New Beoks.

was again hushed as at first. Between the

hours of three and four, Madame Dunoyer SHIPWRECKS AND DISASTERS AT SEA. was awakened by a kind of dull blow which

seemed to be struck with a hammer or hat. (Continued from page 9.) [The second volume contains the following thought she heard him heave a sigh. Fright

chet upon her husband's mattress, and she narrative of mixed atrocity and suffering. ]

ened, trembling, and anticipating the truth, Abandonment of Madame Dunoyer, in an she awoke the negress by crying “Oh God, open boat, by pirates, 1766.

they are killing M. Dunoyer !" She lifted It was in the year 1766, that M. Dunoyer, the sail or curtain at her feet between her an inhabitant of Cape François, in the French husband's mattress and her own, when the part of St. Domingo, went to Samona on the man called John came to her bed, and with Spanish side of the island, for the purpose ferocious air lifting the hatchet, threatened of forming a residence at that place. He to kill her if she gave the least alarm. He had been there about a year, when Madame then struck her husband two blows more Dunoyer wished her husband to return to with the hatchet. Young took the tiller, Cape François, the air of which being that and John loosened the sail, as they said, for of her native place, she thought would prove New York. At daybreak the bark was two favourable to her health, which was then leagues from land, and Madame Dunoyer, delicate. They accordingly embarked in a who had scarcely strength to rise from the small vessel belonging to M. Dunoyer, with awning, saw cast over the side of the bark one infant at the breast and another about and floating on the sea, the mattress on seven years old. A negress, their domestic which the bleeding body of her husband had servant, called Catharine, accompanied them. just been extended. The man called John Just as they were about to set sail, an Eng, said to the affrighted wife, “ Don't be alarmlish bark was shipwrecked on the coast hard ed—your husband sleeps well.” He then by, but the crew were saved. There hap- came to her, and demanded the keys of the pened at that time to be a French vessel at boxes and trunks and her husband's arms, Samona about to sail, and eight of the ship which she immediately gave up. He searched wrecked party prevailed upon the commander, through every package, but found no money. named Verrier, to receive and land them With eyes drenched in tears, she asked why either at Cape François or Monte-Christo. the wretch had the barbarity to kill her husBut still thinking they were too many to band; for that he had no money in the afford a passage without incommoding him- vessel. The murderer replied it was to get self, Verrier asked M. Dunoyer to take two possession of the vessel to take them to New in his little vessel. One called himself York. Captain John; the other was named Young. Seeing there was no money, the assassin M. Dunoyer received them, gave them neces- became milder in his manner, and offered saries, even linen, they promising, on the the unfortunate lady food, tea, and chocolate. other hand, to help him during the passage She refused his offer, upon which they told to the utmost of their power.

her not to vex herself or be unhappy; that It was in the beginning of March that they would do her no injury, but disembark everything was ready for sea. M. Dunoyer her, on the contrary, with all her baggage, first discharged two Frenchmen whom he upon the French territory. The rest of the had engaged to work the vessel, because the day they said nothing, but left this unfortutwo Englishmen offered their services for nate woman to her fears and lamentations. the purpose, and were good sailors. They Night now approached ; repose was not to accordingly set sail, but came to an anchor be expected in so dreadful a situation, being in the evening at a place called Grigri, about in the power of the murderers of her husband. a league from Porto Plata, on the north side She wept all night over her children. She of St. Domingo. Supper was got ready near thought of their father and of her own situathe land, not far from a Spanish dwelling tion." Her husband's image was ever before where people customarily stopped to get her eyes; and hour after hour passed away refreshments. After supper, the stern, which in bitter suffering. was shaded with palm leaves, was divided by a sail across it from the rest of the bark. Having lashed the helm and set the mainBehind it a mattress was placed for Madame sail, they lay down. The negress proposed Dunoyer, her children, and the negress. The putting out their eyes with a nail as they two sailors lay down in the bow of the bark. slept, but she thought they were not both M. Dunoyer slept upon a mattress which really asleep, and this hindered her making lay at the feet of his wife.

an attempt that must have been fatal both to All was still before the midnight hour, her mistress and herself. It is difficult to when one of the children began to cry. M. imagine, unless she had four hands to use Dunoyer handed aft some milk which was at once, how she could have prevented one carried for the purpose of feeding it, and all of them from taking the alarm before such a







design could have been effectually com- bathed them in tears, and every look she pleted.

gave she imagined was the last she should In the morning they were making rapid ever bestow upon the faces of the innocents, way, when Madame Dunoyer again asked if unconscious of the magnitude of the dangers they intended to carry her to New York. that menaced them. At length she attained They replied, if she wished to go to Cape sufficient composure to deliver herself and François, one of them would take her, toge- children over to the care of heaven, and to ther with the children and negress, in the leave all besides to the waves and to the boat. The horror of her situation with the conduct of the negress, who endeavoured to murderers of her husband made her accept manage the canoe without knowing how any alternative, for what doom was not pre- their course lay. Night came on, and dark ferable to remaining on board the bark! She and fearful hours were to be passed. The did not recollect that the boat was small, and danger of upsetting was augmented by the not calculated to resist the waves of the open rising of the wind. The waves were swollen,

It was, in fact, a canoe hollowed out and one of them entering the canoe carried of a single tree, such as is used by the Ame- away their biscuit and water, leaving them rican Indians. On stating her determination in dread another which should overwhelm to at any risk, they told her to make up a them entirely. Fortunately the negress could packet of her linen, or what she most wished steer well enough not to hasten such a catasto take, as there was no room to stow away trophe by any ill-management. The hours her trunks. They put an old paliasse in the of night seemed as if they would never pass bottom of the canoe, four biscuit cakes, a away bɔttle containing a few pints of fresh water, The day broke over a calm ocean, but this six eggs, a little salt pork, and a kettle. The was all that appeared to afford them consoman John placed the two children and ne- lation. They knew not where to steer, had gress in the canoe first, and then searched they been able to sail; no land was yet in the pockets of Madame Dunoyer, in which sight. Their hope that some vessel might he found her husband's shoe and collar pick them up was past. Madame Dunoyer buckles of silver which she happened to have could only pray and implore the aid of the in her possession. These he took away, as Protector of the widow and fatherless. Seven well as the packet of linen she had made up days and nights did these unfortunate females to take in the canoe, and compelled her to pass in a similar manner, exposed to the follow the negress and children. She ex- atmosphere, and without any food but the pected one of the men would have gone with salt pork. Nearly worn out, Madame Duthem to guide the canoe. Instead of this noyer every moment expected to succumb. they cast it loose, hoisted every sail, and in The power of women to endure bodily sufferno great while were out of sight.

ing is far beyond that of the other sex. The This unfortunate lady was then left with rigid tendons of man snap asunder quickly, her children and servant by these pirates, for while the more flexible fibres of women do such no doubt they were, to float whither the not break until

they have been attenuated to waves would carry them. Nothing but sky the utmost. The thought of her children and water was in view, no land could be being left in so deplorable a state was worse

As the bark quitted them, she prayed to Madame Dunoyer than death. She saw in vain for help, even from the assassins of that they must soon perish, and proposed her husband, but she implored in vain. There opening a vein to prolong the life of the was nevertheless a more powerful protection infant at her breast, because the maternal extended over her and her little ones. The stream had ceased to yield it the wonted Eye that never slumbers nor sleeps watched supply. About this critical time a vessel them in their hour of desolation, and they was seen at a distance by the negress. Andid not perish. The consternation of Madame xiously did they watch its approach and make Dunoyer imagination cannot paint. The all the signals in their power when it was thought of her children, one an helpless within view. They were at last seen; the infant, almost reduced her to utter despair. vessel made for the canoe, but a new danger Her kind servant, or " slave” according to arose from the sea's recoiling off the ship and common parlance, tried to revive and console nearly sinking the shallow canoe as it came her mistress. All the little aid she could alongside. The people on board were aware give-- all the humble efforts she could make, of the hazard they ran, and by good manageshe exerted to sustain and comfort her. ment got them all on board safely. The ship Madame Dunoyer had swooned away at one was bound to New Orleans, and Madame time; the kind creature laboured to restore Dunoyer happened fortunately to have a her, and succeeded, but Madame Dunoyer relation there, M. Rougeot, a notary by proonly became conscious of existence to deplore fession, who received her and her fatherless afresh the horrors of their unhappy situation, children with great kindness, arisen as they She fancied her children the prey of the were almost from the tomb. shark, she pressed them to her bosom and The inhabitants of Louisiana, which was


then a French colony, generously raised a holy water to a lady, who had a very thin sum of money for the use of Madame Duno- hand, ornamented with a valuable ring. He yer and her children. The first thing she exclaimed in a loud voice, as she reached did was to make her relation the notary give the water, “ Madam, I admire the ring more freedoin to the negress her compauion in than the hand.” The lady instantly replied, misfortune, but the faithful creature would with reference to the cordon with which he not leave her mistress while she lived.

was decorated, “ And for my part, I admire A deposition of the facts relating to the the halter more than I do the ass !” murder of M. Dunoyer was made at New

FERNANDO. Orleans, and transmitted to New York in the

Fish-hodks. Mr. Ellis, in his Narrative hope of bringing the assassins to justice. of a Tour through Hawaii

, states that the No such persons could be discovered there, natives told him why they stole Captain nor is it probable they intended proceeding Cook's boat was, because they saw it was thither, when, from their own statement, they not sewed together, but fastened with nails, might be traced, if a vessel should have which they wanted to make fish-hooks of; chanced to pick up the canoe; though it is and so anxious were they to obtain a large as likely they calculated on its perishing supply of nails, that the Society Islanders with all the witnesses of their crime. How

actually, whilst he was there, planted them in ever this might have been, nothing more was the ground, thinking they would grow,

like ever heard of the murderers.

potatoes or other vegetables; and such is the

value set on them, that the fishermen would The Gatherer.

rather receive a wrought nail to make a fish

hook of it according to his own taste, than Life of an Editor.— There is no labour the best English made hook that could be more destructive to health than that of perio- given them.

I. E. I. dical literature, and in no species of mental

Unlucky Pause.-A country actor performapplication, or even of manual employment, ing the part of Richmond, in the tragedy of is the wear and tear of mind and body so

Richard the Third, had the misfortune to early and so severely felt. The readers of find his memory completely fail

, when he had those light articles which appear to cost so reached the words: “ Thus far into the bowels little labour in the various literary publica. of the land have we marched on without tions of the day, are little aware how many impediment.” After having repeated these constitutions are broken down in the service words several times, the audience testified of their literary taste.--Infirmities of Genius ; their displeasure by a general hiss, -when, by R. F. Madden, Esq.

coming forward, he thus addressed them: Parry, the friend of Lord Byron.-With “ Ladies and gentlemen, thus far into the feelings of regret, we have to state that this bowels of the land have we marched oa unfortunate gentleman, whose goodness of without impediment, and hang me if we can heart and straightforward conduct Byron get any farther.”

FERNANDO. was wont to speak of in the highest terms, is Cold Beauties.-Theodore Hook makes now the inmate of a lunatic asylum. A long one of his characters observe : “ I never give series of misfortunes, the cause or conse- credit to those icicles for anything but shyquence, we know not which, of intemperate ness, and a notion that it looks fine to be habits

, had “steeped him in poverty to the prudish, and well-bred to be disagreeable.” very lips,” and ultimately deprived him of

A friend of ours, who had known Love at first Sight-has often been a subhim in better days, when lately visiting the ject of ridicule amongst slow-going people ; wards of Bedlam, heard his name pronounced but, nevertheless, it has frequently turned as he passed one of the cells, and when he out to be both serious and lasting.- Parson's turned to the speaker, and tried to recognise Daughter. his features, the wretched man exclaimed, It is an old remark, that no man ever “Do you forget poor Parry!" If this note looked on, at a game of chance or skill, should fall under the eye of any friend of played by two people, both previously unByron, who would willingly do that, which, known tó him, without, in less than five if Byron were within the influence of earthly minutes, feeling an interest for the success feeling, could not fail to be pleasing to his of one of them. over the other.— lbid. spirit, he may probably be induced to inquire A female friend will contribute more to a into the fate of this poor gentleman, and lover's success in a month than all his own have the charity, if it be practicable, to re- labour and pains in a

without her.-16. lieve his misery --Ibid.

Good Retort to Fanatical Insolence.- Printed and published by J. LIMBIRD, 143, Strand, Albert Pio, (once Prince of Carpi, afterwards (neur Somerset House, London. Sold by G. G. an author, and ultimately a fanatic,) entering CHARLES JUGEL, Francfort ; and by all News

BENNIS, 55, Rue Neuve, St. Augustin, Paris; one of the churches at Madrid, presented men and Bouksellers.


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SATURDAY, JULY 20, 1833.

No. 615.)

(Price 2d.

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ST. SAVIOUR’S CHURCH, SOUTHWARK. In magnitude and architectural character, sent opportunity of giving a more detailed this edifice has been decided, by a competent description of this noble structure. From authority,* to rank as the third church in the our boyhood we have taken an unusual intemetropolis. It has always been an object of rest in its history; and many are the changes great interest to the antiquary and the archi- which our brief memory can recall iņ destructect; and, in our humble sphere of chro- tion and decay, renovation and repair. Our nicling the relics of old London, we have not little feet have pattered up its broad aisle passed over its history and illustration. In with each returning Sabbath ;—there were one of our early volumes † will be found a first imprinted on our mind the blessed truths few historical particulars of the church,—yet of holy writ. Its stupendous organ, with its so brief, as not to induce us to forego the pre- billows of sound, its solemn clock, its joyous • Mr. E. W. Brayley, F.S.A., &c.

peal of bells, and its deep-toned knells, are + See Mirror, vol. v, p. 343.

familiar to our ears; as are its “high em.. VOL. XXII. D


bowed” roof, clustering columns, and length- was a great, if not the sole, contributor. He ening naye and choir, its gigantic clock-face, lies entombed here ; ; and it is certain that and battlemented and pinnacled tower, to our he founded a chantry here in the chapel of eyes. In short, our childhood was passed St. John, now the vestry - room. Though within a few poles of this venerable structure: there be no historical evidence to prove that how could we then be insensible to early im- the church was nearly rebuilt after the lastpressions of its magnificence?

mentioned accident, it is clear that at least The history of the site of this church can very extensive reparations were made, inasbe traced, with little difficulty, through eight much as a considerable portion of the buildhundred years. Previous to the Conquest, ing is of the style in use in the earliest part there appears to have been a religious house of the reign of Henry III. on or near the site, known by the name of In 1469, 9. Edw. IV., the vaulting of the St. Mary Overy; for, in Domesday Book, we nave fell in. It was reinstated with a timber find mention of a monasterium” hereabout; roof, which is supposed, with some authority, upon which Tanner observes, “if monaste- to have been put up by Bishop Fox, who is rium here denotes anything more than an also stated to have made considerable imordinary church, it may be thought to mean provements at the altar. this religious house, there being no pretence At the Dissolution, the priory was surren. for any other in this borough to claim to be dered to Henry VIII. In the same year, as old as the Confessor's time, or, indeed, as the church of St. Margaret, (at St. Margaret's the making of the Domesday Book, A.D. Hill,) was pulled down, and the parish incor1083."* The foundation was doubtless re- porated, by royal privilege, with St. Saviour's; stored for canons regular, by William Pont the king at the same time granting to the de l'Arche and William Dauncey, two Nor- churchwardens, for a small sum, the colman knights-probably assisted by Bishop legiate church of St. Mary Overy, or St. Giffard, when, in 1107, he obtained the quiet Saviour's, now the parish church of the dispossession of this see; to whose time may trict. The church, as it then stood, was be referred the nave of the church, the archi- built in the cathedral form, that of a cross, tecture of which corroborates the date above the superstructure showing a nave, transepts, cited. t

choir, and Lady Chapel, with a small chapel, In the 14th of John, 1213, the priory was the Bishop's, attached; the chapel of St. nearly destroyed by a fire, which also con. John, on the north side; and the Magdalen sumed a large portion of the borough of chapel, on the south. From the centre rose Southwark. It was not until many years a lofty embattled tower, with pinnacles at afterwards re-built by Peter de Rupibus, the angles, From this period to the comBishop of Winchester, who also founded, mencement of the present century, the deseand perhaps erected, the spacious chapel there cration and defacement of the church by rededicated to St. Mary Magdalen, afterwards pairs may be said to have extended. The the parish church for the inhabitants of the corporation let the Lady Chapel to a baker, vicinity.

who used it as a bakehouse, and partly for The repairs and additions which the stric- hog-sties. In 1618, the fine, uninterrupted ture received subsequent to the reign of perspective of the nave and choir was deEdward I. did not much alter its appearance ; stroyed, by an organ-screen set up at the for, in that monarch's reign, the poverty and west end of the choir, in place of the ancient decayed state of the church and monastery rood-loft. In the years 1621 and 1622, the were very great.

greater part of the west front and north side In the reign of Richard II. this house was was coated with brick. In 1624, the Lady again much damaged, and again repaired, Chapel was restored and newly paved. In and partly rebuilt in that and the subsequent 1689, the tower was repaired and restored, reign. To these repairs, the poet Gower and the pinnacles were rebuilt. In 1703,

the old altar-screen, a beautiful specimen of • Stow relates that the monks of St. Mary Overy pointed work, was encased with oaken cowere the builders of the original London Bridge,

lumns, painted Commandment and other + Some time, we think, in the year 1827, on a week-day visit to the church, we found Mr. Gwilt tables, whole-length portraits of Moses and and his eldest son enthusiastically inspecting a door Aaron, volant cherubim, &c.; the ancient way with Saxon mouldings, which they had uncased and more appropriate stalls were removed, from brickwork, in the north aisle of the nave, "The and the pewing erected; and thus the cawith the chevron, or zig-zag ornament, as well as by thedral character of the church was already some elegant leaves deeply undercut: these mould- destroyed. ings spring from the capitals of three slender cylin.

The church was now neglected until the drical columns, attached to each jamb." We may here "mention, that until this discovery, the only # For an Engraving of his Tomb, see Mirror, vol. relics of Bishop Giffard's church were a few capitals; xiii. p. 225. in taking down some portions of the transept, in § About this time, the embattled parapets of the 1830, several fragments of Norman workmanship nave and south aisle, which appear in Hollar's view were taken out of the walls, in which they had been of this church, were removed. From the tower, by used as rubble."--Brayley.

the way, Hollar drew his celebrated View of London.

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