In this situation he was soon deprived of sense, and lay to all appearance dead, till day broke, when his body was discovered, and removed by his surviving friends to one of the windows, where the fresh air revived him, and he was restored to his sight and senses. The Suba, at last, being informed that the greater part of

the prisoners were suffocated, inquired if the chief was alive and, being answered in the affirmative, he (not from any sentiment of compassion, but from the hope that he would receive information from Mr Holwell of the place where certain alleged treasure was deposited), sent an order for their immediate release ; when no more than twenty-three survived, of a hundred and forty-six, who had entered alive.

Smollett.

PICTURE OF LA VENDEE BEFORE THE REVOLUTION.

[LA VENDEE is a district of France, which distinguished itself for its steady adherence to the line of its ancient sovereigns, at the period of the Revolution, which took place in the government of that unhappy country. The following picture-at once beautiful and comprehensive of this district, as it existed previously to the Revolution, taken from a Review of the deeply-interesting Memoirs of the distinguished Madame De Larochejaquelein, has been selected as better adapted to the present work, than any single translated extract from the Memoirs themselves, of which it is an abstract. The like remark applies to the subsequent article.] A tract of about 150 miles square, at the mouth, and on the southern bank, of the Loire, comprehends the scene of those deplorable hostilities, which form the subject of these memoirs. The most inland part of the district, and that in which the insurrection first broke out, is called Le Bocage; and seems to have been almost as singular in its physical conformation, as in the state and condition of its population. A series of detached eminences, of no great elevation, rose over the whole face of the country, with little rills trickling in the hollows and occasional cliffs by their sides. The whole space was divided into small enclosures, each surrounded with tall wild hedges, and rows of pollard trees; so that, though there were very few large woods, the whole region had a sylvan and impenetrable appearance. The ground was mostly in pasturage; and the landscape had, for the most part an aspect of wild verdure, except that, in the autumn,

some patches of yellow corn appeared here and there athwart their green enclosures. Only two great roads traversed this sequestered region, running nearly parallel, at a distance of more than seventy miles from each other. In the intermediate space, there was nothing but a labyrinth of wild and devious paths crossing each other at the extremity of almost every fieldoften serving, at the same time, as channels for the winter torrents, and winding so capriciously among the innumerable hillocks, and beneath the meeting hedgerows, that the natives themselves were always in danger of losing their way, when they went a league or two from their own habitations. The country, though rather thickly peopled, contained, as may be supposed, few large towns; and the inhabitants, devoted almost entirely to rural occupations, enjoyed a great deal of leisure. The noblesse or gentry of the country were very generally resident on their estates, where they lived in a style of simplicity and homeliness, which had long disappeared from every other part of the kingdom. No grand parks, fine gardens, or ornamented villas; but spacious clumsy chateaus, surrounded with farm-offices, and cottages for labourers. Their manners and way of life, too, partook of the same primitive rusticity. There was great cordiality, and even much familiarity, in the intercourse of the landlords with their dependants. They were followed by large trains of them in their hunting-expeditions, which occupied so great a part of their time. Every man had his fowling-piece, and was a marksman of fame or pretensions. They were posted in various quarters, to intercept or drive back the game; and were thus trained, by anticipation, to that sort of discipline and concert in which their whole art of war was afterwards found to consist. Nor was their intimacy confined to their sports. The peasants resorted familiarly to their landlords for advice, both legal and medical: and they repaid the visits in their daily rambles, and entered with interest into all the details of their agricultural operations. They came to the weddings of their children, drank with their guests, and made little presents to the young people. On Sundays and holidays all