other picture is the imitation of velvet, silk, feathers, and ornaments, so natural. When lighted up by eight rich lustres, suspended from the ceiling, this room is extremely magnificent. Upon grand occasions, when splendid civic entertainments are given, temporary rooms are formed at the Hôtel de Ville by covering in the courts." * The etymology of the Place de Grève is thus explained: the word Grève signifies a strand, or shore; the name therefore implies its contiguity to the Seine. Louis VII., by letters patent, dated 1141, ordered that the Place que Grævia dicitur prope Sequanam, should remain open, and without any buildings, for the convenience of the public, in consideration of the sum of seventy livres, which he had received from the citizens, a Burgensibus suis de Gravia. The Place formerly possessed a handsome fountain, of which Louis XIII. laid the first stone in 1624, with much ceremony. It was from this fountain which was demolished in 1674, that wine flowed for the populace at public rejoicings. The Place de Grève has long been the spot where criminals are executed. The punishment of death is rare in Paris, and the only mode of inflicting it now allowed by the laws of France is by the guillotine. The first person who suffered here was Marguerite Porette, burnt for heresy in 1310. Allusion is made to this celebrated spot in Prior's humorous song of the Thief and the Cordelier, which begins Who has e're been at Paris must needs know the Gréve, The fatal retreat of the unfortunate brave. We have already alluded to the identity of the Hôtel de Ville with the recent struggles. It was one of the places attacked by the Parisians early on Wednesday the 28th. One of the accounts (the Spectator) says "From the Porte St. Martin, the mob and boys of the Polytechnic School proceeded to the Hôtel de Ville, which was held by a band of Swiss; where, after a murderous attack, continued until near nightfall, the possession remained in the hands of its first occupants. The assailants at one time had possession of the hôtel; but the Swiss were reinforced by a party of Lancers, Guards, and Gensdarmes; and they were compelled to relinquish it. The slaughter in the narrow space. was very great-not less on both sides than ten or twelve hundred fell." Again, on Thursday," The first point of attack was the Place de Grève, where the Hôtel * History of Paris, 8vo. vol. ii. de Ville, so unsuccessfully attacked on Wednesday, was still held by the Swiss. The bands which attacked this point were marshalled and led by the Polytechnic boys. They captured the place after an obstinate resistance; the defenders were almost wholly cut to pieces." Again, in an extremely wellwritten narrative of "The Three Days at Paris," (also in the Spectator,) "It appears that the Hôtel de Ville, which was the head-quarters of the fight on the 28th, was won and lost more than once during the day. I have since examined the scene of conflict.-The façade of the Hôtel de Ville, and the front of the opposite houses, attest, by many a ster, the smartness of the engagement." All these circumstances conspire to render the Hôtel de Ville a place of some interest at the present moment. We ought to mention that our Engraving is from a Series of Picturesque Views in " Paris and its Environs," now in course of publication.* The drawings have been taken under the direction of Mr. A. Pugin, expressly for this work; and, by the courtesy of the Publishers we are thus enabled to represent the Hôtel de Ville, in its present state, save and except the ball "stars to which the Parisian correspondent of the Spectator has alluded. MODE OF FISHING FOR PEARLS IN THE EAST INDIES. THERE are two seasons for pearl-fishing: the first is in March and April, the last in August and September. At the commencement of the season, there are sometimes 250 barks on the banks. The larger barks have two divers, and the smaller one. As soon as they have cast anchor, each diver binds a stone, six inches thick and a foot long, under his body, which serves him as ballast, and prevents him being driven away by the motion of the waves. They also tie another stone to one foot, by which they are speedily sent to the bottom of the sea; and as the oysters are usually fastened to the rocks, they case their hands with leather mittens, to prevent their being wounded in pulling them violently off; but this task some perform with an iron rake. In the last place, each diver carries down with him a large net, tied to his neck by a cord, the other end of which is fastened to the boat. This net is to hold the oysters, and the cord is to pull up the diver when his bag is full, or he wants air. In this equipage he some By Messrs. Jennings and Chaplin, Cheapside. times precipitates himself sixty feet under water; and as he has no time to lose, he soon arrives at the bottom: then he begins to run from side to side, tearing up all the oysters he meets with, and cramming them into his budget. At whatever depth the divers are, the light is so great that they easily perceive what passes in the sea; and to their consternation, sometimes discover monstrous fishes, from which all their address in thickening the water, &c. will not always save them; and of all the dangers of the fishing, this is one of the greatest and most usual. The best divers will keep under water nearly half an hour, and the rest do not stay less than a quarter. During this time they hold their breath without the use of oils, or any other liquors, only acquiring the habit by long and early practice. When they find themselves exhausting, they pull the rope to which the bag is fastened, and hold fast by it with both hands, when those in the bark taking the signal, heave them up, and unload them of their fish, which is sometimes five hundred oysters, and sometimes not above fifty. Some of the divers need a moment's respite, to recover breath; others jump in again instantly, continuing this violent exercise without intermission for several hours. D. R. silent motion. It is amusing to observe the trout, during a fine summer evening, leap up and down the cascade in exultation. I have frequently shot them during their avocations; and I have taken them in a net, in large numbers. The Kettle Wells are two lums, situated in Bonson's Wood, near Stanmore, which are not surpassed for Elysian beauty. The fall of the water into the first well is inconsiderable; but that continually empties itself into the lum below, over a smooth precipice of thirty feet. A continual rumbling noise is heard in the latter well, occasioned by the descending torrent striking against the opposite rocks. I have frequently bathed in these delightful places, and have amused myself by sliding a posteriori down the rock into the Wells. The circumference of the last lum is very great, and the effect is greatly heightened by overhanging foliage. The stream flows through the wood, and finally empties itself in the river Eden. I should add, that these lums bear a slight resemblance to a tea-kettle. W. H. H. WINDSOR CASTLE. I SOMETIME since sent you an account of moneys expended for the Custom House and Post Office in London, which THE "LUMS" OF WESTMORE- you inserted at page 13 of your present LAND. "But Bonson Wood perhaps them all excels, Both for its scenery and its Kettle Wells ;— From a high rock the crystal waters flow Into the deep and beauteous lums below." The Westmoreland Poet. (To the Editor of the Mirror.) A FORMER Volume contains a cursory notice of these romantic "lums, as they are termed, but, as I am given to think it was a very unbecoming abbreviation, I am induced to pen a more faithful history of their beauties. They are formed out of the solid rock (by the incessant motion of the waters), into which the delicious stream pours from a sloping cataract. The water is quite transparent; and though some of these holes are very deep, you may distinctly perceive the bottom, and watch the freaks of the numerous trouts, which being well fed by the shoals of minnows that are swept in by the floods, are not easily taken by a bait. These lums are always seated beneath a rock of gradual declivity, whose surface is surprisingly smooth-so that, in fact, the stream glides over it into the abyss beneath in volume; as an addendum to which, the following statement of the amount expended on account of the reparation of Windsor Castle may not be uninteresting to your readers. follows-viz. It has been as PALMS. (To the Editor of the Mirror.) YOUR correspondent, G. K. who writes on the "Sympathy and Antipathy of Plants," inserted in the Mirror, of July 3, has extended his subject to a greater length than he can prove. G. K. informs us that a female palm will not produce fruit unless it is properly placed by the male tree; he has not told us what is a proper situation, or why it is so indispensably requisite ; but he has left these points in a glorious uncertainty. But G. K. is wrong in his assertion: it is well known to many scientific men, that female palms do produce fruit, although fruit so produced seldom ripens, nor will they germinate; but this is a common occurrence with all seed which have not been impregnated by the pollen, or fertilizing dust of the male, because without this dust no germ is founded. The experiment which I shall relate, occurs in the 47th volume of the Philosophical Transactions, and which I consider quite satisfactory. There was a palm tree in the garden of the Royal Academy, Berlin, which flowered and bore fruit for thirty years, but never ripened, and when planted did not germinate, as the flowers of this female tree were never impregnated with the farina of the male, there being no male plant in the garden. At Leipsic, twenty miles from Berlin, was a male plant of this kind, from which a branch of male flowers were produced and suspended over the female palm at Berlin. This experiment was so successful that this tree produced more than a hundred perfectly ripe fruit, from which they had eleven young palms. On repeating the experiment the next year, it produced above two thousand ripe fruit. The Sketch-Book. RECOLLECTIONS OF A WANDERER, The Story of a Life. Awaking with a start, When Albion's lessening shores could grieve or Once more upon the waters! yet once more! Flung from the rock, on oceans' foam to sail, It AMONG the survivors of the melancholy A lofty eminence, composing the termination or point of Brynmorre, a mountain which ran some miles inland, overlooked the beautiful bay of Torwich. A broad natural road, on the level turf, ran for several miles along the summit of the mountain, terminating in this peak; and I used often to stroll thither to enjoy the vast and splendid landscape spread out like a map below me. Â singular rock, flanked by a large pile of stonesthe relics of Druidical times-formed my post; and more than once I found Havell, apparently unconscious of external objects, seated at this spot. One afternoon, in the early part of September, we accidentally met there. The day had been unusually fine ;-the sea, studded with ships, and hardly excited by a gentle breeze, looked like a vast plain of molten silver; whilst the de* We have abridged this communication, by clining sun threw the lofty peaks and Whether these plants love each other or not, I shall not decide; it is evident that they were intended by nature to grow near each other; but whether she has endowed them with that sublimest of passions, I leave to the good sense of others to determine. Deptford. Z. T. V-s.* omitting our correspondent's well-meaning introductory observations. G. K.'s assertion certainly requires qualification; but we do not consider his statement to be utterly disproved -ED. convulsed scenery of the western portion of the coast into fine relief. We were both engaged in watching the movements of a grampus, which often attracted my attention in the bay. Our conversation for some time related to various topics connected with the sea, till at last it turned insensibly on Havell * See Mirror, vol. xiii. pp. 403-8. himself. There was, probably, something about me that attracted his confidence- the moment was an exciting one; and he gradually, and with many pauses, related some passages in the story of his life. I give it nearly in his own words: "I was born near Linton, in North Devon. Though I have not been there for thirty years, yet the recollection of it is as vivid and fresh in my memory as on the day when I first left home. My father was the mate of the Fair Trader, a Bristol West India brig, and consequently passed little time with us. He was the last survivor of a numerous family, who had all been, like him, seafaring men all lost their lives at different periods by that treacherous element and I recollect, when I was about ten years old, my mother's distress at the loss of the Fair Trader, which was supposed to have foundered at sea, as neither the brig, nor one of her hands, was ever heard of more. My father's death was a sad calamity to us. I was the eldest of five brothers, and my mother was left without a shilling for our support. But our neighbours were kind; and a brother of hers died about this time, who left us a half-share in a fishing-boat, by the aid of which, and making nets, we contrived to live. As I was too young yet to be of much service in the boat, they sent me to sea first, as a cabin boy, in a Mediterranean trader. The captain took a fancy to me, and taught me navigation; and I continued in her till I was eighteen, when she was lost in a gale of wind, when inwards off Lundy. I now returned home, to assist my family in the fishery, and found my brother Charley grown as tall and manly as myself. We were all blessed with good health; and if we had few comforts, we had few wants. I well remember the day of my return-all the village were delighted to see me. A wild and romantic spot is Limouth and Linton; the Valley of Rocks is singularly interesting. My brothers were all brought up fishermen except Tom, who was in an Ilfracombe pilot boat. We had now a boat of our own, which we called the Five Brothers, and they used to go to sea with me by turns. One evening, it was the 18th of August-I remember it well-it was Charley's turn to be with me. The day had been very moist and sultry. The sun, which was near going down as we pushed off in the boat, lit up the land and sea with a wild and supernatural glare; the wind was light, but came in sudden and uncertain squalls, as if it were trying its strength before some mighty onset. The vapours in the horizon became gradually too much for the sun, and some time before he disappeared, his lower limb only was visible, glaring out with a frowning and ominous appearance. "A wild roving night, lads!' sung out William Luscombe, a neighbour seaman, who had also pushed off with his boat as we were hoisting our lug-'it would be more wise, I reckon, if we keep close, for yon sky is full of mischief.' Would that I had listened to his advice! Charley was strongly for returning; but, I hardly know why, I pertinaciously opposed him, and the wind soon carried us out. As we made way, we almost forgot the cause of dispute in the management of the boat. The sun had not long disappeared before the deepening furrows, the broken swell and white snowy foam on the sea, excited by the violence of the wind, which came in heavy squalls, gave us warning to return. I never recollect its getting dark so suddenly, at the same season, as on that night. The little boat scudded gallantly along, cresting the waves like a bird; and as it now blew a stiffish gale, I put her head about, and reduced our canvass to a few feet: indeed, accustomed as I had been all my life to the alternations of a nautical existence, I felt the blood mantle in my cheeks when I reflected on the danger I had wilfully brought poor Charley into. He kept at the helm; and, seated on one of the thwarts, I minded the lug, and occasionally baled out the water which the boat shipped. We cannot now be far from shore, Charley,' said I; 'mother will give us a fine row for this night's work, though.' Before he could answer, we became distinctly sensible of the immense masses and tumultuous roar of the white breakers, which fell on the rocky beach with tremendous fury.— 'Let go, Arthur-let go every thing!' shouted Charley. Oh God! we are lost!' he exclaimed, as a land squall took us aback, and we instantly went over, merged in the whirling masses of that raging sea. I instinctively seized one of the oars, and at the same instant a wave cast my brother forcibly against me. I convulsively grasped his hair with my left hand. Oh God! save me, Arthur-oh, my poor mother!' he said, as a heavy wave separated us with violence. I let go the oar, called on his name in agony, making a plunge after him in the dark sea-but he was gone! * * How I got ashore I know not; but I was found at break of day lying, bleeding and half senseless, amongst the bent which grew a short distance from high-water mark. The disfigured body of poor Charley had been washed to the top of the shingles, almost to my feet. "After this, I pined for some time in deep melancholy, for I accused myself of my brother's death. Our cottage was situated at the termination of the valley, close under the lee of a bold rock, near the wild sea shore. I have often recalled, with a mixture of delight and anguish, the mountains, the dark cliffs, and rocky hollows of the land of my youth. The scenery once so loved became insupportable to me; and one night, as we were all sitting at home mending our nets, I told my mother I was resolved to go to sea again, if it were only for one, voyage. The Almighty's will be done, Arthur,' said she; I am getting old now-but you have been a good son to me, so, if you must go, I won't be the person to oppose it.' On hearing this, my brother William, who had heard with delight my account of foreign climes, begged also that he might go with me this one voyage,-she would still have Harry, and Tom could be sent for to assist him in managing our boat. In short, a nameless impulse impelled me to join the lad's request, though contrary to my mother's will; and I wrote next day to the mate of the brig Ocean, of Bristol, with whom I was acquainted, to try to get berths for us in her next trip to Newfoundland. I was successful; and we sailed in a few weeks afterwards for that island. Our voyage out was unusually long--we had a succession of contrary winds, and some passengers on board brought a fever with them, which attacked several of the crew, who fell victims to it. Our voyage inwards seemed to compensate for the former delay. We were getting in southern latitudes, and had had a succession of favouring winds and clear skies, so that we made a very rapid run. I was at the wheel one afternoon, when the skipper, who was pacing the quarterdeck, according to his custom, drew my attention to a little mass of clouds, which was just visible in the horizon. It had first a conical shape, but gradually expanded, darkening in its hue every moment. We must make all snug, Havell,' was the experienced remark of Captain Stone, as sure as we're afloat we shall have a gale ere dark.' All hands were now busy in striking the masts, taking the royal and top-gallant yards on deck, and making every thing secure. The result justified the skipper's preeaution, for a gale did come on about It was sunset, and a terrible gale it was;-the sky became rapidly overcast, and the storm came like a whirlwind, sweeping every thing before it on its desolating course. We were almost thrown on our beam-ends, and our storm-jib (which, with a close-reefed main-top-sail, was all the canvass we had out) were completely shivered by the first blast, carrying away the top-sail-yard also. I can spare you the description of a storm. We had prepared against the danger; and I should have felt little uneasiness, had not a boding and indefinable sensation of evil, excited probably by the dreadful recollection of the last storm I had been in, oppressed me the whole evening. My absence was such, that the ship yawed several times three or four points from her course while I had charge of the wheel. It would have been pitchy dark had it not been for the lightning, which was fearfully vivid and distinct. We drove on under bare poles, as perfectly helpless as man could be supposed to be when opposed to such a power. past midnight, and I had fancied the gale was somewhat moderating, when, during a very strong flash of lightning, one of the hands roared out- Ship-ahead! starboard your helm! hard-astarboard there!' I was just coming on deck with my brother, when these words sung in our ears like a deathknell. The ship was going ten or eleven knots, lurching heavily in the trough of the convulsed and deeply-agitated sea, which swept her deck clear from stem to stern. În another minute, before any one on board had time for thought, a rushing, whizzing sound-a deep and rapid commotion in the waters, was felt by every hand, and a large ship struck us, with a loud and terrific crash, on our weather-bow, with the most tremendous force, carrying every mast, every stick, clean away. Being checked thus suddenly on her course, she recoiled for an instant. The Ocean, reeling over till her lee-gunwale and deck were many feet under water, gave a violent lurch-ahead, which carried us again close to the other ship. I instantly seized my brother's hand, as we held fast by the bulwarks, and instinctively sprung on her deck-how I know not to this day. While in the act of following me, the Ocean reeled convulsively over, and my brother lost his footing: there was one wild yell of agony sent forth on the wings of the storm, and the ship went down head foremost, amidst an eddying gulf of boiling and hissing waters. The strange sail gathered way-there was a blank before me--I was the only living |