The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 17, No. 492, June 4, 1831

ADA

(For the Mirror.)

She stood in the midst of that gorgeous throng,
Her praise was the theme of every tongue;
Warriors were there, whose glance of fire
Spoke to their foes of vengeance dire,
But they were enslaved by beauty's power,
And knelt at her shrine in that moonlit bower.
Sweet words were breathed in Ada's ear
By many a noble cavalier;
Maidens with fairy steps were there,
Who seemed to float on the ambient air,
But none in the mazy dance could move
Like Ada, the queen of this bower of love!
The moon in her silvery beauty shines
On this joyous throng through the lofty pines;
Lamps gleaming forth from every tree,
All was splendour and revelry;
Sweet perfumes were wafted by every breeze
From the flowering shrubs and the orange trees,
Mingling with sounds which were borne along
From the lover's lute and the minstrel's song;
Fair Ada's praise was the theme of all,
She was the queen of this festival.

She left the crowd and wandered on—
Where, oh where is the maiden gone?
She hears no longer the minstrel's lay,
The last sweet notes have died away,
Like the low, faint sound of maiden's sigh.
When the youth that she loves is standing by.

But where, oh where is Ada gone?
She is kneeling in a dungeon lone;
Her fillet of snowy pearls has now
Fall'n from its throne on her whiter brow,
And her fair, rich tresses, like floods of gold,
Gleam on the floor so damp and cold.
Her cheek is pale, but her eye of blue
Now wears a bright and more glorious hue;
It tells of a maiden's constancy,
Of her faith in the hour of adversity;
On a pallet of straw in that gloomy cell,
Is a captive knight whom she loves so well,
That she's left her joyous and splendid bower
To dwell with him in his dying hour,
To pillow his head on her breast of snow,
To kiss the dew from his pallid brow;
With smiles to chase the thoughts of gloom
Which darken his way to an early tomb,
To shed no tear, and to heave no sigh,
Though her heart is breaking in agony.

M.A.J

SPIRIT OF DISCOVERY

PITCAIRN'S ISLAND

The Quarterly Review (89) last published, is, indeed, a Reform Number; for all the papers, save one, relate to some species of reform or improvement.—Thus, we have papers on Captain Beechey's recent Voyage to co-operate with the Polar Expeditions—Population and Emigration—the notable Conspiration de Babeuf—the West India Question—and last, though not least, "the Bill" itself. We have endeavoured to adopt from the first paper, some particulars of a spot which bears high interest for every lover of adventure; the reviewer's observations connecting the extracts from Captain Beechey's large work.

His Majesty's Ship Blossom, Captain F.W. Beechey, sailed from England May 19, 1825, and having looked in at the usual stopping places, Teneriffe and Rio de Janeiro, proceeded round the Horn, and touched at Conception and Valparaiso, on the coast of Chili. In a few days the Blossom reached the Easter Island, of Cook. Her next visit was to Pitcairn's Island, which the reviewer thinks "the most interesting point in the whole voyage." We do not proceed in the outline, but "look in" at "the Island." To this spot, as the public have for some years been aware, the Mutineers of the Bounty carried that ship, after they had deprived Capt. Bligh of his command, and turned him adrift in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.[5 - Who does not recollect the delightful narrative published some years since by Mr. Mariner, in his account of the Tonga Islands; the poem of "the Island," by Lord Byron; and countless dramatic representations of this unhappy affair. We remember an affecting version about seven years since at Sadler's Wells Theatre: and only a few weeks since a few of its incidents were embodied in a melo-dramatic piece called "Neuha's Cave, or the South Sea Mutineers," at Covent Garden Theatre.]

In the end, only one white man, old Adams, remained alive of the mutineers who had landed. Of these, only one died a natural death; another was killed by accident; six were murdered; and but one remained to tell the tale.

After the greater number of the party had been murdered off, things went on pretty smoothly, till one M'Coy, who had been employed in a distillery in Scotland, tried an experiment with the tea-root, and succeeded in producing a bottle of ardent spirits. This induced one Quintal to 'alter his kettle into a still,' and the natural consequence ensued. Like the philosopher who destroyed himself with his own gunpowder, M'Coy, intoxicated to frenzy, threw himself from a cliff and was killed; and Quintal having lost his wife by accident, demanded the lady of one of his two remaining companions. This modest request being refused, he attempted to murder his countrymen; but they, having discovered his intention, agreed, that as Quintal was no longer a safe member of their community, the sooner he was put out of the way the better. Accordingly, they split his skull with an axe.

Adams and Young were now the sole survivors out of the fifteen males that landed upon the island. Young did not live long.

Adams was thus left the only Englishman on Pitcairn's Island. Being thoroughly tired of mutiny, bloodshed, and irreligion, and deeply sensible of the extent of his own guilt, he resolutely set about the only sound course of repentance, by exhibiting an amended life, and by training up in habits of virtue those helpless beings thrown upon his care for good or for evil.

He had an arduous task to perform. Besides the children to be educated, the Otaheitan women were to be converted; and as the example of the parents had a powerful influence over their children, he resolved to make them his first care. His labours succeeded; the Otaheitans were naturally of a tractable disposition, and gave him less trouble than he anticipated. The children also acquired such a thirst after scriptural knowledge, that Adams in a short time had little else to do than to answer their interrogatories, and put them in the right way. As they grew up, they acquired fixed habits of morality and piety; their colony improved, and intermarriages occurred; and they now form a happy and well-regulated society, the merit of which, in a great degree, belongs to Adams, and tends to redeem the errors of his former life.

The affection of these simple islanders for the venerable father of the colony is the best proof of the success which has attended his instructions; and it is really astonishing to observe how much has been accomplished by an illiterate seaman—strongly excited, indeed, and prompted to persevere in his course by motives which never err. When it was seen by these poor people that Adams did not immediately return from the Blossom (off the island), they took alarm, lest he should be detained; and one of their party, a recent settler, and a sea-faring man, having discovered the ship to be a vessel of war, their fears redoubled. When, at last, the old man landed, his daughter, Hannah, hurried to the beach to kiss her father's cheek, with a fervency demonstrative of the warmest affection.

It seems to have been a part of Adams's policy to make religious ceremonies an important part of their daily business, not merely an occasional duty. In describing a dinner scene, after stating that the knives and forks, though more abundant than he had expected to find in so remote a part of the world, were scarcely enough according to civilized notions, he goes on thus—

"The smoking pig, by a skilful dissection, was soon portioned to every guest, but no one ventured to put its excellent qualities to the test, until a lengthened Amen, pronounced by all the party, had succeeded an emphatic grace delivered by the village parson. 'Turn to' was then the signal for attack; and as it is convenient that all the party should finish their meal about the same time, in order that one grace might serve for all, each made the most of his time. In Pitcairn's Island it is not deemed proper to touch even a bit of bread without a grace before and after it; and a person is accused of inconsistency if he leaves off and begins again. So strict is their observance of this form, that we do not know of any instance in which it has been forgotten. On one occasion I had engaged Adams in conversation, and he incautiously took the first mouthful without having said his grace; but before he had swallowed it he recollected himself, and feeling as if he had committed a crime, immediately put away what he had in his mouth, and commenced his prayer."

The "village parson" above alluded to is thus described by Capt. Beechey:

"They have very fortunately found an able and willing master in John Buffet, who belonged to a ship which visited the island, and was so infatuated with their behaviour, being himself naturally of a devout and serious turn of mind, that he resolved to remain among them; and in addition to the instruction of the children, has taken upon himself the duty of clergyman, and is the oracle of the community."

Our gallant officers were not a little disappointed to find that the ladies were excluded from the table. Indeed the Pitcairn islanders appear to have adopted, though not in all its rigour, the South Sea prejudice against allowing a woman to eat in the presence of her husband. In some parts of the Archipelago this crime is punishable by death. The only thing like an argument by which the men defended this custom was, that as the male was made first, he ought on all occasions to be served first: a new reading of the saying "first come first served." The good-natured woman-kind of Pitcairn's Island, however, seemed far from considering themselves neglected or ill-used in this matter, for they remained behind the seats, flapping away the flies, and chatting with their guests.—The couches prepared for the strangers consisted of palm-leaves, covered with native cloth: the sheets were of the same material.

"The whole arrangement was extremely comfortable, and highly inviting to repose, which the freshness of the apartment, rendered cool by a free circulation of air through its sides, enabled us to enjoy without any annoyance from heat or insects. One interruption only disturbed our first sleep—it was the pleasing melody of the evening hymn, which, after the lights were put out, was chanted by the whole family in the middle of the room. In the morning also we were awoke by their morning hymn, and family devotion."

In speaking of the scenery of the island, Captain Beechey describes a singular spot set apart for himself by the ringleader of the mutiny.

"At the northern extremity of this ridge is a cave of some interest, as being the intended retreat of Christian, in the event of a landing being effected by any ship sent in pursuit of him, and where he resolved to sell his life as dearly as he could. In this recess he always kept a store of provisions, and near it erected a small hut, well concealed by trees, which served the purpose of a watch-house. So difficult was the approach to this cave, that even if the party were successful in crossing the ridge, as long as his ammunition lasted, he might have bid defiance to any force. An unfrequented and dangerous path leads from this place to a peak which commands a view of the western and southern coasts."

In the account given by Adams, it is stated that Christian was uniformly cheerful; but, as he was a man of education, and by no means without feeling, we must suppose that this serene aspect was the result of effort; and we can readily conceive the bitterness with which, on retiring to this cave, like a hunted wild-beast, he gave way to the deep sense of shame and unavailing remorse which must at all times have weighed on his mind.

The Pitcairn islanders are no great musicians, and sing all their songs to one air. Captain Beechey, with a laudable desire to improve and enlarge their taste in this matter, begged one of his officers, who played on the violin, to favour the natives with a tune; but though it was well executed, the new melody appeared to be wasted on the audience. None of them, he says, appeared to have the least ear for music.

One of the officers took considerable pains to teach them the 100th psalm, that they might not chant all their psalms and hymns to the same air, but they did not evince the least aptitude or desire to learn it.