The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 20, No. 581, December 15, 1832

THE PUBLIC JOURNALS

THE CITADEL OF ANTWERP

(From personal inspection, by a Contributor to the United Service Journal.)

This spot, on which the eye of all Europe is at present concentrated, lies at the southern extremity of Antwerp, and forms one continued line with its defences along the banks of the Scheldt. It is a regular pentagon in shape, protected by bastions ranging at progressive elevations, and connecting themselves with curtains of proportionate height. In advance of these defences are a further series of spacious bastions, immediately connected with the preceding, but of later construction. The one were erected by Paciotti and Cerbolini, two Italian engineers, by order of the tyrant Alba, 1568, and the others according to Vauban's principles in 1701. Every side of this citadel is equally formidable for its strength; that towards the town is furnished with a raveline; and this is also the case with the front which faces the river, and opens upon a paved line of road, from which all communication with Antwerp itself has latterly been cut off. Two of the sides of this fastness front towards the adjacent country, and are likewise supplied with ravelines; the centre bastion in this direction bears Paciotto's name, which has been denaturalized in that of Paniotto in the French elevations. The defences of the town terminate in the centre of the fifth side, which circumstance has left it unprovided with a raveline. On the summit (or capital) of the two bastions on the land side, two large lunettes have been thrown forward, one being called Fort Kiel, from the adjacent suburb, and the other, which stands more away from the town, Fort St. Laurent. Internally the citadel of Antwerp contains every provision for the safe housing of its defenders, and possesses more than the requisite accommodation under ground for its supplies. All the barracks, exposed to the enemy's fire, are so placed, that the strength of the garrison may be readily collected at the point endangered; the kind of defence to be brought into action is plain and obvious; and the matériel for standing a siege has been as liberally provided as the means of subsistence for preserving the morale of the besieged from being deteriorated. The garrison consists of picked troops, who place unlimited confidence in their commandant. The citadel is encompassed by a ditch, which has eighteen feet of water in every part of its circuit, and is protected by ramparts of adequate elevation, and strength in proportion. With such elements of defence as these its capture cannot be effected without a sacrifice of human lives, which none but the flint-hearted can contemplate or foresee without deprecation and horror.

In the year 1792, when it was carried by the revolutionary forces of France, they took the direction of the city walls as their line of attack, and mounted the bastion which bears Paciotto's name; this, at that time of day, formed indisputably the most advantageous point of assault; but its increased strength in this quarter would, at the present moment, render any attack an act of temerity. An esplanade of the average width of four hundred paces, which was laid out as a handsome promenade, before the bombardment in 1830, separates the citadel from the town: but the effect of that bombardment has been to throw a wide area of fifteen hundred paces open to the very marge of the Scheldt; and to disconnect the fortress still more completely from the inhabited portion of Antwerp. Lamentable as may be the prospect, Antwerp, the mistress of the finest naval station and commercial port in Europe, is doomed to destruction, if a single gun be directed against its citadel. It is not possible for its commandant, as a soldier and a subject, to avoid any and every means of annoying a besieger; and amongst these, none so ready and effectual, present themselves, as that of preventing the town from becoming the covert for an assailant. We have witnessed the deplorable havoc which a few mortars brought upon it in 1830; but how frightful will be the issue when rockets and red-hot shot come to be poured upon the devoted city. Nay, more,—by opening the dykes along the Scheldt, a large portion of the western provinces of Belgium is capable of being inundated; and if this fresh calamity ensue, as a second resource on the part of the besieged, from the adoption of which the recognised laws of warfare cannot absolve them, not only Antwerp will have ceased to exist, but her citadel will rear its head, a frowning islet, amidst a waste of waters. As to the blockade of the Scheldt, it will be impotent with regard to distressing the citadel; for the windings of that stream, as well as of the Maas, at their mouths, preclude the possibility of effectually staying the Dutch from communication with it.

THE PLAINT OF CERTAIN CORAL BEADS

Spoiler of forbidden wealth,
Guarded by the hoary waves!
When we mourn thy cruel stealth,
Sorrowing for our quiet caves.
Doth it calm our wistful pining
That the chains we hate are shining?
Boast we beauty's gauds to be?
Can the state such bondage shares,
Thoughtless liking, loveless cares,
Sudden angers, wilful airs,
Sooth us like the mighty sea?

Though, in hours when suitors press
Near the shrine of star-bright eyes,
Mysteries, some would die to guess,
Our familiar touch descries;
When a startled throb or tremble,
Woman's craft would fain dissemble,
Through our light embraces swells;—
Fruitless secrets—vainly taught,—
Bliss unheeded—trust unsought—
Can they quench the constant thought
Of our dreamy ocean-cells?

Though the glowing bands we form,
Oft by redder lips be pressed,
And a slumber, soft and warm,
Fold us on a dove-like breast,—
Not to love, but love's bestowing
Gentle care and kiss are owing:—
Is the passion changed or cloyed,
Doth the giver's light grow less?
Banished from the sweet recess,
Sportive pressure, fond caress,
See our mimic worth destroyed!

Then in close and narrow keep,
Pent, with scorned and faded toys,
Mourn we for the glassy deep,
Sigh we for our early joys!
What has earth like ocean's treasures?
More than craving avarice measures,
More than Fancy's dream enchants,
Deck the booming caves below,
Where green waters ever flow
Under groves of pearl, that grow
In the mermaid's glimmering haunts.

Under spar-enchased bowers,
Bending on their twisted stems,
Glow the myriad ocean-flowers,
Fadeless—rich as orient gems.
Hung with seaweed's tasselled fringes,
Dyed with all the rainbow's tinges,
Rise the Triton's palace walls.
Pallid silver's wandering veins
Stream, like frostwork, o'er the stains;
Pavements thick, with golden grains,
Twinkle through their crystal halls.

And a music wild and low
Ever, o'er the curved shells,
Wanders with a fitful flow
As the billow sinks or swells.
Now, to faintest whispers hushing,
Now, in louder cadence gushing,
Wakens from their pleasant sleep
All the tuneful Nereid-throng,
Till their notes of wreathed song
Float in magic streams along,
Chanting joyaunce through the deep.

Chance or change,—the clouds of time—
Sorrow,—winter storm, or blight,
Comes not near our peaceful clime;
Nor the strife of day with night.
Death, who walks the earth in riot,
Stirs not our primeval quiet:
Scarce his distant rage we know
From the dreary things of clay,
Slain, alas! in ocean's play,
Whom the sea-maids shroud and lay
In the silent caves below.

Fond! to deem we count it pride
Thus to deck the fair of earth!
We, whose beauty-peopled tide