The next position is, that the captain was not qualified for his command. We have on this point examined the survivors, and they unanimously agree that he was an experienced seaman; had long followed that stormy profession; and had made half a dozen voyages before. We think that one or two great errors in judgment were committed. In the first place, when the wind increased, and chopped round so as to prevent his proceeding, he should have returned to the Downs, and awaited a more favourable opportunity. The next error was his not having run the vessel stern on, and immediately proceeded to give intelligence to the consul of his freight, and then have landed the convicts; whereas he allowed his ship to go broadside on; and he then, after she had struck, and was hard and fast, let go his lee anchor. If the vessel lifted after this oversight, she would have fallen on the anchor, and in all probability it would have forced itself through the vessel. Some, willing to make allowances for the event, declare, that it was the object of the captain to get his ship end on to the shore, and that the anchor was let go to lighten her- a fatal argument, and better never broached !-because, if that had been the intention of the captain, why did he not run the vessel stern on when she was afloat; or, when she struck, why not have let go the other anchor? the guns, or all but one, could have been thrown overboard; the main and mizen. masts could have been cut away, and the vessel lightened by every means in his power; and when the tide fell, and the vessel was immovable, he could have landed his convicts. But no; it is positively affirmed that he lost his presence of mind, and, instead of suggesting some remedy, betook himself to the poop-cabin with the women, and there remained; else, how account for the persevering stupidity of not listening to Hénin? for, had he been on deck, he would have seen this man standing under his starboard fore-chains, not out of his depth; and he would have seen, what everybody else saw, that his vessel was irrevocably lost -that no boat, however good, could have laid his anchor out to windward for him; and he must have known, from the high ridge of the breakers outside of him, that he was too far on the shoal ever to have got off. On this subject, we think that, although the captain might have been an efficient seaman afloat, yet that he (to use our informer's own words) "lost his head, and did not know what he was about." The story of his standing on the gangway, with his pistols, to shoot the first man who attempted to get on shore, is every word false; and equally untrue are the aspersions cast upon the surgeon and his wife.

Now come we to this important point-whether that assistance was given from the shore, both before and after the ship went to pieces. It seems rather strange that, when a vessel is seen off the port in a hard gale of wind, the sea running high, and no prospect of her clearing the coast, no precautions were taken to warn the authorities of Boulogne of the fact, that, even when she grounded, no very great exertions were made to force the captain to land his crew, neither were fires lighted to guide, or even to animate with hope, those who should trust themselves to the waves, and endeavour to save themselves by swimming. Nay, the only signal which seems to have been given was by M. Lennoy, one of the senior officers of the Custom-house, who fired a musket three times, which could, from the spray and the flying sand, the wind

and the waves, neither have been seen nor heard, and who afterwards stuck a handkerchief on a bayonet, and endeavoured by that means, equally fruitless, to warn the stranded men of their danger. But the most crying neglect is, that those of the authorities present,-and we all know how mighty precautious these authorities generally are-did not send an official notice to the English consul, and warn him of the certain wreck of an English vessel.

In the next place, whatever might have been the disposition of the humane class of people, all their laudable intentions were frustrated by that barbarous law before mentioned, touching the douaniers. And here, in order not to appear prejudiced by any national feeling, we shall quote a passage from the Annotateur. It immediately follows the description of the wreck, and when the hull suddenly disappeared:

Une seule pensée se présenta alors à l'esprit d'une partie de la multitude assemblée sur le port, ce fut de se précipiter sur la plage; et de s'avancer dans les flots pour secourir les malheureux qui pourraient gagner le rivage sur les débris: presque tout le monde s'y porta; mais ces généreux efforts furent tout-à-coup entravés et paralysés par les employés de la douane, qui, conformément à leur consigne, s'efforcèrent d'empêcher que plus de vingt-cinq personnes se rendissent sur les lieux où les secours allaient devenir si nécessaires. Nous n'hésitons pas à le dire cette consigne de la douane a été dans cette nuit déplorable, funeste au-delà de toute expression; c'est par une appréciation bien juste et bien raisonnée de ce qu'il y avait à faire en ce moment, que la population entière s'est élevée contre elle et l'a blamée."

After such a quotation, we only beg leave to add our censure, and to call with, we hope, a sufficiently loud voice, to draw the attention of the British legislature to the existence of a law so prejudicial to rendering aid where it is most required, and to urge them to take immediate steps, by applying to the French government to rescind or to alter that law in such a manner, that human life may not be sacrificed under the fallacious mask of preventing either plunder or smuggling.

Plunder-that word opens a new view of the case-is the law made to prevent plunder? if it is, we will show how preciously inefficacious it is under circumstances like the above; we hesitate not to say that more open plunder took place on that night and the following day than in the sacking of Badajoz ;-never was there more violation of all the laws of civilization than when that convict-ship was wrecked. Undismayed by the feeble resistance of the douaniers on this point, the victims were, in some cases, stripped entirely, and thus exposed to public gaze were handed into the house belonging to the Humane Society. Now, if these rigid laws were really intended to prevent either plunder or smuggling, why were not the National Guard turned out? and where were these eternal drummers, who beat their infernal copper kettle from daylight to dusk, to call into activity this civil guard when they were doomed to quit their shops to practise firing at a mark, or to go through the manual exercise for no possible use? Why, when they could have been serviceable, were they allowed to slumber and to snore when the work of devastation and of death were in full force within hail of them? where was the vigilant police, so famed in the writings of every traveller, when the body of Mrs. Forrester was found in her black dress, and we know

we are correct in our statement, for she was recognized by the work on some of her garments,-where were the police, that the body could have been divested of every particle of covering, and in broad daylight was handed into the hospital, naked, by heavens! as naked as she was born, not even her stockings left!!

Now let us, in conclusion, briefly review the whole case :-a ship is wrecked in droad daylight, within pistol-shot of a populous town, on a sand. The authorities know nothing of the fact; the English, who form the principal portion of the inhabitants, are equally ignorant of the event; the ship goes to pieces; 134 people are drowned, or those who out of that number succeed in getting ashore alive are murdered, because the aid which would have been offered was frustrated; the bodies are mangled, are mutilated, the teeth are extracted, the hair is cut off, the living and the dead are pillaged and plundered in broad daylight, and all these brutalities are committed in a town, with a strong National Guard for the protection of its inhabitants-a town which has risen to its present splendour entirely through the sums of money expended by the English. We do not mention this fact for the purpose of claiming from it any extra exertions in behalf of suffering humanity, but to show that, long as we have associated ourselves with these good people, we most certainly have not entirely eradicated the bitter feeling they so long entertained against "the most brave and the most constant of their enemies."

The whole affair is almost incredible, and we quit the subject to turn. to more charitable people; but it must be borne in mind that many of the French used their utmost exertion to protect the weak and to shelter the distressed, and amongst these M. Mechin may safely take the first place; his unremitted kindness and attention during the disaster, and his charitable assistance afterwards, for ever entitle him to the gratitude of our countrymen. A subscription was set on foot for the survivors, and likewise for the widows of those drowned; nearly four thousand francs were collected, the clergy used their talents in the cause; and had not a kind of apprehension been spread abroad that the sums collected would have been wasted in the purchase of a life-boat, which no one would venture on board of, and which had already been ineffectually tried, and that a disproportionate sum was likely to be lavished on those who did not do what they certainly might have done, the subscription would have been double its present sum. Amongst the larger donations we remark that of the Duke of Orleans, amounting to 500 francs. A petition was drawn up and numerously signed, to request Lord Palmerston to urge the French Government to rescind their barbarous law, and most sincerely do we hope that, should another unfortunate wreck fall on this coast, the disgrace on the national character may be obliterated, the living rescued and sheltered, and the dead neither pillaged nor mutilated.

A VISIT TO THE FIELD OF AGINCOURT.

"The poor condemned English,

Like sacrifices by their watchful fires,

Sit patiently, and inly ruminate

The morning's danger; and their gesture sad

And war-worn coats, investing lean lank cheeks,
Presented them unto the gazing moon

So many horrid ghosts."-HENRY V.

THE village of Agincourt, which gives name to one of the most heroic achievements recorded in the annals of British valour, is situated about sixteen miles from St. Omer, and eight from the strongly fortified town of Hesdin. Lying in a secluded situation, at some distance from the high road, it is unvisited and comparatively unknown. Your cockney tourist, from the moment he creeps up the ladder at Calais pier, and has rid himself of the qualms of sea-sickness, seems influenced by a species of mania for racing onwards to Paris. The dissolute pleasures of the French capital inflame his senses; he is unable to glance either to the right hand or to the left, however interesting the objects that intrude themselves on his attention. "En route!" is the word. Though the high road passes over a portion of the battle-field at Roussainville, not one in a thousand of our countrymen has ever stopped his horses for a single hour, to investigate scenes hallowed in the recollection of national glory, and immortalized in one of the most spirit-stirring dramas to which the pen of Shakspeare has given birth.

The most prominent and impressive sensations, which are produced in the spectator's mind on visiting the scene of great achievements, arise from the force of contrast. He arrives, his ideas tinged, as it were, with blood and carnage; he seems to hear

"The battle bray,

Man to man, and horse to horse,"

and finds all calmness and tranquillity. The sword appears, literally, to have been changed into a plough-share, and the spear into a pruninghook. When I visited Agincourt in the summer of 1831, the field of battle wore the appearance of an immense corn-field some miles in extent. The grain was partly reaped and removed, partly remaining in piles of golden sheaves that dotted the surface of the plain farther than the eye could reach. A merry band of male and female peasantry were engaged in driving the last loaded waggon towards the village, (it was evening,) and several small parties of gleaners, in fanciful and varied costume, passed me at intervals, each having its little burden, the scanty well-earned produce of a sultry day's toil. Yet they sang gaily, and seemed light-hearted and happy, as though the whole crop of the " great battle-field," and one of the most productive harvests in the memory of man, had been their own. The French are certainly a very cheerful, lively nation; but still one seeks among them in vain for that admirable gaité du cœur, that almost Arcadian elegance in their amusements, which Sterne describes as existing among them fifty years ago. The elegance, I believe, never existed anywhere, except in his fine imagination,-that threw a charm

over everything on which it dwelt. He, possibly, witnessed mere. reckless, extravagant mirth; but that was the rioting of bondsmen,of those who lived in this world without hope. The horrors of one of the most sanguinary revolutions that ever disgraced the pages of history, gave them personal freedom. With liberty comes reflection; and we rarely find a thinking people remarkable for their love of extravagant mirth.

My journey was pedestrian. I had walked from Calais, and had loitered away a considerable portion of my second day in listening to the peasant's traditionary lore respecting "la grande battaille avec les Anglois." The sun was rapidly sinking, as emerging from a woodland path, I suddenly encountered two men seated at the root of a tree which grew upon the edge of a very extensive plain. One of them was a woodcutter, the other a garde-chasse, or gamekeeper, whose appearance I shall describe, from the laughable contrast exhibited between his upper and lower integuments. He was of Herculean form, above six feet high, and wore a costly green velvet hunting-coat, crossed by a broad leathern belt. On the centre of this was fixed a large and massive silver badge inscribed with his employer's name, rank, and armorial bearings of at least twenty quarterings. A doublebarrelled gun of the richest Damascus work, and of rather antique fashion, lay at his side, and an elegant and curiously constructed gamepouch, formed of net-work and leather, presented, so far, a very favourable specimen of the French chasseur. But, proh pudor! that the "eternal fitness of things" should have been thus violated. Contrasted with, and, as it were, in absolute mockery of all this finery, he exhibited a pair of filthy deer-hide buskins, the spoils of some gallant "stag of ten," that probably might have ranged his native wilds in the reign of Louis Quatorze; but certainly at no later period. They were a thing of shreds and patches; " and his rough, hairy, muscular limbs exhibited their "unhoused condition" through a score of rents and fissures; while his hoseless feet were shod with that most hideous of all human coverings,-a pair of sabots, or wooden shoes. However, as Burns observes,

"A man's a man for a' that."

He proved a most obliging fellow, especially learned in woodcraft, and a perfect enthusiast in a profession which, of all others, is best calculated to create enthusiasm. There was no use in attempting to persuade him to speak on any other topic; and finding I had little chance of introducing the subject nearest my thoughts, I patiently submitted to that which seemed uppermost in his. Accordingly, he descanted on the difference between "La grande et la petite chasse;" the inferiority of the English grey to the French red legged partridge; the splendid feudal magnificence of the royal hunting equipages of the French monarchs before the Revolution; (his father had been one of the valets de chasse to Louis XV. at Fontainbleau ;) and all the stately ceremonies incident to "La Chasse Royale," from the unharbouring of the stag, until the moment when the king, riding into the furious and desperate animal at bay before a hundred hounds, gallantly gave him the finishing stroke with his couteau de chasse; winding up his narrative by drawing from a pocket the snow-white formidable tusk of a wild boar, tipped with silver, and near six inches in length, which he used as U.S. JOURN, No. 59, Oct. 1833.

M