a sword in a case, for fear it should go off, was paralyzed with fear, and could only ejaculate, "Massacre!" The strong-minded lady of a certain age, who had longed for the "pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war," had taken refuge in that excellent collection of tracts, of which "The Dairyman's Daughter," is one; and gave short yelps of fear whenever the door opened. Fear, like every other emotion, is contagious. Remarking so many white faces, so much subdued utterance, so many cowed and terrified looks, I thought it very likely that I might get frightened, too. So, having been up all the previous night, I went to bed. came less distinct, "Woe, woe, woe to the blood | and who will not even travel in an omnibus with of Vasa!" The forms of all the assembly now became less clear, and seemed but colored shades: soon they entirely disappeared; the lights were extinguished; still they heard a melodious noise, which one of the witnesses compared to the murmuring of the wind among the trees, another to the sound a harp string gives in breaking. All agreed as to the duration of the apparition, which they said lasted ten minutes. The hangings, the head, the waves of blood, all had disappeared with the phantoms, but Charles's slipper still retained a crimson stain, which alone would have served to remind him of the scenes of this night, if indeed they had not been but too well engraven on his memory. When the king returned to his apartment, he wrote an account of what he had seen, and he and his companions signed it. In spite of all the precautions taken to keep these circumstances private, they were well known, even during the lifetime of Charles, and no one hitherto has thought fit to raise doubts as to their authenticity. A STREET-SCENES OF THE FRENCH I slept; I dreamt of a locomotive engine blowing up and turning into the last scene of a pantomime, with "state of siege" displayed in colored fires. I dreamt I lived next door to an undertaker, or a trunk-maker, or a manufacturer of fire-works. I awoke to the rattle of musketry in the distance-soon, too soon, to be followed by the roar of the cannon. ""Tis not my vo I am not a fighting man. cation, Hal." I am not ashamed to say that I did not gird my sword on my thigh, and sally out to conquer or to die; that I did not ensconce my Charles IX., the leaders of the enemy below.— Had I been "our own correspondent," I might have written, in the intervals of fighting, terrific accounts of the combat on cartridge paper, with a pen made from a bayonet, dipped in gunpowder and gore. Had I been "our own artist," I might have mounted a monster barricade-waving the flag of Freedom with one hand, and taking sketches with the other. But being neither, I did not do any thing of the kind. I will tell you what I did: I withdrew, with seven Englishmen as valorous as myself, to an apartment, which I have reason to believe is below the basement floor; and there, in company with sundry carafons of particular cognac, and a large box of cigars, passed the remainder of the day. WRITER in Dickens's Household Words gives a graphic sketch of a visit to Paris dur-self at a, second floor window, and pick off à la ing the recent usurpation of Louis Napoleon, and of the scenes of butchery which occurred in the streets. On arriving in Paris, he says, every thing spoke of the state of siege. The newspapers were in a state of siege; for the Government had suspended all but its own immediate organs. The offices of the sententious "Siècle," the mercurial" Presse," the satiric "Charivari," the jovial "Journal pour Rire," were occupied by the military; and, to us English, they whispered even of a park of artillery in the Rue Vivienne, and of a government proof-reader in the printing-office of "Galignani's Messenger," striking out obnoxious paragraphs by the dozen. The provisions were in a state of siege, the milk was out, and no one would volunteer to go to the crémiers for more; the cabs, the commission- I sincerely hope that I shall never pass such naires with their trucks, were besieged; the very another. We rallied each other, talked, laughed, gas was slow in coming from the main, as though and essayed to sing; but the awful consciousthe pipes were in a state of siege. Nobody ness of the horror of our situation hung over us could think or speak of any thing but this con-all-the knowledge that within a few hundred founded siege. Thought itself appeared to be beleaguered; for no one dared to give it any thing but a cautious and qualified utterance. The hotel was full of English ladies and gentlemen, who would have been delighted to go away by the first train on any of the railways; but there might just as well have been no railways, for all the good they were, seeing that it was impossible to get to or from the termini with safety. The gentlemen were valorous, certainly-there was a prevalence of "who's afraid?" sentiments; but they read the French Bradshaw earnestly, and gazed at the map of Paris with nervous interest-beating, meanwhile, the devil's tattoo. As for the ladies, dear creatures, they made no secret of their extreme terror and despair. The lone old lady, who is frightened at every thing, yards of us God's image was being wantonly de- | all accident, chance-medley-excusable, of course How were the soldiers to distinguish between in surgents and sight-seers? These murders were, after all, but a few of the thorns to be found in the rose-bush of glorious war! venturing during a lull, about half-past four, and glancing nervously from our porte-cochère, a regiment of dragoons came thundering past, pointing their pistols at the windows, and shouting at those within, with oaths to retire from them. I should like the young ladies who waltz with the "dear Lancers," to have seen these Lancers, in stained white cloaks, with their murderous weapons couched. I should like those who admire the Horse Guards-the prancing steeds, the shining casques and cuirasses, the massive epaulets and dangling sabres, the trim mustache, irreproachable buckskins, and dazzling jack-boots-to have seen these cuirassiers gallop by: their sorry horses covered with mud and sweat; their haggard faces blackened with gunpowder; their shabby accoutrements and battered helmets. The bloody swords, the dirt, the hoarse voices, unkempt beards. Glorious war! I think the sight of those horrible troopers would do more to cure its admirers than all the orators of the Peace Society could do in a twelve-manding officer would let neither man, woman, month! We dined-without the ladies, of course-and sat up until very late; the cannon and musketry roaring meanwhile, till nearly midnight. Then it stopped To recommence again, however, on the next (Friday) morning. Yesterday they had been tighting all day on the Boulevards, from the Madeleine to the Temple. To-day, they were murdering each other at Belleville, at La Chapelle St. Denis, at Montmartre. Happily the firing ceased at about nine o'clock, and we heard no more. From the street which in old Paris times used to go by the name of the Rue Royale, and which I know by the token that there is an English pastry-cook's on the right-hand side, coming down; where in old days I used (a small lad then at the Collège Bourbon) to spend my halfholidays in consuming real English cheesecakes, and thinking of home-in the Rue Royale, now called, I think, Rue de la République; I walked on to the place, and by the Boulevard de la Madeleine, des Italiens, and so by the long line of that magnificent thoroughfare, to within a few streets of the Porte St. Denis. Here I stopped, for the simple reason that a hedge of soldiery bristled ominously across the road, close to the Rue de Faubourg Montmartre, and that the com. nor child pass. The Boulevards were crowded, almost impassable in fact, with persons of every grade, from the "lion" of the Jockey Club, or the English nobleman, to the pretty grisette in her white cap, and the scowling, bearded citizen. clad in blouse and calotte, and looking very much as if he knew more of a barricade than he chose to aver. The houses on either side of the way bore frightful traces of the combat of the previous day. The Maison Doré, the Café Anglais, the Opéra Comique, Tortoni's, the Jockey Club, the Belle Jardinière, the Hôtel des Affaires Etrangères, and scores, I might almost say hundreds of the houses had their windows smashed, or the magnificent sheets of plate-glass starred with balls; the walls pockmarked with bullets: seam I do not, of course, pretend to give any account of what really took place in the streets on Thurslay; how many barricades were erected, and how they were defended or destroyed. I do not presume to treat of the details of the combat my-ed and scarred and blackened with gunpowder. self, confining what I have to say to a description of what I really saw of the social aspect of the city. The journals have given full accounts of what brigades executed what manœuvres. of how many were shot to death here, and how many bayoneted there. On Friday at noon, the embargo on the cabs was removed-although that on the omnibuses continued; and circulation for foot passengers became tolerably safe, in the Quartier St. Honoré, and on the Boulevards. I went into an English chemist's shop in the Rue de la Paix, for a bottle of soda-water. The chemist was lying dead up-stairs, shot. He was going from his shop to another establishment he had in the Faubourg Poissonière, to have the shutters shut, apprehending a disturbance. Entangled for a moment on the Boulevard, close to the Rue Lepelletier, among a crowd of well-dressed persons, principally English and Americans, an order was given to clear the Boulevard. A charge of Lancers was made, the men firing their pistols wantonly among the flying crowd; and the chemist was shot dead. Scores of similar incidents took place on that dreadful Thursday afternoon.Friends, acquaintances of my own, had friends, neighbors, relations, servants, killed. Yet it was A grocer, close to the Rue de Marivaux, told me that he had not been able to open his door that morning fo the dead bodies piled on the step before it. Round all the young trees (the old trees were cut down for former barricades in February and June, 1848), the ground shelves a little in a circle; in these circles there were pools of blood. The people-the extraordinary, inimitable, consistently inconsistent French people—were unconcernedly lounging about, looking at these things with pleased yet languid curiosity. They paddled in the pools of blood; they traced curiously the struggles of some wounded wretch, who, shot or sabred on the curbstone, had painfully, deviously, dragged himself (so the gouts of blood showed) to a door-step-to die. They felt the walls, pitted by musket bullets; they poked their walking-sticks into the holes made by the cannon-balls. It was as good as a play to them. The road on either side was lined with dragoons armed cap-a-pić. The poor tired horses were munching the forage with which the muddy ground was strewn; and the troopers sprawled listlessly about, smoking their short pipes, and mending their torn costume or shattered accoutrements. Indulging, however, in the dolce far niente, as they seemed to be, they were ready for n at a moment's notice. There was, about | piteously: how Bluckey, the man who talked sc two o'clock, an alerte-a rumor of some tumult much about the Pytchley hounds, and of the toward the Rue St. Denis. One solitary trumpet astonishing leaps he had taken when riding after sounded "boot and saddle;" and, with almost them, concealed himself in a coal-cellar, and lying magical celerity, each dragoon twisted a quantity down on his face, never stirred from that position of forage into a species of rope, which he hung from noon till midnight on Thursday (although over his saddle-bow, crammed his half-demolish- I, to be sure, have no right to taunt him with ed loaf into his holsters, buckled on his cuirass; his prudence): how, finally, M‘Gropus, the Scotch then, springing himself on his horse, sat mo- surgeon, bolted incontinently in a cab, with an tionless: each cavalier with his pistol cocked, immense quantity of luggage, toward the Cheminand his finger on the trigger. The crowd thick-de-fer du Nord; and, being stopped in the Rue ened; and in the road itself there was a single file of cabs, carts, and even private carriages. Almost every moment detachments of prisoners, mostly blouses, passed, escorted by cavalry; then a yellow flag was seen, announcing the approach of an ambulance, or long covered vehicle, filled with wounded soldiers; then hearses; more prisoners, more ambulances, orderly dragoons at full gallop, orderlies, military surgeons in their cock-principally fed by the remnants of his trunks ed hats and long frock coats, broughams with smart general officers inside, all smoking. As to the soldiers, they appear never to leave off smoking. They smoke in the guard-room, off duty, and even when on guard. An eye-witness of the combat told me that many of the soldiers had, when charging, short pipes in their mouths, and the officers, almost invariably, smoked cigars. At three, there was more trumpeting, more drumming, a general backing of horses on the foot-passengers, announcing the approach of some important event. A cloud of cavalry came galloping by; then, a numerous and brilliant group of staff-officers. In the midst of these, attired in the uniform of a general of the National Guard, rode Louis Napoleon Bonaparte. I 'saw him again the following day in the Champs Elysée, riding with a single English groom behind him; and again in a chariot, escorted by cuirassiers. When he had passed, I essayed a further progress toward the Rue St. Denis; but the hedge of bayonets still bristled as ominously as ever. I went into a little tobacconist's shop; and the pretty marchande showed me a frightful trace of the passage of a cannon ball, which had gone right through the shutter and glass, smashed cases on cases of cigars, and half demolished the little tobacconist's parlor. My countrymen were in great force on the Boulevards, walking arm and arm, four abreast, as it is the proud custom of Britons to do. From them, I heard, how Major Pongo, of the Company's service, would certainly have placed his sword at the disposal of the Government in support of law and order, had he not been confined to his bed with a severe attack of rheumatism: how Mr. Bellows, Parisian correspondent to the "Evening Grumbler," had been actually led out to be shot, and was only saved by the interposition of his tailor, who was a sergeant in the National Guard; and who, passing by, though not on duty, exerted his influence with the military authorities, to save the life of Mr. Bellows; how the Reverend Mr. Faldstool, ministre Anglican, was discovered in a corn-bin, moaning St. Denis, was ignominiously turned out of his vehicle by the mob; the cab, together with M'Gropus's trunks, being immediately converted into the nucleus of a barricade :-how, returning the following morning to see whether he could recover any portion of his effects, he found the barricades in the possession of the military, who were quietly cooking their soup over a fire and portmanteaus; whereupon, frantically endeavoring to rescue some disjecta membra of his property from the wreck, he was hustled and bonneted by the soldiery, threatened with arrest, and summary military vengeance, and ultimately paraded from the vicinity of the bivouac, by bayonets with sharp points. 66 With the merits or demerits of the struggle, I have nothing to do. But I saw the horrible ferocity and brutality of this ruthless soldiery. I saw them bursting into shops, to search for arms or fugitives; dragging the inmates forth, like sheep from a slaughter-house, smashing the furniture and windows. I saw them, when making a passage for a convoy of prisoners, or a wagon full of wounded, strike wantonly at the bystanders, with the butt-ends of their muskets, and thrust at them with their bayonets. I might have seen more; but my exploring inclination was rapidly subdued by a gigantic Lancer at the corner of the Rue Richelieu; who seeing me stand still for a moment, stooped from his horse, and putting his pistol to my head (right between the eyes) told me to traverser!" As I believed he would infallibly have blown my brains out in another minute, I turned and fled. So much for what I saw. I know, as far as a man can know, from trustworthy persons, from eyewitnesses, from patent and notorious report, that the military, who are now the sole and supreme masters of that unhappy city and country, have been perpetrating most frightful barbarities since the riots were over. I know that, from the Thursday I arrived, to the Thursday I left Paris, they were daily shooting their prisoners in cold blood; that a man, caught on the Pont Neuf, drunk with the gunpowder-brandy of the cabarets, and shouting some balderdash about the République démocratique et sociale, was dragged into the Prefecture of Police, and, some soldiers' cartridges having been found in his pocket, was led into the court-yard, and there and then, untried, unshriven, unaneled-shot! I know that in the Champ de Mars one hundred and fifty-six men were executed; and I heard one horrible story (so horrible that I can scarcely credit it) that a batch of prisoners were tied together with ropes like a fagot of wood; and that the struggling mass was fired into, until not a limb moved, nor a groan was uttered. I know --and my informant was a clerk in the office of the Ministry of War-that the official return of insurgents killed was two thousand and seven, and of soldiers fifteen. Rather long odds! We were in-doors betimes this Friday evening, comparing notes busily, as to what we had seen during the day. We momentarily expected to hear the artillery again, but, thank Heaven, the bloodshed in the streets at least was over; and though Paris was still a city in a siege, the barricades were all demolished; and another struggle was for the moment crushed. The streets next day were full of hearses; but even the number of funerals that took place were insignificant, in, comparison to the stacks of corpses which were cast into deep trenches without shroud or coffin, and covered with quicklime. I went to the Morgue in the afternoon, and found that dismal charnel-house fully tenanted. Every one of the fourteen beds had a corpse; some, dead with gunshot wounds; some, sabred; some, horribly mutilated by cannon-balls. There was a queue outside of at least two thousand people, laughing, talking, smoking, eating apples, as though it was some pleasant spectacle they were going to, instead of that frightful exhibition. Yet, in this laughing, talking, smoking crowd, there were fathers who had missed their sons; sons who came there dreading to see the corpses of their fathers; wives of Socialist workmen, sick with the almost certainty of finding the bodies of their husbands. The bodies were only exposed six hours; but the clothes remained-a very grove of blouses. The neighboring churches were hung with black, and there were funeral services at St. Roch and at the Madeleine. dancing the Schottische at the Casino; barying their dead; selling breloques for watch-chains in the Palais Royal; demolishing barricades, and staring at the caricatures in M. Aubert's windows; taking the wounded to the hospitals, and stock-jobbing on the Bourse; I went about my business, as well as the state of siege would let me. Turning my face homeward, I took the Rouen and Havre Railway, and so, viá Southampton, to London. As I saw the last cocked hat of the last gendarme disappear with the receding pier at Havre, a pleasant vision of the blue-coats, oil-skin hats, and lettered collars of the land I was going to, swam before my eyes; and, I must say that, descending the companionladder, I thanked Heaven I was an Englishman. I was excessively sea-sick, but not the less thankful; and getting at last to sleep, dreamed of the Bill of Rights and Habeas Corpus. I wonder how they would flourish amidst Liberty, Equality, Fraternity, and Musketry! WHAT BECOMES OF THE RIND? all the occupations that exercise the ordistracting is that of sucking an orange. It seems to employ the whole faculties for the time being. There is an earnestness of purpose in the individual so employed-an impassioned determination to accomplish what he has undertaken—that creates a kindred excitement in the bystanders. His air is thoughtful; his eye severe, not to say relentless; and although his mouth is full of inarticulate sounds, conversation is out of the question. But the mind is busy although the tongue is silent; and when the deed is accomplished, the collapsed spheroid seems to swell anew with the ideas to which the exercise had given birth. One of these ideas we shall catch and fix, for occurring as it did to ourselves, it is our own property: it was contained in the question that rose suddenly in our mind as we looked at the ruin we had made-What becomes of the rind? And yet with this Golgotha so close; with the blood not yet dry on the Boulevards; with corpses yet lying about the streets; with five thousand soldiers bivouacking in the Champs And this is no light question; no unimportant Elysées; with mourning and lamentation in al- or merely curious pastime for a vacant moment. most every street; with a brutal military in al- In our case it became more and more serious; it most every printing-office, tavern, café; with clung and grappled, till it hung upon our mediproclamations threatening death and confiscation tations like the albatross round the neck of the covering the walls; with the city in a siege, Ancient Mariner. Only consider what a subject without a legislature, without laws, without a it embraces. The orange, it is true, and its congovernment-this extraordinary people was, the gener the lemon, are Celestial fruits, owing their next night, dancing and flirting at the Salle Val-origin to the central flowery land; but, thanks entino, or the Prado, lounging in the foyers of to the Portuguese, they are now domesticated in the Italian Opera, gossiping over their eau-sucrée, Europe, and placed within the reach of such or squabbling over their dominoes outside and inside the cafés. I saw Rachel in 66 races;" I went to the Variétés, the Opéra Comique, and no end of theatres; and as we walked home at night through lines of soldiers, brooding over their bivouacs, I went into a restaurant, and asking whether it had been a ball which had starred the magnificent pier-glass before me, got for answer, "Ball, sir!-cannon-ball, sir!—yes, sir!" for all the world as though I had inquired about the mutton being in good cut, or asparagus in season! northern countries as ours, where the cold proLes Ho-hibits their growth. Some of us no doubt force them in an artificial climate, at the expense of perhaps half a guinea apiece; but the bulk of the nation are content to receive them from other regions at little more than the cost of apples. Now the quantity we (the English) thus import every year from the Azores, Spain, Portugal, Italy, Malta, and other places, is about 300,000 chests, and each of these chests contains about 650 oranges, all wrapped separately in paper. But beside these we are in the habit of purchasing a So, while they were shooting prisoners and large quantity, entered at the custom-house by number, and several thousand pounds' worth, entered at value; so that the whole number of oranges and lemons we consume in this country may be reckoned modestly at 220,000,000! Surely, then, it is not surprising that while engaged in the meditative employment alluded to, we should demand with a feeling of strong interest -What becomes of the rind? Citrons intended for peel are imported in brine, but oranges and lemons in boxes. All are ripe in December, January, and February; but as it would be inconvenient to preserve so vast a quantity at the same time, the juice is squeezed out, and the collapsed fruit packed in pipes, with salt and water, till wanted. When the time for preserving comes, it is taken from the pipes, and boiled till soft enough to admit of the pulp being scooped out; then the rind is laid in tubs or cisterns, and melted sugar poured over it. Here it lies for three or four weeks; and then the sugar is drained away, and the rind placed on trays in a room constructed for the purpose. It now assumes the name of "dried peel," and is stored away in the original orange and lemon boxes, till wanted for candying. Every body knows that Scotch marmalade uses up the rinds of a great many Seville oranges, as well as an unknown quantity of turnip skins and stalks of the bore-cole, the latter known to the Caledonian manipulators of the preserve as "kailcustocks." Every body understands also, that not a few of the rinds of edible oranges take up a position on the pavement, where their mission is to bring about the downfall of sundry passers- The other constituents of a plum-pudding add by thus accomplishing the fracture of a not in- but little testimony on the subject of number. considerable number-taking one month with We can not even guess the proportion of the another throughout the season-of arms, legs, | 170,000 lbs. of nutmegs we receive from the Moand occiputs. It is likewise sufficiently public luccas, and our own possessions in the Malay that a variety of drinks are assisted by the hot, Straits, which may be thus employed; nor how pungent rinds of oranges and lemons as well as much cinnamon Ceylon sends us for the purpose by the juice; but notwithstanding all these de- in her annual remittance of about 16,000 lbs. ; * ductions, together with that of the great quantity nor what quantity of almonds is abstracted, with thrown away as absolute refuse, we shall find a a similar view, from the 9000 cwts. we retain for number of rinds unaccounted for large enough to our own consumption from the importations from puzzle by its magnitude the Statistical Society. Spain and Northern Africa. Currants are more This mystery, however, we have succeeded in to our purpose-for that small Corinth grape, the penetrating, and although hardly hoping to carry produce of the islands of Zante, Cephalonia, and the faith of the reader along with us, we proceed Ithaca, and of the Morea, which comes to us so to unfold it it is contained in the single mono- thickly coated with dust that we might seem to syllable, peel. import vineyard and all-belongs, like the canOrange-peel, lemon-peel, citron-peel-these are died peel, almost exclusively to cakes and pudthe explanation: the last-mentioned fruit-im-dings. Of this fruit we devour in the year about ported from Sicily, Madeira, and the Canary Islands-being hardly distinguishable from a lemon except by its somewhat less acid pulp and more pungent rind. Even a very careless observer can hardly fail to be struck at this season by the heaps of those candied rinds displayed in the grocers' windows; but the wildest imagination could not guess at any thing so extravagant as the quantity of the fruit thus used; and even when we learn that upward of 600 tons of peel are manufactured in the year, it is a hopeless task to attempt to separate that prodigious bulk into its constituent parts. Six hundred tons of candied peel of a condiment employed chiefly if not wholly, in small quantities in the composition of puddings and cakes. Six hundred tons-12,000 hundredweights-1,344,000 pounds-21,504,000 ounces! But having once got possession of the fact, see how suggestive it is. Let us lump the puddings and cakes in one; let us call them all puddings-plum-puddings of four pounds' weight. We find, on consulting the best authorities-for we would not presume to dogmatize on such a subject—that the quantity of peel used in the composition of such a work is two ounces; and thus we are led to the conclusion that we Britishers devour in the course of a year 10,752,000 full-sized, respectable plum-puddings, irrespective of all such articles as are not adorned and enriched with candied peel. 180,000 cwts. Raisins, being in more general use at the dessert, for instance, and in making sweet wine-are in still greater demand; we can not do with less than 240,000 cwts of them. They are named from the place where they grow such as Smyrna or Valencia; or from the grape-such as muscatel, bloom, or sultana; but the quality depends, we believe, chiefly on the mode of cure. The best are called raisins of the sun, and are preserved by cutting half through the stalks of the branches when nearly ripe, and leaving them to dry and candy in the genial rays. The next quality is gathered when completely ripe, dipped in a lye of the ashes of the burned tendrils, and spread out to bake in the sun. The inferior is dried in an oven. The black Smyrna grape is the cheapest; and the muscatels of Malaga are the dearest. With flour, sugar, brandy, &c., we do not propose to interfere; for although the quantities of these articles thus consumed are immense, they bear but a small proportion to the whole importations. Eggs, however, are in a different category. Eggs are essential to the whole pudding race; and without having our minds opened, as they now are, to the full greatness of the plumpudding, it would be difficult for us to discover duty was lowered in 1842, from 6d. to 3d. per lb., and the *This is from M'Culloch; but the home-consumption consumption is now in all probability much greater. |