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SHIPWRECKS AND DISASTERS AT SEA.

(Continued from page 9.)

[THE second volume contains the following narrative of mixed atrocity and suffering.] Abandonment of Madame Dunoyer, in an

open boat, by pirates, 1766.

It was in the year 1766, that M. Dunoyer, an inhabitant of Cape François, in the French part of St. Domingo, went to Samona on the Spanish side of the island, for the purpose of forming a residence at that place. He had been there about a year, when Madame Dunoyer wished her husband to return to Cape François, the air of which being that of her native place, she thought would prove favourable to her health, which was then delicate. They accordingly embarked in a small vessel belonging to M. Dunoyer, with one infant at the breast and another about seven years old. A negress, their domestic servant, called Catharine, accompanied them. Just as they were about to set sail, an English bark was shipwrecked on the coast hard by, but the crew were saved. There happened at that time to be a French vessel at Samona about to sail, and eight of the shipwrecked party prevailed upon the commander, named Verrier, to receive and land them either at Cape François or Monte-Christo. But still thinking they were too many to afford a passage without incommoding himself, Verrier asked M. Dunoyer to take two in his little vessel. One called himself Captain John; the other was named Young. M. Dunoyer received them, gave them necessaries, even linen, they promising, on the other hand, to help him during the passage to the utmost of their power.

It was in the beginning of March that everything was ready for sea. M. Dunoyer first discharged two Frenchmen whom he had engaged to work the vessel, because the two Englishmen offered their services for the purpose, and were good sailors. They accordingly set sail, but came to an anchor in the evening at a place called Grigri, about a league from Porto Plata, on the north side of St. Domingo. Supper was got ready near the land, not far from a Spanish dwelling where people customarily stopped to get refreshments. After supper, the stern, which was shaded with palm leaves, was divided by a sail across it from the rest of the bark. Behind it a mattress was placed for Madame Dunoyer, her children, and the negress. The two sailors lay down in the bow of the bark. M. Dunoyer slept upon a mattress which lay at the feet of his wife.

All was still before the midnight hour, when one of the children began to cry. M. Dunoyer handed aft some milk which was carried for the purpose of feeding it, and all

was again hushed as at first. Between the hours of three and four, Madame Dunoyer was awakened by a kind of dull blow which seemed to be struck with a hammer or hatthought she heard him heave a sigh. Frightchet upon her husband's mattress, and she ened, trembling, and anticipating the truth, she awoke the negress by crying "Oh God, they are killing M. Dunoyer!" She lifted the sail or curtain at her feet between her husband's mattress and her own, when the man called John came to her bed, and with ferocious air lifting the hatchet, threatened to kill her if she gave the least alarm. He then struck her husband two blows more with the hatchet. Young took the tiller, and John loosened the sail, as they said, for New York. At daybreak the bark was two leagues from land, and Madame Dunoyer, who had scarcely strength to rise from the awning, saw cast over the side of the bark and floating on the sea, the mattress on which the bleeding body of her husband had just been extended. The man called John said to the affrighted wife, "Don't be alarmed-your husband sleeps well." He then came to her, and demanded the keys of the boxes and trunks and her husband's arms, which she immediately gave up. He searched through every package, but found no money. With eyes drenched in tears, she asked why the wretch had the barbarity to kill her husband; for that he had no money in the vessel. The murderer replied it was to get possession of the vessel to take them to New York.

Seeing there was no money, the assassin became milder in his manner, and offered the unfortunate lady food, tea, and chocolate. She refused his offer, upon which they told her not to vex herself or be unhappy; that they would do her no injury, but disembark her, on the contrary, with all her baggage, upon the French territory. The rest of the day they said nothing, but left this unfortunate woman to her fears and lamentations.

Night now approached; repose was not to be expected in so dreadful a situation, being in the power of the murderers of her husband. She wept all night over her children. She thought of their father and of her own situation. Her husband's image was ever before her eyes; and hour after hour passed away in bitter suffering.

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design could have been effectually completed.

In the morning they were making rapid way, when Madame Dunoyer again asked if they intended to carry her to New York. They replied, if she wished to go to Cape François, one of them would take her, together with the children and negress, in the boat. The horror of her situation with the murderers of her husband made her accept any alternative, for what doom was not preferable to remaining on board the bark! She did not recollect that the boat was small, and not calculated to resist the waves of the open sea. It was, in fact, a canoe hollowed out of a single tree, such as is used by the American Indians. On stating her determination to go at any risk, they told her to make up a packet of her linen, or what she most wished to take, as there was no room to stow away her trunks. They put an old paliasse in the bottom of the canoe, four biscuit cakes, a bottle containing a few pints of fresh water, six eggs, a little salt pork, and a kettle. The man John placed the two children and negress in the canoe first, and then searched the pockets of Madame Dunoyer, in which he found her husband's shoe and collar buckles of silver which she happened to have in her possession. These he took away, as well as the packet of linen she had made up to take in the canoe, and compelled her to follow the negress and children. She expected one of the men would have gone with them to guide the canoe. Instead of this they cast it loose, hoisted every sail, and in no great while were out of sight.

This unfortunate lady was then left with her children and servant by these pirates, for such no doubt they were, to float whither the waves would carry them. Nothing but sky and water was in view, no land could be seen. As the bark quitted them, she prayed in vain for help, even from the assassins of her husband, but she implored in vain. There was nevertheless a more powerful protection extended over her and her little ones. The Eye that never slumbers nor sleeps watched them in their hour of desolation, and they did not perish. The consternation of Madame Dunoyer imagination cannot paint. The

thought of her children, one an helpless infant, almost reduced her to utter despair. Her kind servant, or "slave" according to common parlance, tried to revive and console her mistress. All the little aid she could give-all the humble efforts she could make, she exerted to sustain and comfort her. Madame Dunoyer had swooned away at one time; the kind creature laboured to restore her, and succeeded, but Madame Dunoyer only became conscious of existence to deplore afresh the horrors of their unhappy situation, She fancied her children the prey of the shark, she pressed them to her bosom and

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bathed them in tears, and every look she gave she imagined was the last she should ever bestow upon the faces of the innocents, unconscious of the magnitude of the dangers that menaced them. At length she attained sufficient composure to deliver herself and children over to the care of heaven, and to leave all besides to the waves and to the conduct of the negress, who endeavoured to manage the canoe without knowing how their course lay. Night came on, and dark and fearful hours were to be passed. The danger of upsetting was augmented by the rising of the wind. The waves were swollen, and one of them entering the canoe carried away their biscuit and water, leaving them in dread of another which should overwhelm them entirely. Fortunately the negress could steer well enough not to hasten such a catastrophe by any ill-management. The hours of night seemed as if they would never pass away.

The

The day broke over a calm ocean, but this was all that appeared to afford them consolation. They knew not where to steer, had they been able to sail; no land was yet in sight. Their hope that some vessel might pick them up was past. Madame Dunoyer could only pray and implore the aid of the Protector of the widow and fatherless. Seven days and nights did these unfortunate females pass in a similar manner, exposed to the atmosphere, and without any food but the salt pork. Nearly worn out, Madame Dunoyer every moment expected to succumb. The power of women to endure bodily suffering is far beyond that of the other sex. rigid tendons of man snap asunder quickly, while the more flexible fibres of women do not break until they have been attenuated to the utmost. The thought of her children being left in so deplorable a state was worse to Madame Dunoyer than death. She saw that they must soon perish, and proposed opening a vein to prolong the life of the infant at her breast, because the maternal stream had ceased to yield it the wonted supply. About this critical time a vessel was seen at a distance by the negress. Anxiously did they watch its approach and make all the signals in their power when it was within view. They were at last seen; the vessel made for the canoe, but a new danger arose from the sea's recoiling off the ship and nearly sinking the shallow canoe as it came alongside. The people on board were aware of the hazard they ran, and by good manage ment got them all on board safely. The ship was bound to New Orleans, and Madame Dunoyer happened fortunately to have a relation there, M. Rougeot, a notary by profession, who received her and her fatherless children with great kindness, arisen as they were almost from the tomb.

The inhabitants of Louisiana, which was

then a French colony, generously raised a sum of money for the use of Madame Dunoyer and her children. The first thing she did was to make her relation the notary give freedom to the negress her companion in misfortune, but the faithful creature would not leave her mistress while she lived.

A deposition of the facts relating to the murder of M. Dunoyer was made at New Orleans, and transmitted to New York in the hope of bringing the assassins to justice. No such persons could be discovered there, nor is it probable they intended proceeding thither, when, from their own statement, they might be traced, if a vessel should have chanced to pick up the canoe; though it is as likely they calculated on its perishing with all the witnesses of their crime. However this might have been, nothing more was ever heard of the murderers.

The Gatherer.

Life of an Editor.-There is no labour more destructive to health than that of periodical literature, and in no species of mental application, or even of manual employment, is the wear and tear of mind and body so early and so severely felt. The readers of those light articles which appear to cost so little labour in the various literary publica tions of the day, are little aware how many constitutions are broken down in the service of their literary taste.--Infirmities of Genius; by R. F. Madden, Esq.

Parry, the friend of Lord Byron.-With feelings of regret, we have to state that this unfortunate gentleman, whose goodness of heart and straightforward conduct Byron was wont to speak of in the highest terms, is now the inmate of a lunatic asylum. A long series of misfortunes, the cause or consequence, we know not which, of intemperate habits, had "steeped him in poverty to the very lips," and ultimately deprived him of reason. A friend of ours, who had known him in better days, when lately visiting the wards of Bedlam, heard his name pronounced as he passed one of the cells, and when he turned to the speaker, and tried to recognise his features, the wretched man exclaimed, "Do you forget poor Parry!" If this note should fall under the eye of any friend of Byron, who would willingly do that, which, if Byron were within the influence of earthly feeling, could not fail to be pleasing to his spirit, he may probably be induced to inquire into the fate of this poor gentleman, and have the charity, if it be practicable, to relieve his misery.--Ibid.

Good Retort to Fanatical Insolence.Albert Pio, (once Prince of Carpi, afterwards an author, and ultimately a fanatic,) entering one of the churches at Madrid, presented

holy water to a lady, who had a very thin hand, ornamented with a valuable ring. He exclaimed in a loud voice, as she reached the water, "Madam, I admire the ring more than the hand." The lady instantly replied, with reference to the cordon with which he was decorated," And for my part, I admire the halter more than I do the ass!" FERNANDO.

Fish-hooks.-Mr. Ellis, in his Narrative of a Tour through Hawaii, states that the natives told him why they stole Captain Cook's boat was, because they saw it was not sewed together, but fastened with nails, which they wanted to make fish-hooks of; and so anxious were they to obtain a large supply of nails, that the Society Islanders actually, whilst he was there, planted them in the ground, thinking they would grow, like potatoes or other vegetables; and such is the value set on them, that the fishermen would rather receive a wrought nail to make a fishhook of it according to his own taste, than the best English made hook that could be I. E. I. given them.

Unlucky Pause.-A country actor performing the part of Richmond, in the tragedy of Richard the Third, had the misfortune to find his memory completely fail, when he had

reached the words: "Thus far into the bowels of the land have we marched on without impediment." After having repeated these words several times, the audience testified their displeasure by a general hiss,—when, coming forward, he thus addressed them: "Ladies and gentlemen, thus far into the bowels of the land have we marched on without impediment, and hang me if we can get any farther." FERNANDO.

Cold Beauties.-Theodore Hook makes one of his characters observe: "I never give credit to those icicles for anything but shyness, and a notion that it looks fine to be prudish, and well-bred to be disagreeable."

Love at first Sight-has often been a subject of ridicule amongst slow-going people; but, nevertheless, it has frequently turned out to be both serious and lasting.-Parson's Daughter.

It is an old remark, that no man ever looked on, at a game of chance or skill, played by two people, both previously unknown to him, without, in less than five minutes, feeling an interest for the success of one of them, over the other.-Ibid.

A female friend will contribute more to a lover's success in a month than all his own labour and pains in a year without her.-16.

Printed and published by J. LIMBIRD, 143, Strand, (near Somerset House,) London. Sold by G. G. BENNIS, 55, Rue Neuve, St. Augustin, Paris ; CHARLES JUGEL, Francfort; and by all News men and Booksellers.

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ST. SAVIOUR'S CHURCH, SOUTHWARK. IN magnitude and architectural character, this edifice has been decided, by a competent authority, to rank as the third church in the metropolis. It has always been an object of great interest to the antiquary and the architect; and, in our humble sphere of chronicling the relics of old London, we have not passed over its history and illustration. In one of our early volumest will be found a few historical particulars of the church,-yet so brief, as not to induce us to forego the pre

Mr. E. W. Brayley, F.S.A., &c.
+ See Mirror, vol. v. p. 343.
VOL. XXII.
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sent opportunity of giving a more detailed description of this noble structure. From our boyhood we have taken an unusual interest in its history; and many are the changes which our brief memory can recall in destruction and decay, renovation and repair. Our little feet have pattered up its broad aisle with each returning Sabbath;-there were first imprinted on our mind the blessed truths of holy writ. Its stupendous organ, with its billows of sound, its solemn clock, its joyous peal of bells, and its deep-toned knells, are familiar to our ears; as are its "high em..

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bowed" roof, clustering columns, and lengthening nave and choir, its gigantic clock-face, and battlemented and pinnacled tower, to our eyes. In short, our childhood was passed within a few poles of this venerable structure: how could we then be insensible to early impressions of its magnificence?

The history of the site of this church can be traced, with little difficulty, through eight hundred years. Previous to the Conquest, there appears to have been a religious house on or near the site, known by the name of St. Mary Overy; for, in Domesday Book, we find mention of a "monasterium" hereabout; upon which Tanner observes, "if monasterium here denotes anything more than an ordinary church, it may be thought to mean this religious house, there being no pretence for any other in this borough to claim to be as old as the Confessor's time, or, indeed, as the making of the Domesday Book, A.D. 1083."* The foundation was doubtless restored for canons regular, by William Pont de l'Arche and William Dauncey, two Norman knights-probably assisted by Bishop Giffard, when, in 1107, he obtained the quiet possession of this see; to whose time may be referred the nave of the church, the architecture of which corroborates the date above cited. †

In the 14th of John, 1213, the priory was nearly destroyed by a fire, which also con sumed a large portion of the borough of Southwark. It was not until many years afterwards re-built by Peter de Rupibus, Bishop of Winchester, who also founded, and perhaps erected, the spacious chapel there dedicated to St. Mary Magdalen, afterwards the parish church for the inhabitants of the vicinity.

The repairs and additions which the structure received subsequent to the reign of Edward I. did not much alter its appearance; for, in that monarch's reign, the poverty and decayed state of the church and monastery were very great.

In the reign of Richard II. this house was again much damaged, and again repaired, and partly rebuilt in that and the subsequent reign. To these repairs, the poet Gower

*Stow relates that the monks of St. Mary Overy were the builders of the original London Bridge, Some time, we think, in the year 1827, on a week-day visit to the church, we found Mr. Gwilt and his eldest son enthusiastically inspecting a doorway with Saxon mouldings, which they had uncased from brickwork, in the north aisle of the nave. "The archivolt mouldings are very bold, and are enriched with the chevron, or zig-zag ornament, as well as by some elegant leaves deeply undercut: these mould ings spring from the capitals of three slender cylindrical columns, attached to each jamb." We may here mention, that until this discovery, the only relics of Bishop Giffard's church were a few capitals: "in taking down some portions of the transept, in 1830, several fragments of Norman workmanship were taken out of the walls, in which they had been used as rubble."-Brayley.

was a great, if not the sole, contributor. He lies entombed here; and it is certain that he founded a chantry here in the chapel of St. John, now the vestry-room. Though there be no historical evidence to prove that the church was nearly rebuilt after the lastmentioned accident, it is clear that at least very extensive reparations were made, inasmuch as a considerable portion of the building is of the style in use in the earliest part of the reign of Henry III.

In 1469, 9. Edw. IV., the vaulting of the nave fell in. It was reinstated with a timber roof, which is supposed, with some authority, to have been put up by Bishop Fox, who is also stated to have made considerable improvements at the altar.

At the Dissolution, the priory was surrendered to Henry VIII. In the same year, the church of St. Margaret, (at St. Margaret's Hill,) was pulled down, and the parish incorporated, by royal privilege, with St. Saviour's; the king at the same time granting to the churchwardens, for a small sum, the collegiate church of St. Mary Overy, or St. Saviour's, now the parish church of the district. The church, as it then stood, was built in the cathedral form, that of a cross, the superstructure showing a nave, transepts, choir, and Lady Chapel, with a small chapel, the Bishop's, attached; the chapel of St. John, on the north side; and the Magdalen chapel, on the south. From the centre rose a lofty embattled tower, with pinnacles at the angles. From this period to the commencement of the present century, the dese cration and defacement of the church by repairs may be said to have extended. The corporation let the Lady Chapel to a baker, who used it as a bakehouse, and partly for hog-sties. In 1618, the fine, uninterrupted perspective of the nave and choir was destroyed, by an organ-screen set up at the west end of the choir, in place of the ancient rood-loft. In the years 1621 and 1622, the greater part of the west front and north side was coated with brick. In 1624, the Lady Chapel was restored and newly paved. In 1689, the tower was repaired and restored, and the pinnacles were rebuilt. In 1703, the old altar-screen, a beautiful specimen of pointed work, was encased with oaken columns, painted Commandment and other tables, whole-length portraits of Moses and Aaron, volant cherubim, &c.; the ancient and more appropriate stalls were removed, and the pewing erected; and thus the cathedral character of the church was already destroyed.§

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The church was now neglected until the For an Engraving of his Tomb, see Mirror, vol. xiii. p. 225.

About this time, the embattled parapets of the nave and south aisle, which appear in Hollar's view of this church, were removed. From the tower, by the way, Hollar drew his celebrated View of London.

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