International Weekly Miscellany of Literature, Art and Science — Volume 1, No. 2, July 8, 1850

TO ——. By Mrs. R.B.K

Oh how I loved thee! how I blessed the hour, When first thy lips, wak'ning my trusting heart, Like some soft southern gale upon a flower, Into a blooming hope, murmured "we ne'er will part." Never to part! alas! the lingering sound Thro' the sad echoes of pale Memory's cave, Startles once more the hope my young soul found, Into bright hues, but, only for the grave ... Must we then part! ah, till this heavy hour, Fraught with the leaden weight of sorrowing years, I could have stemmed grief's tide like some light shower, Where shows a rainbow hope to quell all idle fears. But the dim phantoms of o'er shadowed pleasures, Gleaming thro' gathering mists that cloud my heart, Lend but a transient ray, those fragile treasures— And heavier darkness falls to gloom the thought "We part!" JUNE 22, 1850.

Original Correspondence

RAMBLES IN THE PENINSULA

NO. II GRENADA, May 26, 1850

My Dear Friend—My companion, Mr. Ronalds, left this morning in the diligence for Madrid, and I am, therefore, for the first time since I have been in Europe alone—the only citizen of the United States at present in this ancient Moorish city: alone, I may almost say, in the midst of paradise. Yet the beauties of nature will not compensate for the solitude of the heart, which is continually yearning after sympathy; we wish for something beyond the pleasures of the eye, and I would that you were with me. I would take you up to me Alhambra, and descant to you for hours upon its perfections and its romantic history. To me this wondrous pile has become familiar; I have seen it at all hours of the day, and have visited it in the enchantment of moonlight; and never will pass from my memory the pleasant hours I have spent within its sacred precincts; I shall remember them and those who shared them with me—forever. A few days since we made up a party and rode out to the famous town of Santa Fe, in the delightful Vega, about eight miles away. We were all dressed in the gay costume of Andalusia, and presented, as you may imagine, a picturesque appearance; my companions were lively fellows, and we had a great deal of sport on the way. Santa Fe is now a dilapidated place, but its associations make it well deserving a visit. It was built by Ferdinand, during the memorable siege of Grenada; it was here that Boabdil signed the capitulation of his city; and it was from this spot, too, that Columbus was dispatched on his mission of discovering a new world. The rich and fertile Vega, as we rode with the speed of the wind over it, seemed to me like a fairy land—so luxuriant the vegetation—so rich the meadows and fields of waving grain—so exquisite the variety of cottages, and villages, and groves, dotting so vast a plain—so pure and transparent the atmosphere, that the most distant objects are as clearly defined as those nearest us. Imagine so lovely a landscape—thirty miles in length by twenty-five in width, surrounded by tremendous mountains,—those of the Sierra Nevada, rising back of Grenada to the height of thirteen thousand feet above the level of the sea, their summits covered by a dazzling mantle of snow: imagine this, and you will have some faint idea of this beautiful Eden of Spain. It is worth a long pilgrimage to gaze but for one moment upon it, particularly from the Torre de la Vela of the Alhambra, whence I have beheld it, both in the bright, gay sunshine, and through the solemnly beautiful night, illumined by the stars and moon.

The walks and gardens of Grenada are exceedingly beautiful. The principal promenade is called (and very appropriately) El Salon. It is of considerable extent—about eighty feet in width, with regular lines of lofty elms on either side, the bending branches of which nearly meet in an arch overhead. At both extremities of this charming avenue is a large and handsome fountain of ever-flowing water. The ground of the walk is hard—slightly curved; and as smooth and clean as the floor of a ball-room, where convenient seats of stone, tastefully arranged beneath the shade of the spreading trees, seem to invite one to meditation and repose. Outside of this lovely promenade, are blooming gardens, teeming with roses and other flowers, which fill the air with fragrance, while through them on one side runs the river Darre, and on the other the Xenie—gentle streams, whose waters unite their melodious rippling to the chorus of nightingales, ever singing above their pleasant banks. But description is tiresome, especially when one is attempting to present something beyond his power, so I shall not fatigue you with it any longer: besides, a worthy English curate, now my only companion in this wretched hotel, is boring me so incessantly with conversation that I find it difficult to collect any thoughts to put on paper. I wish he was already in heaven, as, surely, he well deserves to be.

It was my intention to have gone from this place to Almeria on horseback, but as R. has left for Madrid, I shall return to Malaga, probably, in the diligence to-night. It leaves at 12 o'clock, under an escort of six cavalry, which on this road is indispensably necessary. From Malaga I shall take steamer for Valencia and Barcelona, and according to my present calculations, will reach Paris about the first of June next. F—— wants me to go to Italy—I do not know exactly what course to take, as traveling in Italy during the summer season is not considered healthy. I should like to remain in France a month or so, in order to improve myself in their language: as for Spanish, I speak it with fluency and ease already, and it is certainly one of the most beautiful languages in the world.

Yours, JOHN E. WARREN.

THE SUMMER NIGHT

We are in the midst of July—in the midst of summer—of the most genial and pure-aired summer that we have had for years. How beautifully RICHTER, translated by our Longfellow, of kindred genius, describes the holy time! "The summer alone might elevate us. God what a season! In sooth, I often know not whether to stay in the city, or go forth into the fields, so alike is it everywhere and beautiful. If we go outside the city gate, the very beggars gladden our hearts, for they are no longer cold; and the post-boys who can pass the whole night on horseback, and the shepherds asleep in the open air. We need no gloomy house. We make a chamber out of every bush, and therefore have my good industrious bees before us, and the most gorgeous butterflies. In the gardens on the hills sit schoolboys, and in the open air look out words in the dictionary. On account of the game-laws there is no shooting now, and every thing in bush and furrow, and on green branches, can enjoy itself right heartily and safely. In all directions come travelers along the roads; they have their carriages for the most part thrown back—the horses have branches stuck in their saddles, and the drivers roses in their mouths. The shadows of the clouds go trailing along,—the birds fly between them up and down, and journeymen mechanics wander cheerily on with their bundles, and want no work. Even when it rains we love to stand out of doors, and breathe in the quickening influence, and the wet does the herdsman harm no more. And is it night, so sit we only in a cooler shadow, from which we plainly discern the daylight on the northern horizon and on the sweet warm stars of heaven. Wheresoever I look, there do I find my beloved blue on the flax in blossoms, on the corn-flowers, and the godlike endless heaven into which I would fain spring as into a stream. And now, if we turn homeward again, we find indeed but fresh delight. The street is a true nursery, for in the evening after supper, the little ones, though they have but a few clothes upon them, are again let out into the open air, and not driven under the bed-quilt as in winter. We sup by daylight, and hardly know where the candlesticks are. In the bed-chamber the windows are open day and night, and likewise most of the doors, without danger. The oldest women stand by the window without a chill, and sew. Flowers lie about everywhere—by the ink-stand—on the lawyer's papers—on the justice's table, and the tradesman's counter. The children make a great noise, and one hears bowling of ninepin alleys half the night through our walks up and down the street; and talks aloud, and sees the stars shoot in the high heaven. The foreign musicians, who wend their way homeward toward midnight, go fiddling along the street to their quarters, and the whole neighborhood runs to the window. The extra posts arrive later, and the horses neigh. One lies by the noise in the window and droops asleep. The post-horns awake him and the whole starry heaven hath spread itself open. O God! what a joyous life on this little earth."

Emma is from the German, and signifies a nurse; Caroline, from the Latin—noble minded; George, from the Greek-a farmer; Martha, from Hebrew—bitterness; the beautiful and common Mary is Hebrew, and means a drop of salt water—a tear; Sophia, from Greek—wisdom; Susan, from Hebrew—a lily; Thomas, from Hebrew—a twin; and Robert, from German—famous in council.

Authors and Books

Mr. James and Copyright.—It appears that the visit of Mr. G.P.R. James, with which we are presently to be honored, is not, after all, solely for the "gratification of the natural curiosity" of the author of the book with so many titles, as some time ago he advised one of his correspondents here. The London News observes incidentally: "The long-vexed question of an international copyright with our transatlantic cousins shows symptoms of rising to a speedy crisis. Up to a recent period the Yankees had all the advantage of the defective state of the law. They could steal freely from our literary richness; whereas, not only had they little of their own to be robbed of, but their handful of authors took very good care to secure English publishers, and, therefore, English copyrights, for their works. This defense, however, a recent law decision has wrested from the Coopers and Irvings of the States; so that English booksellers have now a perfect right to treat American authors as American booksellers have long been in the habit of serving English authors. And there is something just in this lex talionis. If Dickens, may be reprinted and sold for a shilling in New York, why may not Cooper be reprinted and sold for a shilling in London? At all events, the reprisal system will possibly incline our Yankee neighbors to listen to reason, and to favor the embassy which Mr. James, the novelist, is to undertake to the States, with a view of making preliminary arrangements for a full and satisfactory code directed against all future international literary free-booting."

Albert Smith and "Protection."—The Spectator, misled by a statement in the Morning Post, to the effect that a Mr. Albert Smith was present, by invitation, at a Protectionist meeting at Wallingford, made some caustic remarks on the supposed adhesion of the witty novelist to the cause of dear bread. The latter, astounded thereby, sends the Spectator a note, in which he says:

"The Sphinx, at which you pleasantly affirm I came home laughing from Egypt, never propounded a darker puzzle to any of its victims than you have to me. From last week's Spectator I learn, for the first time, that I was at a Protection meeting at Wallingford on some particular day, and that I wept at the prices of 1845. Allow me to assure you that I never was at Wallingford in my life: nor, indeed, did I ever attend a public meeting anywhere. I have not the slightest notion what the prices—I presume of corn—were in 1845; and I should never think of expressing an opinion, in any way, upon politics, except against that school which abuses respectability and philanthropizes mischievous rift-raff."

R.H. Stoddard is preparing for the press of Ticknor, Reed & Fields, a collection of his Poems, to include most of those he has contributed to the periodicals since the appearance of his "Footprints," two years ago. The book will be welcomed by the lovers of genuine poetry. Mr. Stoddard is a young man of unquestionable genius, and we have been pleased to observe that there is a decided improvement from time to time in his compositions, indicating the industry and wise direction of his studies, in refinement of taste, elegance of finish, and a rapid and vigorous expansion of his imagination. His masterpiece, thus far, is The Castle in the Air, fitly praised by our neighbor of the Albion, as one of the finest productions of the present time. We do not know of any poet at home or abroad to whose fame it would not have added new luster. In the July number of the Knickerbocker we find the following "Dirge," which is not unworthy of him:

There's a new grave in the old church-yard, Another mound in the snow; And a maid whose soul was whiter far, Sleeps in her shroud below. The winds of March are piping loud, And the snow comes down for hours; But by-and-by the April rains Will bring the sweet May flowers. The sweet May flowers will cover her grave Made green by the April rain; But blight will lie on our memories. And our tears will fall in vain!

Inedited Correspondence of Goethe and Schiller.—By many friends of German literature it will be remembered that Goethe, during his life, carefully preserved a particular portion of his papers and letters, which he in 1827 transferred to the government of Weimar, on the condition that the box in which they were contained should not be opened until the present year. The 17th of May was the date fixed upon, and in accordance with the will of the deceased poet, his heirs and those of his brother poet Schiller were on that day judicially summoned to Weimar to witness the opening of the case. Of Schiller's descendants there were present on the occasion, his eldest son and eldest daughter, and the widow of Ernst von Schiller. Goethe was represented by his daughter-in-law and his two grandsons, Wolfgang and Walther, who came from Vienna, their present place of residence, for the purpose. Schiller's eldest son is chief inspector of forests in Wurtemberg. Madame de Junot and Frau von Goethe were also present. The box on being opened was found to contain a full correspondence between Schiller and Goethe, ready arranged for the press. A codicil in Goethe's will provides for their publication. Most of the letters, all of Schiller's in fact, are autograph.

The Countess Ossoli, (Margaret Fuller,) we learn from the Tribune, will be in New York about the 20th of the present month. Her work on Italy will be given to the press immediately after her arrival.

Dr. Hoefer against Dr. Layard.—Dr. Hoefer, a well-known savant in France and Germany, has astonished the Parisians by the publication of a work in which he boldly denies the authenticity of the ruins of Nineveh. Even admitting, he says, that the ruins of Nineveh remain, it is impossible that they can be in the place which Dr. Layard has explored; and, moreover, the Assyrian-like sculptures and inscriptions found in the supposed Nineveh, were the work of a later, and a different people, who had the affectation of imitating Assyrian taste.

Both Rogers and Wilson, it is said, have declined the laureateship. Referring to the office, the Daily News has a very prosy simile: "A dog, of any sense or self-respect, with a tin-kettle tied to his tail, acutely feels the misery and degradation of the music he is compelled to make. What the tin-kettle is to the dog, the yearly Ode is to the muse. The board, if you please, but not the annoyance and irritation of the jangle."

Mr. George H. Boker is at present engaged in preparing for the stage his new play of "The Betrothal." A correspondent who has seen it in manuscript, and for whose critical opinion we have a very high respect, pronounces it superior, both in action, combination and development of character, and general management of the plot, to any of his previous dramatic writings. It will probably be brought out next fall, not only in this city and Philadelphia, but in London, where his tragedy of "Calaynos" had such a successful run. We believe Mr. Boker will yet demonstrate that the art of dramatic writing is not lost, nor likely to be while we retain the language of Shakspeare, Jonson and Fletcher.

Bayard Taylor will deliver the poem before the societies of Harvard College on the 18th inst. Among his predecessors have been Charles Sprague, Oliver Wendell Holmes, Edward Everett, W.C. Bryant, George Bancroft, Frederick H. Hedge, and some dozen others of the first rank in letters.

John G. Whittier, we are sorry to learn, has been for some time in ill health. He is living quietly upon his farm in Haverhill, on the Merrimack.

Browning's "Christmas-Eve."—With great peculiarity and eccentricity, Mr. Browning is a genuine poet. Whether eccentricity is inseparable from genius we shall leave it to others to determine. Mr. Turner's peculiarities have admirers, and some persons affect to discover merits in Mr. Carlyle's German style. Mr. Browning's poetic powers raise him almost above ordinary trammels, but it has been justly remarked of him, that transcendentalism delivered in doggerel verse has throughout the effect of a discord."

From the Illustrated London News

GEN. ANDRE SANTA CRUZ

This valiant soldier has lately arrived in London as Minister Plenipotentiary from the Republic of Bolivia to the English Court. He before visited Europe in the character of exile, but his misfortune is in a measure repaid by the importance and dignity of his present position.

General André Santa Cruz was born in 1794, at La Paz, the capital of one of the provinces of Bolivia, and is a direct descendant, through his mother, from the Incas of Peru. He began his military career immediately upon quitting college, in the Spanish army, wherein he attained the rank of Lieutenant-Colonel. He joined the liberating army in 1820, when Peru proclaimed her independence, and by his valor and tactics, largely contributed to maintain the proclamation. In 1821, as a reward for his services, he was promoted to the rank of Colonel, and in conjunction with General Sucre, assisted to raise the standard of liberty in the State of Ecuador. It was in the course of this campaign that the battle of Pichincha was fought in which Santa Cruz distinguished himself at the head of the advanced guard. These services attracted the attention of General Bolivar, and won for him the rank of General of Brigade. He was next engaged with General Bolivar in the celebrated campaigns of Xemiu and Ayacucho, which closed the wars of independence, in 1824.

The achievements of General Santa Cruz in the course of these campaigns were rewarded by the dignity of Grand Marshal of Peru, and the government of the departments of Chuquisaca and La Paz. His sagacious administration in his latter capacity marked him out as the fittest Governor of Peru, to which high post he was quickly nominated by his admirer and friend General Bolivar. The national records of this period bear ample testimony to the enlightened policy and the systematic prudence with which General Santa Cruz presided over the destinies of Peru. He retired from his post in 1827, in consequence of the defection of part of the army from his staunch friend Bolivar, and accepted the comparatively insignificant appointment of Minister Plenipotentiary to the Governments of Chili and Buenos Ayres. In 1829, a serious rebellion, that threatened irretrievable disasters, having broken out in the Republic of Bolivia, the friends of order appealed to their old friend General Santa Cruz as being the only man capable of re-establishing public tranquillity. His firmness and mercy had the rapid effect of calming the excited spirits of the rebels; and as soon as public confidence was restored, he placed the financial affairs of the country on a firm footing, and in conjunction with wise counselors, drew up the civil and penal codes, which were published within the period of his discretional government. In 1831, the National Congress elected him Constitutional President of Bolivia and Captain-General of the national forces; and, moreover, confirmed the clause in the will of General Bolivar, which bequeathed the medal of honor to him. His occupation of the Presidential chair, to which he was reelected in 1835, was marked by unusual commercial and financial prosperity, and the yearly revenue always exceeded the annual expenditure. He paid great attention, also, to the diffusion of knowledge.

Peru, harassed and divided by internal dissension, turned, as his native country had turned in the hour of trouble, to General Santa Cruz. It was proposed to form a confederation of the two republics. This proposition was carried out and solemnly ratified in 1835; whereupon the Peruvians, under the protection of their former chief magistrate, laid down arms, and prepared to enjoy the blessings of peace. The Confederation was confirmed by a convocation of the Congresses of Cicuani, Huawra, and Tapacari, in 1836, and General Santa Cruz was named "Protector of the Confederation." In his capacity of Protector, the General made a triumphant entry into Lima, in 1837, where the deliberations of a General Congress of the Confederation were at once opened, and the constitution of the Confederation was determined upon. The Protector's liberal policy had secured the sympathy and esteem of all enlightened nations, gave an impetus to native enterprise and industry, and above all, restored the credit of Peru by acknowledging and liquidating the English liabilities. This prosperous state of things was suddenly checked by the appearance of a hostile Chilian fleet, which seized upon the fleet of the Confederation in the port of Callao, without any previous declaration of war, and by the landing of a Chilian expedition on the Intermedios, accompanied by a handful of Peruvians who were hostile to the Confederation. This expedition was soon subdued by the skill of General Santa Cruz, who exacted from it the treaty of Paucaupata, and then allowed free egress from the territory of the Confederation. This generosity on the part of the Protector was met by treachery on the part of Chili, directly her army was once more on Chilian ground. At this time the Government of Buenos Ayres made an unsuccessful attack upon the Confederation. The enemies without having been successfully repulsed, the prosperous condition of the Confederation continued, till General Orbegoso, one of the founders of the Confederation, rebelled, and enlisted the troops under his command in his Cause. This internal rebellion afforded a fresh and favorable opportunity for renewed hostility from without, and the result was that within a short space of time Chilian troops occupied Lima. On the appearance of General Santa Cruz, however, the foes were compelled to evacuate and re-embark. Defeated in this direction, the Chilian troops directed their course to the northern provinces, where Orbegoso's rebel band were collected. Gen. Santa Cruz, in the ardor of his determination to rid the territory of the Confederation from this treacherous foe, undertook a march of two hundred leagues, under the severity of which many of his troops sank, and the result of which was his defeat at Yungay, by the rebel forces. The defection of Generals Ballivian and Velasco, who commanded two powerful divisions of the army of the Confederation, made this disaster irretrievable. General Santa Cruz was obliged to retire to Guayaquil, whence he subsequently betook himself with his family to Europe. He has lately been accredited by his native country Minister Plenipotentiary in London and Paris.