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but for a moment, yet long enough to wish the thoughtful artist a happy voyage back again to those divine shores, and a pencil ever more and more faithful to reproduce their beauty. Had we more time, this sunset poem, by Casilear, would tempt us, it is so full of the true feeling, so accurate in drawing, so warm in color; nor should we slight these graceful, genuine studies which prefigure distinction for the names of Coleman and Shattuck.

But it is by other pictures of another promise that our eyes and minds are chiefly charmed; by these small sketches into which Darley has thrown the fire of a true imagination, controlled by a master's knowledge, sketches where every line has a meaning, and the spirit of a poet interprets, with equal force, the temper of the patriot Yankee, and the passions of the unfettered savage; or by these fine canvases of William Hunt. In works like these we recognize a future for painting. Realism in art has been pushed to its last term in our day, and we have been summoned to surrender our old-fashioned faith, that it was the artist's highest function to add a new creation to the world. It is true, the student, who reproduces with fidelity and feeling what he sees, adds his way of seeing it to our experiences, and in so far exerts the faculty of creation, which is the prerogative of genius. But is it not a higher function which he discharges when he finds within himself a vision of beauty never seen on land or sea," and by his shaping spirit of imagination guides his skillful pencil or his skillful pen to give that vision permanence, and a place on earth? Do you suppose Shakespeare formed Portia or Desdemona, Othello or Falstaff, Lear or Hamlet, in Fleet street, or at the Mermaid Tavern, or in the pit of the Globe Theatre? Life gave him a thousand hints, but each character he drew, came new-coined, individual from his glorious brain. As with poets, so with painters-the age of realism is but the dawn of the greater age of imagination; Giotto is the morning-star who precedes Raphael. And the men to whom we must look for the future of art in our own day, are the men who give us signs of a revival of the imagination.

Is not our young Parisian one of these men? See his "Marguerite"-a simple,

composition, thoughtfully studied, disagreeably couturesque in the conventional character of the sky and the backgrounds, but full of feeling-that girl, plucking to pieces the sybil-flower in her hand, is a poetic shape, and you will remember her as if you had met her walking in among the "bearded barley."

Or look at the "Fortune-Teller." Might not Scott have imagined that keen, dark face portentous in every line? And how full of vague awe are the features of the child-how painfully earnest those of the mother! For the force of this group, where shall we find a rival? Shall we call upon Mr. Ehninger, whose picture of the "Sword" reminds you of a sonnet by Milton; whose "Gamblers," if a trifle melo-dramatic in treatment. is Byronic in intensity of expression? Or if, while seeking imagination. you desire its happier exercise, why should you not pause awhile before these works of Mr. Johnson, whose name you do not know, but in whose "Card Players" and "Savoyard" you recognize the spirit and the patient power of a true artist. Call them German if you must, but admit the sincerity of the feeling, the skill of the design, the softened harmony of the coloring. Is it not worth while to encourage men who can and will paint as these men do?

Or do you prefer the style of that vast portrait of a governor going down stairs with his hat in his hand, which is as much like a work of art as Dr. Johnson's famous doggrel was like a ballad? If you do, you deserve to be married to that conscious young lady yonder in turquoise green, and to have the portraits of your children painted after the manner of that chalk-legged infant astraddle of a red chair. But you will not invite so dark a fate. You will agree with us in hoping less and less from the art which mere vanity nourishes, more and more from the art which respects itself, creates in the passion of creation, and waits quietly to receive the meed of honor and of wealth, which shall one day be accorded, even in our material moneymaking America. We are not so very bad, all things considered; at least, not so very much worse than our neighbors. How long is it since Haydon cut his throat in London, and David Scott died of despair in Edinburgh, and Leopold Robert blew out his brains in Venice?

PUTNAM'S MONTHLY.

A Magazine of Literature, Science, and Art.

VOL. VII.—JUNE, 1856.-NO. XLII.

AN AMERICAN'S ADVENTURE IN PEGU.

T was in 1852, shortly after the bom

IT

bardment of Rangoon, and while the British forces, under Gen. Godwin, were still occupying that place, that a message came down from the Woon, or head man, of the friendly people who inhabited the interior town of Pegu, stating that they had been attacked by a superior force of Burmese, driven from their homes, and compelled to take refuge in the jungle. The Peguans are naturally a brave race, entertaining a bitter hereditary hatred for the aggressive Burmese, always armed against them, always warring with them on continually recurring pretexts, and always disposed to join with any force hostile to them. They, therefore, informed the general, that if he would send a small party of British troops to their aid they would attack and retake the place. Meantime their families were in the jungle suffering.great privation and exposure, their households scattered, and their property destroyed.

The town of Pegu-city of the great pagoda Shway-Madoo, the Golden Supreme-lies in a most beautiful valley, one of the very few in that country which are watered throughout the dry season, and the one upon which the people depend, for the most part, for their supplies of rice.

Accordingly the general determined to send a force to aid these poor people, and ordered the steamer to which I was attached, the Phlegethon, to repair to VOL. VII.-36

the place immediately, with-in addition to her own crew, which consisted of two hundred and thirty or forty men—a detachment of Bengal (Sepoy) rifles, numbering about a hundred and fifty, a small party of marines from the frigate Fox (Commodore Lambert's flag-ship), and a company of sappers and miners, in case of the necessity arising of throwing up field-works. should we not succeed in taking the town in the first assault.

One morning, about five o'clock, when we were within twenty or twenty-five miles of Pegu, the steamer got aground and stuck fast. Finding that there was no prospect of getting any nearer with her, the river being very low, it was determined to send the force up in the boats. The steamer not being large enough to hold all the men, we had been towing astern the launch and two cutters of the Fox, filled with sailors and marines; and these, with our own three cutters, were sufficient to convey our men to the attack. We started soon after day-break, and pulled up between the high banks of the river, making our way past the Burmese villages that at short intervals occupied the shores-the men all well armed, and three surgeons, of whom I was one, in the boats; we were penetrating a country new to us, and our expedition was of course novel and startling to the natives, filling them with all the apprehensions of war, and inspiring them with that superstitious horror which a primitive people have of

the approach of strangers of a different race and color, and with whose name is associated everything that is terrible. We were all on the alert, expecting an attack every moment, as we went up with the flood-tide, which runs in the Pegu like a mill-race. Soon we began to hear the native war-gongs beating in every direction; and the distant cry of warriors giving the alarm-a guttural, monotonous hoo-hoo-was bayed on every side.

This lugubrious warning was more like the baying of countless dogs than any other civilized noise, and we knew that its object was to gather a force to intercept us, or, at all events, to strengthen the defense of the town of Pegu. Ocea sionally, however, we passed a Karien village where the inhabitants were friendly. Only women, and children, and old men were left in these places, and they saluted us joyfully with shouts and waving of white cloths, dancing and running down to the river bank in crowds, pointing up the stream, and hurrying us on to the town, which they hoped we would take. The higher up we got, the louder grew the alarm; the gongs became as innumerable as the voices of runners and scouts carrying on the warning, and the whole produced a melancholy harmony, now like the sighing of the wind, now like the dying away of thunder.

All this time we were exposed to the intensest heat of a tropical sun, a heat such as is experienced nowhere but in Burmah; for, whatever may be the indications of the thermometer, heat is not felt in any other spot on earth as it is in the low, flat lands along the delta of the Irawaddy. Thermometrically it may not be so great, but Burmese heat has a peculiarly depressing effect; it makes you faint; it seems to steam and stew your head, and you find yourself bending under it as under a great and growing weight. We had no awnings over the boats, and most of us were dressed in thick cloth uniform. I wore a heavy cloth navy cap-the regulation cap of the Company-an undress blue cloth frock-coat, trowsers of the same material, and, in a belt at my waist, a sword and a pair of heavy ship's pistols. Very soon after the sun rose I had begun to experience the wilting influence of his rays, and, as he mounted higher and higher, rapidly acquiring strength, I was fast becoming

sick. At first I was seized with a slight fit of vomiting; then my mind became confused. For a moment I would forget where I was, but only for a moment; the next I would recover my recollection. I had a sense of dried peas with hot water poured upon them, swelling in my skull; I became violently excited, raved, said I don't know what to the men around me, seized one, thinking he was about to attack me--and then fell over on my face in the bottom of the boat-coup de soleil!

How long I remained insensible I have never known; but my first consciousness was of lying over the side of the boat, with a sailor dipping up water in his hat and pouring it over my head. My clothes were open, my dress loosened as much as possible, and saturated with water. I recognized some of the officers, particularly an assistant-surgeon of the 18th Royal Irish, my intimate friend, and was more or less conscious, from that time, that I was in a remote spot, and on a dangerous expedition, although I did not recollect the nature of the enterprise nor even the name of the country. In recognizing the officers, I could not recall their connection with the events then recurring. I heard the beating of the tomtoms along the land; I heard the same multitudinous hoo-hooing, baying, wailing, and it filled me with irrepressible horror at times, while at others it excited me to madness. By degrees I became more quiet, and, as soon as it was safe to do so, I was removed from the cutter to a large Burmese rice-boat, housed over with mats and capable of containing from a hundred to a hundred and fifty persons. This floating house had windows and doors, and had been fitted up with hospital traps of every sort-a complete surgeon's and apothecary's outfit. Here I was laid upon a litter-dhoolee, as it is called in India - stripped, and water poured on me as before, by the bucketful, especially over my head and breast. The dhoolee was stretched in the middle of the boat, between the doors and windows. Occasionally, I relapsed into insensibility, but under the medical treatment, which was vigorous and pertinacious, I recovered sufficiently, every now and then, to recognize the faces and voices of the two medical officers who had kindly remained in charge of me, as well as the dhoolee-bearers-half-naked Hin

doos, who belonged to the hospital department and a cabin-boy of the frigate Fox, a handsome, spirited little fellow of fourteen or thereabouts, who had been permitted to accompany us for the purpose of witnessing an action. I had scarcely recovered my consciousness sufficiently to understand where I was and what had happened, when a message arrived from Capt. Tarletongreat-grandson, by-the-by, of the troublesome Tarleton of our Revolutionary war, and a dashing leader-commanding these medical officers to join immediately their respective detachments, and to leave me in the best care they could provide. Accordingly, they asked me whether they could safely leave me alone, relying upon my sense and experience to do that for myself which there would be no one to do for me in their absence. I urged them to go.

Shortly after they left-it seemed to me not more than half an hour-the little boy, of whom I have spoken, approached the side of the dhoolee, and, while bathing me with a sponge, giving me water to drink, and changing the mustard-poultices, told me where we were. He said this hospital-boat had been moored on the side opposite the town, under a high bank, where there were only jungle and the ruins of a burnt village, a few hundred yards off. He assured me that I had no cause for alarm; that we were perfectly safe; that the officers had explained to him that the boat had been moored there for safety, because there were no Burmese on that side, and that, in a very short time, they would rejoin us. My excitement was thus partially allayed, and I became comparatively calm; still, that horrible banging of gongs, mingled with the rattling of musketry-for our troops were then storming the place—and the occasional discharge of the twelvepounders we had brought up in our boats, were, at times, frightful in their effect upon me, and it was with great difficulty that I could master the impulse to leap into the water and hurry toward the sceno of action. All these sounds seemed to go through and through my head. The effect of the coup de soleil on my sense of hearing was, to intensify it beyond endurance. If one of those guns had been fired close by my ear, it could scarcely have produced an effect more shocking than it did at the dis

tance of more than a mile. How long the engagement lasted, it is, of course, impossible for me, under circumstances of such confusion and even delirium, to remember; but presently there was a pause: not a gong was to be heard; that dismal slogan was no longer to be caught; the artillery and musketry were still; all was perfect silence. The dhoolee-bearers were squatting around on their haunches, and one or two of them had lighted hubble-bubbles. The boy went to the door, and, presently returning, whispered to me, seeming anxious to communicate something important; but, in my condition then, I could not understand him, and hardly gave him my attention. Then there was a stir among the Coolies-a quick expression of alarm; they laid down their hubble-bubbles, and went to the windows on the side next the bank. Immediately they rushed back in great confusion and terror, shouting, "Burmee, Burmee man; Sahib, Sahib, Burmee man!" The boy again went to the door, and, after reconnoitering, returned and informed me that a large force of Burmese were gathering on the bank over the boat; and, as he spoke, I could hear their shouts. They had come from below, probably, to assist their friends, but had taken such care to keep at a safe distance from our men, that they had blundered upon this boat in its exposed and helpless situation. There was hardly an appreciable interval between the announcement of their presence and the discharge of their muskets. The roof of the boat was quickly perforated in every direction, and bullets whistled about the bed; they struck the timbers over my head, and by my side, and, more than once, struck the bed itself. With a scream of terror, the dhoolee-bearers leapt into the water, and then I was alone with the boy. For a minute or two, there was a pause in the firing, the attention of the Burmese being distracted by the panic of the Hindoos; but it was immediately resumed, this time directed upon the swimming Coolies.

Now, remember that I was stark naked, intensely excited (except at blessed moments of insensibility), in a high state of cerebral exaltation, reckless of da iger, possessed by a sort of devil resembling mania a potu in all its phenomena. The little boy, now my

only companion, preserving wonderful self-possession and calmness of demeanor, came to me, seized me with both hands, and shook me hard, as if to wake me. He cried, "Get up, sir; get up, sir; no time to lose now!" and asked me if I could swim. I answered, "Yes," he all the time dragging over my arms and legs a pair of pilot-cloth trowsers and a pea-jacket, after which he led me-almost carrying me, feeble as I was-to the side of the boat furthest from the Burmese, who, probably on hearing his exclamations, had resumed their firing, and were rapidly drilling the roof, but still afraid to come down upon the boat, perhaps suspecting an ambush.

He led me to the door, and pointed to where, some five or six hundred yards up the stream, our boats were aground, in charge of seven or eight men, under command of a midshipman. Remember, now, that all our force was engaged at the town of Pegu (but how far off, or in what direction, that lay, I knew not then); that there had been only a pause in their firing, which by this time was resumed with increased rattle of musketry and roar of cannon. Pointing to the boats, the boy asked me if I could swim so far. I replied, "Yes," and asked him if he also could. He said, "Yes." I then plunged into the river, and struck out in the direction of the boats, bidding him follow close behind me. I imagined at the time, though now I know it to have been but imagination, that I heard him leap in after me, and I continued to fancy, not only that I heard him striking out and blowing the water, as swimmers do, but that I even saw him; and I spoke to him frequently, believing him to be at my side. The Burmese, perceiving me as I made the plunge, instantly redoubled their fire, and bullets fell thickly around me. I could hear them hiss close by my head and back, pelting the water like nuts thrown upon the surface by the handful. Fortunately, the tide was in my favor, and I swam rapidly, being at all times an expert swimmer. Under the cooling influence of the water, I seemed to recover my presence of mind, and to have the balance of my nerves restored. I became perfectly calm, unalarmed-master of myself in every respect-with more self-possession and a cooler comprehension of the circumstances surround

ing me than I had ever had before in all my life: nor can I refer all of this to other than almost supernatural influences, though, of course, something is to be attributed to the cooling agency of the water. I let my body down into the stream as low as possible, so as to expose only the back of my head, thus making my human target for the bullets of my hunters as small as I could, and as low also; for I was well aware, from precious experience acquired in a busy campaign, that they fire very high, holding the stocks of their muskets under their armpits, and not against their shoulders, as we do; besides, their fire-arms are of the most wretched description, and every man makes his own powder. Their balls, therefore, generally passed over my head, and fell into the water, a little beyond me.

I had no fear at any moment; a strange and omnipotent faith in fate took possession of me; I did not even take the trouble to make up my mind that I should escape. I literally had no idea that it was a possible thing for me to be shot then. Yet, when I had almost reached the boats, I was seized with extreme faintness-whether from the reaction of hope, inspired by the proximity of my friends, depriving me of the strength and courage of despair and rage, or from what other cause I know not; I became suddenly sick, and felt myself rapidly sinking. I could make but a few strokes more, holding up my hand, and crying for help. The smallest of the boats, our third cutter, with a solitary man in it, came to my rescue, and, just as my strength was finally failing, he dragged me out of the water. As I fell over between the seats, gasping and exhausted with the shock of relief and safety, but by no means insensible-on the contrary, fully appreciating my position-that man said to me: "I think it's all up with us now, sir; but you stand by me, and I'll stand by you: we're two lonesome Yankees here." He then sculled his boat back to the others-the Burmese, meantime, having suspended their fire in the direction of the hospitalboat. You must not forget the boy, whom I had quite forgotten, and did not again remember until I saw him some days later. When we reached the other boats, I was lifted into the large launch of the Fox, under the awning (all the boats were now covered with

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