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DE QUINCEY'S 
 
 REVOLT OF THE TARTARS 
 
 AND 
 
 THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH 
 
 WITH INTRODUCTION AND NOTES 
 
 CECIL M. BARROW, M.A. OxON., 
 
 PRINCIPAL OF THE VICTORIA COLLEGE, PALGHAT, AND FELLOW OF THE MADRAS 
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COI^^TENTS. 
 
 INTRODUCTION— 
 
 (a) Thomas De Quincey, . 
 
 (ft) Db Quincet's Writings, . 
 
 (c) The Kevolt of the Tartars, 
 
 {d) The English Mail-Coach, 
 The Revolt of the Tartars, . 
 TheI English Mail-Coach, 
 Notes to the "Revolt of the Tartars,' 
 Notes to the " English Mail-Coach," . 
 
 PAGE 
 
 vii 
 
 xvi 
 
 xxix 
 
 xxxviii 
 
 1 
 
 57 
 
 113 
 
 139 
 
 Note. — 'The Selections from De Quincey contained in this 
 Volume are reprinted by arrangement with Messrs A. ^ C. 
 Black, the owners of the copyright. 
 
INTRODUCTION, 
 
 I. THOMAS DE QUINCEY. 
 
 The story of the earlier, and, in some respects, far more 
 important part of De Quincey's life has heen told by him- 
 self, partly in his Confessions of an English Opium-Eater, 
 and partly in a series of autobiographical sketches con- 
 tributed to an Edinburgh periodical.* There are, besides, 
 scattered throughout De Quincey's other writings, many 
 passages of an autobiographical character. 
 
 De Quincey lived to the age of seventy-four, busily work- 
 ing to the close ; and yet a full three-quarters of his life 
 furnishes the biographer with little beyond a catalogue of 
 more or less fugitive writings, frequent notices of change 
 of residence, two or three domestic occurrences, and a 
 miscellany of anecdotes characteristic of the personality 
 and eccentricities of the man. 
 
 De Quincey's autobiographical writings cover the first 
 twenty-three years of his life (1785—1808). During that 
 period, and for some time afterwards, he produced no original 
 literary work. The work comes later, but the whole nature 
 of the work was determined by the circumstances of the 
 earlier life. Something like this is, of course, true with all 
 men. In all cases the child is, in a sense, " the father of 
 the man," but with De Quincey it is true in a quite peculiar 
 sense, and for the following reasons ; — 
 
 * The autobiographical writings of De Quincey make up the first 
 three volumes of Masson's Collected Edition. 
 
viii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 (1) The most prominent features in De Quincey's genius 
 were shaped by the unique circumstances of his childhood 
 and youth. He came into the world with certain inherited 
 physical ailments, which were aggravated by particular epi- 
 sodes in his boyhood ; more especially did the period that 
 intervened between the close of his school education and his 
 matriculation at Oxford — a period spent in lonely wanderings 
 on the Welsh hillsides, and afterwards in a sort of vagabond 
 existence in the streets of London — bring about a species 
 of extreme bodily suffering, from which refuge was after- 
 wards found in opium-eating. Add to this a peculiar 
 precociousness in the boy from earliest childhood ; a capacity, 
 far above the common, for receiving and retaining im- 
 pressions ; add to this an almost painful craving for love 
 and sympathy ; the death of a dearly-loved sister ; an elder 
 brother, selfish, exacting and tyrannical ; a father lost before 
 he could be said to have been known ; a mother who, in 
 spite of many admirable qualities, seems never to have 
 understood her son ; guardians who, blind or indifferent, 
 persisted in doing exactly the wrong thing by their ward. 
 
 (2) Until the age of thirty-five De Quincey published 
 nothing. With the exception of a metrical translation of an 
 ode of Horace, written when he was fifteen, we have in De 
 Quincey's writings nothing of the nature of " Juvenilia." 
 When De Quincey appeared before the public as a man of 
 letters, he had reached the turning point of the allotted 
 three-score years and ten : his knowledge was multifarious 
 and extensive ; his opinions and tastes, the whole bent of his 
 mind and feelings, were thoroughly formed ; and his literary 
 powers were also practically developed to the full. Thus, 
 in a review of his actual work, extending as it does over 
 nearly forty years, we have no development to trace, either 
 in the external qualities of style, or in the more important 
 internal qualities of thought or predominant feeling. That 
 is to say, whether regarded as thinker or artist, De Quincey 
 advances little or not at all beyond the standard of his 
 earliest works. The subject varies infinitely ; the method 
 and treatment remain much the same. 
 
THOMAS DE QUINCE Y. ix 
 
 (3) Another reason lies in the peculiar nature of the 
 work itself. With nothing to record as to development of 
 thought or artistic skill, there might still have remained 
 some history as to the forms in which the early stage of 
 receptiveness reproduced itself, and periods might have 
 been marked off in which such and such work were pre- 
 pared and executed. We can do this with regard to most 
 great authors • but De Quincey is again peculiar. A chrono- 
 logical list of his writings can be, and indeed has been, 
 drawn up ; but it remains a catalogue, and nothing more. 
 De Quincey produced no single great work. Only two of 
 his writings appeared at first in book form, one a novel of 
 no great value, and the other a short treatise on Political 
 Economy. " He may be said," remarks his editor and 
 biographer, Professor Masson, " to have taken his place in 
 " our literature as the author of a hundred and fifty magazine 
 " articles." These articles vary to an extraordinary degree, 
 both as regards subject and character. But seemingly subject 
 and character are controlled not at all by the date of 
 composition, or, if at all, only through circumstances which 
 are purely accidental, and which are, for the most part, 
 unknown. Almost every year between 1821 and 1859 has 
 its article or articles assigned to it, but there is nothing in 
 the date which appears to have determined the nature of 
 the article, and nothing in the nature of the article which 
 would enable us to determine the date. 
 
 The life of De Quincey has been related by Dr. A. H. 
 Japp, and again by Professor Masson. To their volumes 
 the student must be referred for anything approaching a 
 detailed narrative. Only the merest sketch can be at- 
 tempted here. 
 
 The family of De Quincey was originally noble. An 
 ancestor of the opium-eater " came over with the Con- 
 queror " : afterwards certain De Quinceys are found Earls of 
 Winchester, and made some great or small noise in the 
 Barons' War and the Crusades. But these Earls of Win- 
 chester, as De Quincey tells us, " suddenly came to grief " ; 
 in fact, the family sank considerably in the world's 
 
X INTRODUCTION. 
 
 estimation. The aristocratic prefix " De " appears to have 
 been dropped, and the author's father signed his name, and 
 was known amongst his acquaintances, as plain Thomas 
 Quincey.* 
 
 This Thomas Quincey married a Miss Elizabeth Penson, 
 a lady of very good family connections. There were eight 
 children by this marriage, of whom Thomas, the fifth child 
 and the second son, was born on the 15th of August 1785, 
 at Manchester. At the age of six, De Quincey lost his elder 
 sister Elizabeth, to whom he was devotedly attached, and 
 whose death made so strange an impression on the child's 
 mind. Shortly afterwards the family removed to Greenhay, 
 a place at that time some miles distant from Manchester, but 
 long since swallowed up in the great manufacturing city. 
 Not long after, the elder Thomas Quincey died. 
 
 The education of De Quincey, after the elementary stage 
 of home instruction, was entrusted to a private tutor. In 
 the child's twelfth year the famUy removed to Bath, and 
 De Quincey entered the Bath Grammar School. Other 
 changes followed. In 1789 he was sent to a private school 
 at Winkfield in Wiltshire, and, at the end of 1800, to the 
 Manchester Grammar School, where he remained till July 
 1802. 
 
 De Quincey easily excelled in the various branches of 
 knowledge imparted at school. He obtained a singular 
 mastery over the Greek and I^atin languages. He showed 
 remarkable facility in the composition of Latin verse, and 
 he tells us that he acquired the power of writing and speaking 
 Greek with fluency — a very rare accomplishment in a school- 
 boy, or, for the matter of that, in any one. But he was not 
 content with the knowledge and acquirements demanded by 
 the standard of a public school education : he struck out a 
 line for himself, and early became acquainted, amongst other 
 things, with the literature of his own country, even in its 
 byways. He was throughout his life a voracious and 
 omnivorous reader. Southey, a competent judge on such 
 
 * In liis boyish letters De Quincey always signs himself " Thomas 
 Quincey "; the " De " appear.? to have been re-assumed by his mother. 
 
THOMAS DE QUINCE Y. xi 
 
 matters, once declared him to be the best informed man for 
 his years he had ever met. 
 
 Manchester Grammar School, for more than one reason, 
 proved unendurable to De Quincey. He earnestly entreated 
 his mother and guardians to remove him. His prayers were 
 unheard ; and so, unable to bear the torment any more (his 
 health breaking down), he took the bold course of running 
 away. One evening he appeared at Chester, where his 
 family had now taken up their quarters. On the advice of 
 his uncle. Colonel Penson, at that time staying with his sister 
 Mrs. De Quincey, the truant was, as he himself desired, 
 suffered to go on a walking tour in Wales, and a guinea a week 
 was allowed him to support existence as best he might. 
 
 Accordingly, from July to November, De Quincey wan- 
 dered about "Wales. The guinea a week proved miserably 
 insufficient; the boy was obliged to undergo the severest 
 privations, and the result was a permanent injury to his 
 constitution. 
 
 Worse still ; in an evil hour he formed the resolution to 
 cut himself adrift from his family and plunge into London. 
 Then followed greater suffering : hunger, wanderings by night 
 and day about the London streets, intense bodily pain and 
 sickness. 
 
 This is the period of his life (Manchester Grammar School, 
 the Welsh wanderings, and the vagabondism in London) 
 which is recounted in The Confessions of an English Opium- 
 Eater, for it was then that the disease, apparently hereditary, 
 was aggravated to such an extent, that the only possible 
 refuge was found in the consumption — sometimes in enor- 
 mous quantities — of opium. 
 
 Bitter as these experiences were to the boy himself, painful 
 as were the consequenceg in after years, they have served to 
 enrich English literature with some of its most magnificent 
 "impassioned prose." Without the sufferings, without the 
 opium, De Quincey 's contribution to literature might have 
 been as great as it is, might have been even greater ; but it 
 could not have been exactly the same. The boy of seventeen 
 assuredly " went down into hell " in those terrible London 
 
xii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 days, and he carried with him through life an ever present 
 remembrance of that vision of darkness visible.* 
 
 At last an accidental encounter with a relation restored 
 him for a while to his family, and, in 1803, he was %ent to 
 Oxford, and matriculated at "Worcester College. 
 
 At Oxford he remained — apparently — till 1807, when, in 
 the midst of his final examination, and with the certainty 
 of a triumphant success before him, he suddenly and un- 
 accountably left. 
 
 While at Oxford, in addition to the prescribed course of 
 Latin and Greek, De Quincey had further pursued his 
 studies in EngUsh literature, had mastered German, and had ; 
 plunged into German metaphysics. It was also during i 
 1 the Oxford period that De Quincey first learnt to take 
 opium. 
 
 At the age of twenty-one he had entered upon a moderate 
 fortune, and was under no necessity of working for his living. 
 Accordingly, for two years, he seems to have moved hither 
 and thither as his fancy bade him. Sometimes he is 
 to be found in London, sometimes in the Lake Country, 
 sometimes in Bath and the "West of England. He had 
 made the acquaintance of various men of letters ; amongst 
 these the most conspicuous were Charles Lamb, Coleridge, 
 Wordsworth, Southey, and John Wilson. 
 
 In 1809 he took up his abode at Grasmere in Westmore- 
 land, in a cottage recently vacated by Wordsworth. This 
 cottage remained his home for twenty-one years. 
 
 About four years afterwards, a pecuniary calamity, the 
 nature of which is nowhere definitely stated, fell upon 
 De Quincey. He appears to have been partially reUeved 
 by the liberality of the Colonel Penson already mentioned. 
 Simultaneously, his constitutional malady induced him to 
 resort to excessive opium-eating. It was at this time, he 
 tells us, that he became a " regular and confirmed opium- 
 
 * Compare Carlyle's recollection of him : — " Blue-eyed, blonde- 
 haired, sparkling face, — had there not been a something, too, which 
 said, ' JEccovi, this child has been in Hell.'" — Carlyle's Reminiscences, 
 ed. Norton, ii. 163. 
 
THOMAS DE QUINCEY. xiii 
 
 eater." His worst experience, however, of the " pains of 
 opium " was to follow some years later. 
 
 Meantime the metaphysical studies went on ; and a great 
 work on ethics shadowed itself in his mind — never to be 
 realised. In these years he seems to have visited London 
 occasionally, and was once in Edinburgh, where the last 
 years. of his life were to be spent. Still, De Quincey is 
 merely a scholar ; a student known to some eminent persons 
 as a man of extensive information and wide reading, and as 
 a very brilliant talker : to the outside world not known at 
 aU. 
 
 In 1816 De Quincey married. His wife was a Miss 
 Margaret Simpson, daughter of a Westmoreland farmer, or 
 " statesman." She bore him eight children, five of whom 
 survived him. She herself died in 1837. The marriage 
 appears to have been in every respect a happy one — save 
 for the opium spell ; for, soon afterwards, there followed an 
 outburst of opium-eating. De Quincey was utterly in- 
 capacitated from all work, wound round, as he describes it, 
 by some " Circeau spell." He was visited nightly by the 
 most fearful dreams. He dreaded the night; for night 
 brought sleep, and sleep brought the dreams. These 
 dreams play a great part in De Quincey's impassioned 
 imaginative writings. Especially has he described them in 
 the Confessions, and, in what more particularly concerns us 
 here, in The Glory of Motion and the Dream Fugue. It is 
 to be noticed that this is the period in which occurred the 
 incident related in The Vision of Sudden Death* 
 
 Erom this " Circean spell " De Quincey was liberated in a 
 somewhat curious fashion. He chanced upon the writings of 
 the economist, David Eicardo, and conceived an extraordinary 
 enthusiasm for Eicardo and his gospel : he even projected 
 a great work himself upon the same subject. This work 
 was destined never to . see the light. Instead of it we have, 
 at intervals, various essays on Political Economy, being 
 
 * lu a long paper. Dr. W. C. B. Eatwell maintains that De Quincey 
 cannot be called an opium-eater in the ordina:-y sense of the word. 
 Opium-eating was no indulgence with him, but a sheer necessity. 
 
xiv INTRODUCTION. 
 
 chiefly elucidations and expositions of Ricardo's theories, 
 particularly of his theory of Value. These essays, however, 
 were still in the future. 
 
 Meantime necessity drove De Quincey to write. In 1819 
 he obtained the editorship of the Westmoreland Gazette, a 
 newly established paper. After a year he resigned the 
 appointment, and in 1820 was in Edinburgh, looking for 
 work in connection with the Magazines. 
 
 But it was London, not Edinburgh, in which De 
 Quincey was to make his first appearance as a literary power 
 of unquestioned importance. In 1821, in The London 
 Magazine, there appeared The Confessions of an English 
 Opium-Eater.* The London Magazine at this time numbered 
 amongst its contributors several who have since taken their 
 places amongst the immortals. Month by month were 
 appearing the Elia Essays of Charles Lamb. Keats had 
 sent verses ; Hood was a sort of sub-editor ; and Carlyle was 
 publishing in separate parts his first considerable work, The 
 Life of Friedrich Schiller. 
 
 The Confessions achieved an immediate success. Had 
 the popularity obtained by writings of the kind equalled 
 in extent the popularity of a successful novel of to-day, De 
 Quincey 's fortune would have been made. As it was, he 
 could henceforth rely upon steady work from the editors 
 of magazines. Accordingly from this date, almost to his 
 death, each year bears with it its quota of periodical literature 
 from De Quincey's pen. He wrote, as has been said, on 
 almost every conceivable subject. Little, therefore, is gained 
 by cataloguing his essays, nor is it easy to single out a few 
 for special mention ; since, although some certainly are either 
 slight in aim or not very successful in result, the large 
 majority, both as regards matter and manner, possess great 
 importance. A glance at the contents of the fourteen 
 volumes, foriping Masson's new and admirable edition of his 
 
 * The Confessions appeared in The London in three parts ; these were 
 published in book form in 1822. In 1856 De Quincey increased this 
 book to nearly three times its original size, for Hogg's Collective 
 Edition. 
 
THOMAS DE QUINCE Y. xv 
 
 works, will impress us sufficiently with the wide range of De 
 Quincey's contribution to literature. 
 
 At first The London Magazine received most of his work. 
 Then, in 1826, he began to contribute to the Edinburgh 
 periodical, Blackwood's Magazine. From that time Edin- 
 burgh, and, occasionally, Glasgow, gave his writings to the 
 world ; and De Quincey, without a particle of Scotch blood in 
 his composition, or of Scotch feeling in his heart, takes his 
 place amongst the Scotch literati. 
 
 In 1830 De Quincey finally severed his connection with 
 the Lakes, and took up his abode permanently in, or in the 
 vicinity of, Edinburgh. 
 
 In 1837 the Revolt of the Tartars appeared in Blackwood, 
 and in 1849 the English Mail Coach was contributed to the 
 same magazine. Besides his work for Blackwood, De Quincey 
 wrote a number of articles for Tait's Magazine, and afterwards 
 for Hogg's Instructor, and contributed several biographies to 
 the Encyclopcedia Britannica. 
 
 About 1851, De Quincey being between sixty and seventy 
 years of age, Mr. Hogg, the proprietor of The Instructor, 
 conceived the idea of publishing an edition of De Quincey's 
 collected works. An American publisher had anticipated 
 him. De Quincey was induced to fall in with the scheme, 
 and from this time to his death, he was mainly occupied 
 in collecting, revising, and enlarging his widely-scattered 
 writings. Thirteen volumes appeared during his life, and 
 the fourteenth, prepared by himself, in the year following 
 his death.* 
 
 Meanwhile, De Quincey's family was breaking up. His 
 wife had died in 1837 ; of his five sons three were dead and 
 the other two abroad j two of his three daughters were 
 
 * The first collected edition contained fourteen volumes. lu 1863 
 the copyright passed to Messrs A. & C. Black, who issued a fifteenth 
 volume, and a sixteenth in 1871. In 1889-1890 Masson's fourteen 
 volume edition appeared. This contains all that the sixteen volume 
 edition contained, and some other pieces, together with highly useful 
 notes and introductory essays. A few later De Quincey papers have 
 heen published by Mr. T. Hogg in his "Uncollected Writings of 
 Thomas De Quincey," and a few more are still uncollected. 
 
 b 
 
3cvi INTRODUCTION. 
 
 married ; the youngest, Emily, lived generally either with 
 her married sister in Ireland or in De Quincey's cottage at 
 Lasswade, near Edinburgh. De Quiucey himself, in order to 
 be within convenient reach of the press, had found it 
 necessary to take rooms in Edinburgh itself ; and he passed 
 his time between the Lasswade cottage and the Edinburgh 
 rooms. Latterly, however, he was compelled to live almost 
 entirely in Edinburgh, and there, in his lodgings at 42 
 Lothian Street, on the 8th of January 1859, he died. Two 
 of his daughters were with him to the end, and one of them 
 has told the story of her father's last hours.* 
 
 II. DE QUINCEY'S WRITINGS. 
 
 In considering the contribution of De Quincey to litera- 
 ture, the first thing that strikes us is the extraordinary 
 range and extent of his writings. A " polyhistor " Massoh 
 calls him: — one who knew and wrote about everything. 
 No eminent man of letters perhaps has ever come to his 
 task armed with so large an amount of information ; with 
 such wide-spread and minute knowledge of so many 
 subjects ; with such familiarity with so many branches of 
 literature. De Quincey gives us the impression of having 
 been a specialist in everything, and in everything at the 
 same time. In history he is equally at home in ancient, 
 mediseval, and modern ages ; and he writes, and writes 
 learnedly, as one thoroughly acquainted with original 
 authorities and the latest modern theories. He travels not 
 only over the highways of history, but also in the byways. 
 He can discourse not only on Herodotus and Tacitus and 
 Michelet, on Cicero and Caesar and Joan of Arc, but on 
 such out of the way subjects as the Essenes and the Eosi- 
 cruoians, and such minute archaeological topics as Eoman 
 dinners and breakfasts, and the toilette of a Hebrew lady. 
 In the literatures of Greece and Rome he was a finished 
 
 * See Japj), Tie Quincey's Life mid Writings, pp. 450-451. 
 
DE Q UlNCE Y'S WRITINGS. xvii 
 
 scholar, as his essays on Homer, on Herodotus, on Greek 
 tragedy, on Style and Ehetoric, abundantly show. In 
 modern European literature he shows thfe same amazing 
 omniscience; he writes of German poets and philosophers 
 and literati, — he has not even neglected obscure German 
 novelists; he is familiar with the classics of France and 
 Spain ; he has mastered Danish, and can prove the Danish 
 origin of the lake-country dialect. His knowledge of 
 English literature is minute and profound, and there is 
 hardly a great or even second-rate English writer with 
 whose works he does not show himself thoroughly familiar. 
 He knows the literature of the past, and he keeps pace with 
 the literature of the present. He was one of the first who 
 brought English readers acquainted with German thought 
 and German literature ; he translates pieces of varying 
 importance from Kant, Eiehter, Tieck, as well as from 
 others whose names are less familiar. He has wandered 
 far into the deep forests of philosophy : he expounds Kant 
 and criticises Plato. Science, too, is not neglected. Political 
 Economy was for a while a specially cultivated field ; he has 
 papers on the theory of statescraf t, as well as on contemporary 
 and practical politics : he was a gladiator in the arena of 
 theological controversy. He writes biographies of eminent 
 persons of the past, and reminiscences of eminent con- 
 temporaries ; he wrote one novel and several shorter tales — 
 one of especial excellence. And there remains besides, his 
 "impassioned prose" — of which branch of literature he 
 declares himself the solitary exponent — ^his Confessions, 
 his English Mail Coach, and his Suspiria de Profundis. 
 Moreover, his works teem with allusions and references to 
 every branch of knowledge, and his footnotes often bear 
 evidence of much exact scholarship and much curious 
 research. 
 
 Such then, roughly, are the contents of De Quincey's 
 " hundred and fifty magazine articles. " And, if there is variety 
 in the subject, so also, in the same degree, is there variety in 
 the treatment. De Quincey rhore than once insists upon 
 a distinction between what he calls the Literature of Power 
 
xviii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 and the Literature of Knowledge. The second seeks merely to 
 instruct — (he instances a cookery book); the first seeks to 
 move — (he instances Milton's Paradise Lost). The cookery 
 hook aims at teaching us something new in every paragraph : 
 Paradise Lost teaches us nothing ; its greatness consists in 
 its power to move. The literature of knowledge appeals 
 simply to the intellectual faculties ; the literature of power 
 to the emotions. 
 
 Upon some such distinction, De Quincey attempted a 
 classification of his own works. He added, however, a third 
 class, a class which, seeking in the first place merely to 
 amuse or interest the reader, rises, nevertheless, at times into 
 the character of "impassioned prose ; '' that is, into the litera- 
 ture of power. 
 
 De Quincey 's distinction is a useful one for several pur- 
 poses, but it fails as a basis on which to classify his own 
 writings ; or, indeed, the writings of any other master of prose. 
 The literature of power, pure and simple, — that literature 
 from which the idea of instruction is entirely absent, is 
 limited almost entirely to poetry, and, perhaps, pvose fiction : 
 the literatureof knowledge, pure and simple, — literature which 
 entirely abstains from all attempts to move, is limited per- 
 haps altogether to dictionaries and technical manuals. 
 Wherever a work rises to eloquence, pathos, figurativeness, 
 style, in short, there we have the literature of power, though 
 the primary object may have been to instruct. 
 
 Accordingly, Professor Masson, in his recent edition of De 
 Quincey's Works, for the most part discards classification 
 according to treatment, and proceeds merely upon the com- 
 moner basis of subject. Nevertheless, it is well to bear in 
 mind De Quincey's distinction, for, though it is impossible to 
 rank all his writings under one or the other head, the distinc- 
 tion illustrates certain very marked qualities of De Quincey's 
 mind. These qualities, as Dr Japp has pointed out, are : — 
 (1) the logical, analytic faculty; and (2) the dreaming or 
 purely imaginative faculty. Wide apart as these mental 
 characteristics appear to be, they exist side by side in De 
 Quincey : in both he excels. He is amongst the acutest of 
 
DE QUINCE Y'S WRITINGS. xix 
 
 reasoners ; lie is amongst the most sublimely passionate of 
 rhapsodists. 
 
 Either faculty, it is true, has a dangerous tendency. The 
 dreamy, imaginative propensity comes at times perilously 
 near to morbid introspection ; to an effeminacy of over-refined 
 sensibility : the logical, argumentative propensity leads not 
 seldom to " hair-splitting," — to what Carlyle called " wire- 
 drawn ingenuity." 
 
 Let us now very briefly glance at ■ De Quincey's contribu- 
 tion to literature under the following heads : — (1) literary 
 criticism ; (2) speculative writings ; (3) history ; (4) auto- 
 biography ; (5) biography ; (6) political papers ; (7) purely 
 imaginative prose ; (8) novels and tales ; (9) humorous writ- 
 ings. 
 
 (1) De Quincey's literary criticism is very valuable. His 
 immense knowledge of literature, ancient and modern, his 
 amazing memory, his keen analytic power and minute observa- 
 tion, give especial weight to his critical utterances. He is ad- 
 mirably free from all conventional and insincere enthusiasm. 
 He refuses to accept on faith the superiority of Greek 
 and Roman over modern literature, merely because few 
 critics before him had ventured to deny it : he examines 
 both on their own merits, and often decides in favour of the 
 moderns, even when pitted against such claims as those of 
 Homer and Demosthenes. Again, he is quick to detect and 
 expose any fallacy of traditiona,l criticism, criticism which 
 has acquired through age a certain venerableness. His 
 masterly examination of Pope's claims to " correctness," and 
 of Homer's claim (in any transcendent degree) to sublimity, 
 may serve as examples. 
 
 Lastly, his taste is, on the whole, decidedly cathoHc. 
 There was, perhaps, a tendency amongst those of De Quincey's 
 contemporaries whom he most admired — "Wordsworth, 
 Coleridge (the so-called Lakists)^to depreciate the poets 
 of the Annian Era and all their works. De Quincey, on 
 the other hand, is remarkably just to those writers, and has 
 
XX INTRODUCTION. 
 
 done much, to draw attention to the qualities in which they 
 really excelled. Nevertheless, De Quincey has his own pre- 
 judices, and few competent judges have followed him in his 
 depreciation of Plato and of Goethe. 
 
 (2) De Quincey's speculative writings are often subtle 
 and immensely " clever," but are, perhaps, not marked by 
 any special depth. He seldom cares to go to the root of a 
 matter, to dive down to great imderlying principles. In 
 fact, he appears to have no great strength of opinion on 
 matters of vital importance. He expresses his adherence 
 to certain great causes and systems of belief, often with 
 considerable vehemence ; but it is not these that he is at 
 pains to reason upon. A brilliant controversialist, he has 
 small claim to be regarded as a great thinker. 
 
 (3) In his Historical Essays he is hardly at his best, if we 
 except the Revolt of the Tariars, which is, however, rather 
 to be regarded as a "study in historical narrative" than a 
 contribution to historical scholarship. De Quincey himself 
 divides historical literature into three classes : — (1) pure 
 narrative, i.e., a bare record of facts; (2) scenical history ; (3) 
 philosophical history.* Of the first class De Quincey natur- 
 ally has no example; the second is briUiantly exempUfied in the 
 Revolt of the Tartars, and in passages of Joan of Arc. To the 
 third class belong most of his historical papers, and here, as 
 Professor Masson points out, he has a tendency to " run to 
 points ;" to concentrate all interest upon some disputed matter, 
 often of comparatively trifling importance. Again, as a 
 "philosophical" historian, his prejudices frequently mar the 
 value of his work. In his enthusiasm for the purity of the 
 Christian religion, in his belief in Christianity as a civilising 
 agency, he wiU allow nothing good in pre-Christian or non- 
 Christian civilisations. He does scant justice to Mahomet. 
 Greek and Eoman religions and systems of thought he is 
 inclined to unite in one sweeping condemnation. Of the 
 contribution of old Norse paganism to modern European 
 civilisation ; of that northern character stamped upon 
 Northern Europe before the advent of Christianity, he 
 
 * JForks, ed. Masson, Vol. V. p. 354. 
 
DE QUINCBY'S WRITINGS. xxi 
 
 seems never to have heard. Nevertheless, where these pre- 
 judices do not intervene, as in the paper on Herodotus, the 
 estimate of Julius Csesar, and in several other papers, De 
 Quincey's historical writings are really valuable, and are of 
 course, always ingenious and interesting. 
 
 (4) The autobiographical sketches of De Quincey contain 
 some of his noblest imaginative work — imaginative, not in 
 the sense of being fictitious, but in its power to invest the 
 external facts of life with a certaui spiritual or transcen- 
 dental significance. Amongst such writings, most notable 
 are The Confessions of an English Opium-Eater, and the piece 
 which now forms the second chapter of the Autobiography, 
 and is entitled The Affliction of Childhood. 
 
 (5) The Biographical Essays are of two sorts : — First, 
 sketches and reminiscences of interesting and important 
 people whom the writer had known personally, such as 
 Wordsworth, Coleridge, Southey, Charles Lamb, Professor 
 WUson, and others; secondly, biographies which may be 
 called historical, such as those of Charlemagne, Joan of 
 Arc, Shakespeare, Milton, Bentley, Kant, &c. These last 
 are of varying value and have varying claims to rank as com- 
 plete accounts of the subjects they deal with. The paper on 
 Richard Bentley, however, is of very considerable importance. 
 For the rest, what has been said of the characteristics of De 
 Quincey's historical writings applies equally to his historical 
 biography. 
 
 The portraits of his own contemporaries are marked by a 
 keen and shrewd penetration, and are apparently very just. 
 These papers are at times very amusing, and abound in 
 dehghtful anecdotage ; but at times they descend almost to 
 the level of gossip; and prattle about dull, insignificant 
 people whom there was no necessity to remember at all. 
 It is, again, in the biographies, that De Quincey's sin of 
 digression is most apparent. But on this point we shall 
 afterwards have more to say. 
 
 (6) The few papers on current politics which De Quincey 
 has left, such as his essay on China and the opium trade, 
 are marked by a masculine vigour of reasoning and clear 
 
xxii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 common sense, which we should hardly expect from a 
 dreamer of dreams and a visionary. 
 
 (7) Of the purely imaginative work, other than appears 
 in the autobiographical writings, the student has good 
 examples in parts of Going down vMh Victm'y, The Vision of 
 Sudden Death, and the entire Dream Fugue. But, without 
 doubt, Professor Masson is right when he says of the fragment 
 entitled Levana and Our Ladies of Sorroio, that it is as 
 noble as anything De Quincey ever wrote. " It is prose 
 " poetry," he adds ; " but it is more ; it is a permanent addi- 
 " tion to the mythology of the human race." It is indeed 
 
 ( one of the most flawless pieces of writing in the whole field 
 I of English literature. 
 
 (8) Amongst De Quincey 's tales Klosterheim is the longest, 
 but the admirable Spanish Militai-y Nun will, perhaps, best 
 reward the reader. In it the interest is sustained throughout, 
 and there is an ever-present vein of kindly, half-tender 
 humour, which is not generally characteristic of De 
 Quincey. The other tales, not counting translations, tend 
 very much to the horrible.* 
 
 ~ It remains to speak of De Quincey's humour. There 
 are several papers of his which are entirely humorous, which 
 have been written with the sole intention of amusing. Of 
 these the finest specimen is undoubtedly Murder considered 
 as One of the Fine Arts, in which a gruesome subject is made 
 the occasion of the wildest and most reckless merriment. But 
 humour of a peculiar kind is scattered throughout a very 
 large part of De Quincey's works. Of this humour two 
 features call for especial attention : — (1) It is eminently a 
 scholar's humour ; scholarly, not in treatment, but in subject. 
 It delights De Quincey to draw upon his vast erudition for 
 the purpose of making boisterous fun of it. He loves, as 
 it were, to cut ridiculous capers in the groves of Academus. 
 
 * The Spanish Military Nun is a translation from the French " De 
 Quinceyfied," that is to say, the best and most prominent features 
 in it are the gift of the translator. One might, we imagine, venture 
 an assertion that the same is true of the ridiculous tale, " Mr 
 Shackenberger," said to be " from the German." The humour is all 
 De Quincey's own ; or there is a German De Quincey. 
 
DE QUINCE Y'S WRITINGS. xxiii 
 
 Several instances of this occur in Tlie English Mail Goaali. 
 Galileo, Lord Macartney's embassy to China, the French 
 Ee volution, ancient ethical systems (" Come to bribery, say 
 " we, and there's an end to all morality, Aristotle's, Zeno's, 
 " Cicero's or anybody's "), Van Troll's Iceland, Virgil's 
 yEneid, Marengo, the Treason Laws, Ulysses' bow, Jus 
 Dominii, the Cyclops — these in the course of a few pages 
 afford food for various mirth. Elsewhere we have much 
 playing with the transcendental philosophy in connection 
 with an absurd eulogy of Westmoreland sheep : the most 
 erudite illustrations are employed in the lecture on Murder 
 as a Fine Art; — ^the Jewish Sicarii, Aristotle, Descartes, 
 Spinoza. Classical poetry, ancient and modern, comes in use- 
 ful at other times; and we have quotations burlesqued and 
 introduced with the happiest incongruity. 
 
 (2) De Quincey's humour is utterly extravagant ; it 
 deUghts in whimsical exaggeration and huge caricature : often 
 as not, it is mere roUicking fun — a sort of schoolboy horseplay. 
 He is reviewing, for instance, a Hterary history by a grave 
 German Professor, and he hails his author after this fashion : 
 — "Now, Mr Schlosser, I have mended your harness: aU 
 " right ahead ; so drive on once more. But, oh ! Castor and 
 " PoUux, whither — in Avhat direction is it that the man is 
 " driving us ? Positively, Schlosser, you must stop and let me 
 " get out. I'U go no further with such a drunken coach- 
 " man." He salutes Josephus as " Mr. Jo " or plain " Jo : " 
 a bishop who writes on a theological subject under the noin 
 de plume, " PhUeleutherus Anglicanus," he calls "Phil" 
 through a whole paper, and dubs himself " Philo-phil " or 
 " Phil-phU." He frequently uses slang — "0 crimini," "fash," 
 " the old boy's hoofs," " spanking," &c., &c. Again, he is 
 sometimes utterly irreverent, especially with regard to themes 
 usually referred to with veneration, or, at least, becomiag 
 seriousness. Here is a passing allusion to the death of 
 Socrates : — " Two centuries before the Christian Era, a 
 " favourable opinion upon a man or a family from the Oracle 
 " of Delphi was almost equal to a friendly review at present 
 " in the London Quarterly. Perhaps the Delphic concern 
 
xxiv INTRODUCTION. 
 
 " never rose exactly to the level of tlie London Times. 
 
 " Spenser notices that, after all, 
 
 ' Kot to have been dipped in Lethe's flood 
 Could save the son of Thetis from to die,' 
 
 " UTTO Tov Ov^tj-Kfiv. And so neither could a first-class esti- 
 " mate of Socrates by the venerable, but palsy-stricken Oracle 
 " of Delphi, save that cunning and libidinous old feUow 
 " from to die by hemlock. Laudator et alget : the wicked old 
 " man finds his vanity tickled, but his feet getting rigid and 
 " cold." 
 
 Nevertheless, his humour is often delightfully playful. 
 The writer is not seldom his own butt, and plays with 
 his own shortcomings and eccentricities in a very charm- 
 ing fashion. The papers on Sortilege and Astrology and 
 The Antigone of Sophocles afford very pleasing specimens 
 of this. 
 
 It is not the highest form of humour, this of De Quincey 
 — far from it. Not the humour of Shakespeare, the humour 
 which Carlyle says, " has justly been regarded as the finest 
 " perfection of the poetic genius ; " the humour which " sees 
 " common life, even mean life, under the new light of sport- 
 " fulness and love : " not the humour of Charles Lamb at his 
 best, the humour which, in the fine phrase of a critic, is near 
 akin to "an acute and painful sympathy :" not the humour 
 of Carlyle himself, a humour which serves but as a cloak 
 for a passionate earnestness which, in its nakedness, would be 
 almost unendurable : it is the humour, on the whole, of 
 pure nonsense, the nonsense which De Quincey somewhere 
 tells us was so " congenial to himself, to John Wilson and 
 to Charles Lamb " (we see it in Lamb's letters) ; and it is a 
 very acceptable kind of humour after all, more especially as it 
 is entirely innocent. It would indeed require a " morbidly 
 virtuous person " to be really shocked even at the astounding 
 " William's lecture " on Murder. 
 
 Sometimes, however, it is a little forced and heavy, and — 
 which is a more serious fault — it sins against the law of 
 harmony, and somewhat jars upon the reader, when it seems 
 to intrude in incongruous places. 
 
DE QUINCE Y'S WRITINGS. xxv 
 
 It is a common charge against De Quincey that he, more 
 than any other writer of eminence, digresses on the slightest 
 provocation from the subject in hand. And this charge it 
 would riot be easy successfully to refute. But De Quincey 's 
 discursiveness differs from that of Mrs. Mckleby. De 
 Quincey is quite aware of it, points it out often enough, and, 
 to the readers of those magazine articles of his who still 
 objected, he would probably have answered after the manner 
 of Chaucer : — 
 
 "And therefore who so list it nat to heere, 
 Turn over the leef, and cheese another tale." 
 
 We must take De Quincey as we find him ; for, though 
 abnormally discursive, he is seldom tedious. Nevertheless, 
 these digressions are at times, it must be confessed, annoying. 
 If the subject in itself, for its own sake, has for the reader 
 a peculiar interest, apart from his appreciation of De 
 Quincey's treatment of any subject, he may be incUned to 
 resent De Quincey's flying off on the shghtest occasion to 
 another topic, only indirectly, or perhaps scarcely at aU, 
 connected with the matter in hand. For example ; if the 
 subject be Charles Lamb, most readers wiU feel that Charles 
 Lamb is far too interesting a personality to be made a mere 
 peg on which to hang De Quincey's views of things in 
 general ; and yet the two papers on Lamb are each of them 
 marred by extremely long digressions upon subjects as little 
 related to " EHa " as anything well could be. 
 
 De Quincey's tendency to digress does not confine itself 
 to discursiveness on a large scale. He is also apt to admit 
 extraneous matter into the body of his paragraphs and even 
 sentences. A good instance of this is pointed out in 
 the notes to the present edition. It occurs in The Vision of 
 Sudden Death, p. 163. The causes o'f this habit of over- 
 loading his writings with matter hardly bearing upon the 
 principal theme, are mainly, no doubt : (1) the astonishing 
 amount of multifarious information which De Quincey 
 always carried with him; (2) his passion, already mentioned, 
 
xxvi INTRODUCTION. 
 
 for " making points," drawing subtle distinctions, and con- 
 futing current errors. The opportunity occurs, and De 
 Quincey cannot refrain from seizing it. 
 
 Often the extraneous matter is relegated to a footnote. 
 Footnotes are a prominent feature in De Quincey's writings. 
 They are frequently inordinately long; they are generally 
 but remotely connected with the text; they are generally 
 highly instructive or extremely amusing. But it must he 
 admitted that they sometimes seriously interfere with a 
 proper enjoyment of the text. To he pulled up suddenly 
 in the middle of a sentence — a sentence perhaps of singular 
 pathos or dignity — and to find a long excursus on some 
 point of etymology, or an exposition of the correct meaning 
 of some word popularly misappHed, is a little exasperating. 
 But the reader has an easy remedy. Let him ignore all 
 reference numbers, let him finish the text, and afterwards 
 go back to the footnotes. 
 
 De Quincey once quotes with approval a saying of 
 Wordsworth's to the effect that " style is the incarnation of 
 thought." Carlyle, in his own peculiar fashion, said much 
 the same when, in defence of those mannerisms which at 
 one time gave so much offence, he declared that a style 
 was not to be put off and put on like a coat ; it was rather 
 a skin — " a skin, really a product and close kinsfellow of all 
 " that lies under it ; exact type of the nature of the beast, not 
 " to be plucked off without flaying and death." The character 
 of any man's literary style is solely determined by the 
 character of his mental and emotional qualities : as he 
 thinks and feels, so, inevitably, he wiU write. Hence, in 
 speaking of De Quincey's range of subject and mode of 
 thought and opinion, we have already seen some of the 
 chief features of his style. 
 
 As variety is one of the most striking characteristics of 
 De Quincey's literary work, so is it of his style. There 
 are some styles — excellent in their way — which move 
 always in the same narrow channel, which seem able to 
 express but one dominant vein of thought and emotion. De 
 
DE QUINCE Y'S WRITINGS. xxvii 
 
 Quincey's style is not of these. It has, of course, its own 
 striking quaUties ; but it has little or nothing of mannerism. 
 It is an instrument of many varying tones, capable of 
 expressing many varying shades of emotion ; an instrument, 
 moreover, under the most perfect control, as an organ 
 beneath the touch of a master musician. For, as De Quincey 
 began his career as man of letters with a fuU equipment of 
 knowledge and definitely formed opinions and definite lines 
 of thought, so also, from the first, he was a finished master of 
 literary expression. He is never hesitating or weak. He 
 kiiows exactly what he wishes to say; he knows how to 
 say it as well as it can be said. 
 
 Again, we have seen that one of the predominant qualities 
 of De Quincey's mind is his keen intellectuality. Of 
 necessity his style bears the exact impress of his mind. 
 "The style of De Quincey," says Professor Masson, in a 
 passage of masterly criticism, "is prevailingly intellectual. 
 
 "It is a beautiful style," he goes on, "uniquely 
 
 " De Quincey's, the characteristic of which, in its more level 
 " and easy specimens, is intellectual nimbleness, a light pre- 
 " cision and softness of spring ; while, in the higher specimens, 
 " where the movement becomes more involved and intricately 
 " rhythmical, there is still the same sense of a leisurely intel- 
 " lectual instinct rather than glow and rapture, as regulating 
 " the feat." Intellect, keen understanding, exact discrimina- 
 tion, these are the characteristics of De Quincey's style, 
 whatever be the theme, whether the language employed be 
 studiously simple or studiously ornate. 
 
 De Quincey's style, again, is an instrument of great 
 power; but his power comes not from the strength of a 
 fierce moral conviction or earnestness of behef. Impassioned 
 he is at times, keenly sensible to all impressions that are 
 subhme, or beautiful, or terrible, or awful ; his pathos, too, is 
 genuinely sincere ; but he is never the preacher or prophet. 
 His language is the language of the scholar, the critic, 
 or the master-artist ; never that of the " teacher." Perhaps, 
 in his more ambitious writings, the art-quaUty is sometimes 
 too apparent ; but that, necessarily, is not a fault in the style, 
 
xxviii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 but of the underlying nature of which the style is but the 
 outer embodiment. 
 
 According to Professor Minto, De Quincey's vocabulary 
 is particularly large. He uses a much larger proportion of 
 Eomance than of Teutonic wordSjUot from any preference, but 
 because the fuller sounding Latin words generally suit his 
 purpose best. , He is peculiarly careful in his use of words ; 
 solicitous that the word should always carry its exact 
 scholarly sense. He is careful of euphony too, with the 
 anxiety of a keenly sensitive ear. He shuns religiously all 
 vestige of what he calls " cacophony," — awkward repetition 
 of the same sounds, and so on. 
 
 Melody is a special feature in all his writings. He is 
 amongst the most musical of prose-writers. He prefers, m 
 his higher flights, the periodic structure of sentence ; long, 
 swelling harmonies, intricate "evolution," and magnificent 
 cadences. He has many passages of noble and sustained 
 eloquence. In this respect he has been compared to Milton. 
 Euskin, among modern authors, when writing at a white 
 heat, excels in the same qualities of eloquence. De 
 Quincey, however, is simple and direct when it suits his 
 purpose. He uses periods, as he uses Latin words, when the 
 theme seems to demand a stately elaborate diction ; not 
 otherwise. 
 
 That De Quincey took great pains to polish his writings 
 is evident, not only from explicit utterances of his own, but 
 from a comparison of his essays as they originally appeared 
 in the magazmes, with the same after having undergone 
 revision at the author's hand. Alterations — many of them 
 the minutest — frequently occur, with a view to improving 
 a phrase in exactness of meaning or in sound. He was, as 
 has been said, a thorough artist, and he worked in the spirit 
 of an artist. 
 
 - De Quincey is, as might be expected, one of the most 
 correct of writers, scrupulously exact in limiting, with 
 necessary quaUfications, every statement he makes or opinion 
 he commits himself to. Neither can it be said of him that 
 he takes any liberties with grammar. 
 
THE REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 
 
 III. THE REVOLT OF THE TAETAES. 
 
 This essay appeared originally in Blackwood's Magazine 
 for July 1837. It was afterwards, in 1854, reprinted in 
 Vol. IV. of the CoEected Edition, " with sHght verbal 
 alterations." In the same volume The English Mail Coach 
 is to be found. In Masson's edition the Revolt of the Tartars 
 appears amongst the " Historical Essays," Vol. VII. 
 
 De Quincey's chief authority for the facts related in the 
 present narrative was, as he himself tells us,* the German 
 writer Berginann.f Another account of the Revolt exists, 
 written by the Chinese Emperor, Kien-Long. This was 
 translated by the French iTesuit Missionaries in China in 
 Vol. I. of their MSmoires concernant les Chinois, under 
 the title, Monument de la Transmigration des Tourgouths 
 des Bords de la Mer Gaspienne dans V Empire de la Chine. 
 This account, — or, at least, part of it — ^De Quincey had 
 read in a French translation of Bergmann's book. To the 
 Emperor's Memoir, the French Jesuit, Pere Amiot, added 
 a comment by a Chinese Mandarin, Yu-min-tchoung. De 
 Quincey quotes from both of these sources (pp. 52, 53) ; 
 the first quotation is from the Emperor's account, the second 
 from the Mandarin's note. Further quotations from Kien- 
 Long's narrative wiU be found in the extract from MUner's 
 Russia, printed as an appendix to the present Ifotes. 
 
 Mr Masson, in his Editorial Note to this essay, points out 
 several discrepancies between De Quincey's narrative and the 
 Chinese account : — (1) De Quincey says that the Chinese 
 Emperor himself was the first to descry the approach of the 
 Tartar host ; the Emperor's own words implicitly contradict 
 
 * Collected Works, ed. Masson, Vol. VI., p. 88. 
 
 t Vermeh zur Geschichte der Kalmiiken FlueM von der Wolga. 
 
XXX INTRODUCTION. 
 
 this. (2) De Quincey's account of the raising of the com- 
 memoration monument (p. 56) is not in accordance with 
 the statement made by the Mandarin above mentioned, 
 whose words are as follows : — " The year of the arrival of 
 " the Tourgouths chanced to be precisely that in which the 
 " Emperor was celebrating the eightieth year of the age of his 
 " mother the Empress-Dowager. In memory of this happy 
 " day his Majesty had built on the mountain which shelters 
 " from the heat (Pi-chan-chan) a vast and magnificent mim 
 " in honour of the reunion of all the followers of Fo in one 
 " and the same worship ; it had just been completed when 
 " Oubacha and the other princes of his nation arrived at G^- 
 " hoi. In memory of an event which has contributed to 
 " make this same year famous in our annals, it has been his 
 " Majesty's wUl to erect in the same micu) a monument 
 " which should fix the epoch of the event and attest its 
 " authenticity ; — he himself composed the words for the 
 " monument and wrote the characters with his own hand. 
 " How small the number of persons that wiU have an oppor- 
 " tunity of seeing and reading this monument within the 
 " walls of the temple in which it is erected." 
 
 " Moreover," adds Masson, " the words of the monumental 
 " inscription, in De Quincey's copy of it, are hardly what 
 " Kien-Long would have written or could have authorised : 
 " — 'Wandering sheep who had strayed away from the 
 " Celestial Empire in the year 1616,' is the expression in 
 " De Quiiicey's copy for that original secession of the Tour- 
 " gouth Tartars from their eastern home on the Chinese 
 " borders for transference of themselves far west to Russia, 
 " which was repaired and compensated by their return in 
 " 1771, under their Khan Oubacha. As distinctly, on the 
 " other hand, the memoir of Kien-Long refers the date of 
 " the original secession to no further back than the reign of 
 " his own grandfather, the Emperor Kang-hi, when Ayuka, 
 " the grandfather of Oubacha, was Khan of the Tourgouths, 
 " and induced them to part company with their overbearing 
 " kinsmen the Eleuths, and seek refuge within the Russian 
 " territories on the Volga. In the comment of the Chinese 
 
THE REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. xxxi 
 
 " Mandarin on the imperial memoir, the time is more exactly 
 " indicated hy the statement that the Tourgouths had re- 
 ' ' mained ' more than seventy years in their Kussian settle- 
 " ments when Oubacha brought them back.' This would 
 " refer us to about 1700, or, at farthest, to between 1690 
 " and 1700, for the secession under Ayuka." 
 
 Masson explains these discrepancies by the fact that De 
 Quincey followed Bergmann, whose account " differs avowedly 
 from that of the Chinese Memoir." In Bergmann, 1616, and 
 not 1700, is the date assigned to the original secession of 
 the Tourgouths from the Chinese Empire. Mr Masson adds : 
 — " Though De Quincey keeps by Bergmann, when he pleases, 
 " he takes liberties with Bergmann too, intensifies Berg- 
 " mann's story throughout, and adds much to it for which 
 " there is little or no suggestion in Bergmann. For example, 
 " the incident which De Quincey introduces with such terrific 
 " effect as the closing catastrophe of the march of the fugi- 
 " tive Kalmucks before their arrival on the Chinese frontier, 
 " — the incident of their thirst-maddened rush into the 
 " waters of Lake Tengis, and their wallowing there in 
 " bloody struggle with their Bashkir pursuers, — has no basis 
 " in Bergmann other than a few slight and rather matter-of- 
 " fact sentences. As Bergmann himself refers here and 
 " there in his narrative to previous books, German or 
 " Eussian, for his authorities, it is just possible that De 
 " Quincey may have called some of these to his aid for any 
 '• intensification or expansion of Bergmann he thought neces- 
 " sary. My impression, however, is that he did nothing of 
 " the sort, but deputed any necessary increment of his Berg- 
 " mann materials to his own lively imagination." 
 
 The opinion expressed in the last sentence seems, although 
 Mr Masson evidently does not consider it so, a rather severe 
 comment upon De Quincey 's conception as to the obligations 
 imposed upon a writer of " authentic history " — so severe, ■ 
 that perhaps it ought to have been substantiated and 
 carried beyond the regions of " impressions " by a consulta- 
 tion of the authorities to which Bergmann refers. 
 
 We have seen that De Quincey's main — perhaps only — 
 
 c 
 
xxxii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 authority is Bergmann. Bergmann's main source of infor- 
 mation for the lirst part of the flight must have been 
 the papers of the Russian prisoner Weseloff. It is to 
 be noted that in De Quincey's narrative all detail ceases 
 exactly after the withdrawal of "Weseloff from the Tartar 
 host. The rest of the march — 2000 miles — is compressed 
 into a couple of paragraphs; and we have nothing but 
 generalities until we reach the " thirst-maddened rush into 
 the waters of Lake Tengis" — an incident for which, if 
 Masson's surmise be correct, De Quincey drew solely upon 
 his own imagination. 
 
 There is, however, a more important difference, and one 
 not noticed by Masson, between De Quincey's essay and 
 the Chinese narrative. This lies in the causes assigned for 
 the migration in either account. The Chinese Memoir, which 
 is followed by Milner (see Appendix to Notes), finds a sufficient 
 reason for the flight of the Tartars in their hatred of the 
 intolerable yoke of Russia. The Russians interfered with 
 the Tartar institutions and internal administration ; they 
 made excessive demands for military contingents ; they 
 meditated forcing agriculture upon a people devoted to a 
 pastoral form of life. The Tartars, moreover, had reason to 
 complain of acts of cruelty and oppression on the part of 
 individual Russian officials : and, above all, they dreaded 
 an attack upon their religion and a forcible conversion to 
 Christianity. These grounds of discontent De Quincey 
 merely touches upon, and then almost seems to dismiss 
 them as mere forgeries on the part of Zebek-Dorchi and 
 the Lama. Yet, surely some such assumption must be made 
 if we wish to account at all satisfactorily for the emigration 
 of a whole people under circumstances of so much difficulty 
 and danger. 
 
 The fact is, that this flight of the Kalmuck Tartars 
 was but one amidst many instances of a process at that 
 time steadily working, namely, the subjugation and reunion 
 of the Eleuth Tartar Tribes under the Imperial throne of 
 China. The work of subjugation had been begun by Kang- 
 hi, the grandfather of Kien-Long, by whom it was completed. 
 
THE REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. xxxiii 
 
 That an act of submission on the part of the Tourgouths had 
 been contemplated by the Chinese long before Zebek-Dorchi 
 began his career of intrigue, seems probable from the fact 
 that, in the years 1712-1715, Kang-hi sent a special embassy 
 under a Mandarin, Tu-lu-sin, to Ayuka, Khan of the Tour- 
 gouths.* 
 
 De Quincey, on the other hand, finds, as the whole cause 
 of the Eevolt, a most extraordinary, and, it must be confessed, 
 scarce-believable scheme of " triple revenge " on the part of 
 Zebek-Dorchi ; a " worm " who " ventures to assail the mighty 
 " Behemoth of Eussia ; " who instigates the Eussian inter- 
 ference which he afterwards denounces so vehemently ; who, 
 for purposes purely personal, wins over to his side the 
 head of the Tartar reUgion and the Khan of the Tour- 
 gouths, Oubacha (treated throughout as a mere tool and 
 puppet in Zebek-Dorchi's hands), and who, in a single 
 harangue, finds no difficulty in inducing a whole nation to 
 take, and take at once, a step involving the certainty of 
 immediate suffering, and holding out but a doubtful hope 
 of ultimate success. 
 
 Of course, from a dramatic, " scenical " point of view, the 
 story gains infinitely if we assume a purely personal agency 
 for the catastrophe. But is it probable, or even possible ? 
 Is the character of Zebek-Dorchi, with its stupendous piece 
 of complex wickedness, possible anywhere off the boards of 
 the melodramatic stage ? That Zebek-Dorchi was the main 
 instrument in the revolt, that without him it might not 
 have occurred, — at any rate just at that time, — is probable 
 enough ; but that a revolution so entirely national in its 
 character, in its avowed aim, in its realised result, should 
 have been occasioned entirely by the personal ambition 
 and resentment of a single unscrupulous man, seems to be 
 contradicted by all historical analogy and all human proba- 
 bility. Where is the evidence 1 To whom did Zebek-Dorchi 
 confide his intentions ? To whom did he make confession ? 
 There was simply no one to whom he could have dared to lay 
 
 * A full acoomit of this embassy was written by Tu-lu-Sin, and was 
 translated by Sir J. T. Staunton in 1821. 
 
xxxiv INTRO D UC TION. 
 
 bare his real motives, thoroughly selfish as they were. And 
 was the part played by Zebek-Dorchi a stupendous wicked- 
 ness at all ? Granted that he was the author of the Eevolt ; 
 was the Eevolt unjustifiable ? Were its results disastrous — at 
 least to the survivors and their descendants % De Quincey 
 himself admits that, in all respects save one, the Tourgouths 
 profited by the transference of their allegiance ; and that 
 one exception " the removal to an incalculable distance of 
 the chances of conversion to Christianity," would have been 
 regarded by themselves as the chiefest of their gains. Nay, 
 even here, judging from the story of the attempt to Chris- 
 tianise the Torgouths who were left behind, and its sup- 
 pression by the Russian Government (see Appendix to Notes), 
 it would appear that the chances of the conversion of the 
 Tartars to Christianity are not more remote under the rule 
 of the Celestial Emperor than they are beneath the sceptre 
 of the Christian Czar. 
 
 Zebek, it is true, plotted against the life of Oubacha — or, 
 at least, Weseloff' thought so. This, we would fancy, is no 
 rare crime amongst Tartar chiefs ; nor, in this case, would it 
 be regarded as a crime at all by any Tartar moral code, if 
 it be true that Oubacha was using his influence to bring 
 about a return to Eussian domination. 
 
 The Revolt of the Tartars has been justly admired by all 
 students of De Quincey. Professor Minto alludes to it as an 
 " example of sustained grandeur of narrative and description," 
 and points out how the writer " abstains from individual 
 " horrors, and raises the imagination to dwell with awe upon 
 " the passions raging through the strife." * Masson says : — 
 " There is no such vivid version of any such historical episode 
 " in all Gibbon, and possibly nothing truer essentially, after 
 " all, to the substance of the facts as they actually happened.''! 
 And again, alluding to De Quincey's tendency in his histori- 
 cal papers " to run to disputed or momentous ' points ' and 
 " concentrate the attention on these," he adds, " No exception 
 
 * Minto, Manual of English Prose Literature. 
 
 tMassou's edition of De Quincey's Works, Vol. VII., p. 10. 
 
THE REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. xxxv 
 
 " of the kind, indeed, can be taken to his Revolt of the Tartars, 
 which is a noble effort of historical painting, done with a 
 " sweep and breadth of poetic imagination, entitling it, though 
 " a history, to rank also among his prose-phantasies."* Such 
 verdicts leave little room for dissent. From beginning to end 
 the attention of the reader is concentrated upon the develop- 
 ment of the main action ; absolute clearness is attained 
 by the admirable arrangement of the paragraph structure ; 
 and the key to the contents of each paragraph is generally 
 struck in the opening sentence. There are no digressions 
 — a circumstance so rare with De Quincey as to be almost 
 unique : nor is the mind unduly diverted from the steady 
 sweep of the narrative by elaborate comparisons or forced 
 comments. There are but few footnotes — another rare 
 occurrence — and these neither long nor off the point. 
 
 The strength of the essay results rather from the general 
 impression conveyed by the whole, than from any particular 
 splendoiir in individual passages. In this circumstance 
 again, the Revolt of the Tartars contrasts with many of De 
 Quincey's writings, where unusual care is lavished upon 
 particular passages which rise high above the level of the 
 rest in gorgeousness of imagery and in the musical swell of 
 period upon period. And here De Quincey shows art ; 
 his aim is to show the spectacular grandeur of the whole ; 
 he refuses to sacrifice the general effect to any of the parts. 
 Another point to be noticed is the total absence of the 
 element of humour, which elsewhere in De Quincey so 
 often obtrudes unexpectedly, and, it may be said, unhar- 
 moniously. This is a distinct merit. 
 
 The Revolt of the Tartars is classed by Masson amongst 
 the " Historical Essays." In what sense is it an historical 
 essay ? Not assuredly in that " higher and philosophical 
 sense " of which De Quincey speaks in the opening para- 
 graph. It is not as a " revolution for good or evil in the 
 fortunes of a whole people " that the Tartar migration is 
 considered in this essay. The causes alleged for the 
 * De Quincey {^English Men of Letters Series), p. 162. 
 
xxxvi INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Eevolt are neither sufficient nor probable : the results are 
 barely summarised in the concluding paragraph. Had the 
 essay approached the subject from the " philosophical " point 
 of view, we should have expected some, at least, of the 
 following questions to have been discussed : — The character 
 and previous history of the Tartars ; the circumstances attend- 
 ing their original secession from China ; the nature of their 
 connection with Eussia ; the character of the Eussian over- 
 lordship ; how far the Eevolt was national, how far religious ; 
 what were its consequences to Eussia, to China, to the 
 Tourgouths themselves. 
 
 Some of these points are, indeed, touched upon, but none 
 occupy any prominent position. Even as a record of facts 
 the essay is open to criticism ; strict accuracy does not seem 
 to have been faithfully adhered to, or faithfully sought. 
 
 The essay, then, cannot be regarded as a valuable contribu- 
 tion to historical scholarship as generally understood. But 
 we have no right to complain on that account. It is what 
 it aims at being, a spectacular narrative of a remarkable 
 event. It is to the imaginative faculties that De Quincey 
 addresses himself, and it cannot be denied that the imagina- 
 tive faculties are abundantly satisfied. If a classification to 
 accurately define the scope of the essay be required, we 
 might perhaps name the paper " A study in historical 
 narrative." As a complete historical 'picture it is not com- 
 plete ; as a study it leaves little to be desired. 
 
 In the opening paragraph, which serves as a kind of intro- 
 duction, De Quincey speaks of the triple character of the 
 Eevolt : — (1) As a conspiracy; (2) as a military expedition; 
 (3) as a religious exodus. The first two aspects are 
 sufficiently dwelt upon, the former, indeed, unduly; the 
 third is, at least, hinted at. But De Quincey thereupon goes 
 on to speak of the dramatic interest of the migration — its 
 scenical character; — and this interest, this character, un- 
 doubtedly forms for him its chief attraction. The very use 
 of the word " scenical " is characteristically significant ; 
 and not less so, perhaps, the somewhat distressing discussion 
 as to the possibility of adequately representing upon the 
 
THE REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. xxxvii 
 
 boards of a London or Paris theatre — with the paint and 
 canvas of the modern stage artist, and the mechanical 
 devices of the stage-carpenter — the grandeur of the horrors 
 vrhich enveloped the Tartar people in the course of their 
 fatal flight. 
 
 Here, certainly, a discordant note is struck. One revolts at 
 the association of the property man and his unrealities with 
 the agonised strife of men and women. It was no stage- 
 play to tlw,m, hut actual life and death. This, however, is 
 the one sin against " harmony " in the piece, and it is but a 
 passing allusion. 
 
 As a drama De Quincey views the Tartar Revolt ; a tragic 
 drama with Zebek-Dorchi as the predominantly malignant in- 
 fluence. And, certainly, if we but consider the thousands 
 of Tartar men and women left to perish of cold and hunger 
 on those Asian steppes, or butchered by the swords of 
 frenzied Bashkirs, Zebek is, undoubtedly, a tragically malign 
 influence. Viewed in the broader light of history, viewed 
 in its bearing upon the destinies of the Tartar people, the 
 truth may be far otherwise. But, for De Quincey's pur- 
 pose, from De Quincey's point of view, the incident of the 
 Tartar flight is a tragedy, and little besides. It is only the 
 " scenical " aspect which he places before his readers, and 
 the " scenical " aspect of history is, though perhaps not the 
 the widest or most important aspect, yet, at any rate, ome 
 aspect, and a true one.* 
 
 * It may perhaps be mentioned that the Kalmuck Tartars appear 
 more than once in De Quincey's writings, chiefly with regard to their 
 language which, he says, though a barbarous dialect enough, they re- 
 gard as the most perfect instrument of human speech. De Quincey re- 
 marks that he got this fact from Bergmann, and this, no doubt, he 
 had in his mind when he speaks of the "inflated conceit" of the 
 Tourgouth Tartars. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 IV. THE ENGLISH MAIL COACH. 
 
 The fir.st part of this " Phantasy " appeared originally in 
 Blackwood's Magazine for October 1849, under the title, The 
 English Mail Coach or The Glory of Motion. In December 
 of the same year there was published, also in Blackwood, 
 another article in two sections, The Vision of Sudden Death 
 and Dream Fugue on the above Theme of Sudden Death. 
 A note explained that the article was by the author of The 
 Glory of Motion, and was to be taken in connection with 
 it. Afterwards, for Vol. IV. of the "Collected Works," 
 1854, the three were put together under the general title, 
 The English Mail Coach, and the text was very carefully 
 revised. In Mr Masson's edition The English Mail Coach 
 will be found in Vol. XIII., under the heading, Tales and 
 Phantasies. The difficulty of writing an explanatory intro- 
 duction to The English Mail Coach, showing the under- 
 lying connection and real cohesion of the three separate 
 parts, has been, happily, very considerably lightened by 
 De Quincey himself. His own " Explanatory Notice '' to 
 Vol. IV. of the 1854 edition concludes as follows :* — 
 
 " This little paper, according to my original intention, 
 " formed part of the Suspiria de Profundis, from which, 
 " for a momentary purpose, I did not scruple to detach it, 
 " and to publish it apart as sufficiently intelligible, even 
 " when dislocated from its place in a larger whole. To my 
 " surprise, however, one or two critics, not carelessly in 
 " conversation, but dehberately in print, professed their in- 
 " ability to apprehend the meaning of the whole, or to 
 " follow the links of the connection between its several 
 " parts. I am myself as little able to understand where 
 " the difficulty Hes, or to detect any lurking obscurity, as 
 " those critics found themselves to unravel my logic : 
 " possibly, I may not be an indifferent and neutral judge 
 "in such a case. I will therefore sketch a brief abstract of 
 
 * In Masson's edition this notice will be found under heading 
 " Author's Postscript," in Vol. XIII. p. 328. 
 
THE ENGLISH MAIL COACH. xxxix 
 
 the little paper, according to my own original design, 
 and then leave the reader to judge Jbow far this design is 
 ' kept in sight through the actual execution. 
 "Thirty-seven years ago, or rather more, accident made 
 
 ■ me, in the dead of night, and of a night memorably solemn, 
 the solitary witness to an appalling scene which threatened 
 instant death, in a shape the most terrific, to two young 
 people whom I had no means of assisting, except in so 
 far as I was ahle to give them a most hurried warning of 
 their danger ; but, even that, not until they stood within 
 the very shadow of the catastrophe, being divided from 
 the most frightful of deaths by scarcely more, if more at 
 aU, than seventy seconds. 
 
 " Such was the scene, such in its outline, from which 
 the whole of this paper radiates as a natural expansion. 
 This scene is circumstantially narrated in Section the 
 Second, entitled The Vision of Sudden Death. 
 
 " But a movement of horror and of spontaneous recoil 
 from this dreadful scene naturally carried the whole of 
 that scene, raised and idealised, into my dreams. The 
 actual scene, as looked down upon from the box of the 
 
 ■ mail, was transformed into a dream as tumultuous and 
 ' changing as a musical fugue. This troubled dream is 
 
 circumstantially reported in Section the Third, entitled 
 ' Dream Fugue upon tlie Theme of Sudden Death. What 
 '' I had beheld from my seat upon the mail ; the scenical 
 strife of action and passion, of anguish and fear, as I had 
 ' there witnessed them moving in ghostly silence ; this 
 duel between life and death narrowing itself to a point 
 of such exquisite evanescence as the collision neared ; all 
 these elements of the scene blended, under the law of 
 association, with the previous and permanent features of 
 distinction investing the mail itself ; which features at 
 that time lay: — Firstly, in velocity unprecedented, 
 secondly, in the power and the beauty of the horses ; 
 thirdly, in the official connection with the government 
 of a great nation ; and fourthly, in the function, almost 
 a consecrated function, of publishing and diffusing through 
 
xl INTRODUCTION. 
 
 " the land the great political events, and, especially, the 
 " great battles, during a conflict of unparalleled grandeur. 
 " These honorary distinctions are all described circumstanti- 
 " ally in the First or Introductory Section (The Glory of 
 " Motion). The three first were distinctions maintained 
 " at all times ; but the fourth, and grandest, belonged ex- 
 " clusively to the war with Napoleon ; and this it was which 
 " most naturally introduced "Waterloo into the dream. 
 " Waterloo, I understood, was the particular feature of the 
 " Dream Fugue which my censors were least able to account 
 " for. Yet surely Waterloo, which — in common with every 
 " other great battle — it had been our special privilege to 
 " publish over all the land, most naturally entered the 
 " Dream under the license of our privilege. If not — if 
 " there be anything amiss — let the Dream be responsible. 
 " The Dream is a law to itself ; and as well quarrel with 
 " a rainbow for showing, or for not showing, a secondary 
 " arch. So far as I know, every element in the shifting 
 " movements of the Dream derived itself either primarily 
 " from the incidents of the actual scene, or from secondary 
 " features associated with the mail. For example, the 
 " cathedral aisle derived itself from the mimic combination 
 " of features which grouped themselves together at the 
 " point of approaching coUision — viz., an arrow-like section 
 " of the road, six hundred yards long, under the solemn 
 " lights described, with lofty trees meeting overhead in 
 " arches. The guard's horn, again — a humble instrument 
 " in itself — was yet glorified as the organ of publication 
 " for so many great national events. And the incident of 
 " the Dying Trumpeter, who rises from a marble bas-relief, 
 " and carries a marble trumpet to his marble lips for the 
 " purpose of warning the female infant, was doubtless 
 " secretly suggested by my own imperfect effort to seize the 
 " guard's horn and to blow a warning blast. But the Dream 
 " knows best ; and the Dream, I say again, is the respon- 
 " sible party." 
 
 Thus we see that the last part or Dream Fugue furnishes 
 the connecting link between the first two parts, which 
 
THE ENGLISH MAIL COACH. xli 
 
 otherwise, — save that there are mail-coaches in both, just 
 as there are rivers in Macedon and in Monmouth, — seem to 
 have no resemblance in matter and little in treatment. 
 
 "We must further notice that The English Mail Coach was 
 originally intended to form part of the Suspiria de Profundis 
 (Sighs from the Deep). The Suspiria, two of which were 
 in the Collected Edition transferred to the Autobiographical 
 Sketches* and one to The Confessions of an English Opium- 
 Eater,^ are now reduced to half-a-dozen fragments, of which 
 by far the finest is the Levana and Our Ladies of Sorrow. 
 The Suspiria and The English Mail Coach are thus closely 
 connected with the thought and feeling of the Confessions, 
 and, like the Confessions, with dreaming — dreaming often 
 born of opium, wild, " scenical," and no't seldom terrible. 
 
 The greater part of the Confessions, De Quincey teUs us, 
 exists for the sake of the dreams, — lead up to and are explana- 
 tory of these ; so it is with the present phantasy. Tlie Glory 
 of Motion and The Vision of Sudden Death are preparatory 
 to the Dream Fugue. We may, with Mr Masson, prefer the 
 preliminary pieces to the phantasy of which they form the 
 prelude ; but it is clear that De Quincey did not ; it is clear 
 that upon the Dream Fugzie he lavished all the wealth of 
 language and imagination at his command in order to make 
 it from the first line to the last a sustained model of "im- 
 passioned prose." 
 
 The Glory of Motion. — That The Glory of Motion should 
 have been intended to take its place amongst the Suspiria 
 ■ — those sighs from the very depths of man's spiritual being 
 — is at first sight strange enough ; for, save for the dream- 
 passage with which it closes, it is almost entirely conceived 
 in a humorous vein ; and, indeed, but for an indirect bear- 
 ing upon the Dream Fugrte, it can in no way be classed with 
 the Suspiria. It is rather a peculiarly fine example of De- 
 Quincean humour, and is to be ranked rather with Murder 
 
 *The Affliction of Childhood and Dream Echoes (See Masson's edition , 
 + The Daughter of Lebanon (See Masson's edition, Vol. III.). 
 
xlii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 as One of the Fine Arts and Sortilege and Astrology, than 
 with Levana and The Daughter of Lebanon. 
 
 In its arrangement it is almost chaotic. Mail-coaches, it 
 is true, figure throughout ; but the central theme serves 
 mainly as a peg on which to hang all soits of exquisite 
 fooling. 
 
 It opens with a ridiculous comparison between GalUeo 
 and Mr Palmer, M.P. After this feat De Quincey sobers 
 down for a paragraph and a half to dwell upon the share of 
 the mail-coach in "developing the anarchy of his later 
 dreams." Soon, however, we are back again in the region 
 of wild extravagance. Young Oxford's aristocratic senti- 
 ments, struggling with its Bohemian preference for the 
 Plebeian " outside " of the coach. Young Oxford, anxious 
 to square the circle, conducts an inquiry " on metaphysical 
 principles," and concludes in favour of the roof as the place 
 of honour. This leads to the inimitable account of the state 
 coach presented to the Emperor of China by George III. : 
 His Celestial Majesty sitting on the coachman's box, and 
 the coachman ignominiously kicked inside. 
 
 Then follows a wild history of national corruption, 
 occasioned by the rivalry in bribing between Oxford and 
 the public ; and this, in its turn, leads to a discussion as to 
 whether the box-seat on the mail-coach is a place of danger 
 or not — in which connection Van Troll's famous chapter 
 on the snakes in Iceland again does duty, — and De 
 Quincey teUs a story of a Jack Tar, and quotes Virgil to 
 the driver, — and so on, in a spirit of pure rollicking /?m, 
 until, after a solemn citation of " Ed. I. cap. 6 " in confirmation 
 of an opinion on the Treason Laws applied to coaches, De 
 Quincey, in more serious vein, compares the old days of the 
 mail-coach with the new days of the steam-engine, and 
 laments in tones, which Ruskin might echo, that the romance 
 and majesty of the mail-coach have given way for ever to 
 -the " pot-wallopings of the boiler. " 
 
 Then, by a transition, natural, or seemingly natural, we 
 are introduced to Fanny of the Bath Road, — a shadowy 
 being (perhaps real) who does not elsewhere appear in De 
 
THE ENGLISH MAIL COACH. xliii 
 
 Quincey's writings ; — and Fanny and her roses and her 
 crocodile grandfather pass into De Quincey's dreams — 
 those dreams in which beauty and hideousness, tenderness 
 and terror, are inextricably mingled, symbolic of the 
 mysterious interconnection of good and evil, delight and 
 pain, in man's complex nature ; dreams which rise in De 
 Quincey's mind as fearful witnesses to the truth of the 
 awful Christian doctrine of " original sin " — the " frailty of 
 earth and her children." It is to this most serious of re- 
 flections that TM Glory of Motion leads us, after all its 
 wanderings amid whimsical extravagance and light-hearted 
 levity. 
 
 In the second part of The Glory of Motion, entitled 
 Going down with Victory, the key changes. The general 
 efiect of this noble piece of writing cannot he better de- 
 scribed than in Mr Masson's words : — 
 
 " "We are back in the old days between Trafalgar and 
 " Waterloo. Drawn up at the General Post Office in 
 " Lombard Street, and waiting for the hour to start, we see 
 " his Majesty's mails, — carriages, harness, horses, lamps, the 
 " dresses of driver and guard, all in the perfection of English 
 " equipment ; and, if there has been news that day of a great 
 " victory, then the laurels, the oak leaves, the flowers, the 
 " ribbons, in addition. Seating ourselves beside the driver 
 " on one of the mails, we begin our journey of three hundred 
 " miles along one of the great roads, north or east, leaving 
 " Lombard Street at a quarter past eight ia the evening. 
 " How, once out into the country, we shoot along, horses at 
 " gaUop, the breeze in our faces, hedges and trees and fields 
 " and homesteads rushing past us in the darkness, which we 
 " and our lamps are cleaving like a fiery arrow ! How, at 
 " every stopping-station, there are lights and bustle at the 
 " inn-door, and the laurels and other bedizenments are seen 
 " ere we have well stopped, and we shout 'Badajoz' or 
 " ' Salamanca,' in explanation, or whatever else may have 
 " been the last victory, and the hostlers and other inn-folks 
 " take up the huzza, and it is one round of congratulation 
 
xliv INTRODUCTION. 
 
 " and hand-shaking while we stay ! But, punctually to 
 " the minute, having changed horses and left the news 
 " palpitating in that neighbourhood, we are on again, horses 
 " at gallop, coach-lamps burning, and we beside the driver on 
 " the front seat, conscious that we are carrying the same news 
 " with us to neighbourhoods still ahead ! On, on, stage 
 " after stage, in the same fashion, still cleaving the darkness, 
 " the horse-hoofs always audible, and the coach-lamps always 
 " burning, till the darkness yields to a silver glimmer, and the 
 " glimmer to the glare of day ! — Such is the series of sensa- 
 " tions De Quincey has contrived to give us in his prose-poem 
 " called The Glory of Motion." 
 
 As in the previous section we have a fine example of 
 De Quincey 's peculiar humour, so in Going Down with 
 Victory we have several instances of his pathos, a pathos 
 which, by a natural process, rises into something like sub- 
 limity. The news of a great national victory creates an 
 instantaneous national sympathy and feeling of brotherhood. 
 "For this night . . . gentle or simple, soldier or illiterate 
 " servant, for twelve hours to come, we on the outside have 
 " the honour to be their brothers. These poor women, again, 
 " who stop to gaze upon us with delight at the entrance of 
 " Barnet, and seem, by their air of weariness, to be returning 
 " from labour — do you mean to say that they are washer- 
 " women and charwomen ? Oh, my poor friend, you are 
 " quite mistaken. I assure you they stand in a far higher 
 " rank ; for this one night they feel themselves by birthright 
 " to be daughters of England, and answer to no humbler title." 
 
 And again, the finely-told anecdote at the end, purely 
 pathetic in every detail, of the poor woman — mother of a 
 hero, dead in all probability, though she knew it not — to 
 whom De Quincey related the story of her son's glory, and 
 who " threw her arms round my neck . . . and gave to 
 " me the kiss which secretly was meant for him." 
 
 The Vision of Sudden Death. — In the opening paragraphs 
 of Tlie Vision of Sudden Death we have a good example 
 
THE ENGLISH MAIL COACH. xlv 
 
 of the logical and analytical faculty in De Quincey — what 
 Carlyle called his "wire-drawn ingenuity." He discusses 
 the question of a sudden death j how far it is natural or 
 right, in a philosopher or a Christian, to view such an ending 
 with peculiar horror. Again, was Csesar's desire for an 
 unexpected death really at variance with the prayer of the 
 Church of England, which beseeches God to avert such a 
 death as the greatest of calamities ? These discussions are 
 neither of them very fortunate in the conclusions arrived at, 
 the reasoning in both eases being somewhat fallacious ; but 
 it is important to notice how this discussion — the greater 
 part of which might well have been spared — leads up to a 
 consideration of one kind of sudden death which the 
 writer thinks may justly be regarded with the greatest 
 dread — a death such as that which threatened the young 
 man and the lady whose narrow escape from destruction 
 forms the subject of the ensuing narrative. 
 
 Extremely significant, also, are the reasons assigned for 
 the terribleness of such a trial — " The .situation here con- 
 " templated exposes a dreadful ulcer, lurking far down in the 
 " depths of human nature." Again, we are thrown back 
 upon dreams as evidence for the " abysmal treachery " of 
 man's being ; and the same thought with which the first 
 part of The Glory of Motion closes is again thrust into pro- 
 minence, — the same thought enshrined in dreams. 
 
 Of the art prevading the narrative contained in this 
 section little need be said. We may notice, however, how 
 the interest of the reader is kept in a tension of excite- 
 ment by an almost painful suspense of the catastrophe. 
 Again, as in the Revolt of the Tartars, we have to admire 
 the masterly skill shown in the paragraph structure. But 
 here the language is more impassioned, and in places rises 
 to an altitude in which mere prose seems left behind and 
 prose-poetry takes its place. Elsewhere we have to notice 
 the rapidity of the movement, the sentences short and 
 abrupt : — " Yet, even now, it may not be too late : fifteen of 
 " the seventy seconds may still be unexhausted ; and one 
 
xlvi INTRODUCTION. 
 
 " almighty bound may avail to clear the ground. Hurry, 
 " then hurry ! for the flying moments — they hurry," &c., &c. 
 This, and much else, in The Vision of Sudden Death is the 
 art of narrative carried to its highest perfection. 
 
 There are, however, in this section, fine as it is, two 
 features which, to some readers at least, tend to mar the 
 impression which so nervous a piece of narrative would 
 otherwise have left upon their minds. First, there is an 
 element of painfulness introduced into the story by the 
 part played by the narrator himself. We cannot help 
 feeUng that, if De Quincey is recounting an actual fact, he 
 himself might have averted the danger which threatened 
 the occupants of the frail " reedy carriage." If this be so, — ^ 
 and De Quincey, anticipating the reproach, endeavours — not 
 very satisfactorily — to answer it beforehand, — then un- 
 doubtedly we have in the whole situation an element of pain- 
 fulness which is inseparable from any contemplation of sheer 
 human weakness. De Quincey takes refuge in a " tu quoque," 
 — " You, reader, think that it would have been in your power, 
 &c.," which, it must be confessed, does not help matters 
 much : nor does the vehement assertion of the impossibility 
 of his doing anything to save the unwary travellers make us 
 quite forget that he has just confessed that he was constitu- 
 tionally " shamefully deficient in the quality of presence of 
 " mind as regards action," nor to the hint immediately after- 
 wards, as to his own condition at the time, his " opium-shat- 
 tered self." 
 
 The other disturbing element is the intrusion of humour 
 where its presence is least expected and least harmonises 
 with the surroundings. It is true that in the highest 
 writings, particularly in the case of dramatic poetry, humour 
 is frequently found side by side with matter which appeals 
 to very different emotions : but in such cases the humorous 
 element generally serves either to relieve feelings too highly 
 strung, or to heighten some tragic situation by force of con- 
 trast. There is also another kind of humour whicli blends 
 inextricably with profounder feelings, — that subtlest of all 
 
THE ENGLISH MAIL COACH xlvii 
 
 humour, the source of which is not far removed from the 
 fount of tears. But this is not De Quincey's humour ; 
 neither does the humour in the passage referred to servo 
 either of the artistic purposes mentioned. De Quincey has 
 announced his theme, a theme of sufficient awfulness, and 
 one which, in his own estimate, carries with it the most 
 disquieting reflections, exposing, indeed, "a dreadful ulcer 
 lurking far down in the depths of human nature." The 
 theme has been announced, and the writer goes on to relate 
 the incident which suggested the theme to his mind ; and 
 the incident was a terrible personal experience, of which 
 he carried the dreadful recollection with him through life, — 
 which was " swept into his dreams forever." 
 
 After this solemn prelude he begins his tale, — how ? 
 "With a page or two of merriment, humour ; not of the subtle 
 kind, but pure unalloyed /mm, — what is vulgarly called " tom- 
 foolery." "What is the efiect of this ? Is it not to impart an 
 air of insincerity to the more serious passages of the narrative % 
 It may be, after all, the reader begins to suspect, nothing 
 more than " fine writing." 
 
 Of course all readers may not be affected in this way, but 
 some undoubtedly wUl be, and these, perhaps, not the least 
 capable of appreciating the peculiar flavour of De Quincey's 
 peculiar humour, because they resent it here. 
 
 Dream Fugue. — The incident described in The Vision of 
 Sudden Death leads up naturally to the Dream Fugue, which 
 is incomprehensible without it. "With regard to the inter- 
 connection between the three parts of The English Mail 
 Goaah, De Quincey has spoken with sufficient clearness in 
 his explanatory note, already quoted ; and further illustrations 
 will be found in the present notes to the Lh'eam Fugue. 
 
 Mr Masson has doubts about the excellence of the 
 Fugue. " 1 cannot say," he says, " that this ' Dream Fugue,' 
 " which is offered as a lyrical finale to the little series, in 
 " visionary coherence with the preceding pieces, accomplishes 
 " its purpose very successfully. It is liable to the objection 
 " which may be urged, as we have said, against other speci- 
 es 
 
xlviii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 " mens of De Quincey in the art of drea m phantasy. The 
 " artifice is too apparent, and the meaning is all but lost in a 
 " mere vague of music." * Elsewhere,! he repeats much the 
 same criticism, with some sHght modification : — " The first 
 " two sections of The English Mail Coach are noble pieces of 
 " prose-poetry, and more successful, all in aUj than the 
 " appended 'Dream Fugue.' Though that is an extra^ 
 " ordinary piece of writing too, and gains on one perhaps by 
 " repeated reading, the prefixed direction ' Tumultuosissima- 
 " mente ' rather repels one, as too suggestive of artificiality 
 " and the flourished baton of the leader of an orchestra ; and 
 " the total effect does not seem equal to the exertion 
 " expended." 
 
 This, again, is largely a matter of taste. The charge of 
 artificiality it would perhaps be difiicult successfully to 
 rebut. That De Quincey himself attached considerable 
 importance to the Dream Ftigm, has already been shown. 
 That it is a very remarkable piece of composition admits of 
 little doubt, although many readers may be disposed to 
 question with Masson whether the aim was worth the 
 effort. 
 
 The piece is what is called a tour de force : it is an 
 attempt not only to describe, but to realise in language the 
 magnificent pageantry of a dream— a dream, too, " tumult- 
 uous and changing as a musical fugue." We have thus two 
 separate but simultaneous effects, the effect of. a dream and 
 the effect of a very elaborate kind of musical composition. 
 Does De Quincey succeed in producing these effects ? It 
 can hardly be denied. The Fugue is true to the nature of a 
 dream in its spectacular magnificence, in its shifting phases 
 which seem controlled by no law : the dream is true to the 
 nature of a fugue in the musical rise and fall of the diction, 
 and in the hurrying, one after the other, of different parts, 
 from which, however, a single theme, a predominating 
 motif, is never absent. 
 
 It is beside the purpose then to demand any " definite 
 
 * De Quincey {English Men of Letters Series), p. 196. 
 
 t Masson's edition of De Quinoey's 'Works, Vol. XIII. p. 8. 
 
THE ENGLISH MAIL COACH. xlix 
 
 meaning;" to complain of "a vague of music." Dreams 
 are necessarily vague, and the meaning of music is of an 
 essentially intangible character. There are, it is true, 
 dreams in literature which are not vague, and which have a 
 very definite meaning; but such dreams are obviously purely 
 fictitious ; they are not even meant to deceive. The open 
 artifice is excused for the sake of some independent result 
 attained. But De Quincey's Bream Fugue is represented 
 as an actual dream — true to the nature of a dream — not a 
 poet's fancy put forward in the garb of a dream. 
 
 We may stiU be asked whether a dream, however true as 
 a dream, is worth all this trouble. "We must here remember 
 that, to De QuLncey, dreams were a fearful reality. He was 
 essentially a dreamer of dreams. He dreamed and carried 
 with him afterwards a haunting recollection of his dreams. 
 When we recall that, during oiie period of his life, sleep 
 was to him no soother of care, no refresher of wearied 
 nature, but a thing actually anticipated with horror ; that 
 night brought with it no time of rest, but rather a fearful 
 spiritual struggle, all the more to be dreaded because the 
 struggle was impotent ; when we remember this, we shall 
 understand how it was that to De Quincey dreams were of 
 as much importance as are, to most men, the more concrete 
 facts of waking life ; nay, that to him, as to other transcen- 
 dentalists, these concrete facts were themselves only " such 
 stuff as dreams are made of." De Quincey was a dreamer 
 such as few men can be. " My dreams are seldom calm," 
 — with these words he closes the Confessions — " My dreams 
 " are seldom calm ; the dread swell and agitation of the storm 
 " have not whoUy subsided ; the legions that encamped in 
 " them are drawing off, but not departed ; my sleep is still 
 " tumultuous ; and, like the gates of Paradise to our first 
 " parents when looking back from afar, it is still (in the 
 " tremendous line of Milton) — 
 
 ' With dreadful faces thronged and fiery arms.' " 
 
 Such is the Dream Fugue, and, if the reader can at all 
 bring himself to assent that a mere dream is worthy of the 
 
1 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 elaborately artistic treatment here bestowed upon it, the 
 beauty of De Quincey's Fugue will not be lost upon him ; 
 neither the unity of exalted emotion which pervades the 
 whole, nor the marvellous splendour and pathos of indi- 
 vidual passages or phrases ; such cadences, for instance, as 
 this: — "And, behold ! the pinnace was dismantled; the revel 
 " and the revellers were found no more ; the glory of the vin- 
 " tage was dust ; and the forests with their beauty were left 
 " without a witness upon the seas ; " — such pathos as dwells 
 in the single phrase — " the dead that died before the dawn ; " 
 — such splendour as surges through the whole of the last 
 section, rising steadily until it swells out complete, triumph- 
 ant, in the magnificent period with which the Dream Fugue 
 so finely closes. 
 
 M. H. 
 
REVOLT OF THE TARTARS: 
 
 OB, 
 
 PLIGHT OP THE KALMUCK KHM' ' 
 
 AND HIS PEOPLE PEOM THE EUSSIAN TERRITOKIES 
 
 TO THE PRONTIEES OP CHINA. 
 
 THERE is no great event in modern history, or, perhaps 
 it may be said more broadly, none in all history, from 
 its earUest records, less generally known, or more striking to 
 the imagination, than the flight eastwards of a principal 
 Tartar nation across the boundless steppes of Asia in the 
 latter half of the last century. The terminus a quo of this 
 flight, and the terminus ad quern, are equally magnificent ; 
 the mightiest of Christian thrones being the one, the 
 mightiest of Pagan the other. And the grandeur of these 
 two terminal objects is harmoniously supported by the 10 
 romantic circumstances of the flight. In the abruptness of 
 its commencement, and the fierce velocity of its execution, 
 we read the wild barbaric character of those who conducted 
 the movement. In the unity of purpose connecting this 
 myriad of wills, and in the blind but unerring aim at a 
 mark so remote, there is something which recalls to the 
 mind those almighty instincts that propel the migrations of 
 the swallow and the lemming, or the life-witheriug marches 
 of the locust. Then again, in the gloomy vengeance of 
 Eussia and her vast artillery, -which hung upon the rear and 20 
 the skirts of the fugitive vassals, we are reminded of Mil- 
 
2 REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 
 
 tonic images — such, for instance, as that of the solitary hand 
 pursuing through desert spaces and through ancient chaos a 
 rebellious host, and overtaking with volleying thunders 
 those who believed themselves abeady within the security 
 of darkness and of distance. 
 
 I shall have occasion, farther on, to compare this event 
 with other great national catastrophes as to the magnitude 
 of the suffering. But it may also challenge a comparison 
 
 30 with similar events under another relation, viz., as to its 
 dramatic capabilities. Few cases, perhaps, in romance or 
 history, can sustain a close collation with this as to the 
 complexity of its separate interests. The great outline of 
 the enterprise, taken in connection with the operative 
 motives, hidden or avowed, and the religious sanctions 
 under which it was pursued, give to the case a triple char- 
 acter : — First, that of a conspiracy, with as close a unity 
 in the incidents and as miich of a personal interest in the 
 moving characters, with fine dramatic contrasts, as belongs to 
 
 40 Venice Preserved, or to the Fiesco of Schiller ; secondly, 
 that of a great militafy expedition, offering the same 
 romantic features of vast distances to be traversed, vast 
 reverses to be sustained, untried routes, enemies obscurely 
 ascertained, and hardships too vaguely prefigured, which 
 mark the Egyptian expedition of Cambyses — which mark 
 the anabasis of the younger Cyrus, and the subsequent 
 retreat of the ten thousand — which mark the Parthian 
 expeditions of the Romans, especially those of Crassus and 
 Julian — or (as more disastrous than any of them, and, in 
 
 60 point of space as well as in amount of forces, more exten- 
 sive) the Russian anabasis and katabasis of Napoleon ; 
 thirdly, that of a religious Exodus, authorised by an oracle 
 venerated throughout many nations of Asia — an Exodus, 
 therefore, in so far resembling the great Scriptural Exodus 
 of the Israelites, under Moses and Joshua, as well as in the 
 very peculiar distinction of carrying along with them their 
 entire famihes, women, children, slaves, their herds of cattle 
 and of sheep, their horses and their camels. 
 
 This triple character of the enterprise naturally invests 
 
REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 3 
 
 it with a more comprehensive interest. But the dramatic 60 
 interest which I have ascribed to it, or its fitness for a 
 stage representation, depends partly upon the marked variety 
 and the strength of the personal agencies concerned, and 
 partly upon the succession of scenical situations. Even the 
 Steppes, the camels, the tents, the snowy and the sandy 
 deserts, are not beyond the scale of our modern representative 
 powers, as often called into action in the theatres both of 
 Paris and London; and the series of situations unfolded, 
 beginning with the general conflagration on the Wolga — 
 passing thence to the disastrous scenes of the flight (as it 70 
 literally was in its commencement) — to the Tartar siege of 
 the Russian fortress Koulagina — the bloody engagement 
 with the Cossacks in the mountain passes at Ouchim — the 
 surprisal by the Bashkirs and the advanced posts of the 
 Russian Army at Torgau — the private conspiracy at this 
 point against the Khan — the long succession of running 
 fights — the parting massacres at the Lake of Tengis under 
 the eyes of the Chinese — and, finally, the tragical retribution 
 to Zebek-Dorchi at the hunting lodge of the Chinese 
 Emperor ; — all these situations communicate a scenical 80 
 animation to the wild romance, if treated dramatically, 
 whilst a higher and a philosophic interest belongs to it as a 
 case of authentic history, commemorating a great revolution 
 for good and for evil, in the fortunes of a whole people 
 — a people semi-barbarous, but simple-hearted, and of 
 ancient descent. 
 
 On the 21st of January, 1761, the young Prince 
 Oubacha assumed the sceptre of the Kalmucks upon the 
 death of his father. Some part of the power attached to 
 this dignity he had already wielded since his fourteenth 90 
 year, in quality of Vice-Khan, by the express appointment 
 and with the avowed support of the Russian Government. 
 He was now about eighteen years of age, amiable in his 
 personal character, not without titles to respect in his 
 public character as a sovereign prince. In times more 
 
4 REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 
 
 peaceable, and amongst a people more entirely civilised, or 
 more humanised by religion, it is even probable that he 
 might have discharged his high duties with considerable 
 distinction. But his lot was thrown upon stormy times, 
 
 100 and a most difficult crisis amongst tribes, whose native 
 ferocity was exasperated by debasing forms of superstition, 
 and by a national as well as an inflated conceit of their own 
 merit, absolutely unparalleled, whilst the circumstances of 
 their hard and trying position under the jealous surveillance 
 of an irresistible lord paramount, in the person of the Kussian 
 Czar, gave a fiercer edge to the natural unamiableness of 
 the Kalmuck disposition, and irritated its gloomier qualities 
 into action under the restless impulses of suspicion and per- 
 manent distrust. No prince could hope for a cordial aUegi- 
 
 110 ance from his subjects, or a peaceful reign, under the circum- 
 stances of the case, for the dilemma in which a Kalmuck 
 ruler stood at present was of this nature : xoanting the sanction 
 and support of the Czar, he was inevitably too weak from 
 without to command confidence from his subjects or resist- 
 ance to his competitors ; on the other hand, with this kind 
 of support, and deriving his title in any degree from the 
 ' -favour of the Imperial Court, he became almost in that 
 extent an object of hatred at home, and within the whole 
 compass of his own territory. He was at once an object of 
 
 120 hatred for the past, being a living monument of national 
 independence ignominiously surrendered, and an object of 
 jealousy for the future, as one who had already advertised 
 himself to be a fitting tool for the ultimate purposes (what- 
 soever those might prove to be) of the Russian Court. 
 Coming himself to the Kalmuck sceptre under the heaviest 
 weight of prejudice from the unfortunate circumstances of 
 his position, it might have been expected that Oubacha 
 would have been pre-eminently an object of detestation; for, 
 besides his known dependence upon the Cabinet of St. Peters- 
 
 130 burg, the direct line of succession had been set aside, and 
 the principle of inheritance violently suspended, in favour 
 of his own father, so recently as nineteen years before the 
 era of his own accession, consequently within the lively 
 
REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. '5 
 
 remembrance of the existing generation. He, therefore, 
 almost equally with his father, stood within the full current 
 of the national prejudices, and might have anticipated the 
 most pointed hostility. But it was not so : such are the 
 caprices in human affairs, that he was even, in a moderate 
 sense, popular — a benefit which wore the more cheering 
 aspect and the promises of permanence, inasmuch as he 140 
 owed it exclusively to his personal qualities of kindness and 
 affability, as well as to the beneficence of his government. 
 On the other hand, to balance this unlooked-for prosperity 
 at the outset of his reign, he met with a rival in popular 
 favour — almost a competitor — in the person of Zebek- 
 Dorchi, a prince with considerable pretensions to the 
 throne, and perhaps, it might be said, with equal preten- 
 sions. Zebek-Dorchi was a direct descendant of the same 
 royal house as himself, through a different branch. On 
 public grounds, his claim stood, perhaps, on a footing 150 
 equally good with that of Oubacha, whilst his personal qual- 
 ities, even in those aspects which seemed to a philosophical 
 observer most odious and repulsive, promised the most 
 effectual aid to the dark purposes of an intriguer or a con- 
 spirator, and were generally fitted to win a popular support 
 precisely in those points where Oubacha was most defec- 
 tive. He was much superior in external appearance to his 
 rival on the throne, and so far better qualified to win the 
 good opinion of a semi-barbarous people ; whilst his dark 
 intellectual qualities of Machiavelian dissimulation, profound 160 
 hypocrisy, and perfidy which knew no touch of remorse, 
 were admirably calculated to sustain any ground which he 
 might win from the simple-hearted people with whom he 
 had to deal — and from the frank carelessness of his 
 unconscious competitor. 
 
 At .the very outset of his treacherous career, Zebek- 
 Dorchi was sagacious enough to perceive that nothing could 
 be gained by open declaration of hostility to the reigning 
 prince : the choice had been a deliberate act on the part of 
 Eussia, and Elizabeth Petrowna was not the person to 170 
 recall her own favours with levil^, or upon slight grounds. 
 
6 REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 
 
 Openly, therefore, to have declared his enmity towards 
 his relative on the throne, could have had no effect but 
 that of arming suspicions against his own ulterior purposes 
 in a quarter where it was most essential to his interest 
 that, for the present, aU suspicion should be hoodwinked. 
 Accordingly, after much meditation, the course he took for 
 opening his snares was this : — He raised a rumour that his 
 own life was in danger from the plots of several Saissang 
 
 180 (that is, Kalmuck nobles), who were leagued together, under 
 an oath, to assassinate him ; and immediately after, as- 
 suming a well-counterfeited alarm, he fled to Tcherkask, 
 followed by sixty-five tents. From this place he kept up a 
 correspondence with the Imperial Court, and, by way of 
 soliciting his cause more effectually, he soon repaired in 
 person to St. Petersburg. Once admitted to personal con- 
 ferences with the Cabinet, he found no difficulty in winning 
 over the Kussian councils to a concurrence with some of his 
 political views, and thus covertly introducing the point of 
 
 190 that wedge which was finally to accomplish his purposes. 
 In particular, he persuaded the Russian Government to 
 make a very important alteration in the constitution of the 
 Kalmuck State Council, which in effect reorganised the 
 whole political condition of the State, and disturbed the 
 balance of power as previously adjusted. Of this Council — 
 in the Kalmuck language called Sarga — there were eight 
 members, called Sargatchi, and hitherto it had been the 
 custom that these eight members should be entirely subordin- 
 ate to the Khan ; holding, in fact, the ministerial character 
 
 200 of secretaries and assistants, but in no respect acting as 
 co-ordinate authorities. That had produced some incon- 
 veniences in former reigns, and it was easy for Zebek- 
 Dorchi to point the jealousy of the Russian Court to others 
 more serious, which might arise in future circumstances of 
 war or other contingencies. It was resolved, therefore, to 
 place the Sargatchi henceforwards on a footing of perfect 
 independence, and therefore (as regarded responsibility) on 
 a footing of equality with the Khan. Their independence, 
 however, had respect only to their own sovereian • for 
 
REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 7 
 
 towards Russia they were placed in a new attitude of direct 210 
 duty and accountability, by the creation in their favour of 
 small pensions (300 roubles a year), which, however, to a 
 Kalmuck of that day, were more considerable than might be 
 supposed, and had a farther value as marks of honorary 
 distinction emanating from a great Empress. Thus far the 
 purposes of Zebek-Dorchi were served effectually for the 
 moment : but, apparently, it was only for the moment, 
 since, in the further development of his plots, this very 
 dependency upon Russian influence would be the most 
 serious obstacle in his way. There was, however, another 220 
 point carried which outweighed all inferior considerations, 
 as it gave him a power of setting aside discretionally what- 
 soever should arise to disturb his plots : he was himself 
 appointed President and Controller of the Sargatchi. The 
 Russian Court had been aware of his high pretensions by 
 birth, and hoped by this promotion to satisfy the ambition 
 which, in some degree, was acknowledged to be a reason- 
 able passion for any man occupying his situation. 
 
 Having thus completely blindfolded the Cabinet of Russia, 
 Zebek-Dorchi proceeded in his new character to fulfil his 230 
 political mission with the Kha n of the Kalmucks. So 
 artfully did he prepare the road for his favourable recep- 
 tion at the Court of this prince, that he was at once and 
 universally welcomed as a benefactor. The pensions of the 
 counsellors were so much additional wealth poured into 
 the Tartar exchequer ; as to the ties of dependency thus 
 created, experience had not yet enlightened these simple 
 tribes as to that result. And that he himself should be 
 the chief of these mercenary councillors, was so far from 
 being charged upon Zebek as any offence or any ground 240 
 of suspicion, that his relative the Khan returned him hearty 
 thanks for his services, under the belief that he could have 
 accepted this appointment only with a view to keep out 
 other and more unwelcome pretenders, who would not have 
 had the same motives of consanguinity or friendship for 
 executing its duties in a spirit of kindness to the Kalmucks. 
 The first use which he made of his new functions about 
 
-8 REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 
 
 the Khan's person, was to attack the Court of Kussia, hy 
 a romantic villainy not easy to be credited, for those very 
 
 250 acts of interference with the Council which he himself had 
 prompted. This was a dangerous step, but it was indis- 
 pensable to his further advance upon the gloomy path which 
 he had traced out for himself. A triple vengeance wefT 
 what he meditated : — First, upon the Russian Cabinet for 
 having undervalued his own pretensions to the throne; 
 second, upon his amiable rival for having supplanted him ; and 
 third, upon all those of the nobiUty who had manifested their/ 
 sense of his weakness by their neglect, or their ^ sense of 
 his perfidious character by their suspicions. Here was a 
 
 260 colossal outline of wickedness ; and by one in his situation, 
 feeble (as it might seem) for the accomplishment of its 
 humblest parts, how was the total edifice to be reared in its 
 comprehensive grandeur? He, a worm as he was, could 
 he venture to assail the mighty behemoth of Muscovy, the 
 potentate who counted three hundred languages around the 
 footsteps of his throne, and from whose " lion ramp " 
 recoiled alike " baptized and infidel " — Christendom on 
 the one side, strong by her intellect and her organisation, 
 and the " Barbaric East " on the other, with her unnumbered 
 
 270 numbers ? The match was a monstrous one j but in its very 
 monstrosity there lay this germ of encouragement, that it 
 could not be suspected. The very hopelessness of the 
 scheme grounded his hope, and he resolved to execute a 
 vengeance which would involve, as it were, in the unity 
 of a well-laid tragic fable, all whom he judged to be his 
 enemies. That vengeance lay in detaching from the 
 Eussian Empire the whole Kalmuck nation, and breaking 
 up that system of intercourse which had thus far been 
 beneficial to both. This last was a consideration which 
 
 280 moved him but little. True it was, that Russia to the 
 Elalmucks had secured lands and extensive pasturage ; true 
 it was that the Kalmucks reciprocally to Russia had 
 furnished a powerful cavalry. But the latter loss would 
 be part of his triumph, and the former might be more than 
 compensated in other climates under other sovereigns. Here 
 
REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 9 
 
 was a' sclieine which, in its final accomplishment, would 
 avenge him bitterly on the Czarina, and in the course of 
 its accomplishment might furnish him with ample occasions 
 for removing his other enemies. It may be readily supposed, 
 indeed, that he who could deliberately raise his eyes to the 290 
 Russian autocrat as an antagonist in single duel with him- 
 self, was not likely to feel much anxiety about Kalmuck 
 enemies of whatever rank. He took his resolution, therefore, 
 sternly and irrevocably, to effect this astonishing translation 
 of an ancient people across the pathless deserts of Central 
 Asia, intersected continually by rapid rivers, rarely furnished 
 with bridges, and of which the fords were known only 
 to those who might think it for their interest to conceal 
 them, through many nations inhospitable or hostile ; frost 
 and snow around them (from the necessity of commencing 300 
 their flight in winter), famine in tlieir front, and the sabre, 
 . or even the artillery of an offended and mighty Empress, 
 hanging upon their rear for thousands of miles. But what 
 was to be their final mark — the port of shelter after so 
 fearful a course of wandering ? Two things were evident : 
 it must be some power at a great distance from Eussia, 
 so as to make return even in that view hopeless ; and it 
 must be a power of sufficient rank to insure them protection 
 from any hostile efforts on the part of the Czarina for 
 reclaiming them, or for chastising their revolt. Both 310 
 conditions were united obviously in the person of Kien 
 Long, the reigning Emperor of China, who was further 
 recommended to them by his respect for the head of their 
 religion. To China, therefore, and, as their first rendezvous, 
 to the shadow of the great Chinese Wall, it was settled 
 by Zebek that they should direct their flight. 
 
 Next came the question of time. When should the flight 
 commence ? and, finally, the more delicate question as to the 
 choice of accomplices. To extend the knowledge of the con- 
 spiracy too far, was to insure its betrayal to the Russian 320 
 Government. Yet at some stage of the preparations it was 
 evident that a very extensive confidence must be made, 
 because in no other way could the mass of the Kalmuck 
 
lo REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 
 
 population be persuaded to furnish their families with the 
 requisite equipments for so long a migration. This critical 
 step, however, it was resolved to defer up to the latest 
 possible moment, and, at all events, to make no general com- 
 munication on the subject until the time of departure should 
 be definitely settled. In the meantime, Zebek admitted 
 
 330 only three persons to his confidence, of whom Oubacha, the 
 reigning prince, was almost necessarily one ; but him, from 
 his yielding and somewhat feeble character, he viewed 
 rather in the light of a tool than as one of his active accom- 
 plices. Those whom (if anybody) he admitted \a an un- 
 reserved participation in his counsels were two only, the 
 great Lama among the Kalmucks and his own father-in law, 
 Erempel, a ruling prince of some tribe in the neighbourhood 
 of the Caspian sea, recommended to his favour not so much 
 by any strength of talent corresponding to the occasion as 
 
 340 by his blind devotion to himself and his passionate anxiety 
 to promote the elevation of his daughter and his son-in-law 
 to the throne of a sovereign prince. A titular prince Zebek 
 already was : but this dignity, without the substantial 
 accompaniment of a sceptre, seemed but an empty sound 
 to both of these ambitious rebels. The other accomplice, 
 whose name was Loosan-Dchaltzan, and whose rank was 
 that of Lama or Kalmuck pontiff, was a person of far more 
 distinguished pretensions ; he had something of the same 
 gloomy and terrific pride which marked the character of 
 
 350 Zebek himself, manifesting also the same energy, accom- 
 panied by the same unfaltering cruelty, and a natural 
 facility of dissimulation even more profound. It was by 
 this man that the other question was settled, as to the time 
 for giving efiect to their designs. His own pontifical 
 character had suggested to him that, in order to strengthen 
 their influence with the vast mob of simple-minded men 
 whom they were to lead into a howling wilderness, after 
 persuading them to lay desolate their own ancient 
 hearths, it was indispensable that they should be able, 
 
 360 in cases of extremity, to plead the express sanction of 
 God for their entire enterprise. This could only be done 
 
REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. ii 
 
 by addressing themselves to the great head of their religion, 
 the Dalai-Lama of Tibet. Him they easily persuaded to 
 countenance their schemes, and an oracle was delivered 
 solemnly at Tibet, to the effect that no ultimate prosperity 
 would attend this great Exodus unless it were pursued 
 through the years of the tiger and the hare. Now, the 
 Kalmuck custom is to distinguish their years by attaching 
 tp each a denomination taken from one of twelve animals, 
 the exact order of succession being absolutely fixed, so that 370 
 the cycle revolves of course through a period of a dozen years. 
 Consequently, if the approaching year of the tiger were 
 suffered to escape them, in that case the expedition must be 
 delayed for twelve years more, within which period, even 
 were no other unfavourable changes to arise, it was pretty 
 well foreseen that the Russian Government would take the 
 most effectual means for bridling their vagrant propensities 
 by a ring fence of forts or military posts, to say nothing 
 of the still readier plan for securing their fidelity (a plan 
 already talked of in all quarters), by exacting a large body 380 
 of hostages selected from the families of the most influential 
 nobles. On these cogent considerations it was solemnly 
 determined that this terrific experiment should be made in 
 the next year of the tigefr, which happened to fall upon the 
 Christian year 1771. With respect to the month, there 
 was, unhappily for the Kalmucks, even less latitude allowed 
 to their choice than with respect to the year. It was 
 absolutely necessary, or it was thought so, that the different 
 divisions of the nation which pastured their flocks on both 
 banks of the Wolga should have the means of effecting an 390 
 instantaneous junction, because the danger of being inter- 
 cepted by flying columns of the imperial armies was pre- 
 cisely the greatest at the outset. K"ow, from the want of 
 bridges or sufficient river craft for transporting so vast a 
 body of men, the sole means which could be depended upon 
 (especially where so many women, children, and camels were 
 concerned), was ice : and this, in a state of sufficient firmness, 
 could not be absolutely counted upon before the month of 
 January. Hence it happened that this astonishing Exodus 
 
12 REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 
 
 400 of a whole nation, before so much as a whisper of the 
 design had begun to circulate amongst those whom it most 
 interested, before it was even suspected that any man's wishes 
 pointed in that direction, had been definitively appointed for 
 January of the year 1771. And almost up to the Christmas 
 of 1770, the poor simple Kalmuck herdsmen and their 
 families were going nightly to their peaceful beds, without 
 even dreamily that the fixd had already gone forth from 
 their rulers which consigned those quiet abodes, together 
 with the peace and comfort which reigned within them, to 
 
 410 a withering desolation, now close at hand. 
 
 Meantime war raged on a great scale between Eussia 
 and the Sultan ; and, until the time arrived for throwing 
 off their vassalage, it was necessary that Oubacha should 
 contribute his usual contingent of martial aid. Nay, it had 
 unfortunately become prudent that he should contribute 
 much more than his usual aid. Human experience gives 
 ample evidence that in some mysterious and unaccountable 
 way no great design is ever agitated, no matter how few 
 or how faithful may be the participators, but that some 
 
 420 presentiment — some dim misgiving — is kindled amongst 
 those whom it is chiefly important to blind. And, however 
 it might have happened, certain it is, that already, when 
 as yet no syllable of the conspiracy had been breathed to 
 any man whose very existence was not staked upon its 
 concealment, nevertheless, some vague and uneasy jealousy 
 had arisen in the Russian Cabinet as to the future schemes 
 of the Kalmuck Khan : and very probable it is that, but 
 for the war then raging, and the consequent prudence of 
 conciliating a very important vassal, or, at least, of abstain- 
 
 430 ing from what would powerfully alienate him, even at that 
 moment such measures would have been adopted as must 
 for ever have intercepted the Kalmuck schemes. Slight as 
 were the jealousies of the Imperial Court, they had not 
 escaped the Machiavelian eyes of Zebek and the Lama. 
 And under their guidance, Oubacha, bending to the cir- 
 cumstances of the moment, and meeting the jealousy of 
 the Eussian Court with a policy corresponding to their own. 
 
REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 13 
 
 strove by unusual zeal to efface the Czarina's unfavourable 
 impressions. He enlarged the scale of his contributions, 
 and thai so prodigiously that he absolutely carried to head- 440 
 quarters a force of 35,000 cavalry fully equipped; some 
 go further, and rate the amount beyond 40,000, but the 
 smaller estimate is, at all events, within the truth. 
 
 With this magnificent array of cavalry, heavy as well as 
 light, the Khan went into the field under great expecta- 
 tions : and these he more than realised. Having the good 
 fortune to be concerned with so ill-organised and dis- 
 orderly a description of force as that which at all times 
 composed the bulk of a Turkish army, he carried victory 
 along with his banners, gained many partial successes, 450 
 and at last, in a pitched battle, overthrew the Turkish 
 force opposed to him with a loss of 5000 men left upon 
 the field. 
 
 These splendid achievements seemed likely to operate in 
 various ways against the impending revolt. Oubacha had 
 now a strong motive, in the martial glory acquired, for 
 continuing his connection with the empire in whose service 
 he had won it, and by whom only it could be fully appre- 
 ciated. He was now a great marshal of a great empire, 
 one of the Paladins around the imperial throne ; in China 460 
 he would be nobody, or (worse than that) a mendicant 
 alien, prostrate at the feet and soliciting the precarious 
 alms of a prince with whom he had no connection. 
 Besides, it might reasonably be expected that the Czarina, 
 grateful for the really efficient aid given by the Tartar 
 prince, would confer upon him such eminent rewards as 
 might be sufficient to anchor his hopes upon Russia, and 
 to wean him from every possible seduction. These were 
 the obvious suggestions of prudence and good sense to 
 every man who stood neutral in the case. But they were 470 
 disappointed. The Czarina knew her obligations to the 
 Khan, but she did not acknowledge them. Wherefore? 
 That is a mystery, perhaps never to be explained. So it 
 was, however. The Khan went unhonoured ; no vkase 
 eyer proclaimed his merits j and perhaps, had he even been 
 
14 REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 
 
 alDundantly recompensed by Eussia, there were others who 
 would have defeated these tendencies to reconciliation. 
 Erempel, Zebek, and Loosang the Lama, were pledged life- 
 deep to prevent any accommodation ; and their efforts were 
 
 480 unfortunately seconded by those of their deadliest enemies. 
 In the Russian Court there were at that time some great 
 nobles preoccupied with feelings of hatred and blind 
 malice towards the Kalmucks, quite as strong as any which 
 the Kalmucks could harbour towards Eussia, and not, 
 perhaps, so well founded. Just as much as the Kalmucks 
 hated the Eussian yoke, their galling assumption of authority, 
 the marked air of disdain, as towards a nation of ugly, 
 stupid, and filthy barbarians, which too generally marked 
 the Eussian bearing and language, but, above all, the 
 
 490 insolent contempt, or even outrages, which the Eussian 
 governors or great military commandants tolerated in their 
 followers towards the barbarous religion and superstitious 
 mummeries of the Kalmuck priesthood — precisely in that 
 extent did the ferocity of the Eussian resentment, and their 
 wrath at seeing the trampled worm turn or attempt a feeble 
 retaliation, react upon the unfortunate Kalmucks. At this 
 crisis it is probable that envy and wounded pride, upon 
 witnessing the splendid victories of Oubacha and Momot- 
 bacha over the Turks and Bashkirs, contributed strength to 
 
 500 the Eussian irritation. And it must have been through the 
 intrigues of those nobles about her person, who chiefly 
 smarted under these feelings, that the Czarina could ever 
 have lent herself to the unwise and ungrateful policy 
 pursued at this critical period towards the Kalmuck Khan. 
 That Czarina was no longer Elizabeth Petrowna : it was 
 Catherine II. — a princess who did not often err so injuri- 
 ously (injuriously for herself as much as for others) in the 
 measures of her government. She had soon ample reason 
 for repenting of her false policy. Meantime, how much it 
 
 610 must have co-operated with the other motives previously 
 acting upon Oubacha in sustaining his determination to 
 revolt, and how powerfully it must have assisted the efforts 
 of all the Tartar chieftains in preparing the minds of their 
 
REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 15 
 
 people to feel the necessity of this difficult enterprise, by 
 arming their pride and their suspicions against the Russian 
 Government, through the keenness of their sympathy with 
 the wrongs of their insulted prince, may be readily imagined. 
 It is a fact, and it has been confessed by candid Russians 
 themselves, when treating of this great dismemberment, 
 that the conduct of the Russian Cabinet throughout the 520 
 period of suspense and during the crisis of hesitation in the 
 Kalmuck Council, was exactly such as was most desirable 
 for the purposes of the conspirators ; it was such, in fact, 
 as to set the seal to all their machinations, by supplying 
 distinct evidences and official vouchers for what could other- 
 wise have been, at the most, matters of doubtful suspicion 
 and indirect presumption. 
 
 Nevertheless, in the face of all these arguments, and 
 even allowing their weight so far as not at all to deny the 
 injustice or the impolicy of the imperial ministers, it 'is 530 
 contended by many persons who have reviewed the affair 
 with a command of all the documents bearing on the case, 
 more especially the letters or minutes of council subsequently 
 discovered in the handwriting of Zebek-Dorchi, and the 
 important evidence of the Russian captive Weselotf, who 
 was carried off by the Kalmucks jn their flight, that 
 beyond all doubt Oubacha was powefless for any purpose 
 of impeding or even of delaying the revolt. He himself, 
 indeed, was under religious obligations of the most terrific 
 solemnity never to flinch from the enterprise, or even to 540 
 slacken in his zeal : for Zebek-Dorchi, distrusting the 
 firmness of his resolution under any unusual pressure of 
 alarm or difficulty, had, in the very earliest stage of the 
 conspiracy, availed himself of the Khan's well-known super- 
 stition to engage him, by means of previous concert with 
 the priests and their head the Lama, in some dark and 
 mysterious rites of consecration, terminating in oaths under 
 such terrific sanctions as no Kalmuck would have courage 
 to violate. As far, therefore, as regarded the personal 
 share of the Khan in what was to come, Zebek was 550 
 entirely at his ease ; he knew him to be so deeply pledged 
 
i6 REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 
 
 by religious terrors to tlie prosecution of the conspiracy, 
 that no honours within the Czarina's gift could have 
 possibly shaken his adhesion : and then, as to threats, 
 from the same quarter, he knew him to be sealed against 
 those fears by others of a gloomier character, and better 
 adapted to his peculiar temperament. For Oubacha was 
 a brave man as respected all bodily enemies or the dangers 
 of human warfare, but was as sensitive and as timid as 
 
 560 the most superstitious of old women in facing the frowns 
 of a priest, or under the vague anticipations of ghostly 
 retributions. But, had it been otherwise, and had there 
 been any reason to apprehend an unsteady demeanour on 
 the part of this prince at the approach of the critical 
 moment, such were the changes already effected in the 
 state of their domestic politics amongst the Tartars, by 
 the undermining arts of Zebek-Dorchi and his ally the 
 Lama, that very little importance would have attached to 
 that doubt. All power was now effectually lodged in the 
 
 570 hands of Zebek-Dorchi. He was the true and absolute 
 wielder of the Kalmuck sceptre ; all measures of importance 
 were submitted to his discretion, and nothing was finally 
 resolved but under his dictation, This result he had 
 brought about, in a year or two, by means suf&ciently 
 simple; first of all, by availing himself of the prejudice 
 in his favour, so largely diffused amongst the lowest of 
 the Kalmucks, that his own title to the throne, in quality 
 of great-grandson in a direct line from Ajouka, the most 
 illustrious of all the Kalmuck Khans, stood upon a better 
 
 580 basis than that of Oubacha, who derived from a collateral 
 branch ; secondly, with respect to that sole advantage which 
 Oubacha possessed above himself in the ratification of his 
 title, by improving this difference between their situations 
 to the disadvantage of his competitor, as one who had 
 not scrupled to accept that triumph from an alien power 
 at the price of his independence, which he himself (as 
 he would have it understood) disdained to court ; thirdly, 
 -by his own talents and address, coiipled with the ferocious 
 energy of Ms moral character; fourthly — and perhaps in. 
 
REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 17 
 
 an equal degree — by the criminal facility and good-nature 590 
 of Oubacha ; finally (which is remarkable enough, as 
 illustrating the character of the man), by that very new 
 modelling of the Sarga or Privy Council which he had used 
 as a principal topic of abuse and malicious insinuation 
 against the Russian Government, whilst, in reality, he first 
 had suggested the alteration to the Empress, and he chiefly 
 appropriated the political advantages which it was fitted to 
 yield. For, as he was himself appointed the chief of the 
 Sargatchi, and as the pensions to the inferior Sargatchi 
 passed through his hands, whilst in effect they owed their 600 
 appointments to his nomination, it may be easily supposed 
 that, whatever power existed in the State capable of con- 
 trolling the Khan, being held by the Sarga under its new 
 organisation, and this body being completely under his 
 influence, the final result was to throw all the functions of 
 the State, whether nominally in the prince or in the council, 
 substantially into the hands of this one man ; whilst, at the 
 same time, from the strict league which he maintained with 
 the Lama, all the thunders of the spiritual power were 
 always ready to come in aid of the magistrate, or to supply 610 
 his incapacity in cases which he could not reach. 
 
 But the time was now rapidly approaching for the mighty 
 experiment. The day was drawing near on which the 
 signal was to be given for raising the standard of revolt, 
 and by a combined movement on both sides of the "Wolga 
 for spreading the smoke of one vast conflagration that 
 should wrap in a common blaze their own huts and the 
 stately cities of their enemies, over the breadth and length 
 of those great provinces in which their flocks were dis- 
 persed. The year of the tiger was now within one little 620 
 month of its commencement; the fifth morning of that 
 year was fixed for the fatal day when the fortunes and 
 happiness of a whole nation were to be put upon the hazard 
 of a dicer's throw, and as yet that nation was in profound 
 ignorance of the whole plan. The Khan, such was the 
 kindness of his nature, could not bring himself to make the 
 revelation so urgently required. It was clear, however, that 
 
i8 REVOLT 0:r THE TARTARS. 
 
 this could not' be delayed, and Zebek-Dorchi took the task 
 willingly upon himself. But where or how should this 
 
 630 notification be made, so as to exclude Eussian hearers ? 
 After some deliberation, the following plan was adopted : — 
 Couriers, it was contrived, should arrive in furious haste,, 
 one upon the heels of another, reporting a sudden inroad of 
 the Kirghises and Bashkirs upon the Kalmuck lands, at a 
 point distant about 120 miles. Thither all the Kalmuck, 
 families, according to immemorial custom, were required to 
 send a separate representative ; and there accordingly, within 
 three days, aU appeared. The distance, the solitary ground 
 appointed for the rendezvous, the rapidity, of the march, all 
 
 640 tended to make it almost certain that no Russian could be 
 present. Zebek-Dorchi then came forward. He did rot 
 waste many words upon rhetoric. He unfurled an immense 
 sheet of parchment, visible from the uttermost distance at 
 which any of this vast crowd could stand ; the total number 
 amounted to 80,000 ; all saw, and many heard. They were 
 told of the oppressions of Russia ; of her pride and haughty 
 disdain evidenced towards them by a thousand acts ; of her 
 contempt for their religion ; of her determination to reduce 
 them to absolute slavery ; of the preliminary measures she 
 
 650 had already taken by erecting forts upon many of the great 
 rivers in their neighbourhood ; of the ulterior intentions she 
 thus announced to circumscribe their pastoral lands, until 
 they would all be obliged to renounce their flocks, and to 
 collect iu towns like Sarepta, there to pursue mechanical and 
 servile trades of shoemaker, tailor, and weaver, such as- the 
 free-born Tartar had always disdained. " Then, again," said 
 the subtle prince, "she increases her military levies upon 
 our population every year ; we pour out our blood as young 
 men in her defence, or more often in support of her insolent 
 
 660 aggressions ; and as old men, we reap nothing from our 
 sufferings nor benefit by our survivorship where so many are 
 sacrificed." At this point of his harangue, Zebek produced 
 several papers (forged, as it is generally believed, by himself 
 and the Lama), containing projects of the Russian Court for 
 a general transfer of the eldest sons, taken era masse from 
 
REVOLT OF THE TARTARS.' 19 
 
 the grfea!teist Kalinuck families, to this imperial Court. " Now 
 leit this be once accomplished," he argued,' "and there is an 
 end of aU useful resistance from that day forwards. Peti- 
 tions we might make, or even remonstrances ; as men of 
 words we might play a bold part; but for deeds, for that 670 
 sbrt of language by which our ancestors were used to' speak 
 , -^holding us by such a chain, Russia would make a jest of 
 our wishes, knowing fuU well that we should not dare to 
 make any effectual movement." 
 
 Having thus suificiently- roused the angry passions of 
 his vast audience, and having alarmed their fears by this 
 pretended scheme against their first-born, (an artifice which 
 was indispensable to his purpose, because it met beforehand 
 every form of amendment to his proposal coming from the 
 more moderate nobles, who would not otherwise have failed 680 
 to insist upon trying the efifect of bold addresses to the 
 Empress, before resorting to any desperate extremity), 
 Zebek-Dorchi opened his scheme of revolt, and, if so, of 
 instant revolt, since any preparations reported at St. 
 Petersburg would be a signal for the armies of Eussia to 
 cross into such positions from all parts of Asia as would 
 effectually intercept their march. It is remarkable, how- 
 ever, that, with all his audacity and his reliance upon the'' 
 momentary excitement of the Kalmucks, the subtle prince i 
 did not vfenture, at this stage of his seduction, to make so 690 
 startling a proposal as that of a flight to China. AU that 1 
 he held out for the present was a rapid march to the Temba ■ 
 or some other great river, which they were to cross, and to ! 
 faike up a strong position on the farther bank, from which, \ 
 as from a post of conscious security, they could hold a bolder I 
 language to the Czarina, and one which would have a better \ 
 chance of winning a favourable audience. \ 
 
 These things, in the irritated ' condition of the . simple 
 Tartars, passed by acclainiation, and aU returned homewards 
 to push forward with the most furious speed the prepara- 700 
 tions for their awful undertaking. Rapid and energetic 
 these of necessity were, and in that degree they became 
 noticeable and manifest to the Russians who happened to 
 
20 REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 
 
 be intermingled with the different hordes either on com- 
 mercial errands, or as agents officially from the Eussian 
 Government, some in a financial, others in a diplomatic 
 character. 
 
 Amongst these last (indeed at the head of them) was a 
 Eussian of some distinction, by name Kichinskoi, a man 
 
 710 memorable for his vanity, and memorable also as one of the 
 many victims to the Tartar revolution. This Kichinskoi 
 had been sent by the Empress as her envoy to overlook the 
 conduct of the Kalmucks ; he was styled the Grand Pristaw, 
 or Great Commissioner, and was universally known amongst 
 the Tartar tribes by this title. His mixed character of 
 ambassador and of poKtical surveillant, combined with the 
 dependent state of the Kalmucks, gave him a real weight 
 in the Tartar councils, and might have given him a far 
 greater, had not his outrageous self-conceit, and his arrogant 
 
 720 confidence in his own authority, -as due chiefly to his 
 personal qualities for command, led him into such harsh dis- 
 plays of power, and menaces so odious to the Tartar pride, 
 as very soon made him an object of their profoundest 
 malice. He had publicly insulted the Khan ; and, upon 
 making a communication to him to the effect that some 
 reports began to circulate, and even to reach the Empress, 
 of a design in agitation to fly from the imperial dominions, 
 he had ventured to say, " But this you dare not attempt ; 
 I laugh at such rumours ; yes, Khan, I laugh at them to 
 
 730 the Empress j for you are a chained bear, and that you 
 know." The Khan turned away on his heel with marked 
 disdain, and the Pristaw, foaming at the mouth, continued 
 to utter, amongst those of the Khan's attendants who staid 
 behind to catch his real sentiments in a moment of un- 
 guarded passion, aU that the blindest frenzy of rage could 
 suggest to the most presumptuous of fools. It was now 
 ascertained that suspicions had arisen, but at the same time 
 it was ascertained that the Pristaw spoke no more than the 
 truth in representing himself to have discredited these 
 
 740 suspicions. The fact was, that the mere infatuation of 
 vanity made him believe that nothing could go on undetected 
 
REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 21 
 
 by his all-piercing sagacity, and that no rehellion could 
 prosper when rebuked by his commanding presence. The 
 Tartars, therefore, pursued their preparations, confiding in 
 the obstinate blindness of the Grand Pristaw as in their 
 perfect safeguard ; and such it proved — to his own ruin as 
 well as that of myriads beside. 
 
 Christmas arrived ; and, a little before that time, courier 
 upon courier came dropping in, one upon the very heels of 
 another, to St. Petersburg, assuring the Czarina that beyond 750 
 all doubt the Kalmucks were in the very crisis of departure. 
 These despatches came from the Governor of Astrachan, and 
 copies were instantly forwarded to Kichinskoi. Now, it 
 happened that between this governor — a Russian named 
 Beketoff — and the Pristaw had been an ancient feud. The 
 very name of Beketoff inflamed his resentment, and no 
 sooner did he see that hated name attached to the despatch 
 than he felt himseK confirmed in his former views with 
 tenfold bigotry, and wrote instantly, in terms of the most 
 pointed ridicule, against the new alarmist, pledging his own 76O 
 head upon the visionariness of his alarms. Beketoff, however, 
 was not to be put down by a few hard words or by ridicule : 
 he persisted in his statements ; the Russian ministry were 
 confounded by the obstinacy of the disputants, and some 
 were beginning even to treat the Governor of Astrachan as 
 a bore, and as the dupe of his own nervous terrors, when 
 the memorable day arrived, the fatal 5th of January, which 
 for ever terminated the dispute, and put a seal upon the 
 earthly hopes and fortunes of unnumbered myriads. The 
 Governor of Astrachan was the first to hear the news. 770 
 Stung by the mixed furies of jealousy, of triumphant ven- 
 geance, and of anxious ambition, he sprang into his sledge, 
 and, at the rate of 300 miles a day, pursued his route to St. 
 Petersburg — rushed into the imperial presence — announced 
 the total realisation of his worst predictions — and upon the 
 confirmation of this intelligence by subsequent despatches 
 from many different posts on the "Wolga, he received an 
 imperial commission to seize the person of his deluded enemy, 
 and to keep him in strict captivity. These orders were 
 
22 REVOlJr OF THE T4RTARS. 
 
 780 eagerly fulfilled, and the unfortunate Klchinskoi soon 
 afterwards expired of grief and mortification in the gloomy 
 solitude of a dungeon — victim to his own immeasurable 
 vanity and the blinding self-delusions of a presumption that 
 refused all warning. 
 
 The Governor of Astrachan had been but too faithful a 
 
 prophet. Perhaps even 7ie vras surprised at the suddenness 
 
 , with which the verification followed his reports. Precisely 
 
 on the 5th of January, the day so solemnly appointed under 
 
 ' religious sanctions by the Lama, the Kalmucks on the east 
 
 790 bank of the Wolga were seen at the earliest dawn of day 
 assembling by troops and squadrons, as in the tumultuous 
 movement of some great morning of battle. Tens of 
 thousands continued moving off the ground at every half- 
 hour's interval. Women and children, to the amount of 
 two hundred thousand and upwards, were placed upon 
 waggons, or upon camels, and drew off by masses of twenty 
 thousand at once — placed under suitable escorts, and con- 
 tinually swelled in numbers by other outlying bodies of the 
 horde, who kept falling in at various distances upon the first 
 
 800 and second day's march. From sixty to eighty thousand 
 of those who were the best mounted staid behind the rest 
 of the tribes, with purposes of devastation and plunder more 
 violent than prudence justified, or the amiable character of 
 the Khan could be supposed to approve. But in this, as in 
 other instances, he was completely overruled by the ma- 
 lignant counsels of Zebek-Dorchi. The first tempest of the 
 desolating fury of the Tartars discharged itself upon their 
 own habitations. But this, as cutting off all infirm looking 
 backward from the hardships of their march, had been 
 
 810 thought so necessary a measure by all the chieftains, that 
 even Oubacha himself was the first to authorise the act by 
 his own example. He seized a torch previously prepared 
 with materials the most durable as well as combustible, and 
 steadily applied it to the timbers of his own palace. Nothing 
 was saved from the general wreck except the portable part 
 of the domestic utensils and that part of the wood-work 
 which could be applied to the manufacture of the long 
 
REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 23 
 
 Tartar lances. This chapter in their memorable day's work 
 being finished, and the whole of their villages throughout 
 a district of ten thousand square miles in one simultaneous 820 
 blaze, the Tartars waited for further orders. 
 
 These, it was intended, should have taken a character 
 of valedictory vengeance, and thus have left behind to the 
 Czarina a dreadful commentary upon the main motives of 
 their flight. It was the purpose of Zebek-Dorchi that all 
 the Eussian towns, churches, and buildings of every descrip- 
 tion, should be given up to pillage and destruction, and 
 such treatment applied to the defenceless inhabitants as 
 might naturally be expected from a fierce people already 
 infuriated by the spectacle of their own outrages, and by 830 
 the bloody retaliations which they must necessarily have 
 provoked. This part of the tragedy, however, was happily 
 intercepted by a providential disappointment at the very 
 crisis of departure. It has been mentioned already that 
 the motive for selecting the depth of winter as the season 
 of flight, (which otherwise was obvioixsly the very worst 
 possible), had been the impossibility of effecting a junction 
 sufJficiently rapid with the tribes on the west of the Wolga, . 
 in the absence of bridges, unless by a natural bridge of ice. ' 
 I'or this one advantage the Kalmuck leaders had consented 840 
 to aggravate by a thousandfold the calamities inevitable to 
 a rapid flight over boundless tracts of country, with women, 
 children, and herds of cattle — for this one single advantage ; 
 and yet, after all, it was lost. The reason never has been f 
 explained satisfactorily, but the fact was such. Some have 
 said that the signals were not properly concerted for marking 
 the moment of absolute departure — that is, for signifying 
 whether the settled intention of the Eastern Kalmucks 
 might not have been suddenly interrupted by adverse in- ' 
 telligence. Others have supposed that the ice might not be 850 
 equally strong on both sides of the river, and might even 
 be generally insecure for the treading of heavy and heavily- 
 laden animals such as camels. But the prevailing notion ,' 
 is, that some accidental movements on the 3rd and 4th off ■ 
 January of Russian troops in the neighbourhood of the \ 
 
24 REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 
 
 Western Kalimicks, though really having no reference to 
 them or their plans, had been construed into certain signs 
 that all was discovered, and that the prudence of the 
 "Western chieftains, who, from situation, had never been ex- 
 
 860 posed to those intrigues by which Zebek-Dorchi had prac- 
 tised upon the pride of the Eastern tribes, now stepped in 
 to save their people from ruin. Be the cause what it 
 might, it is certain that the "Western Kalmucks were in 
 some way prevented from forming the intended junction 
 with their brethren of the opposite bank ; and the result 
 was, that at least one hundred thousand of these Tartars 
 were left behind in Russia. This accident it was which 
 saved their Russian neighbours universally from the desola- 
 tion which else awaited them. One general massacre and 
 
 870 conflagration would assuredly have surprised them, to the 
 utter extermination of their property, their houses, and 
 themselves, had it not been for this disappointment. But 
 the Eastern chieftains did not dare to put to hazard the 
 safety of their brethren under the first impulse of the 
 Czarina's vengeance for so dreadful a tragedy ; for, as they 
 were well aware of too many circumstances by which she 
 might discover the concurrence of the Western people in 
 the general scheme of revolt, they justly feared that she 
 would thence infer their concurrence also in the bloody 
 
 880 events which marked its outset. 
 
 Little did the Western Kalmucks guess what reasons 
 they also had for gratitude on account of an interposition so 
 unexpected, and which at the moment they so generally de- 
 plored. Could they but have witnessed the thousandth 
 part of the sufferings which overtook their Eastern brethren 
 in the first month of their sad flight, they would have 
 blessed Heaven for their own narrow escape ; and yet these 
 sufferings of the first month were but a prelude or foretaste 
 comparatively slight of those which afterwards succeeded. 
 
 890 For now began to unroU the most awful series of 
 calamities, and the most extensive which is anywhere re- 
 corded to have visited the sons and daughters of men. It 
 is possible that the sudden inroads of destroying nations, 
 
REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 25 
 
 such as the Huns or the Avars or the Mongol Tartars, may- 
 have inflicted misery as extensive, but there the misery 
 and the desolation would be sudden, like the flight of 
 volleying lightning. Those who were spared at first would 
 generally be spared to the end ; those who perished at all 
 would perish at once. It is possible that the French retreat 
 from Moscow may have made some nearer, approach to this 900 
 calamity iu duration, though still a feeble and miniature 
 approach, for the French sufferings did not commence in 
 good earnest until about one month from the time of leav- 
 ing Moscow ; and though it is true that afterwards the vials 
 of wrath were emptied upon the devoted army for six or 
 seven weeks in succession, yet what is that to this Kalmuck 
 tragedy, which lasted for more than as many months 1 
 But the main feature of horror by which the Tartar march 
 was distinguished from the French, lies in the accompani- 
 ment of women* and children. There were both, it is true, 910 
 with the French army, but not so many as to bear any 
 marked proportion to the total numbers concerned. The 
 French, in short, were merely an army — a host of pro- 
 fessional destroyers, whose regular trade was bloodshed and 
 whose regular element was danger and suffering. But the 
 Tartars were a nation carrying along with them more than 
 two hundred and fifty thousand women and children, 
 utterly unequal, for the most part, to any contest with the 
 calamities before them. The Children of Israel were in 
 the same circumstances as to the accompaniment of their 920 
 families, but they were released from the pursuit of their 
 enemies in a very early stage of their flight; and their 
 subsequent residence in the Desert was not a march, but a 
 continued halt, and under a continued interposition of 
 Heaven for their comfortable support. Earthquakes, again, 
 however comprehensive in their ravages, are shocks of a 
 
 * Singular it is, and not generally known, that Grecian women 
 accompanied the avidba$i$ of tiie younger Cyrus and the subsequent 
 Retreat of the Ten Thousand. Xenophon affirms that there were 
 ' ' many " women in the Greek army — ttoWoI riaav %TaXpai 4v^ r^ trrpo- 
 TeifiaTi ; and in a late stage of that trying expedition it is evident 
 that women were amongst the survivors. 
 
26 REVOLT OF THE T4fiTARS. 
 
 moment's duration, A mnch nearer approach made to the 
 wide range and the long duration of the Kalmuck tragedy 
 may have been in a pestilence such as that which visited 
 
 930 Athens in the Peloponnesian War, or London in the reign 
 of Charles II. There also the martyrs were counted by 
 myriads, and the period of the desolation was counted by 
 months. But, after aU, the total amount of destruction was 
 on a smaller scale, and there was this feature of allevi- 
 ation to the conseiotts pressure of the calamity — that the 
 misery was withdrawn from public notice into private 
 chambers and hospitals. The siege of Jerusalem by Vespasian 
 and his son, taken in its entire circumstances, comes nearest 
 of all — for breadth and depth of suffering, for duration, for 
 
 940 the exasperation of the suffering from without by internal 
 feuds, and, finally, for that last most appalling expression 
 of the furnace-heat of the anguish in its power to ex- 
 tinguish the natural affections even of maternal love. But, 
 after all, each case had circumstances of romantic misery 
 peculiar to itself — circumstances without precedent and 
 (wherever human nature is ennobled by Christianity) it 
 may be confidently hoped, never to be repeated. 
 
 The first point to be reached, before any hope of repose 
 could be encouraged, was the river Jaik. This was not 
 
 950 above 300 miles from the main point of departure on the 
 Wolga, and if the march thither was to be a forced one 
 and a severe one, it was alleged, on the other hand, that the 
 suffering would be the more brief and transient ; one sum- 
 mary exertion, not to be repeated, and aU. was achieved. 
 Forced the march was, and severe beyond example : there 
 the forewarning proved correct, but the promised rest proved 
 a mere phantom of the wilderness — a visionary rainbow 
 which fled before their hope-sick eyes across these intermin- 
 able solitudes, for seven months of hardship and calamity, 
 
 960 without a pause. These sufferings, by their very nature 
 and the circumstances under which they arose, were (like 
 the scenery of the steppes) somewhat monotonous in their 
 colouring and external features ; what variety, however, there 
 was, will be most naturally exhibited by tracing historically 
 
REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 27 
 
 ,the successive ^tpgep f>i tlie general inigery, ejcaetly as it 
 unfolded itself under the double agency of weakness stOl 
 increasing from within .and hostile pressure from without. 
 "Viewed in this manner, under the real order of development, 
 it is remarkable that these sufferings of the Tartars, though 
 under the moulding hands of accident, arrange themselves 970 
 almost with a scenical pj;opriety. Ttiey seem combined as 
 with the skill of an artist : the intensity of the misery 
 advancing regularly with the advances of the march, an(J 
 the stages of the calamity corresponding to the stages of the 
 route, so that, upon raising the curtain which veils the 
 great catastrophe^ we behold one vast climax of anguish, 
 towering upwards by regular gradations, as if constructed 
 artificially for picturesque effect — a result which might not 
 have been surprising had it been reasonable to anticipate the 
 same rate of speed, and even an accelerated rate, as prevail- 980 
 ing through the later stages of the expedition. But it 
 seemed, on the contrary, most reasonable to calculate upon a 
 continual decrement in the rate of motion according to the 
 increasing distance from the head-quarters of the pursuing 
 enemy. This calculation, however, was defeated by the 
 extraordinary circumstance that the Russian armies did not 
 begin to close in very fiercely upon the Kalmucks until after 
 they had accomplished a distance of full 2iHHljniles ; IQOp 
 miles farther on the assaults became even more tumultuous 
 and murderous ; and already the great shadows of the 990 
 Chinese Walk were 4i™ly descried when the frenzy and_ 
 aeharnement of tiie pursuers, and the bloody desperation of 
 the miserable fugitives, had reached its uttermost extremity. 
 Let us briefly rehearse the main stages of the misery and 
 trace the ascending steps of the tragedy, according to the 
 great divisions of the route marked out by the central rivers 
 of Asia. 
 
 The first stage, we have already said, was from the Wolga 
 to the Jaik ; the distance about 300 miles ; the time allowed 
 seven days. For the first week, therefore, the rate of march-iooo 
 ing averaged about 43 English miles a day. The weather | 
 was pold, but bracing, and, at a more moderate pace, this 
 
28 REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 
 
 part of the journey might have been accomplished without 
 much distress by a people as hardy as the Kalmucks : as it 
 was, the cattle suffered greatly from overdriving; milk 
 began to fail even for the children ; the sheep perished by 
 wholesale ; and the children themselves were saved only by 
 the innumerable camels. 
 
 The Cossacks, who dwelt upon the banks of the Jaik, 
 
 1010 were the first among the subjects of Russia to come into 
 collision with the Kalmucks. Great was their surprise at 
 the suddenness of the irruption, and great also their conster- 
 nation ; for, according to their settled custom, by far the 
 greater part of their number was absent during the winter 
 months at the fisheries upon the Caspian. Some who were 
 liable to surprise at the most exposed pomts, fled in crowds 
 to the fortress of Koulagina, which was immediately in- 
 vested, and summoned by Oubacha. He had, however, in 
 his train, only a few light pieces of artillery, and the 
 
 1020 Russian commandant at Koulagina, being aware of the 
 hurried circumstances in which the Khan was placed, and 
 that he stood upon the very edge, as it were, of a renewed 
 flight, felt encouraged by these considerations to a more 
 obstinate resistance than might else have been advisable 
 with an enemy so little disposed to observe the usages of 
 civilised warfare. The period of his anxiety was not long : 
 on the fifth day of the siege, he descried from the walls a 
 succession of Tartar couriers, mounted upon fleet Bactrian 
 camels, crossing the vast plains around the fortress at a 
 
 1030 furious pace, and riding into the Kalmuck encampment at 
 various points. Great agitation appeared immediately to 
 follow : orders were soon after despatched in all directions, 
 and it became speedily known that upon a distant flank of 
 the Kalmuck movement a bloody and exterminating battle 
 had been fought the day before, in which one entire tribe 
 of the Khan's dependants, numbering not less than 9000 
 fighting men, had perished to the last man. This was the 
 ouloss, or clan, called Feka-Zechorr, between whom and the 
 Cossacks there was a feud of ancient standing. In selecting, 
 
 1040 therefore, the points of attack, on occasion of the present 
 
REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 29 
 
 Ihasty inroad, the Cossack chiefs were naturally eager so to 
 direct their efforts as to combine with the service of the 
 Empress some gratification to their own party hatreds : more 
 especially as the present was likely to be their final oppor- 
 tunity for revenge if the Kalmuck evasion should prosper. 
 Having, therefore, concentrated as large a body of Cossack 
 cavalry as circumstances allowed, they attacked the hostile 
 ouloss with a precipitation which denied to it all means 
 for communicating with Oubacha ; for the necessity of 
 commanding an ample range of pasturage, to , meet the 1050 
 necessities of their vast flocks and herds, had separated 
 this ouloss from the Khan's head-quarters by an interval of 
 80 miles : and thus it was; and not from oversight, that it 
 came to be thrown entirely upon its own resources. These 
 had proved insufficient ; retreat, from the exhausted state 
 of their horses and camels, no less than from the prodigious 
 encumbrances of their live stock, was absolutely out of the 
 question ; quarter was disdained on the one side, and would 
 not have been granted on the other : and thus it had 
 happened that the setting sun of that one day (the thir- 1060 
 teenth from the first opening of the revolt) threw his 
 parting rays upon the final agonies of an ancient ouloss, 
 stretched upon a bloody field, who on that day's dawning 
 had held and styled themselves an independent nation. 
 
 Universal consternation was diffused through the wide 
 borders of the Khan's encampment by this disastrous 
 intelligence, not so much on account of the numbers slain, 
 or the total extinction of a powerful ally, as because the 
 position of the Cossack force was likely to put to hazard the 
 future advances of the Kalmucks, or at least to retard and 1070 
 hold them in check until the heavier columns of the Eussian 
 army should arrive upon their flanks. The siege of Koula- 
 gina was instantly raised, and that signal, so fatal to the 
 happiness of the women and their children, once again re- 
 sounded through the tents — the signal for flight, and this 
 time for a flight more rapid than ever. About 150 milesj 
 ahead of their present position, there arose a tract of hiUyi 
 country, forming a sort of margin to the vast sea-like ex- ^ 
 
30 REVOLT OF THE TARTARS: 
 
 panse of champaign savannahs, steppes, and odcsisibnally of 
 
 1080 sandy deserts, which stTetched awky on each side of this 
 margin both eastwards and westWstrd^. Pretty nearly in the 
 centre of this hilly range lay a narrow defile, through which 
 passed the nearest and the most practicable route to the river 
 Torgai (the farther bank of which river offered the next 
 great station of security for a general halt). It was the 
 more essential to gain this pass before the Cossacks; inas-* 
 much as not only would the delay in' forcing the pass give 
 time to the Eussian pursuing columns for combining their 
 attacks, and for bringing up their artillery, but also because 
 
 1090 (even if all enemies in pursuit were thrown Out of the 
 question) it was held by those best acquainted with the 
 difficult and obscure geography of these pathless steppes 
 that the loss of this one narrow strait amongst the hills would 
 have the effect of throwing them (as their only alternative in 
 a case where so wide a sweep of pasturage was required) 
 upon a circuit of at least 500 miles extra ; besides that, 
 after all, this circuitous route would carry them to the Tdrglai' 
 at a point iU fitted for the passage of their heavy baggage. ' 
 The defile in the hills, therefore, it was resolved to gain, 
 
 1100 and yet, unless they moved upon it with the velocity of" 
 light cavalry, there was little chance but it would be found 
 preoccupied by the Cossacks. They also, it is true, had 
 suffered greatly in the bloody action with the defeated 
 ouloss ; but the excitement of victory, and the in tense' 
 sympathy with their unexampled triumph, had again swelled 
 their ranks, and would probably act with the force of a vortex'' 
 to draw in their simple countrymen from the Caspian. The 
 question, therefore, of preoccupation was reduced to a racel 
 The Cossacks were riiarching upon an oblique line not above 
 
 1110 50 miles longer than that which led to the' same point from 
 
 the Kalmuck head-quarters before Koulagina ; and therefore, 
 
 without the most furious haste on the part of the Kalmucks, 
 
 there was not a chance for them, burdened and " trashed " * 
 
 * " Trashed : " — This is an expressive word used by Beaumont and 
 Fletcher in their " Bonduca,"&o., to describe the case of a person 
 retarded and embarrassed in flight, or in pursuit, by some encumbrance, 
 whether thing or person, too valuable to be left behind. 
 
REVOLT O-F THE TARTARS. 31 
 
 as they" were, to Anticipate so agile & light cavalry as the 
 Cossacks in seizing this important pass; ^ 
 
 Dreadful were the feeliiigS of the poor women on hearing 
 this exposition of the case, for they easily understood that 
 too capital an interest (the summa reruni) was now at stake, 
 to allow of any regard to minor interests, or what would be 
 considered such in their present circumstances. The dread- 1120 
 ful week already passed — their inaugurSition in misery — was 
 yet fresh in their remembrance. The scars of suffering were 
 ii&pressed not only upon their memories, but upon their very 
 persons and the persons of their children. And they knew 
 that where no speed had iliuch chance of meeting the crav- 
 ings of the" chieftains, no test would be accepted, short of 
 absolute exhaustion, that as riiuch had been accomplished 
 as could have been accomplished. Weseloff, the Russian 
 captive, has recorded the silent wretchedness with which the 
 women and elder boys assisted in drawing the tent-ropes. 1130 
 On the 5th of January, all had been animation and the 
 joyousness of indefinite expectation ; now, on the contrary, 
 a brief but bitter experience had taught them to take an 
 amended calculation of what it was that lay before them. 
 
 One whole day and far into the succeeding night had the 
 renewed flight continued; the sufierings had been greater 
 than before, for the cold had been more intense, and many 
 perished out of the living creatures through every' class, 
 except only the camels — ^whose powers of endurance seemed 
 equally adapted to cold and to heat. The second morning, 1140 
 however, brought an alleviation to the distress. Snow had 
 begun to fall, and though not deep at present, it was easily 
 foreseen that it soon would be so, and that, as a halt would 
 in that case become unavoidable, no plan could be better 
 than that of staying where they were, especially as the same 
 cause would check the advance-of " the Cossacks. Here, then, 
 was the last interval of comfort which gleamed upon the un- 
 happy nation during their whole migration. Fot ten days 
 the snow continued to fall with little intermission. At the 
 end of that time keen, bright, frosty weather succeeded ; the 1150 
 drifting had - ceased j in three days the smooth expanse 
 
32 REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 
 
 became firm enough to support the treading of the camels, 
 and the flight was recommenced. But during the halt much 
 domestic comfort had been enjoyed, and for the last time 
 universal plenty. The cows and oxen had perished in such 
 vast numbers on the previous marches, that an order was 
 now issued to turn what remained to account by slaughtering 
 the whole, and salting whatever part should be found to 
 exceed the immediate consumption. This measure led to 
 
 1160 a scene of general banqueting, and even of festivity, amongst 
 all who were not incapacitated for joyoiis emotions by 
 distress of mind, by grief for the unhappy experience of the 
 .few last days, and by anxiety for the too gloomy future. 
 \ Seventy thousand persons of all ages had already perished, 
 igxclusively of the many thousand allies who had been cut 
 down by the Cossack sabre. And the losses in reversion 
 were likely to be many more, for rumours began now to 
 arrive from all quarters, by the mounted couriers whom the 
 Khan had despatched to the rear and to each flank as well 
 
 1170 as in advance, that large masses of the imperial troops were 
 converging from all parts of Central Asia to the fords of the 
 river Torgai, as the most convenient point for intercepting 
 the flying tribes, and it was by this time well known that a 
 powerful division was close in their rear, and was retarded 
 only by the numerous artillery which had been judged 
 necessary tosupport their operations. New motives were 
 thus daily arising for quickening the motions of the wretched 
 Kalmucks, and for exhausting those who were already but 
 too much exhausted. 
 
 1180 It was not untU the 2nd day of February that the Khan's 
 advanced guard came in sight of Ouchim, the defile among 
 the hills of Mougaldchares, in which they anticipated so 
 bloody an opposition from the Cossacks. A pretty large 
 body of these light cavalry had, in fact, preoccupied the 
 pass by some hours, but the Khan having two great 
 advantages — ^namely, a strong body of infantry, who had 
 been conveyed by sections of five on about 200 camels, and 
 some pieces of light artillery which he had not yet been 
 forced to abandon — soon began to make a serious impression 
 
REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. J3 
 
 upon this unsupported detachment, and they would probably ligft 
 at any rate have retired, but at the very moment when 
 they were making some dispositions in that view Zebek- 
 Dorchi appeared upon the rear with a body of trained riflemen, 
 who had distinguished themselves in the war with Turkey. 
 These men had contrived to crawl unobserved over the cliffe 
 which skirted the ravine, availing themselves of the dry 
 beds of the summer torrents, and other inequalities of the 
 ground, to conceal their movement. Disorder and trepida- 
 tion ensued instantly in the Cossack files ; the Khan, who 
 had been waiting with the Mite of his heavy cavalry, charged 1200 
 furiously upon them ; total overthrow followed to the 
 Cossacks, and a slaughter such as in some measure avenged 
 the recent bloody extermination of their allies, the ancient 
 ouloss of Feka-Zechorr. The slight horses of the Cossacks 
 were unable to support the weight of heavy Polish dragoons 
 and a body of trained cameleers (that is, cuirassiers mounted 
 on camels) ; hardy they were, but not strong, nor a match for 
 their antagonists in weight, and their extraordinary efforts 
 through the last few days to gain their present position 
 had greatly diminished their powers for effecting an escape. 1210 
 Very few, in fact, did escape, and the bloody day at 
 Ouchim became as memorable amongst the Cossacks as that 
 which, about twenty days before, had signalised the com- 
 plete annihilation of the Feka-Zechorr.* 
 
 The road was now open to the river Irgiteh, and as yet 
 even far beyond it to the Torgau ; but how long this state 
 
 * There was another ouloss equally strong with that of Feka- 
 Zeohorr, viz., that of Erketunn, under the government of Assarcho 
 and Machi, whom some obligations of treaty or other hidden motives 
 drew into the general conspiracy of revolt. But fortunately the two 
 chieftains found means to assure the Governor of Astrachan, on the 
 first outbreak of the insurrection, tliat their real wishes were for 
 maintaining the old connection with Russia. The Cossacks, therefore, 
 to whom the pursuit was intrusted, had instructions to act cautiously 
 and according to circumstances on coming up with them. The result 
 was, through the prudent management of Assarcho, that the clan, 
 without compromising their pride or independence," made such 
 moderate submissions as satisfied the Cossacks, and eventually both 
 chiefs and people received from the Czarina the rewards and honours 
 of exemplary fidelity. 
 
 
 
34 REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 
 
 of things would continue, was every day more doubtful. 
 Certain intelligence was now received that a large Russian 
 army, well appointed in every arm, was advancing upon the 
 
 1220 Torgau, under the command of General Traubenberg. This 
 officer was to be joined on his route by ten thousand Bash- 
 kirs and pretty nearly the same amount of Kirghises — 
 both hereditary enemies of the Kalmucks, both exasperated 
 to a point of madness by the bloody trophies which 
 Oubacha and Momotbacba had, in late years, won from 
 such of their compatriots as served under the Sultan. The 
 Czarina's yoke these wild nations bore with submissive 
 patience, but not the hands by which it had been imposed, 
 and, accordingly, catching with eagerness at the present 
 
 1230 occasion offered to their vengeance, they sent an assurance 
 to the Czarina of their perfect obedience to her commands, 
 and at the same time a message significantly declaring in 
 what spirit they meant to execute them, viz., " that they 
 would not trouble her Majesty with prisoners." 
 
 Here then arose, as before with the Cossacks, a race for 
 the Kalmucks with the regular armies of Russia, and con- 
 currently with nations as fierce and semi-hunianised as 
 themselves, besides that they had been stung into threefold 
 activity by the furies of mortified pride and military abase- 
 
 1240 ment under the eyes of the Turkish Sultan. The forces, 
 and more especially the artillery, of Russia were far too 
 overwhelming to bear the thought of a regular opposition in 
 pitched battles, even with a less dilapidated state of their 
 resources than they could reasonably expect at the period 
 of their arrival on the Torgau. In their speed lay their 
 only hope — in strength of foot, as before, and not in 
 strength of arm. Onward, therefore, the Kalmucks pressed, 
 marking the lines of their wide-extending march over the 
 sad solitudes of the steppes by a never-ending chain of 
 
 1250 corpses. The old and the young, the sick man on his couch, 
 the mother with her baby — all were dropping fast. Sights 
 such as these, with the many rueful aggravations incident 
 to the helpless condition of infancy — of disease and of 
 female weakness abandoned to the wolves amidst a howling 
 
REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 35 
 
 ■wilderness, continued to track their course througha space 
 of full two thousand miles, for so much, at the least, it was 
 likely to prove, including the circuits to ' which they were 
 often compelled by rivers or hostile tribes, from the point of 
 starting on the "Wolga, until they could reach their destined 
 halting ground on the east bank of the Torgau. For the 1260 
 first seven weeks of this march their sufferings had been (^ 
 embittered by the excessive severity of the cold, and every 
 night — so long as wood was to be had for fires either from 
 the lading of the camels, or from the desperate sacrifice of 
 their baggage-waggons, or (as occasionally happened) from 
 the forests which skirted the banks of the many rivers 
 which crossed their path — no spectacle was more frequent 
 than that of a circle, composed of men, women, and chil- 
 dren gathered by hundreds round a central fire, all dead 
 and stiff at the return of morning light. Myriads were left 1270 
 behind from pure exhaustion, of whom none had a chance, 
 under the combined evils which beset them, of surviving 
 through the next twenty-four hours. Frost, however, and 
 snow at length ceased to persecute ; the vast extent of the 
 march at length brought them into more genial latitudes, 
 and the unusual duration of the march was gradually bring- 
 ing them into more genial seasons of the year. ' Two 
 t}iousand miles had at last been traversed ; February, 
 March, April^'were gone ; the balmy month of May had 
 opened ; vernal sights and sounds came from every side to 128O 
 comfort the heart-weary travellers, and at last, in the 
 latter end of May, crossing the Torgau, they took up a 
 position where they hoped to find liberty to repose them- 
 selves for many weeks in comfort as well as in security, 
 and to draw such supplies from the fertile neighbourhood 
 as might restore their shattered forces to a condition for 
 executing, with less of wreck and ruin, the large remainder 
 of the journey. 
 
 Yes : it was true that two thousand miles of wandering 
 had been completed, but in a period of nearly five months, 1290 
 and with the terrific sacrifice of at least two hundred" "aJnd 
 ^3 thousand souls, to say nothing of herds and flocks past 
 
36 REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 
 
 all reckoning. These had all perished: ox, cow, horse, 
 mule, ass, sheep, or goat, not one survived — only the camels. 
 These arid and adust creatures, looking like the mummies of 
 some antediluvian animals, without the affections or sensi- 
 bilities of flesh and blood — these only still erected their 
 speaking eyes to the eastern heavens, and had to all appear- 
 ance come out from this long tempest of trial unscathed and 
 
 1300 hardly diminished. The Khan, knowing how much he was 
 individually answerable for the misery which had been 
 sustained, must have wept tears even more bitter than those 
 of Xerxes, when he threw his eyes over the myriads whom 
 he had assembled : for the tears of Xerxes were unmingled 
 with remorse. Whatever amends were in his power, the 
 Khan resolved to make by sacrifices to the general good of 
 all personal regards ; and, accordingly, even at this point of 
 their advance, he once more deliberately brought under re- 
 view the whole question of the revolt. The question was 
 
 1310 formally debated before the Council, whether, even at this 
 point, they should untread their steps, and, throwing them- 
 selves upon the Czarina's mercy, return to their old allegi- 
 ance % In that case, Oubacha professed himself willing to 
 become the scapegoat for the general transgression. This, 
 he argued, was no fantastic scheme, but even easy of 
 accomplishment, for the unlimited and sacred power of the 
 Khan, so well known to the Empress, made it absolutely 
 iniquitous to attribute any separate responsibility to the 
 people — ^upon the Khan rested the guilt, upon the Klian 
 
 1320 would descend the imperial vengeance. This proposal was 
 applauded for its generosity, but was energetically opposed 
 by Zebek-Dorchi. Were they to lose the whole journey of 
 two thousand miles ? Was their misery to perish without 
 ,f rait ? True it was that they had yet reached only the half- 
 way house ; but, in that respect, the motives were evenly 
 ' balanced for retreat or for advance. Either way they would 
 have pretty nearly the same distance to traverse, but with 
 this difference — that, forwards, their route lay through lands 
 comparatively fertile ; backwards, through a blasted wilder- 
 
 1330 ness, rich only in memorials of their sorrow, and hideous to 
 
REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 37 
 
 Kalmuck eyes by the trophies of their calamity. Besides, 
 though the Empress might accept an excuse for the past, 
 would she the less forbear to suspect for the future ? The 
 Czarina's pardon they might obtain, but could they ever 
 hope to recover her confidence ? Doubtless there would now 
 be a standing presumption against them, an immortal ground 
 of jealousy ; and a jealous government would be but another 
 name for a harsh one. Finally, whatever motives there 
 ever had been for the revolt surely remained unimpaired by 
 anything that had occurred. In reality, the revolt was, 1340 
 after all, no revolt, but (strictly speaking) a return to their 
 old allegiance, since, not above one hundred and fifty years 
 ago (viz., in the year 1616), their ancestors had revolted 
 from the Emperor of China. They had now tried both 
 governments, and for them China was the land of promise 
 and Russia the house of bondage. 
 
 Spite, however, of all that Zebek could say or do, the 
 yearning of the people was strongly in behalf of the Khan's 
 proposal ; the pardon of their prince, they persuaded them- 
 selves, would be readily conceded by the Empress, and 1350 
 there is little doubt that they would at this time have 
 thrown themselves gladly upon the imperial mercy, when 
 suddenly all was defeated by the arrival of two envoys from 
 Traubenberg. This general had reached the fortress of Orsk, 
 after a very painful march, on the 1 2th of April ; thence 
 he set forwards towards Oriembourg, which he reached upon 
 the 1st of June, having been joined on his route at various 
 times during the month of May by the Kirghises and a corps 
 of ten thousand Bashkirs. From Oriembourg he sent for- 
 ward his official offers to the Khan, which were harsh and 1360 
 peremptory, holding out no specific stipulation as to pardon 
 or impunity, and exacting unconditional submission as the 
 preliminary price of any cessation from military operations. 
 The personal character of Traubenberg, which was anything 
 but energetic, and the condition of his army, disorganised in 
 a great measure by the length and severity of the march, 
 made it probable that, with a little time for negotiation, a 
 more conciliatory tone would have been assumed. But, un- 
 
38 REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 
 
 happily for all parties, sinister events occurred in the 
 
 1370 meantime, such as effectually put an end to every hope of 
 the kind. 
 
 The two envoys sent forward by Traubenberg had 
 reported to this officer that a distance of only ten days' 
 march lay between his own head-quarters and those of the 
 Khan. Upon this fact transpiring, the Kirghises, by their 
 Prince Nourali, and the Bashkirs, entreated the Eussian 
 general to advance without delay. Once having placed his 
 cannon in position, so as to command the Kalmuck camp, 
 the fate of the rebel Khan and his people would be in his 
 
 1380 own hands, and they would themselves form his advanced 
 guard. Traubenberg, however, (««% has not been certainly 
 explained), refused to march, grounding his refusal upon 
 the condition of his army, and their absolute need of refresh- 
 ment. Long and fierce was the altercation : but at length, 
 seeing no chance of prevailing, and dreading above aU other 
 events the escape of their detested enemy, the ferocious 
 Bashkirs went off in a body by forced marches. In six 
 days they reached the Torgau, crossed by swimming their 
 horses, and fell upon the Kalmucks, who were dispersed for 
 
 1390 many a league in search of food or provender for their 
 camels. The first day's action was one vast succession of 
 independent skirmishes, diffused over a field of thirty to 
 forty mUes in extent ; one party often breaking up into 
 three or four, and again (according to the accidents of 
 ground) three or four blending into one ; flight and pursuit, 
 rescue and total overthrow, going on simultaneously, under 
 all varieties of form, in all quarters of the plain. The 
 Bashkirs had found themselves obliged, by the scattered 
 state of the Kalmucks, to split up into innumerable sections, 
 
 1400 and thus, for some hours, it had been impossible for the 
 most practised eye to collect the general tendency of the 
 day's fortune. Both the Khan and Zebek-Dorchi were at 
 one moment made prisoners, and more than once in immi' 
 nent danger of being cut down ; but at length Zebek suc- 
 ceeded in rallying a strong column of infantry, which, with 
 the support of the camel-corps on each flank, compelled the 
 
REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 39 
 
 Bashkirs to retreat. Clouds, however, of these wild cavalry 
 ■continued to arrive through the next two days and nights, 
 followed or accompanied by the Kirghises. These being 
 viewed as the advanced parties of Traubenberg's army, the 1410 
 Kalmuck chieftains saw no hope of safety but in flight, 
 and in this way it happened that a retreat, which had so 
 recently been brought to a pause, was resumed at the very 
 moment when the unhappy fugitives were anticipating a 
 deep repose without further molestation the whole summer 
 through. 
 
 It seemed as though every variety of wretchedness were 
 predestined to the Kalmucks, and as if their sufi'erings were 
 incomplete, unless they were rounded and matured by all 
 that the most dreadful agencies of summer's heat could 1420 
 superadd to those of frost and winter. To this sequel of 
 their story I shall immediately revert, after first noticing a 
 little romantic episode which occurred at this point between , 
 Oubacha and his unprincipled cousin Zebek-Dorchi. y 
 
 There was at the time of the Kalmuck flight from the 
 Wolga a Eussian gentleman of some rank at the court of the 
 Khan, whom, for political reasons, it was thought necessary 
 to carry along with them as a captive. For some weeks his 
 confinement had been very strict, and in one or two 
 instances cruel. But, as the increasing distance was con- 1430 
 tinually diminishing the chances of escape, and perhaps, 
 also, as the misery of the guards gradually withdrew their 
 attention from all minor interests to their own personal 
 sufferings, the vigilance of the custody grew more and more 
 relaxed ; until at length, upon a petition to the Khan, Mr. 
 Weseloff was formally restored to liberty, and it was under- 
 stood that he might use his liberty in whatever way he 
 chose, even for returning to Eussia, if that should be his 
 wish. Accordingly, he was making active preparations fon 
 his journey to St. Petersburg; "when it occurred to Zebek-\1440 
 Dorchi that, not improbably, in some of the battles which! 
 were then anticipated with Traubenberg, it might happen to 
 them to lose some prisoner of rank, in which case the 
 Eussian "Weseloff would be a pledge in their hands for 
 
40 REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 
 
 negotiating an exchange. Upon this plea, to his own severe 
 affliction, the Russian was detained until the further pleasure 
 of the Khan. The Khan's name, indeed, was used through 
 the whole affair ; but, as it seemed, with so little concurrence 
 on his part, that, when "Weseloff in a private audience 
 
 1460 humbly remonstrated upon the injustice done him, and the 
 cruelty of thus sporting with his feelings by setting him. 
 at liberty, and, as it were, tempting him into dreams of home 
 and restored happiness only for the purpose of blighting 
 them, the good-natured prince disclaimed all participation in 
 the affair, and went so far in proving his sincerity as even 
 to give him permission to effect his escape ; and, as a ready 
 means of commencing it without raising suspicion, the Khan 
 mentioned to Mr. Weseloff that he had just then received 
 a message from the Hetman of the Bashkirs, soliciting a 
 
 1460 private interview on the banks of the Torgau at a spot 
 pointed out : that interview was arranged for the coming 
 night, and Mr. Weseloff might go in the Khan's suAU, 
 which on either side was not to exceed three persons. 
 "Weseloff was a prudent man, acquainted with the world, 
 and he read treachery in the very outline of this scheme, as 
 stated by the Khan — treachery against the Khan's person. 
 He mused a little, and then communicated so much of his 
 suspicions to the Khan as might put him on his guard, but, 
 upon further consideration, he begged leave to decline the 
 
 1470 honour of accompanying the Elhan. The fact was, that three 
 Kalmucks, who had strong motives for returning to their 
 countrymen on the west bank of the "Wolga, guessing the 
 intentions of Weseloff, had offered to join him in his escape. 
 These men the Khan would probably find himself obliged 
 to countenance in their project, so that it became a point 
 of honour with Weseloff to conceal their intentions, and 
 therefore to accomplish the evasion from the camp, (of which 
 the first steps only would be hazardous), without risking 
 the notice of the Khan. 
 
 1480 The district in which they were now encamped abounded 
 through many hundred miles with wild horses of a docile 
 and beautiful breed. Each of the four fugitives had caught 
 
REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 41 
 
 from seven to ten of these spirited creatures in the course of 
 the last few days : this raised no suspicion, for the rest of 
 the Kalmucks had been making the same sort of provision 
 against the coming toils of their remaining route to China. 
 These horses were secured by halters, and hidden about dusk 
 in the thickets which lined the margin of the river. To 
 these thickets, about ten at night, the four fugitives repaired ; 
 they took a circuitous path, which drew them as little as 1490 
 possible within danger of challenge from any of the outposts 
 or of the patrols which had been established on the quarters 
 where the Bashkirs lay, and in three-quarters of an hour 
 they reached the rendezvous. The moon had now risen, the 
 horses were unfastened, and they were in the act of mount- 
 ing, when suddenly the deep silence of the woods was dis- 
 turbed by a violent uproar, and the clashing of arms. "Wese- 
 loff fancied that he heard the voice of the ELhan shouting 
 for assistance. He remembered the communication made by 
 that prince in the morning, and requesting his companions 1500 
 to support him, he rode off in the direction of the sound. 
 A very short distance brought him to an open glade within 
 the wood, where he beheld four men contending with a party 
 of at least nine or ten. Two of the four were dismounted at 
 the very instant of Weseloff's arrival; one of these he 
 recognised almost certainly as the Khan, who ) was fighting 
 hand to hand, but at great disadvantage, with two of the 
 adverse horsemen. Seeing that no time was to be lost, 
 Weseloff fired and brought down one of the two. His 
 companions discharged their carbines at the same moment, 1510 
 and then all rushed simultaneously into the little open area. 
 The thundering sound of about thirty horses all rushing at 
 once into a narrow space, gave the impression that a whole 
 troop of cavalry was coming down upon the assailants, who 
 accordingly wheeled about and fled with one impulse. 
 Weselofi' advanced to the dismounted cavalier, who, as he 
 expected, proved to be the Khan. The man whom Wese- 
 Hoff had shot was lying dead ; and both were shocked, though 
 Weseloff at least was not surprised, on stooping down and 
 scrutinising his features, to recognise a well-known con- 1520 
 
42 REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 
 
 fidential servant of Zebek-Dorchi. Nothing was said by 
 either party ; the Khan rode off escorted by Weseloff and 
 his companions, and for some time a dead silence prevailed. 
 ] The situation of Weseloff was delicate and critical ; to leave 
 the Khan at this point was probably to -cancel their recent 
 services, for he might be again crossed on his path, and 
 again attacked by the very party from whom he had just 
 been delivered. Tet, on the other hand, to return to the 
 camp was to endanger the chances of accomplishing the 
 
 1530 escape. The Khan also was apparently revolving all this in 
 his mind, for at length he broke silence, and said, " I com- 
 prehend your situation, and under other circumstances 
 I might feel it my duty to detain your companions. But it 
 would ill become me to do so after the important service you 
 have just rendered me. Let us turn a little to the left. 
 There, where you see the watch fire, is an outpost. Attend 
 me so far. I am then safe. You may turn and pursue your 
 enterprise, for the circumstances under which you will 
 appear, as my escort, are sufiicient to shield you from all 
 
 1540 suspicion for the present. I regret having no better means 
 at my disposal for testifying my gratitude. But teU me 
 before we part — Was it accident only which led you to my 
 rescue 1 Or had you acquired any knowledge of the plot by 
 which I was decoyed into his snare 1 " Weseloff answered 
 I Very candidly that mere accident had brought him to the 
 spot at which he heard the uproar, but that having heard it, 
 and connecting it with the Kian's communication of the 
 morning, he had then designedly gone after the sound in a 
 way which he certainly should not have done at so critical a 
 
 1550 moment, unless in the jexpectation of finding the Khan 
 assaulted by assassins. A few minutes after they reached 
 the outpost at which it became safe to leave the Tartar 
 chieftain, and immediately the four fugitives commenced a 
 flight which is perhaps without a parallel in the annals of 
 travelling. Each of them led six or seven horses besides 
 the one he rode, and by shifting from one to the other, 
 (like the ancient Desultors of the Roman circus), so as never 
 to burden the same horse for more than half an hour at a 
 
REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 43 
 
 time, they contimied to advance at the rate of 200 miles in 
 the 24 hours for three days consecutively. After that time, 1560 
 conceiving 'themselves heyond pursuit, they proceeded less 
 rapidly, though still with a velocity which staggered the 
 heHef of Weseloffs^riends in after years. He was, however, 
 a man of high principle, and always adhered firmly to the 
 details of his printed report. One of the circumstances there 
 stated is, that they continued to pursue the route hy which 
 the Kalmucks had fled, never for an instant finding any 
 difficulty in tracing it by the skeletons and other memorials 
 of their calamities. In particular, he mentions vast heaps 
 of money as part of the valuable property which it had been 1570 
 found necessary to sacrifice. These heaps were found lying 
 still untouched in the deserts. From these Weseloff and 
 his companions took as much as they could conveniently 
 carry ; and this it was, with the price of their beautiful horses, 
 which they afterwards sold at one of the Russian military 
 settlements for about £15 a piece, which eventually enabled 
 them to pursue their journey in Eussia. This journey, as 
 regarded Weseloff in particular, was closed by a tragical 
 catastrophe. He was at that time young, and the only 
 child of a doating mother. Her affliction under the violent : 
 abduction of her son had been excessive, and probably had 
 undermined her constitution. Still she had supported it. 
 Weseloff, giving way to the natural impulses of his filial 
 affection, had imprudently posted through Eussia to his 
 mother's house without warning of his approach. He Aished 
 precipitately into her presence ; and she, who had stood the \ 
 shocks of sorrow, was found unequal to the shock of joy too' 
 sudden and too acute. She died upon the spot. 
 
 1580 
 
 I now revert to the final .scenes of the Kalmuck flight. 
 These it would be useless to pursue circumstantially through 1590 
 the whole two thousand miles of suffering which remained, 
 for the character of that suffering was even more monotonous 
 than on the former half of the flight, and also more severe. 
 Its main elements were excessive heat, with the accompani- 
 
44 REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 
 
 ments of famine and thirst, but aggravated at every step 
 by the murderous attacks of their cruel enemies the Bashkirs 
 and the Earghises. 
 
 These people, "more fell than anguish, hunger, or the 
 sea," stuck to the unhappy Kalmucks like a swarm of 
 
 1600 enraged hornets. And very often, whilst fkey were attacking 
 them in the rear, their advanced parties and flanks were 
 attacked with almost equal fury by the people of the 
 country which they were traversing ; and with good reason, 
 since the law of self-preservation had now obliged the 
 fugitive Tartars to plunder provisions, and to forage wher- 
 ever they passed. In this respect their condition was a 
 constant oscillation of wretchedness, for, sometimes, pressed 
 by grinding famine, they took a circuit of perhaps a 
 hundred miles, in order to strike into a land rich in the 
 
 1610 comforts of life ; but in such a land they were sure to find 
 a crowded population, of which every arm was raised in 
 unrelenting hostility, with all the advantages of local 
 knowledge, and with constant preoccupation of all the 
 defensible positions, mountain passes or bridges. Sometimes, 
 again, wearied out with this mode of suffering, they took 
 a circuit of perhaps a hundred miles, in order to strike 
 into a land with few or no inhabitants. But in such a 
 land they were sure to meet absolute starvation. Then, 
 again, whether with or without this plague of starvation, 
 
 1620 whether with or without this plague of hostility in front, 
 whatever might be the " fierce varieties " of their misery in 
 this respect, no rest ever came to their unhappy rear : jposi 
 equitem sedet atra cura ; it was a torment like the undying 
 worm of conscience. And, upon the whole, it presented 
 a spectacle altogether unprecedented in the history of man- 
 kind. Private and personal malignity is not unfrequently 
 immortal, but rare indeed is it to find the same pertinacity 
 of malice in a nation. And what embittered the interest 
 was, that the malice was reciprocal. Thus far the parties 
 
 1630 met upon equal terms ; but that equality only sharpened 
 the sense of their dire inequality as to other circumstances. 
 The Bashkirs were ready to fight " from morn to dewy eve." 
 
■HE VOLT OF THE TARTARS. 45 
 
 The Kalmucks, on the contrary, were always obliged to run ; 
 was it from their enemies as creatures whom they feared ? 
 No ; but towards their friends — towards that final haven 
 of China — as what was hourly implored by the prayers 
 of their wives and the tears of their children. But, though 
 they fled unwillingly, too often they fled in vain — being 
 unwillingly recalled. There lay the torment. Every day 
 the Bashkirs fell upon them ; every day the same unproflt- 1640 
 able battle was renewed ; as a matter of course, the Kal- 
 mucks recalled part of their advanced guard to fight them ; 
 every day the battle raged for hours, and uniformly with 
 the same result. For no sooner did the Bashkirs find 
 themselves too heavily pressed, and that the Kalmuck 
 march had been retarded by some hours, than they retired 
 into the boundless deserts, where all pursuit was hopeless. 
 But, if the Kalmucks resolved to press forward, regardless 
 of their enemies, in that case their attacks became so fierce 
 and overwhelming that the general safety seemed likely 1650 
 to be brought into question ; nor could any effectual remedy 
 be applied to the case, even for each separate day, except 
 by a most embarrassing halt, and by countermarches, that, 
 to men in their circumstances, were almost worse than 
 death. It will not be surprising that the irritation of such 
 a systematic persecution, superadded to a previous and 
 hereditary hatred, and accompanied by the stinging conscious- 
 ness of utter Impotence as regarded all effectual vengeance, 
 should gradually have inflamed the Kalmuck animosity 
 into the wildest expression of downright madness and frenzy. 1660 
 Indeed, long before the frontiers of China were approached, 
 the hostility of both sides had assumed the appearance 
 much more of a warfare amongst wild beasts than amongst 
 creatures acknowledging the restraints of reason or the 
 claims of a common nature. The spectacle became too 
 atrocious ; it was that of a host of lunatics pursued by a 
 host of fiends. 
 
 On a fine morning in early autumn of the year 1771, 
 Kien Long, the Emperor of China, was pursuing his amuse- 
 ments in a wild frontier district lying on the outside of the 167C 
 
46 REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 
 
 Great WalL For many hundred square leagues the country 
 was desolate of iahahitants, but rich in woods of ancient 
 growth, and overrun with game of every description. In a 
 central spot of this solitary region, the Emperor had built a 
 gorgeous hunting lodge, to which he resorted annually for 
 recreation and relief from the cares of government. Led 
 onwards in pursuit of game, he had rambled to a distance of 
 200 miles or more from this lodge, followed at a Httle 
 distance by a sufficient military escort, and every night 
 
 1680 pitching his tent in a different situation, until at length he 
 had arrived on the very margin of the vast central deserts of 
 Asia.* Here he was standing by accident at an opening of 
 his pavilion, enjoying the morning sunshine, when suddenly 
 to the westwards there arose a vast cloudy vapour, which by 
 degrees expanded, mounted, and seemed to be slowly diffiis- 
 ing itself over the whole face of the heavens. By and by 
 this vast sheet of mist began to thicken towards the horizon, 
 and to roll forward in billowy volumes. The Emperor's 
 suite assembled from all quarters. The silver trumpets were 
 
 1690 sounded in the rear, and from all the glades and forest 
 avenues began to trot forward towards the pavilion the 
 yagers — half cavaby, half huntsmen — who composed the 
 imperial escort. Conjecture was on the stretch to divine the 
 cause of this phenomenon, and the interest continually 
 increased, in proportion as simple curiosity gradually 
 deepened into the anxiety of uncertain danger. At first it 
 had been imagined that some vast troops of deer, or other 
 wild animals of the chase, had been disturbed in their forest 
 haunts by the Emperor's movements, or possibly by wild 
 
 1700 beasts prowHng for prey, and might be fetching a compass 
 by way of re-entering the forest grounds at some remoter 
 points secure from molestation. But this conjecture was 
 dissipated by the slow increase of the cloud, and the steadi- 
 
 * All the circumstances are learned from a long state paper upon the 
 subject of this Kalmuck migration, drawn up in the Chinese language 
 hy the Emperor himself. Parts of this paper have been translated by 
 the Jesuit missionaries. The Emperor states the whole motives of his 
 conduct and the chief incidents at great length. 
 
REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 47 
 
 ness of its motion. In the course of two hours the vast 
 phenomenon had advanced to a point which was judged to 
 be within five miles of the spectators, though all calculations 
 of distance were difficult, and often fallacious, when applied 
 to the endless expanses of the Tartar deserts. Through the 
 next hour, during which the gentle morning breeze had 
 a little freshened, the dusty vapour had developed itself 1710 
 far and wide into the appearance of huge aerial draperies, 
 hanging in mighty volumes from the sky to the earth ; and 
 at particular points, where the eddies of the breeze acted 
 upon the pendulous skirts of these aerial curtains, rents were 
 perceived, sometimes taking the form of regular arches, 
 portals, and windows, through which began dimly to gleam 
 the heads of camels " indorsed "* with human beings — and 
 at intervals the moving of men and horses in tumultuous 
 array — and then through other openings or vistas at far 
 distant points the flashing of polished arms. But some- 1720 
 times, as the wind slackened or died away, all those open- 
 ings, of whatever form, in the cloudy pall would slowly 
 close, and for a time the whole pageant was shut up from 
 view ; although the growiag din, the clamours, shrieks, and 
 groans ascending from infuriated myriads, reported, in a 
 language not to be misunderstood, what was going on behind 
 the cloudy screen. 
 
 It was in fact the Kalmuck host, now in the last 
 extremities of their exhaustion, and very fast approaching 
 to that final stage of privation and killing misery, beyond 1730i 
 which few or none could have lived, but also, happily for 
 themselves, fast approaching (in a literal sense) that final 
 stage of their long pilgrimage at which they would meet 
 hospitality on a scale of royal magnificence, and full 
 protection from their enemies. These enemies, however, as 
 yet, were still hanging on their rear as fiercely as ever, 
 though this day was destined to be the last of their hideous 
 persecution. The Khan had, in fact, sent forward couriers 
 with all the requisite statements and petitions addressed to 
 
 * Camels "indorsed:" — "And elephants indorsed with towers." — 
 Milton in Paradise Megained. 
 
48 Revolt of the tartars. 
 
 1740 the Emperor of China. These had been duly received, and 
 preparations made in consequence to welcome the Kalmucks 
 with the most paternal benevolence. But, as these couriers 
 had been despatched from the Torgau at the moment of 
 arrival thither, and before the advance of Traubenberg had 
 made it necessary for the Khan to order a hasty renewal of 
 the flight, the Emperor had not looked for their arrival on 
 his frontiers until full three months after the present time. 
 The Khan had, indeed, expressly notified his intention to pass 
 the summer heats on the banks of the Torgau, and to re- 
 
 1750 commence his retreat about the beginning of September. 
 The subsequent change of plan being unknown to Kien 
 Long, left him for some time in doubt as to the true inter- 
 pretation to be put upon this mighty apparition in the 
 desert ; but at length the savage clamours of hostile fury, 
 and the clangour of weapons, unveiled to the Emperor the 
 true nature of those unexpected calamities which had so 
 prematurely precipitated the Kalmuck measures. 
 
 Apprehending the real state of affairs, the Emperor in- 
 stantly perceived that the first act of his fatherly care for 
 
 1760 these erring children, (as he esteemed them), now returning 
 A to their ancient obedience, must be — to deliver them from 
 ' their pursuers. And this was less difficult than might have 
 been supposed. Not many miles in the rear was a body of 
 weU appointed cavalry, with a strong detachment of 
 artillery, who always attended the Emperor's motions. 
 These were hastily summoned. Meantime it occurred to the 
 train of courtiers that some danger might arise to the 
 Emperor's person from the proximity of a lawless enemy ; 
 and accordingly he was induced to retire a little to the rear. 
 
 1770 It soon appeared, however, to those who watched the 
 vapoury shroud in the desert, that its motion was not such 
 as would argue the direction of the march to be exactly 
 upon the pavilion, but rather in a diagonal line, making 
 an angle of full 45 degrees with that line in which the 
 imperial cortege had been standing, and therefore with a 
 distance continually increasing. Those who knew the 
 country judged that the Kalmucks were making for a large 
 
REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 49 
 
 fresh-water lake about seven or eight miles distant ; they 
 were right : and to that point the imperial cavalry was 
 ordered up, and it was precisely in that spot, and about 1780 
 three hours after, and at noonday on the 8th of September, 
 that the great Exodus of the Kalmuck Tartars was brought 
 to a final close, and with a scene of such memorable and 
 hellish fury as formed an appropriate winding up to an ex- 
 pedition in all its parts and details so awfully disastrous. 
 The Emperor was not personally present, or at least he saw 
 whatever he did see from too great a distance to discrim- 
 inate its individual features ; but he records in his written 
 memorial the report made to him of this scene by some of 
 his own officers. 1790 
 
 The lake of Tengis, near the dreadful desert of Kobi, lay 
 in a hollow amongst hiUs of a moderate height, ranging 
 generally from two to three thousand feet high. About 
 eleven o'clock in the forenoon, the Chinese cavalry reached 
 the summit of a road which led through a cradle-like dip in 
 the mountains right down upon the margin of the lake. 
 From the pass, elevated about two thousand feet above the 
 level of the water, they continued to descend by a very 
 winding and difficult road, for an hour and a half ; and 
 during the whole of this descent they were compelled to be 1800 
 inactive spectators of the fiendish spectacle below. The 
 Kalmucks, reduced by this time from about six hundred 
 thousand souls to two hundred and sixty thousand, and after 
 enduring for so long a time the miseries I have previously 
 described — outrageous heat, famine, and the destroying 
 scimitar of the Kirghises and the Bashkirs — had for the 
 last ten days been traversing a hideous desert, where no 
 vestiges were seen of vegetation and no drop of water 
 could be found. Camels and men were already so overladen 
 that it was a mere impossibihty that they should carry a 1810 
 tolerable sufficiency for the passage of this frightful wilder- 
 ness. On the eighth day, the wretched daily allowance, 
 which had been continually diminishing, failed entirely ; and 
 thus, for two days of insupportable fatigue, the horrors of 
 thirst had been carried to the fiercest extremity. Upon this 
 
so REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 
 
 last morning, at the sight' of the hills and the forest scenery, 
 which^ annouuoed to those who acted as guides the neigh- 
 bourhood of the lake of Tengis, all the people rushed along 
 with maddening eagerness to the anticipated solace. The 
 
 1820 day grew hotter and hotter, the people more and more ex- 
 hausted, and gradually, in the general rush forwards to the 
 lake, all discipline and command were lost — all attempts to 
 preserve a rearguard were neglected — the wild Bashkirs rode 
 in amongst the encumbered people, and slaughtered them 
 by wholesale, and almost without resistance. Screams and 
 tumultuous shouts proclaimed the progress of the massacre, 
 but none heeded — none halted ; all alike, pauper or noble, 
 continued to rush on with maniacal haste to the waters — all 
 with faces blackened by the beat preying upon the liver, and 
 
 1830 with tongue drooping from the mouth. The cruel Bashkir 
 was affected by the same misery, and manifested the same 
 (iymptoms of his misery as the wretched Kalmuck ; the 
 murderer was oftentimes in the same frantic misery as his 
 murdered victim — many, indeed (an ordinary effect of thirst,) 
 in both nations had become lunatic, and in this state, 
 whilst mere multitude and condensation of bodies alone 
 opposed any check to the destroying scimitar and the tram- 
 pliug hoof, the lake was reached ; and into that the whole 
 vast body of enemies together rushed, and together continued 
 
 1840 to rush, forgetful of all things at that moment but of one 
 almighty instinct. This absorption of the thoughts in one 
 maddening appetite lasted for a single half -hour; but in 
 the next arose the final scene of parting vengeance. Far 
 and wide the waters of the solitary lake were instantly 
 dyed red with blood and gore ; here rode a party of savage 
 Bashkirs, hewing off heads as fast as the swathes fall before 
 the mower's scythe ; there stood unarmed Kalmucks in a 
 death-grapple with their detested foes, both up to the middle 
 in water, and oftentimes both sinking together below the 
 
 1850 surface, from weakness or from struggles, and perishing in 
 each other's arms. Did the Bashkirs at any point collect 
 into a cluster for the sake of giving impetus to the assault, 
 thither were the camels driven in fiercely by those who rode 
 
REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 51 
 
 them, generally women or boys; and even these quiet 
 creatures were forced into a share in this carnival of murder, 
 by trampling down as many as they could strike prostrate 
 with the lash of their forelegs. Every moment the water 
 grew more polluted, and yet every moment fresh myriads 
 came up to the lake and rushed in, not able to resist their 
 frantic thirst, and swallowing large draughts of water visibly 1860 
 contaminated with the blood of their slaughtered compatriots. 
 Wheresoever the lake was shallow enough to allow of men 
 raising their heads above the water, there, for scores of acres, 
 were to be seen all forms of ghastly fear, of agonising struggle, 
 of spasm, of death and the fear of death — revenge, and the 
 lunacy of revenge — ^until the neutral spectators, of whom 
 there were not a few now descending the eastern side of 
 the lake, at length averted their eyes in horror. The hor- 
 ror, which seemed incapable of further addition, was, how- 
 ever, increased by an unexpected incident : the Bashkirs\li870 
 beginning to perceive here and there the approach of thei 
 Chinese cavalry, felt it prudent — wheresoever they were 
 sufficiently at leisure from the passions of the murderous -^ 
 scene — to gather into bodies. This was noticed by the 
 governor of a small Chinese fort, built upon an eminence 
 above the lake, and immediately he threw in a broadside, 
 which spread havoc amongst the Bashkir tribe. As often 
 as the Bashkirs collected into " globes " and " turms " as 
 their only means of meeting the long lines of descending 
 Chinese cavalry — so often did the Chinese governor of the 1880 
 fort pour in his exterminating broadside ; until at length 
 the lake, at its lower end, became one vast seething caldron 
 of human bloodshed and carnage. The Chinese cavalry had 
 reached the foot of the hills : the Bashkirs, attentive to 
 tJieir movements, had formed ; skirmishes had been fought, 
 and, with a quick sense that the contest was henceforwards 
 rapidly becoming hopeless, the Bashkirs and Kirghises be- 
 gan to retire. The pursuit was not as vigorous as the 
 Kalmuck hatred would have desired. But, at the same 
 time, the very gloomiest hatred could not but find in their 1890 
 own dreadful experience of the Asiatic deserts, and in the 
 
52 REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 
 
 certainty that these wretched Bashkirs had. to repeat that 
 same experience a second time for thousands of miles, as 
 the price exacted by a retributory Providence for their 
 vindictive cruelty — ^not the very gloomiest of the Kalmucks, 
 or the least reflecting, but found in all this a retaliatory 
 chastisement more complete and absolute than any which 
 their swords and lances could have obtained, or human ven- 
 geance have devised. 
 
 1900 Here ends the tale of the Kalmuck wanderings in the 
 desert, for any subsequent marches which awaited them 
 were neither long nor painful. Every possible alleviation 
 and refreshment for their exhausted bodies had been already 
 provided by Kien Long with the most princely munificence ; 
 and lands of great fertility were immediately assigned to. 
 them in ample extent along the river Ily, not very far 
 from the point at which they had first emerged from the 
 wilderness of KobL But the beneficent attention of the 
 Chinese Emperor may be best stated in his own words, as 
 
 1910 translated into French by one of the Jesuit missionaries : — 
 " La nation des Torgotes {savoir les Kalmuques) arriva k 
 Ily, toute delabr^e, n'ayant ni de quoi vivre, ni de quoi se 
 vetir. Je I'avais pr^vu; et j'avais ordonn6 de faire en 
 tout genre les provisions n^cessaires pour pouvoir les 
 secourir promptement : c'est ce qui a ^t^ ex^cut^. On a 
 fait la division des terres; et.on a assign^ k chaque famille 
 une portion suffisante pour pouvoir servir k son entretien, 
 soit en la'cultivant, soit en y nourissant des bestiaux. On 
 a donn^ h, chaque particulier des ^toflfes pour I'habiller, des 
 
 1920 grains pour se nourrir pendant I'espace d'une ann^e, des 
 ustensiles pour le manage, et d'autres choses n^cessaires : 
 et outre cela plusieurs onces d'argent, pour se pourvoir 
 de ce qu'on aurait pu oublier. On a design^ des lieux 
 particuliers, fertiles en pdturages ; et on leur a donn^ des 
 bceufs, moutons, &c., pour qu'ils pussent dans la suite 
 Iravailler par eux-mSmes k leur entretien et k leur bien-Stre." 
 These are the words of the Emperor himself, speaking 
 
REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 53 
 
 in his own person of his own parental cares ; but another 
 Chinese, treating the same subject, records the munificence 
 of this prince in terms which proclaim stUl more forcibly 1930 
 the disinterested generosity which prompted, and the delicate 
 considerateness which conducted this extensive bounty. He 
 has been speaking of the Kalmucks, and he goes on thus : 
 — "Lorsqu'ils arriv^rent sur nos fronti^res (au nombre de 
 plusieurs centaines de miUe, quoique la fatigue extreme, 
 la faim, la soif, et toutes les autres incommodit^s inseparables 
 d'une tr^s longue et tr^s p^nible route en eussent fait p6rir 
 presque autant,) ils ^talent reduits k la derni^re mis^re ; ils 
 manquaient de tout. II" [viz., I'Empereur, Kien Long] 
 " leur fit preparer des logemens conformes k leur manifere 1940 
 de vivre ; il leur fit distribuer des , ahmens et des habits j 
 il leur fit donner des boeufs, des moutons,. et des ustensiles, 
 pour les mettre en ^tat de former des troupeaux et de 
 cultiver la terre, et tout cela k ses propres frais, qui se 
 sont mont& \ des somnies immenses, sans compter I'argent 
 qu'il a donn^ k chaque chef-de-famille, pour pourvoir i la 
 subsistance de sa femme et de ses enfans." 
 
 Thus, after their memorable year of misery, the Kalmuck^ 
 were replaced in territorial possessions, and in comfort \ 
 equal perhaps, or even superior, to that which they had 1950 
 enjoyed in Russia, and with superior political advantages. 
 But, if equal or superior, their condition was no longer the 
 same ; if not in degree, their social prosperity had altered 
 in quality, for, instead of being a purely pastoral and 
 vagrant people, they were now in circumstances which 
 obliged them to become essentially dependent upon agri- 
 culture ; and thus far raised in social rank, that, by the 
 natural course of their habits and the necessities of life, 
 they were effectually reclaimed from roving and from the 
 savage customs connected with a half nomadic life. They 1960 
 gained also in political privileges, chiefly through the 
 immunity from military service which their new relations 
 enabled them to obtain. These were circumstances of ad- 
 vantage and gain. But one great disadvantage there was, 
 amply to overbalance all other possible gain : the chances 
 
54 REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 
 
 were lost or were removed to an incalculable distance for their 
 conversion to Christianity, without which, in these times, 
 there is no absolute advance possible on the path of true 
 civilisation. 
 
 1970 One word remains to be said upon ^& personal interests 
 concerned in this great drama. The catastrophe in this 
 respect was remarkable and complete. Oubacha, "with all 
 his goodness and incapacity of suspecting, had, since the 
 mysterious affair on the banks of the Torgau, felt his mind 
 alienated from his cousin ; he revolted from the man that 
 would have murdered him, and he had displayed his caution 
 so visibly as to provoke a reaction in the bearing of Zebek- 
 Dorchi, and a displeasure which all his dissimulation could 
 not hide. This had produced a feud, which, by keeping 
 
 1980 them aloof, had probably saved the life of Oubacha; for the 
 friendship of Zebek-Dorchi was more fatal than his open 
 enmity. After the settlement on the Ily this feud continued 
 to advance, until it came under the notice of the Emperor, 
 on occasion of a visit which all the Tartar chieftains made 
 to his Majesty at his hunting lodge in 1772. The Emperor 
 informed himself accurately of all the particulars connected 
 with the transaction — of all the rights and claims put for- 
 ward — and of the way in which they would severally affect 
 the interests of the Kalmuck people. The consequence was, 
 
 1990 that he adopted the cause of Oubacha, and repressed the 
 pretensions of Zebek-Dorchi, who, on his part, so deeply 
 resented this discountenance to his ambitious projects, that, 
 in conjunction with other chiefs, he had the presumption 
 even to weave nets of treason against the Emperor himself. 
 Plots were laid, were detected, were baifled ; counter-plots 
 were constructed upon the same basis, and with the benefit 
 of the opportunities thus offered. 
 
 Finally, Zebek-Dorchi was invited to the imperial lodge, 
 together with all his accomplices, and under the skilful 
 
 2000 management of the Chinese nobles in the-Emjieror's estab- 
 lishment, the murderous artiiices of these Tartar chieftains 
 were made to recoil upon themselves ; and the whole of 
 them perished by assassination at a great imperial banquet. 
 
REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 55 
 
 For the Chinese morality is exactly of that kind which 
 approves in everything the lex talionis : — 
 
 "Lex nee justior uUa est (as they think) 
 Quam neois artifices arte perire sua. " 
 
 So perished Zebek-Dorchi, the author and originator of 
 the great Tartar Exodus. Oubacha, meantime, and his 
 people, were gradually recovering from the effects of their 2010 
 misery, and repairing their losses. Peace and prosperity, 
 under the gentle rule of a fatherly lord paramount, redawned 
 upon the tribes : their household lares, after so harsh a 
 translation to distant climes, found again a happy reinstate- 
 ment in what had, in fact, been their primitive abodes : they 
 found themselves settled in quiet sylvan scenes, rich in all 
 the luxuries of life, and endowed with the perfect loveliness 
 of Arcadian beauty. But from the hills of this favoured 
 land, and even from the level grounds as they approached 
 its western border, they still look out upon that fearful 2020 
 wilderness which once beheld a nation in. agony — the utter 
 extirpation of nearly half a million from amongst its num- 
 bers, and, for the remainder, a storm of misery so fierce, 
 that in the end (as happened also at Athens during the 
 Peloponnesian War, from a different form of misery) very 
 many lost their memory : all records of their past life were 
 wiped out as with a sponge — utterly erased and cancelled, 
 and many others lost their reason : some in a gentle form 
 of pensive melancholy, some in a more restless form of 
 feverish delirium and nervous agitation, and others in the 2030 
 fixed forms of tempestuous mania, raving frenzy, or moping 
 idiocy. Two great commemorative monuments arose iriv 
 after years to mark the depth and permanence of the awe | 
 — the sacred" and reverential grief with which all persons 
 looked back upon the dread calamities attached to the year 
 of the tiger — of all who had either personally shared in 
 those calamities, and had themselves drunk from that cup 
 of sorrow, or who had effectually been made witnesses to 
 their results, and associated with their relief — two great 
 monuments ; one embodied in the religious solemnity, 2040 
 
56 REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 
 
 enjoined by the Dalai-Lama, called in the Tartar language 
 a Romanang — that is, a national commemoration, with 
 music the most rich and solemn, of all the souls who 
 departed to the rest of Paradise from the affliction of the 
 desert : this took place about six years after the arrival 
 in China. Secondly, another more durable and more 
 commensurate to the scale of the calamity and to the 
 grandeur of this national Exodus, in the mighty columns of 
 granite and brass, erected by the Emperor Kien Long, near 
 2050 the banks of the Ily ; these columns stand upon the very 
 margin of the steppes, and they bear a short but emphatic 
 inscription * to the following effect : — 
 
 "By the will of God, 
 
 Here, upon the brink of these deserts. 
 
 Which from this point begin and stretch away 
 
 Pathless, treeless, waterless, 
 
 For thousands of miles — and along the margins 
 
 of many mighty nations. 
 
 Rested from their labours and from great afflictions 
 
 2060 Under the shadow of the Chinese Wall, 
 
 And by the favour of KiBN Long, God's lieutenant 
 
 upon earth, 
 
 The Ancient Children of the Wilderness — the Torgote Tartars 
 
 — Flying before the wrath of the Grecian Czar, 
 
 Wandering sheep who had strayed away 
 
 from the Celestial Empire In the year 1616, 
 
 But are now mercifully gathered again, after Infinite sorrow, 
 
 Into the fold of their forgiving shepherd. 
 
 Hallowed be the spot for ever, 
 
 2070 and 
 
 Hallowed be the day — September 8, 1771 ! 
 Amen." 
 
 * This Inscription has been slightly altered In one or two phrases, 
 and particularly In adapting to the Christian era the Emperor's 
 expressions for the year of the original Exodus from China and the 
 retrogressive Exodus from Russia. With respect to the designation 
 adopted for the Russian Emperor, either It is built upon some eon- 
 fusion between him and the Byzantine Csesars, as though the former, 
 being of the same religion with the latter (and occupying in part the 
 same longitudes, though in different latitudes), might be considered as 
 his modern successor ; or else it refers simply to the Greek form of 
 Christianity professed by the Russian Emperor and Church. 
 
THE EE^GLISH MAIL-COACH.^ 
 
 Section I. — The Glokt or Motion. 
 
 SOME twenty or more years 1361016 I matriculated at 
 Oxford, Mr. Palmer, at that time M.P. for Bath, had 
 accomplished two things, very hard to do on our little 
 planet, the Earth, however cheap they may be held by 
 eccentric people in comets — ^he had invented mail-coaches, 
 and he had married the daughter of a duke.* He was, 
 therefore, just twice as great a man as Galileo, who did 
 certainly invent (or, which is the same thing,! discover) the 
 satellites of Jupiter, those very next things extant to mail- 
 coaches in the two capital pretensions of speed and keeping 10 
 time, but, on the other hand, who did not marry the 
 daughter of a duke. 
 
 These mail-coaches, as organised by Mr. Palmer, are en- 
 titled to a circumstantial notice from myself, having had so 
 large a share in developing the anarchies of my subsequent 
 dreams; an agency which they accomplished, 1st, through 
 velocity at that time unprecedented — for they first revealed 
 the glory of motion ; 2dly, through grand effects for the eye 
 between lamp-dight and the darkness upon solitary roads ; 
 3dly, through animal beauty and pawer so ofmn displayed 20 
 in the class of horses selected for.thm mail servibe ] ithly, 
 
 * Lady Madeline Gordon. " - 
 
 t " TTie same thing : " — Thus, in the calendar of the Church Festi- 
 vals, th^ discovery of the true cross (by Helen, the mother of 
 CoustaDPtine) is recorded (and one might think — with the express 
 consciousness of sarcasm) as the Invention of the Cross. 
 
58 THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 through, the conscious presence of a central intellect, that, in 
 the midst of vast distances * — of storms, of darkness, of 
 danger — overruled all obstacles into one steady co-operation 
 to a national result. For my own feeling, this post-office 
 service spoke as by some mighty orchestra, where a thousand 
 instruments, all disregarding each other, and so far in danger 
 of discord, yet all obedient as slaves to the supreme haton of 
 some great leader, terminate in a perfection of harmony like 
 
 30 that of heart, brain, and lungs in a healthy animal organisa- 
 tion. But, finally, that particular element in this whole 
 combination which most impressed myself, and through 
 which it is that to this hour Mr. Palmer's mail-coach system 
 tyrannises over my dreams by terror and terrific beauty, lay 
 in the awful 'political mission which at that time it fulfilled. 
 The mail-coach it was that distributed over the face of the 
 land, like the openmg of apocalyptic vials, the heart-shaking 
 news of Trafalgar, of Salamanca, of Vittoria, of Waterloo. 
 These were the harvests that, in the grandeur of their reap- 
 
 40 iug, redeemed the tears and blood in which they had been 
 sown. Neither was the meanest peasant so much below the 
 grandeur and the sorrow of the times as to confound battles 
 such as these, which were gradually moulding the destinies 
 of Christendom, with the vulgar conflicts of ordinary warfare, 
 so often no more than gladiatorial trials of national prowess. 
 The victories of England in this stupendous contest rose of 
 themselves as natural Te Deums to heaven ; and it was felt 
 by the thoughtful that such victories, at such a crisis of 
 general prostration, were not more beneficial to ourselves 
 
 50 than finally to France, our enemy, and to the nations of all 
 western or central Europe, through whose pusillanimity it 
 was that the French domination had prospered. 
 
 The mail-coach, as the national organ for pubHshing these 
 mighty events, thus dilfusively influential, became itself a 
 spiritualised and glorified object to an impassioned heart ; 
 
 * " Vast distances :" — One case was familiar to mail-coaoh travellers 
 where two mails in opposite directions, north and south, starting at 
 the same minute from points six hundred miles apart, met almost con- 
 stantly at a particular bridge which bisected the total distance. 
 
THE GLORY OF MOTION. 59 
 
 and naturally, in the Oxford of that day, all hearts were im- 
 passioned, as being all (or nearly all) in early manhood. In 
 most universities there is one single college ; in Oxford there 
 were five-and-twenty, all of which were peopled by young 
 men, the elite of their own generation ; not hoys, but men ; 60 
 none under eighteen. In some of these many colleges, the 
 custom permitted the student to keep what are called " short 
 terms " ; that is, the four terms of Michaelmas, Lent, Easter, 
 and Act, were kept by a residence, in the aggregate, of 
 ninety-one days, or thirteen weeks. Under this interrupted 
 residence, it was possible that a student might have a reason 
 for going down to his home four times in the year. This 
 made eight journeys to and fro. But, as these homes lay 
 dispersed through all the shires of the island, and most of us 
 disdained all coaches except his majesty's mail, no city out of 70 
 London could pretend to so extensive a connexion with Mr. 
 Palmer's establishment as Oxford. Three mails, at the least, 
 I remember as passing every day through Oxford, and bene- 
 fiting by my personal patronage — viz., the "Worcester, the 
 Gloucester, and the Holyhead mail. Naturally, therefore, it 
 became a point of some interest with us, whose journeys 
 revolved every six weeks on an average, to look a little into 
 the executive details of the system. With some of these Mr. 
 Palmer had no concern ; they rested upon bye-laws enacted 
 by posting-houses for their own benefit, and upon other bye- 80 
 laws, equally stern, enacted by the inside passengers for the 
 illustration of their own haughty exclusiveness. These last 
 were of a nature to rouse our scorn, from which' the tran- 
 sition was not very long to systematic mutiny. Up to this 
 time, say 1804, or 1805 (the year of Trafalgar), it had been 
 the fixed assumption of the four inside people (as an old 
 tradition of all public carriages derived from the reign of 
 Charles II.) that they, the illustrious quaternion, constituted 
 a porcelain variety of the human race, whose dignity would 
 have been comprised by exchanging one word of civiliby 90 
 with the three miserable delf-ware outsides. Even to have 
 kicked an outsider, might have been held to attaint the foot 
 concerned in that operation ; so that, perhaps, it would have 
 
6o THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 required an Act of Parliament to restore its purity of blood. 
 What words, then, could express the horror, and the sense of 
 treason, in that case, which had happened, where all three 
 outsides (the trinity of Pariahs) made a vain attempt to sit 
 down at the same breakfast-table or dinner-table with the 
 consecrated four ? I myself witnessed such an attempt ; and 
 
 100 on that occasion a benevolent old gentleman endeavoured to 
 soothe his three holy associates, by suggesting that, if 
 the outsides were indicted for this criminal attempt at 
 the next assizes, the court would regard it as a case of 
 lunacy or delirium tremens rather than of treason. Eng- 
 land owes much of her grandeur to the depth of the 
 aristocratic element in her social composition, when pulling 
 against her strong democracy. I am not the man to laugh 
 at it. But sometimes, undoubtedly, it expressed itself in 
 comic shapes. The course taken with the infatuated out- 
 
 110 siders, in the particular attempt which I have noticed, was 
 that the waiter, beckoning them away from the privileged 
 salle-d-manger, sang out, "This way, my good men, " and 
 then enticed these good men away to the kitchen. But 
 that plan had not always answered. Sometimes, though 
 rarely, cases occurred where the intruders, being stronger 
 than usual, or more vicious than usual, resolutely refused 
 to budge, and so far carried their point, as to have a separate 
 table arranged for themselves in a corner of the general 
 room. Yet, if an Indian screen could be found ample 
 
 120 enough to plant them out from the very eyes of the high 
 table, or dais, it then became possible to assume as a fiction 
 of law that the three delf fellows, after all, were not 
 present. They could be ignored by the porcelain men, 
 under the maxim that objects not appearing and not 
 existing, are governed by the same logical construction.* 
 
 Such being, at that time, the usage of mail-coaches, what 
 was to be done by us of young Oxford? We, the most 
 aristocratic of people, who were addicted to the practice of 
 looking down superciliously even upon the insides them- 
 
 130 selves as often very questionable characters — were we, by 
 * De non appare-ntibus, dbc. 
 
THE GLORY OF MOTION. 6i 
 
 voluntarily going outside, to court indignities ? If our dress 
 and bearing sheltered us generally from the suspicion of 
 being " raff " (the name at that period for "snobs"*) we 
 really were such constructively, by the place we assumed. 
 If we did not submit to the deep shadow of eclipse, we 
 entered at least the skirts of its penumbra. And the 
 analogy of theatres was valid against us, where no man 
 can complain of the annoyances incident to the pit or 
 gallery, having his instant remedy in paying the higher price 
 of the boxes. But the soundness of this analogy we 140 
 disputed. In the case of the theatre, it cannot be pretended 
 that the inferior situations have any separate attractions, 
 unless the pit may be supposed to have an advantage for 
 the purposes of the critic or the dramatic reporter. But 
 the critic or reporter is a rarity. For most people, the sole 
 benefit is in the price. Now, on the contrary, the outside 
 of the mail had its own incommunicable advantages. These 
 we could not forego. The higher price we would willingly 
 have paid, but not the price connected with the condition 
 of riding inside ; which condition we pronounced insuffer- 150 
 able. The air, the freedom of prospect, the proximity to the 
 horses, the elevation of seat — these were what we required ; 
 but, above all, the certain anticipation of purchasing 
 occasional opportunities of driving. 
 
 Such was the difficulty which pressed us ; and under the 
 coercion of this difficulty, we instituted a searching inquiry 
 into the true quality and valuation of the different apart- 
 ments about the maU. We conducted this inquiry on meta- 
 physical principles j and it was ascertained satisfactorily, 
 that the roof of the coach, which by some weak men had 160 
 been called the attics, and by some the garrets, was in reality 
 the drawing-room ; in which drawing-room the box was the 
 chief ottoman or sofa ; whilst it appeared that the inside, 
 
 * "Snobs," and its antithesis, "nobs,"' arose among the internal 
 factions of shoemakers perhaps ten years later. Possibly enough, the 
 terms may have existed much earlier ; but they were then first made 
 known, picturesquely and effectively, by a trial at some assizes which 
 happened to fix the public attention. 
 
62 THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 which had heen traditionally regarded as the only room 
 tenantable by gentlemen, was, in fact, the coal-cellar in 
 disguise. 
 
 Great wits jump. The very same idea had not long 
 before struck the celestial intellect of China. Amongst the 
 presents carried out by our first embassy to that country was 
 
 170 a state-coach. It had been specially selected as a personal 
 gift by George III. ; but the exact mode of using it was an 
 intense mystery to Pekin. The ambassador, indeed, (Lord 
 Macartney,) had made some imperfect explanations upon this 
 point ; but, as His Excellency communicated these in a 
 diplomatic whisper, at the very moment of his departure, the 
 celestial intellect was very feebly illuminated, and it became 
 necessary to call a cabinet council on the grand state 
 question, " Where was the Emperor to sit ? " The hammer- 
 cloth happened to be unusually gorgeous ; and, partly on 
 
 180 that consideration, but partly also because the box offered 
 the most elevated seat, was nearest to the moon, and 
 undeniably went foremost, it was resolved by acclamation 
 that the box was the imperial throne, and for the scoundrel 
 who drove, he might sit where he could find a perch. 
 The horses, therefore, being harnessed, solemnly his imperial 
 majesty ascended his new English throne under a flourish of 
 trumpets, having the first lord of the treasury on his right 
 hand, and the chief jester on his left. Pekin gloried in the 
 spectacle ; and in the whole flowery people, constructively 
 
 190 present by representation, there was but one discontented 
 person, and that was the coachman. This mutinous indi- 
 vidual audaciously shouted, "Where am / to sit?" But 
 the privy council, incensed by his disloyalty, unanimously 
 opened the door, and kicked him into the inside. He had 
 all the inside places to himself ; but such is the rapacity of 
 ambition, that he was still dissatisfied. " I say," he cried 
 out in an extempore petition, addressed to the Emperor 
 through the window — "I say, how am I to catch hold of 
 the reins ? " — " Anyhow," was the imperial answer ; " don't 
 
 200 trouble me, man, in my glory. How catch the reins ? 
 A^Tiy, through the windows, through the keyholes — any- 
 
THE GLORY OF MOTION. 63 
 
 how." Finally this contumacious coachman lengthened the 
 check-strings into a sort of jury-reins, communicating with 
 the horses ; with these he drove as steadily as Pekin had 
 any right to expect. The Emperor returned after the 
 briefest of circuits ; he descended in great pomp from his 
 throne, with the severest resolution never to remount it. 
 A public thanksgiving was ordered for his majesty's happy 
 escape from the disease of broken neck ; and the state-coach 
 was dedicated thenceforward as a votive oifering to the god 210 
 Fo Fo — whom the learned more accurately called Fi Fi. 
 
 A revolution of this same Chinese character did young 
 Oxford of that era effect in the constitution of mail-coach 
 society. It was a perfect French Eevolution ; and we had 
 good reason to say, pa ira. In fact, it soon became too 
 popular. The " public " — a well-known character, particu-^ 
 larly disagreeable, though slightly respectable, and notorious 
 for affecting the chief seats in synagogues — had at fit'st 
 loudly opposed this revolution ; but, when the opposition 
 showed itself to be ineffectual, our disagreeable friend went 220 
 into it with headlong zeal. At first it was a sort of race 
 between ns ; and, as the public is usually from thirty to 
 fifty years old, naturally we of young Oxford, that averaged 
 about twenty, had the advantage. Then the public took to 
 bribing, giving fees to horse-keepers, &c., who hired out 
 their persons as warming-pans on the box-seat. That, you 
 know, was shocking to all moral sensibilities. Come to 
 bribery, said we, and there is an end to all morality, 
 Aristotle's, Zeno's, Cicero's, or anybody's. And, besides, of 
 what use was it ? For we bribed also. And, as our bribes, 230 
 to those of the public, were as five shillings to sixpence, 
 here again young Oxford had the advantage. But the 
 contest was ruinous to the principles of the stables connected 
 with the mails. This whole corporation was constantly 
 bribed, rebribed, and often sur-rebribed ; a mail-coach yard 
 was like the hustings in a contested election ; and a horse- 
 keeper, ostler, or helper, was held by the philosophical at 
 that time to be the moat corrupt character in the nation. 
 
 There was an impression upon the public mind, natural 
 
64 THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 240 enough, from the continually augmenting velocity of the 
 mail, but quite erroneous, that an outside seat on this class 
 of carriages was a post of danger. On the contrary, I main- 
 tained that, if a man had become nervous from some gipsy 
 prediction in his childhood, allocating to a particular moon 
 now approaching some unknown danger, and he should 
 inquire earnestly, "Whither can I fly for shelter? Is a 
 prison the safest retreat ? or a lunatic hospital ? or the 
 British Museum?" I should have replied, "Oh no; I'll 
 tell you what to do. Take lodgings for the next forty days 
 
 250 on the box of his majesty's mail. Nobody can touch you 
 there. If it is by bills at ninety days after date that you 
 are made unhappy — if noters and protesters are the sort of 
 wretches whose astrological shadows darken the house of life 
 — then note you what I vehemently protest : viz. that, no 
 matter though the sheriff and under-sheriff in every county 
 should be running after you with his ^o«se, touch a hair of 
 your head he cannot whilst you keep house and have your 
 legal domicile on the box of the mail. It is felony to stop 
 the mail ; even the sheriff cannot do that. And an extra 
 
 260 touch of the whip to the leaders (no great matter if it grazes 
 the sheriff) at any time guarantees your safety." In fact, a 
 bedroom in a quiet house seems a safe enough retreat, yet 
 it is liable to its own notorious nuisances — to robbers by 
 night, to rats, to lire. But the mail laughs at these terrors. 
 To robbers, the answer is packed up and ready for delivery 
 in the barrel of the guard's blunderbuss. Eats again ! there 
 are none about mail-coaches, any more than snakes in Von 
 Troil's Iceland;* except, indeed, now and then a parlia- 
 mentary rat, who always hides his shame in what I have 
 
 270 shown to be the " coal cellar." And, as to fire, I never knew 
 but one in a mail-coach, which was in the Exeter mail, and 
 caused by an obstinate sailor bound to Devonport. Jack, 
 making light of the law and the lawgiver that had set their 
 
 * " V<m TroiVs Iceland ."—The allusion is to a well-known chapter 
 in Von Troil's work, entitled, "Concerning the Snakes of Iceland." 
 The entire chapter consists of these six words — " There are no snakes 
 in Iceland." 
 
THE GLORY OF MOTION. 65 
 
 faces against his oifence, insisted on taking up a forbidden 
 seat * in the rear of the roof, from which he could exchange 
 his own yarns with those of the guard. K"o greater oifence 
 was then known to mail-coaches ; it was treason, it was Icesa 
 majestas, it was by tendency arson ; and the ashes of Jack's 
 pipe, falling amongst the straw of the hinder boot, containing 
 the mail-bags, raised a flame which (aided by the wind of 280 
 our motion) threatened a revolution in the republic of letters. 
 Yet even this left the sanctity of the box unviolated. In 
 dignified repose, the coachman and myself sat on, resting 
 with benign composure upon our knowledge that the fire 
 would have to burn its way through four inside passengers 
 before it could reach ourselves. I remarked to the coach- 
 man, with a quotation from Yirgil's .^mid really too 
 hackneyed — 
 
 ' ' Jam proximus ardet 
 Uoalegon." 290 
 
 But, recollecting that the Virgilian part of the coachman's 
 education might have been neglected, I interpreted so far as 
 to say, that perhaps at that moment the flames were catching 
 hold of our worthy brother and inside passenger, Ucalegon. 
 
 * " Forbidden seat: " — The very sternest code of rules was enforced 
 upon the mails by the Post-office. Throughout England, only three 
 outsides were allowed, of whom one was to sit on the box, and the 
 other two immediately behind the box ; none, under any pretext, to 
 come near the guard ; an indispensable caution ; since else, under the 
 guise of passenger, a robber might by any one of a thousand advan- 
 tages — which sometimes are created, but always are favoured, by the 
 animation of frank social intercourse — have disarmed the guard. 
 Beyond the Scottish border, the regulation was so far relaxed as to 
 allow oifowr outsides, but not relaxed at all as to the mode of placing 
 them. One, as before, was seated on the box, and the other three on 
 the front of the roof, with a determinate and ample separation from 
 the little insulated chair of the guard. This relaxation was conceded 
 by way of compensating to Scotland her disadvantages in point of 
 population. England, by the superior density of her population, 
 might always count upon a large fund of profits in the fractional trips 
 of chance passengers riding for short distances of two or three stages. In 
 Scotland, this chance counted for much less. And therefore, to make 
 good the deficiency, Scotland was allowed a compensatory profit upon 
 one extra passenger. 
 
 E 
 
66 THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 The coachmau made no answer, which is my own way 
 when a stranger addresses me either in Syriac or in Coptic, 
 hut hy his faint sceptical smile he seemed to insinuate that 
 he knew better ; for that Ucalegon, as it happened, was not 
 in the way-bill, and therefore could not have been booked. 
 
 300 No dignity is perfect which does not at some point ally 
 itself with the mysterious. The connexion of the mail with 
 the state, and the executivegovernment — a connexion obvious, 
 but yet not strictly defined — gave to the whole mail estab- 
 lishment an official grandeur which did us service on the 
 roads, and invested us with seasonable terrors. Not the less 
 impressive were those terrors because their legal limits were 
 imperfectly ascertained. Look at those turnpike gates ; with 
 what deferential hurry, with what an obedient start, they 
 fly open at our approach I Look at that long line of carts 
 
 310 and carters ahead, audaciously usurping the very crest of the 
 road. Ah I traitors, they do not hear us as yet ; but, as 
 soon as the dreadful blast of our horn reaches them with 
 proclamation of our approach, see with what frenzy of trepida- 
 tion they fiy to their horses' heads, and deprecate our wrath 
 by the precipitation of their crane-neck quarterings. Treason 
 they feel to be their crime ; each individual carter feels him- 
 self under the ban of confiscation and attainder ; his blood 
 is attainted through six generations ; and nothing is wanting 
 but the headsman and his axe, the block and the sawdust, 
 
 320 to close up the vista of his horrors. What ! shall it be 
 within benefit of clergy to delay the king's message on the 
 high road ? — to interrupt the great respirations, ebb and 
 flood,- systole and diastole, of the national intercourse ? — to 
 endanger the safety of tidings running day and night between 
 aU nations and languages 1 Or can it be fancied, amongst 
 the weakest of men, that the bodies of the criminals will be 
 given up to their widows for Christian burial ? Now, the 
 doubts which were raised as to our powers did more to wrap 
 them in terror, hy wrapping them in uncertainty, than could 
 
 330 have been efiected by the sharpest definitions of the law 
 from the Quarter Sessions. "We, on our parts, (we, the col- 
 lective mail, I mean,) did our utmost to exalt the idea of 
 
THE GLORY OF MOTION. 67 
 
 our privileges by the insolence with which we wielded them. 
 Whether this insolence rested upon law that gave it a sanc- 
 tion, or upon conscious power that haughtily dispensed with 
 that sanction, equally it spoke from a potential station ; and 
 the agent, in each particular insolence of the moment, was 
 viewed reverentially, as one having authority. 
 
 Sometimes after breakfast his majesty's mail would 
 become frisky ; and in its difficult wheelings amougst the 340 
 intricacies of early markets, it would upset an apple-cart, 
 a cart loaded with eggs, &c. Huge was the affliction and 
 dismay, awful was the smash. I, as far as possible, 
 endeavoured in such a case to represent the conscience and 
 moral sensibilities of the maii ; and, when wildernesses of 
 eggs were lying poached under our horses' hoofs, then 
 would I stretch forth my hands in sorrow, saying (in words 
 too celebrated at that time, from the false echoes of 
 . Marengo *), " Ah ! wherefore have we not time to weep over 
 you ? " which was evidently impossible, since, in fact, we 35a 
 had not time to laugh over them. Tied to post-office 
 allowance, in some cases of fifty minutes for eleven miles, 
 could the royal mail pretend to undertake the offices of ' 
 sympathy and condolence ? Could it be expected to 
 provide tears for the accidents of the road % If even it 
 seemed to trample on humanity, it did so, I felt, in discharge 
 of its own more peremptory duties. 
 
 Upholding the morality of the mail, a fortiori, I upheld 
 its rights ; as a matter of duty, I stretched to the uttermost 
 its privilege of imperial precedency, and astonished weak 360 
 minds by the feudal powers which I hinted to be lurking 
 constructively in the charters of this proud establishment. 
 Once I remember being on the box of the Holyhead mail, 
 between Shrewsbury and Oswestry, when a tawdry thing 
 from Birmingham, some " TaUyho " or " Highflyer," all 
 
 * "False echoes : " — Yes, false ! for the words ascribed to Napoleon, 
 as breathed to the memory of Desaix, never were uttered at all. They 
 stand in the same category of theatrical fictions as the cry of the 
 foundering line-of-battle ship Vengeur, as the vaunt of General Cani- 
 bronne at Waterloo, " Za Garde meurt, mais ne se rend pas," or as 
 the repartees of Talleyrand. 
 
68 THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 ilauuting with green and gold, came np alongside of us. 
 What a contrast to our royal simplicity of form and colour 
 in this plebeian wretch ! The single ornament on our dark 
 ground of chocolate colour was the mighty shield of the im- 
 
 370 perial arms, but emblazoned in proportions as modest as a 
 signet-ring I bears to a seal of office. Even this was displayed 
 only on a single panel, whispering, rather than proclaimiDg, 
 our relations to the mighty state ; whilst the beast from 
 Birmingham, our green-and,-gold friend from false, fleeting, 
 perjured Brummagem, had as much writing and painting on 
 its sprawling flanks as would have puzzled a decipherer from 
 the tombs of Luxor. For some time this Birmingham 
 machine ran along by our side — a piece of familiarity that 
 already of itself seemed to me sufficiently jacobini(|p[. But 
 
 380 all at once a movement of the horses announced a *esperate 
 intention of leaving us behind. " Do you see that ? f' I said 
 to the coachman. — " I see," was his short answer. He was 
 wide awake, yet he waited longer than seemed prudent ; 
 for the horses of our audacious opponent had a disagreeable 
 air of freshness and power. But his motive was loyal ; his 
 wish was, that the Birmingham conceit should be full-blown 
 before he froze it. When that seemed right, he unloosed, 
 or, to speak by a stronger word, he sprang, his known 
 resources : he slipped our royal horses like cheetahs, or 
 
 390 hunting-leopards, after the affrighted game. How they 
 could retain such a reserve of fiery power after the work 
 they had accomplished, seemed hard to explain. But on our 
 side, besides the physical superiority, was a tower of moral 
 strength, namely the king's name, " which they upon the 
 adverse faction wanted." Passing them without an effort, 
 as it seemed, we threw them into the rear with so lengthen- 
 ing an interval between us, as proved in itself the bitterest 
 mockery of their presumption ; whilst our guard blew back 
 a shattering blast of triumph, that was really too painfully 
 
 400 full of derision. 
 
 I mention this little incident for its connexion with what 
 followed. , A Welsh rustic, sitting behind me, asked if I 
 had not felt my heart burn within me during the progress 
 
THE GL OR Y OF MO TION. 69 
 
 of the race ? I said, with philosophic calmness, No ; because 
 we were not racing with a mail, so that no glory could be 
 gained. In fact, it was sufficiently mortifying that such a 
 Birmingham thing should dare to challenge us. The 
 Welshman replied, that he didn't see that ; for that a cat 
 might look at a king, and a Brummagem coach might law- 
 fully race the Holyhead mail. " Race us, if you like," I 410 
 replied, " though even that has an air of sedition, but not 
 heat us. This would have been treason ; and for its ,own 
 sake I am glad that the ' Tallyho ' was disappointed." So 
 dissatisfied did the "Welshman seem with this opinion, that 
 at last I was obliged to tell him a very fine story from one 
 of our elder dramatists — viz., that once, in some far oriental 
 kingdom; when the sultan of all the land, with his princes, 
 ladies, and chief omrahs, were flying their falcons, a hawk 
 suddenly flew at a majestic eagle ; and, in defiance of the 
 eagle's natural advantages, in contempt also of the eagle's 420 
 traditional royalty, and before the whole assembled field of 
 astonished spectators from Agra and Lahore, killed the eagle 
 on the spot. Amazement seized the sultan at the unequal 
 contest, and burning admiration for its unparalleled result. 
 He commanded that the hawk should be brought before 
 him ; he caressed the bird with enthusiasm ; and he ordered 
 that, for the commemoration of his matchless courage, a 
 diadem of gold and rubies should be solemnly placed on the 
 hawk's head ; but then that, immediately after this solemn 
 coronation, the bird should be led off to execution, as the 430 
 most valiant indeed of traitors, but not the less a traitor, as 
 having dared to rise rebelliously against his liege lord and 
 anointed sovereign, the eagle. " Now," said I to the Welsh- 
 man, " to you and me, as men of refined sensibilities, how 
 painful it would have been that this poor Brummagem brute, 
 the ' Tallyho,' in the impossible case of a victory over us, 
 should have been crowned with Birmingham tinsel, with 
 paste diamonds, and Koman pearls, and then led off to in- 
 stant execution." The Welshman doubted if that could be 
 warranted by law. And when I hinted at the 6th of 440 
 Edward Longshanks, chap. 18, for regiilating the precedency 
 
70 THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 of coaches, as being probably the statute relied on for the 
 capital punishment of such oifences, he replied drily that, 
 if the attempt to pass a mail really were treasonable, it was 
 a pity that the " Tallyho " appeared to have so imperfect 
 an acquaintance with law. 
 
 The modem modes of travelling cannot compare with 
 the old mail-coach system in grandeur and power. They 
 boast of more velocity, not, however, as a consciousness, 
 
 450 but as a fact of our lifeless knowledge, resting upon alien 
 evidence ; as, for instance, because somebody says that we 
 have gone fifty miles in the hour, though we are far from 
 feeling it as a personal experience, or upon the evidence of 
 a result, as that actually we find ourselves in York four hours 
 after leaving London. Apart from such an assertion, or such 
 a result, I myself am little aware of the pace. But, seated 
 on the old mail-coach, we needed no evidence out of ourselves 
 to indicate the velocity. On this system the word was, Non 
 magna loquimur, as upon railways, but vivimus. Tes, 
 
 460 " magna mvimus '' ; we do not make verbal ostentation of 
 our grandeurs, we realise our grandeurs in act, and in the 
 very experience of life. The vital experience of the glad 
 animal sensibilities made doubts impossible on the question 
 of our speed ; we heard our speed, we saw it, we felt it as 
 a thrilling ; and this speed was not the product of blind 
 insensate agencies, that had no sympathy to give, but was 
 incarnated in the fiery eyeballs of the noblest amongst brutes, 
 in his dilated nostril, spasmodic muscles, and thunder-beating 
 hoofs. The sensibility of the horse, uttering itself in the 
 
 470 maniac light of his eye, might be the last vibration of such 
 a movement ; the glory of Salamanca might be the first. 
 But the intervening links that connected them, that spread 
 the earthquake of battle into the eyeball of the horse, were 
 the heart of man and its electric thriUings — kindling in the 
 rapture of the fiery strife, and then propagating its own 
 tumults by contagious shouts and gestures to the heart of his 
 servant the horse. But now, on the new system of travelling, 
 iron tubes and boilers have disconnected man's heart from 
 the ministers of his locomotion. Nile nor Trafalgar has 
 
THE GLORY OF MOTION. 71 
 
 power to raise an extra bubble in a steam-kettle. The 480 
 galvanic cycle is broken up for ever ; man's imperial nature 
 no longer sends itself forward through the electric sensibility 
 of the horse ; the inter-agencies are gone in the mode of 
 communication between the horse and his master, out of 
 which grew so many aspects of sublimity under accidents of 
 mists that hid, or sudden blazes that revealed, of mobs that 
 agitated, or midnight solitudes that awed. Tidings, fitted 
 to convulse all nations, must henceforwards travel by culinary 
 process; and the trumpet that once announced from afar 
 the laurelled mail, heart-shaking, when heard screaming on 490 
 the wind, and proclaiming itself through the darkness to 
 every village or solitary house on its route, has now given 
 way for ever to the pot-wallopings of the boiler. Thus 
 have perished multiform openings for public expressions of 
 interest, scenical yet natural, in great national tidings ; for 
 revelations of faces and groups that could not offer them- 
 selves amongst the fluctuating mobs of a railway station. 
 The gatherings of gazers about a laurelled mail had one 
 centre, and acknowledged one sole interest. But the crowds 
 attending at a railway station have as little unity as running 500 
 water, and own as many centres as there are separate 
 carriages in the train. 
 
 How else, for example, than as a constant watcher for the 
 dawn, and for the London mail that in summer months 
 entered about daybreak amongst the lawny thickets of 
 Marlborough forest, couldst thou, sweet Fanny of the Bath 
 Road, have become the glorified inmate of my dreams? 
 Yet Fanny, as the loveliest young woman for face and 
 person that perhaps in my whole life I have beheld, merited 
 the station which even now, from a distance of forty years, 510^ 
 she holds in my dreams ; yes, though by links of natural 
 association she brings along with her a troop of dreadful 
 creatures, fabulous and not fabulous, that are more abomin- 
 able to the heart, than Fanny and the dawn are delightful. 
 
 Miss Fanny of the Bath Road, strictly speaking, lived at 
 a mile's distance from that road ; but came so continually to 
 meet the mail that I on my frequent transits rarely missed 
 
72 THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 her, and naturally connected her image with the great 
 thoroughfare where only I had ever seen her. Why she 
 
 520 came so punctually I do not exactly know ; hut I believe 
 ■with some burden of commissions, to be executed in Bath, 
 which had gathered to her own residence as a central 
 rendezvous for converging them. The mail-coachman who 
 drove the Bath mail and wore the royal livery * happened to 
 be Fannys grandfather. A good man he was, that loved 
 his beautiful granddaughter, and, loving her wisely, was 
 vigilant over her deportment in any case where young 
 Oxford might happen to be concerned. Did my vanity 
 then suggest that I myself, individually, could fall within 
 
 530 the line of his terrors \ Certainly not, as regarded any 
 physical pretensions that I could plead ; for Fanny (as a 
 chance passenger from her own neighbourhood once told me) 
 counted in her train a hundred and ninety-nine professed 
 admirers, if not open aspirants to her favour ; and probably 
 not one of the whole brigade but excelled myself in personal 
 advantages. Ulysses even, with the unfair advantage of his 
 accursed bow, could hardly have undertaken that amount of 
 suitors. So the danger might have seemed slight — only 
 that woman is universally aristocratic ; it is amongst her 
 
 540 nobilities of heart that she u so. Now, the aristocratic 
 distinctions' in my favour might easily with Miss Fanny 
 have compensated my physical deficiencies. Did I then 
 make love to Fanny ? Why, yes ; about as much love as 
 one could make whilst the mail was changing horses — a 
 process which, ten years later, did not occupy above eighty 
 seconds ; but tlimi — viz., about Waterloo — it occupied five 
 times eighty. Now, four hundred seconds offer a field quite 
 
 * " Wiyre. the royal livery : ' — The general impression was, that the 
 royal livei-y belonged of right to the mail-ooachmen as their pro- 
 fessional dress. But that was an error. To the guard it did belong, 
 I believe, and was obviously essential as an official warrant, and as a 
 means of instant identification for his person, in the discharge of his 
 important public duties. But the coachman, and espeoiafly if his 
 place in the series did not connect him immediately with London 
 and the General Post-office, obtained the scarlet coat only as an 
 lionorary distinction after long (or, if not long, trying and special) 
 service. 
 
THE GLORY OF MOTION. 73 
 
 ample enough for whispering into a young woman's ear a 
 great deal of truth, and (by way of parenthesis) some trifle 
 of falsehood. Grandpapa did right, therefore, to watch me. 550 
 And yet, as happens too often to the grandpapas of earth, in 
 a contest with the admirers of granddaughters, how vainly 
 would he have watchied me had I meditated any evil whispers 
 to Fanny ! She, it is my belief, would have protected 
 herself against any man's evil suggestions. But he, as the 
 result showed, could not have intercepted the opportunities 
 for such suggestions. Yet, why not ? "Was he not active ? 
 Was he not blooming ? Blooming he was as Fanny herself. 
 
 "Say, all our praises why should lords " 
 
 Stop, that's not the line. 560 
 
 " Say, all our roses why should girls engross ? " 
 
 The coachman showed rosy blossoms on his face deeper even 
 than his granddaughter's — Im being drawn from the ale-cask, 
 Fanny's from the fountains of the dawn. But, in spite of 
 his blooming face, some infirmities he had ; and one particu- 
 larly in which he too much resembled a crocodile. This lay 
 in a monstrous inaptitude for turning round. The crocodile, 
 I presume, owes that inaptitude to the absurd length of his 
 back ; but in our grandpapa it arose rather from the absurd 
 hreadth, of his back, combined, possibly, with some growing 570 
 stiffness in his legs. K"ow, upon this crocodile infirmity of 
 his I planted a human advantage for tendering my homage 
 to Miss Fanny. In defiance of all his honourable vigilance, 
 no sooner had he presented to us his mighty Jovian back 
 (what a field for displaying to mankind his royal scarlet !), 
 whilst inspecting professionally the buckles, the straps, and 
 the silvery turrets* of his harness, than I raised Miss Fanny's 
 
 * ' ' Turrets : " — As one who loves and venerates Chaucer for his 
 unrivalled merits of tenderness, of picturesque characterisation, and 
 of narrative skill, I notictd with great pleasure that the word torrcttes 
 is used hy him to designate the little devices through which the reins 
 are made to pass. This same word, in the same exact sense, I heard 
 uniformly used hy many scores of illustrious mail-coachmen to whose 
 confidential friendship I had the honour of being admitted in my 
 younger days. 
 
74 THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 hand to my lips, and, by the mixed tenderness and respect- 
 fulness of my manner, caused her easily to understand how 
 
 580 happy it would make me to rank upon her list as No. 10 or 
 12, in which case a few casualties amongst her lovers (and, 
 observe, they hanged HberaUy in those days) might have 
 promoted me speedily to the top of the tree ; as, on the 
 other hand, with how much loyalty of submission I acquiesced 
 by anticipation in her award, supposing that she should 
 plant me in the very rearward of her favour, as No. 199 + 1. 
 Most truly I loved this beautiful and ingenuous girl ; and 
 had it not been for the Bath mail, timing all courtships by 
 post-office allowance, heaven only knows what might have 
 
 590 come of it. People talk of being over head and ears in 
 love ; now, the mail was the cause that I sank only over 
 ears in love, which, you know, still left a trifle of brain to 
 overlook the whole conduct of the affair. 
 
 Ah, reader ! when I look back upon those days, it seems 
 to me that all things change — aU things perish. " Perish 
 the roses and the palms of kings " : perish even the crowns 
 and trophies of .Waterloo : thunder and lightning are not 
 the thunder and lightning which I remember. Eoses are 
 degenerating. The Fannies of our island — though this I 
 
 600 say with reluctance — are not visibly improving ; and the 
 Bath Eoad is notoriously superannuated. Crocodiles, you 
 will say, are stationary. Mr. Waterton * tells me that the 
 crocodile does not change ; that a cayman, in fact, or an 
 alligator, is just as good for riding upon as he was in the 
 time of the Pharaohs. Tliat may be ; but the reason is, 
 that the crocodile does not live fast—he is a slow-coach. I 
 
 ""Mr. Waterton:" — Had the reader lived through the last 
 generation, he would not need to be told that, some thirty or thirty- 
 five years back, Mr. Waterton, a distinguished country gentleman of 
 ancient family in Northumberland, publicly mounted and rode in 
 top-boots a savage old crocodile, that was restive and veiy impertinent, 
 hut all to no purpose. The crocodile jibbed and tried to kick, but 
 vainly. He was no more able to throw the squire, than Sinbad was 
 to throw the old scoundrel who used his back without paying for it, 
 until he discovered a mode (slightly immoral, perhaps, though some 
 think not) of murdering the old fraudulent jockey, and so circuitously 
 of unhorsing him. 
 
THE GLORY OF MOTION. 75 
 
 believe it is generally understood among naturalists, that the 
 crocodile is a blockhead. It is my own impression that the 
 Pharaohs were also blockheads. Now, as the Pharaohs and 
 the crocodile domineered over Egyptian society, this accounts 610 
 for a singular mistake that prevailed through innumerable 
 generations on the Nile. The crocodile made the ridiculous 
 blunder of supposing man to be meant chiefly for his own 
 eating. Man, taking a different view of the subject, natur- 
 ally met that mistake by another : he viewed the crocodile 
 as a thing sometimes to worship, but always to run away 
 from. And this continued until Mr. Waterton changed the 
 relations between the animals. The mode of escaping from 
 the reptile he showed to be, not by running away, but by 
 leaping on its back booted and spurred. The two animals 620 
 had misunderstood each other. The use of the crocodile has 
 now been cleared up — viz., to be ridden ; and the final cause 
 of man is, that he may improve the health of the crocodile 
 by riding him a-foxhunting before breakfast. And it is 
 pretty certain that any crocodile who has been regularly 
 hunted through the season, and is master of the weight he 
 carries, will take a six-barred gate now as well as ever he 
 would have done in the infancy of the pyramids. 
 
 If, therefore, the crocodile does not change, all things else 
 undeniably do : even the shadow of the pyramids grows 630 
 less. And often the restoration in vision of Fanny and the 
 Bath Eoad, makes me too pathetically sensible of that truth. 
 Out of the darkness, if I happen to call back the image of 
 Fanny, up rises suddenly from a gulf of forty years a rose 
 in June ; or, if I think for an instant of the rose in June, 
 up rises the heavenly face of Fanny. One after the other, 
 like the antiphonies in the choral service, rise Fanny and 
 the rose in June, then back again the rose in June and 
 Fanny. Then come both together, as in a chorus — roses 
 and Fannies, Fannies and roses, without end, thick as 640 
 blossoms in paradise. Then comes a venerable crocodile, 
 in a royal livery of scarlet and gold, with sixteen capes ; 
 and the crocodile is driving four-in-hand from the box of 
 the Bath mail. And suddenly we upon the mail are pulled 
 
76 THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 up by a mighty dial, sculptured with the hours, that mingle 
 with the heavens and the heavenly host. Then all at once 
 we are arrived at Marlborough forest, amongst the lovely 
 households* of the roe-deer ; the deer and their fawns retire 
 into the dewy thickets ; the thickets are rich with roses ; once 
 
 650 again the roses call up the sweet countenance of Fanny ; 
 and she, being the granddaughter of a crocodile, awakens 
 a dreadful host of semi-legendary animals — griffins, dragons, 
 basilisks, sphinxes — till at length the whole vision of fight- 
 ing images crowds into one towering armorial shield, a vast 
 emblazonry of human charities and human loveliness that 
 have perished, but quartered heraldically with unutterable 
 and demoniac natures, whilst over all rises, as a surmount- 
 ing crest, one fair female hand, with the forefinger pointing, 
 in sweet, sorrowful admonition, upwards to heaven, where 
 
 660 is sculptured the eternal writing which proclaims the frailty 
 of earth and her children. 
 
 GOING DOWN WITH VICTORY. 
 
 But the grandest chapter of our experience, within the 
 whole mail-coach service, was on those occasions when we 
 went down from London with the news of victory. A 
 period of about ten years stretched from Trafalgar to Water- 
 loo ; the second and third years of which period (1806 and 
 1 807) were comparatively sterile ; but the other nine (from 
 1805 to 1815 inclusively) furnished a long succession of 
 victories, the least of which, in such a contest of Titans, had 
 670 an inappreciable value of position — partly for its absolute 
 interference with the plans of our enemy, but still more 
 from its keeping alive through central Europe the sense of 
 a deep-seated vulnerability in France. Even to tease the 
 
 * "Households :" — Eoe-deer do not congregate in herds like the 
 fallow or the red deer, but hy separate families, parents and children ; 
 which feature of approximation to the sanctity of human hearths, 
 added to their comparatively miniature and gi'aceful proportions, 
 conciliate to them an interest of peculiar tenderness, supposing even 
 that this beautifid creature is less characteristically impressed with 
 the grandeurs of savage and forest life. 
 
THE GLORY OF MOTION. 77 
 
 coasts of our enemy, to mortify them by continual blockades, 
 to insult tbem by capturing if it were but a baubling 
 schooner under the eyes of their arrogant armies, repeated 
 from time to time a sullen proclamation of power lodged in 
 one quarter to which the hopes of Christendom turned in 
 secret. How much more loudly must this proclamation 
 have spoken in the audacity * of having bearded the elite of 680 
 their troops, and having beaten them in pitched battles ! 
 Five years of life it was worth paying down for the privilege 
 of an outside place on a mail-coach, when carrying down the 
 first tidings of any such event. And it is to be noted that, 
 from our insular situation, and the multitude of our frigates 
 disposable for the rapid transmission of intelligence, rarely 
 did any unauthorised rumour steal away a prelibation from 
 the first aroma of the regular dispatches. The government 
 news was generally the earliest news. 
 
 From eight p.m. to fifteen of twenty minutes later imagine 690 
 the mails assembled on parade in Lombard Street, where, 
 at that time,t and not in St. Martin's-le-Grand, was 
 seated the General Post-office. In what exact strength we 
 mustered I do not remember ; but, from the length of each 
 separate attelage, we filled the street, though a long one, 
 and though we were drawn up in double file. On any night 
 the spectacle was beautiful. The absolute perfection of all 
 the appointments about the carriages and the harness, their 
 
 * "Audacity .-"—Such the French accounted it ; and it has struck 
 me that Soult would not have been so popular in London, at the 
 period of her present Kajesty's coronation, or in Manchester, on 
 occasion of his visit to that town, if they had been aware of the 
 insolence with which he spoke of us in notes written at intervals from 
 the field of Waterloo. As though it had been mere felony in our 
 army to look a French one in the face, he said in more notes than one, 
 dated from two to four p.m. on the field of Waterloo, " Here are the 
 English — -we have them ; they are caught en flagrant delit. " Yet no 
 man should have known us better ; no man had drunk deeper from 
 the cup of humiliation than Soult had in 1809, when ejected by us 
 with headlong violence from Oporto, and pursued through a long line 
 of wrecks to the frontier of Spain ; subsequently at Albuera, in the 
 bloodiest of recorded battles, to say nothing of Toulouse, he should 
 have learned our pretensions. 
 
 \ " At that time : " — I speak of the era previous to Waterloo. 
 
78 THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 strength, their brilliant cleanliness, their beautiful simplicity 
 
 700 — but, more than all, the royal magnificence of the horses — 
 were what might first have fixed the attention. Every 
 carriage on every morning in the year, was taken down to an 
 official inspector for examination : wheels, axles,' linchpins, 
 pole, glasses, lamps, were all critically probed and tested. 
 Every part of every carriage had been cleaned, every horse 
 had been groomed, with as much rigour as if they belonged 
 to a private gentleman ; and that part of the spectacle 
 offered itself always. But the night before us is a night of 
 victory ; and, behold ! to the ordinary display, what a heart- 
 
 710 shaking addition ! — ^horses, men, carriages, all are dressed in 
 laurels and flowers, oak-leaves and ribbons. The guards, as 
 being oificially his Majesty's servants, and of the coachmen 
 such as are' within the privilege of the post-office, wear the 
 royal liveries of course ; and as it is summer (for all the 
 land victories were naturally won in summer), they wear, on 
 this fine evening, these liveries exposed to view, without 
 any covering of upper coats. Such a costume, and the 
 elaborate arrangement of the laurels in their hats, dilate 
 their hearts, by giving to them openly a personal connection 
 
 720 with the great news, in which already they have the general 
 interest of patriotism. That great national sentiment sur- 
 mounts and quells all sense of ordinary distinctions. Those 
 passengers who happen to be gentlemen are now hardly to 
 be distinguished as such except by dress ; for the usual 
 reserve of their manner in speaking to the attendants has on 
 this night melted away. One heart, one pride, one glory, 
 connects every man by the transcendent bond of his national 
 blood. The spectators, who are numerous beyond precedent, 
 express their sympathy with these fervent feelings by con- 
 
 730 tinual hurrahs. Every moment are shouted aloud by the 
 post-office servants, and summoned to draw up, the great 
 ancestral names of cities known to history through a 
 thousand years — Lincoln, "Winchester, Portsmouth, Glou- 
 cester, Oxford, Bristol, Manchester, York, Newcastle, Edin- 
 burgh, Glasgow, Perth, Stilling, Aberdeen — expressing the 
 grandeur of the empire by the antiquity of its towns, and 
 
THE GLORY OF MOTION. 79 
 
 the grandeur of the mail establishment hy the diffusive 
 radiation of its separate missions. Every moment you hear 
 the thunder of lids locked down upon the mail-bags. That 
 sound to each individual mail is the signal for drawing off, 740 
 which process is the finest part of the entire spectacle. 
 Then come the horses into play. Horses ! can these be 
 horses that bound off with the action and gestures of 
 leopards ? What stir ! — what sea-like ferment ! — what a 
 thundering of wheels ! — what a trampling of hoofs ! — 
 what a sounding of trumpets ! — what farewell cheers — 
 what redoubling peals of brotherly congratulation, connect- 
 ing the name of the particular mail — " Liverpool for ever ! " 
 — with the name of the particular victory — " Badajoz for 
 ever ! " or " Salamanca for ever I" The half-slumbering 750 
 consciousness that, -all night long, and all the next day — 
 perhaps for even a longer period — many of these mails, like 
 fire racing along a train of gunpowder, will be kindling at 
 every instant new successions of burning joy, has an obscure 
 effect of multiplying the victory itself, by multiplying to 
 the imagination into infinity the stages of its progressive 
 diffusion. A fiery arrow seems to be let loose, which from 
 that moment is destined to travel, without intermission, 
 westwards for three hundred miles * — northwards for six 
 
 * " Three Jiundred:" — Of necessity, this scnle of measurement, to 
 an American, if he happens to he a thoughtless man, must sound 
 ludicrous. Accordingly, I remenTber a case in which an Americaa 
 writer indulges himself in the luxury of a little fibbing, by ascribing 
 to an Englishman a pompous account of the Thames, constructed 
 entirely upon American ideas of grandeur, and concluding in some- 
 thing like these terms : — " And, sir, arriving at London, this mighty 
 father of rivers attains a breadth of at least two furlongs, liaving, in 
 its winding course, traversed the astonishing distance of one hundi-ed 
 and seventy miles." And this the candid American thinks it fair to 
 contrast with the scale of the Mississi|ipi. Now, it is hai-dly worth 
 while to answer a pure fiction gravely, else one might say that no 
 Englishman out of Bedlam ever thought of looking in an island for the 
 rivers of a continent ; nor, consequently, could have thought of looking 
 for the peculiar grandeur of the Thames in the length of its course, 
 or in the extent of soil which it drains ; yet, if he had been so absurd, 
 the American might have recollected that a river, not to be compared 
 with the Thames even as to volume of water — viz. the Tiber — has con- 
 trived to make itself heard of in this world for twenty-five centuries 
 
8o THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 760 hundred ; and the sympathy of our Lombard Street friends 
 at parting is exalted a hundredfold by a sort of visionary 
 sympathy with the yet slumbering sympathies which in so 
 vast a succession we are going to awake. 
 
 Liberated from the embarrassments of the city, and issuing 
 into the broad uncrowded avenues of the northern suburbs, 
 we soon begin to enter upon our natural pace of ten miles an 
 hour. In the broad light of the summer evening, the suu, 
 perhaps, only just at the point of setting, we are seen from 
 every storey of every house. Heads of every age crowd to 
 
 770 the windows — young and old understand the language of 
 our victorious symbols — and rolling volleys of sympathising 
 cheers run along us, behind us, and before us. The beggar, 
 rearing himself against the wall, forgets his lameness — real 
 or assumed — thinks not of his whining trade, but stands 
 erect, with bold exulting smiles, as we pass him. The 
 victory has healed him, and says, Be thou whole ! Women 
 and children, from garrets alike and cellars, through infinite 
 London, look down or look up with loving eyes upon our 
 gay ribbons and our martial laurels ; sometimes kiss their 
 
 780 hands ; sometimes hang out, as signals of affection, pocket- 
 handkerchiefs, aprons, dusters, anything that, by catching the 
 summer breezes, will express an aerial jubilation. On the 
 London side of Barnet, to which we draw near within a few 
 minutes after nine, observe that private carriage which is 
 approaching us. The weather being so warm, the glasses are 
 
 to an extent not reached as yet by any river, however corpulent, of 
 his own land. The glory of the Thames is measured by the destiny of 
 the population to which it ministers, by the commerce which it sup- 
 ports, by the grandeur of the empire in whii-h, though far from the 
 largest, it is the most influential stream. Upon some such scale, and 
 not by a transfer of Columbian standards, is the course of our English 
 mails to be valued. The American may fancy the effect of his own 
 valuations to our English ears by supposing the case of a. Siberian 
 glorifying his country in these terms :—" These wretches, sir, in 
 France and England, cannot march half a mile in any direction with- 
 out finding a house where food can be had and lodging ; whereas 
 such is the noble desolation of our magnificent country that in many 
 a direction for a thousand miles I will engage that a dog shall not 
 find shelter from a snow-storm, nor a wren find an apology for 
 breakfast." 
 
THE GLORY OF MOTION. %\ 
 
 all down ; and one may read, as on the stage of a theatre, 
 everything that goes on within. It contains three ladies — 
 one likely to be " mamma," and two of seventeen or eighteen, 
 who are probably her daughters. What lovely animation, 
 what beautiful unpremeditated pantomime, explaining to us 790 
 every syllable that passes, in these ingenuous girls ! By the 
 sudden start and raising of the hands, on first discovering 
 our laurelled equipage ! — by the sudden movement and appeal 
 to the elder lady from both of them — and by the heightened 
 colour on their animated countenances, we can almost hear 
 them saying, " See, see ! Look at their laurels ! Oh, 
 mamma ! there has been a great battle in Spain ; and it has 
 been a great victory." In a moment we are on the point of 
 passing them. "We passengers — I on the box and the two 
 on the roof behind me — raise our hats to the ladies ; the 800 
 coachman makes his professional salute with the whip ; the 
 guard even, though punctilious on the matter of his dignity 
 as an officer under the crown, touches his hat. The ladies 
 move to us, in return, with a winning graciousness of gesture ; 
 all smile on each side in a way that nobody could misunder- 
 stand, and that nothing short of a grand national sympathy 
 could so instantaneously prompt. Will these ladies say that 
 we are nothing to thmi 1 Oh no ; they will not say ilyxt. 
 They cannot deny — they do not deny — that for this night 
 they are our sisters ; gentle or simple, scholar or illiterate 810 
 servant, for twelve hours to come, we on the outside have 
 the honour to be their brothers. Those poor women, again, 
 who stop to gaze upon us with delight at the entrance of 
 Barnet, and seem, by their air of weariness, to be returning 
 from labour — do you mean to say that they are washer- 
 women and charwomen ? ' Oh, my poor friend, you are 
 quite mistaken. I assure you they stand in a far higher 
 rank ; for this one night they feel themselves by birth- 
 right to be daughters of England, and answer to no 
 humbler title. 820 
 
 Every joy, however, even rapturous joy — such is the sad 
 law of earth — may carry with it grief, or fear of grief, to 
 come. Three miles beyond Barnet, we see approaching us 
 
 F 
 
82 THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 another private carriage, nearly repeating the circumstances 
 of the former case. Here, also, the glasses are all down — 
 here, also, is an elderly lady seated ; but the two daughters 
 are missing, for the single young person sitting by the lady's 
 side seems to be an attendant — so I judge from her dress, 
 and her air of respectful reserve. The lady is in mourning ; 
 
 830 and her countenance expresses sorrow. At first she does not 
 look up ; so that I believe she is not aware of our approach, 
 until she hears the measured beating of our horses' hoofs. 
 Then she raises her eyes to settle them painfully on our 
 triumphal equipage. Our decorations explain the case to her 
 at once ; but she beholds them with apparent anxiety, or 
 even with terror. Some time before this, I, Imding it 
 difficult to hit a flying mark, when embarra^^ by the 
 coachman's person and reins intervening, had gPpa to the 
 guard a Courier evening paper, containing the gazette, for 
 
 840 the next carriage that might pass. Accordingly he tossed 
 it in, so folded that the huge capitals expressing some such 
 legend as glorious victory, might catch the eye at once. 
 To see the paper, however, at all, interpreted as it was by 
 our ensigns of triumph, explained everything ; and, if the 
 guard were right in thinking the lady to have received it 
 with a gesture of horror, it could not be doubtful that she 
 had suffered some deep personal affiiction in connexion with 
 this Spanish war. 
 
 Here, now, was the case of one who, having formerly 
 
 850 suffered, might, erroneously perhaps, be distressing herself 
 with anticipations of another similar suffering. That same 
 night, and hardly three hours later, occurred the reverse 
 case. A poor woman, who too probably would find herself, 
 in a day or two, to have suffered the heaviest of afflictions 
 by the battle, blindly allowed herself to express an exulta- 
 tion so unmeasured in the news and its details, as gave to her 
 the appearance which amongst Celtic Highlanders is called 
 fey. This was at some little town where we changed horses 
 an hour or two after midnight. Some fair or wake had 
 
 860 kept the people up out of their beds, and had occasioned a 
 partial illumination of the stalls and booths, presenting an 
 
THE GLORY OF MOTION. 83 
 
 nnusnal but very impressive effect. "We saw many lights 
 moving about as we drew near j and perhaps the most strik- 
 ing scene on the whole route was our reception at this place. 
 The flashing of torches and the beautiful radiance of blue 
 lights (technically, Bengal lights) upon the heads of our 
 horses ; the fine efiect of such a showery and ghostly illumina- 
 tion falling upon our flowers and glittering laurels ; * whilst 
 all around ourselves, that formed a centre of light, the dark- 
 ness gathered on the rear and flanks in massy blackness ; 870 
 these optical splendours, together with the prodigious 
 enthusiasm of the people, composed a picture at once scenical 
 and aflecting, theatrical and holy. As we staid for three or 
 four minutes, I alighted ; and immediately from a dismantled 
 stall in the street, where no doubt she had been presiding 
 through the earlier part of the night, advanced eagerly a 
 middle-aged woman. The sight of my newspaper it was 
 that had drawn her attention upon myself. The victory 
 which we were carrying down to the provinces on this 
 occasion, was the imperfect one of Talavera — imperfect for 880 
 its results, such was the virtual treachery of the Spanish 
 general, Cuesta, but not imperfect in its ever-memorable 
 heroism. I told her the main outline of the battle. The 
 agitation of her enthusiasm had been so conspicuous when 
 listening, and when first applying for information, that I 
 could not but ask her if she had not some relative in the 
 Peninsular army. Oh, yes ; her only son was there. In 
 what regiment ? He was a trooper in the 23rd Dragoons. 
 My heart sank within me as she made that answer. This 
 sublime regiment, which an Englishman should never mention 890 
 without raising his hat to their memory, had made the most 
 memorable and effective charge recorded in military annals. 
 They leaped their horses — over a trench where they could, 
 into it, and with the result of death or mutilation, when 
 they could not. "What proportion cleared the trench is 
 nowhere stated. Those who did, closed up and went down 
 
 * " Glittering laurels:"— I "must observe that the colour of green 
 snfiFers almost a spiritual change and exaltation under the effect of 
 Bengal lights. 
 
84 THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 upon the enemy with such divinity of fervour (I use the 
 •word divinity by design : the inspiration of God must have 
 prompted this movement to those whom even then He was 
 
 900 calling to His presence), that two results foUowed. As 
 regarded the enemy, this 23rd Dragoons, not, I believe, 
 originally three hundred and fifty strong, paralysed a French 
 column, six thousand strong, then ascended the hill, and 
 fixed the gaze of the whole French army. As regarded 
 themselves, the 23rd were supposed at first to have been 
 barely not annihilated ; but eventually, I believe, about one 
 in four survived. And this, then, was the regiment — a 
 regiment already for some hours glorified and hallowed to 
 the ear of all London, as lying stretched, by a large majority, 
 
 910 upon one bloody aceldama — in which the young trooper 
 served whose mother was now talking in a spirit of such 
 joyous enthusiasm. Did I tell her the truth \ Had I the 
 heart to break up her dreams ] No. To-morrow, said I to 
 myself — to-morrow, or the next day, will publish the worst. 
 For one night more, wherefore should she not sleep in peace ? 
 After to-morrow, the chances are too many that peace will 
 forsake her pillow. This brief respite, then, let her owe to 
 my gift and my forbearance. But, if I told her not of the 
 bloody price that had been paid, not, therefore, was I silent 
 
 920 on the contributions from her son's regiment to that day's 
 service and glory. I showed her not the funeral banners 
 under which the noble regiment was sleeping. I lifted not 
 the overshadowing laurels from the bloody trench in which 
 horse and rider lay mangled together. But I told her how 
 these dear children of England, officers and privates, had 
 leaped their horses over all obstacles as gaily as hunters to 
 the morning's chase. I told her how they rode their horses 
 into the mists of death (saying to myself, but not saying to 
 7ier), " and laid down their young lives for thee, mother 
 
 930 England ! as willingly — poured out their noble blood as 
 cheerfully — as ever, after a long day's sport, when infants, 
 they had rested their wearied heads upon their mother's 
 knees, or had sunk to sleep in her arms." Strange it is, yet 
 true, that she seemed to have no fears for her son's safety, 
 
THE VISION OF SUDDEN DEATH. 85 
 
 even after this knowledge that the 23rd Dragoons had been 
 memorably engaged ; but so much was she enraptured by the 
 knowledge that Ms regiment, and therefore that lie, had 
 rendered conspicuous service in the dreadful conflict — a 
 service which had actually made them, within the last 
 twelve hours, the foremost topic of conversation in London 940 
 — so absolutely was fear swallowed up in joy — that, in the 
 mere simplicity of her fervent nature, the poor woman threw 
 her arms round my neck, as she thought of her son, and 
 gave to me the kiss which secretly was meant for Mm.. 
 
 Section II. — The Vision of Sudden Death. 
 
 What is to be taken as the predominant opinion of man, 
 reflective and philosophic, upon sudden death % It is remark- 
 able that, in different conditions of society, sudden death has 
 been variously regarded as the consummation of an earthly 
 career most fervently to be desired, or, again, as that con- 
 summation which is with most horror to be deprecated. 950 
 CsBsar the Dictator, at his last dinner-party (ccena), on the 
 very evening before his assassination, when the minutes of 
 his earthly career were numbered, being asked what death, 
 in Ms judgment, might be pronounced the most eligible, re- 
 plied, "That which should be most sudden." On the other 
 hand, the divine Litany of our English Church, when breath- 
 ing forth supplications, as if in some representative character, 
 for the whole human race prostrate before God, places such 
 a death in the very van of horrors : " From lightning and 
 tempest ; from plague, pestilence, and famine ; from battle 960 
 find murder and from sudden death — Good Lord, deliver 
 us." Sudden death is here made to crown the climax in a 
 grand ascent of calamities ; it is ranked among the last of 
 curses ; and yet, by the noblest of Komans it was ranked as 
 the first of blessings. In that difference, most readers will 
 see little more than the essential difference between Christi- 
 anity and Paganism. But this, on consideration, I doubt. 
 The Christian Church may be right in its estimate of sudden 
 
86 THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 death ; and it is a natural feeling, though after all it may 
 970 also be an infirm one, to wish for a quiet dismissal from 
 life — as that which seems most reconcilable with meditation, 
 with penitential retrospects, and with the humilities of fare- 
 well prayer. There does not, however, occur to me any 
 direct scriptural warrant for this earnest petition of the 
 English Litany, unless under a special construction of the 
 word "sudden." It seems a petition — indulged rather and 
 conceded to human infirmity, than exacted from human 
 piety. It is not so much a doctrine built upon the 
 eternities of the Christian system, as a plausible opinion 
 980 built upon special varieties of physical temperament. Let 
 that, however, be as it may, two remarks suggest themselves 
 as prudent restraints upon a doctrine, which else may wander, 
 and has wandered, into an uncharitable superstition. The 
 first is this : that many people are likely to exaggerate the 
 horror of a sudden death, from the disposition to lay a false 
 stress upon words or acts, simply because by an accident 
 they have become final words or acts. If a man dies, for 
 instance, by some sudden death when he happens to be 
 intoxicated, such a death is falsely regarded with peculiar 
 990 horror ; as though the intoxication were suddenly exalted 
 into a blasphemy. But that is unphilosophic. The man 
 was, or he was not, hdbitvMlly a drunkard. If not, if his 
 intoxication were a solitary accident, there can be no reason 
 for allowing special emphasis to. this act, simply because 
 through misfortune it became his final act. Nor, on the 
 other hand, if it were no accident, but one of his habitual 
 transgressions, will it be the more habitual or the more a 
 transgression, because some sudden calamity, surprising him, 
 has caused this habitual transgression to be also a final one, 
 1000 Could the man have had any reason even dimly to foresee 
 his own sudden death, there would have been a new feature 
 in his act of intemperance — a feature of presumption and 
 irreverence, as in one that, having known himself drawing 
 near to the presence of God, should have suited his 
 demeanour to an expectation so awful. But this is no part 
 of the case supposed. And the only new element in the 
 
THE VISION OF SUDDEN DEATH. 87 
 
 man s act is not any element of special immorality, but 
 simply of special misfortune. 
 
 The other remark has reference to the meaning of the 
 word sudden. Very possibly Caesar and the Christian 1010 
 Church do not differ in t^ie way supposed ; that is, do not 
 differ by any difference of. doctrine as between Pagan and 
 Christian views of the moral temper appropriate to death ; 
 but perhaps they are contemplating different cases. Both 
 contemplate a violent death, a ^ladavaxog — death that is 
 ^laioi, or, in other words, death that is brought about, not 
 by internal and spontaneous change, but by active force 
 having its origin from without. In this meaning the two 
 authorities agree. Thus far they are in harmony. But the 
 difference is that the Roman by the word " sudden " means 1020 
 unlingering ; whereas the Christian Litany by " sudden 
 death " means a death without warning, consequently with- 
 out any available summons to religious preparation. The 
 poor mutineer who kneels down to gather into his heart the 
 bullets from twelve firelocks of his pitying comrades, dies by 
 a most sudden death in Csesar's sense ; one shock, one 
 mighty spasm, one (possibly not one) groan, and aU is over. 
 But, in the sense of the Litany, the mutineer's death is far 
 from sudden ; his offence originally, his imprisonment, his 
 trial, the interval between his sentence and its execution, 1030 
 having aU furnished him with separate warnings of his fate 
 — having aU summoned him to meet it with solemn pre- 
 paration. 
 
 Here at once, in this sharp verbal distinction, we 
 comprehend the faithful earnestness with which a holy 
 Christian Church pleads on behalf of her poor departing 
 children, that God would vouchsafe to them the last great 
 privilege and distinction possible on a death-bed — viz., the 
 opportunity of untroubled preparation for facing this mighty 
 trial. Sudden death, as a mere variety in the modes of dying, 1040 
 where death in some shape is inevitable, proposes a question 
 of choice which, equally in the Roman and the Christian 
 sense, will be variously answered according to each man's 
 variety of temperament. Meantime, one aspect of sudden 
 
88 THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 death there is, one modification, upon which no douht can 
 arise, that of all martyrdoms it is the most agitating — viz., 
 where it surprises a man under circumstances which offer (or 
 which seem to offer) some hurrying, flying, inappreciably 
 minute chance of evading it. Sudden as the danger which 
 
 1050 it afiironts, must be any effort by which such an evasion can 
 be accomplished. Even that, even the sickening necessity 
 for hurrying in extremity where all hurry seems destined to 
 be vain, even that anguish is liable to a hideous exaspera- 
 tion in one particular case — viz., where the appeal is made 
 not exclusively to the instinct of self-preservation, but to the 
 conscience, on behalf of some other life besides your own, 
 accidentally thrown upon your protection. To fail, to 
 collapse in a service merely your own, might seem compara- 
 tively venial ; though, in fact, it is far from venial. But to 
 
 1060 fail in a case where Providence has suddenly thrown into 
 your hands the final interests of another, — a fellow-creature 
 shuddering between the gates of life and death ; this, to a 
 man of apprehensive conscience, would mingle the misery 
 of an atrocious criminality with the misery of a bloody 
 calamity. You are called upon, by the case supposed, 
 possibly to die, but to die at the very moment when, by 
 any even partial failure or efieminate collapse of your 
 energies, you will be self- denounced as a murderer. You 
 had but the twinkling of an eye for your effort, and that 
 
 1070 effort might have been unavailing ; but to have risen to 
 the level of such an effort would have rescued you, though 
 not from dying, yet from dying as a traitor to your final 
 and farewell duty. 
 
 The situation here contemplated exposes a dreadful ulcer, 
 lurking far down in the depths of human nature. It is not 
 that men generally are summoned to face such awful trials. 
 But potentially, and in shadowy outline, such a trial is mov- 
 ing subterraneously in perhaps all men's natures. Upon the 
 secret mirror of our dreams such a trial is darkly projected, 
 
 1080 perhaps, to every one of us. That dream, so familiar to 
 childhood, of meeting a lion, and, through languishing pros- 
 tration in hope and the energies of hope, that constant sequel 
 
THE VISION OF SUDDEN DEATH. 8g 
 
 of lying down before the lion, publishes the secret frailty of 
 human nature — reveals its deep-seated falsehood to itself — 
 records its abysmal treachery. Perhaps not one of us escapes 
 that dream ; perhaps, as by some sorrowful doom of man, 
 that dream repeats for every one of us, through every gen- 
 eration, the original temptation in Eden. Every one of us, 
 in this dream, has a bait offered to the infirm places of his 
 own individual will ; once again a snare is presented for 1090 
 tempting him into captivity to a luxury of ruin ; once again, 
 as in aboriginal Paradise, the man falls by his own choice ; 
 again, by infinite iteration, the ancient earth groans to 
 Heaven, through her secret caves, over the weakness of her 
 child: "Nature, from her seat, sighing through all her 
 works," again " gives signs of wo that all is lost " ; and 
 again the counter-sigh is repeated to the sorrowing heavens 
 for the endless rebellion against God. It is not without -r- 
 probability that in the world of dreams every one of us 
 ratifies for himself the original transgression. In dreams, 1100 
 perhaps under some secret conflict of the midnight sleeper, 
 lighted up to the consciousness at the time, but darkened to 
 the memory as soon as all is finished, each several child of 
 our mysterious race completes for himself the treason of the 
 aboriginal fall. 
 
 The incident, so memorable in itself by its features of 
 horror, and so scenical by its grouping for the eye, which 
 furnished the text for this reverie upon Sudden Death, 
 occurred to myself in the dead of night, as a solitary spec- 
 tator, when seated on the box of the Manchester and Glasgow lUO 
 mail, in the second or third summer after Waterloo. I find 
 it necessary to relate the circumstances, because they are 
 such as could not have occurred unless under a singular com- 
 bination of accidents. In those days, the oblique and lateral 
 communications with many rural post-offices wercso arrangeij, 
 either through necessity or through defect of system, as to 
 make it requisite for the main north-western mail {i.e., the 
 down mail) on reaching Manchester, to halt for a number of 
 hours ; how many, I do not remember ; six or seven, I 
 
90 THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 1120 think ; but the result was that, in the ordinary course, the 
 mail recommenced its journey northwards about midnight. 
 Wearied with the long detention at a gloomy hotel, I walked 
 out about eleven o'clock at night for the sake of fresh air ; 
 meaning to fall in with the mail and resume my seat at the 
 post-office. The night, however, being yet dark, as the moon 
 had scarcely risen, and the streets being at that hour empty, 
 so as to offer no opportunities for asking the road, I lost my 
 way ; and did not reach the post-office until it was consider- 
 ably past midnight ; but, to my great relief (as it was im- 
 
 1130 portant for me to be in Westmoreland by the morning), I 
 saw in the huge saucer eyes of the mail, blazing through the 
 gloom, an evidence that my chance was not yet lost. Past 
 the time it was ; but, by some rare accident, the mail was 
 not even yet ready to start. I ascended to my seat on the 
 box, where my cloak was still lying as it had lain at the 
 Bridgewater Arms. I had left it there in imitation of a 
 nautical discoverer, who leaves a bit of bunting on the shore 
 of his discovery, by way of warning off the ground the whole 
 human race, and notifying to the Christian and the heathen 
 
 1140 worlds, with his best compliments, that he has hoisted his 
 pocket-handkerchief once and for ever upon that virgin soil : 
 thenceforward claiming the jus dominii to the top of the 
 atmosphere above it, and also the right of driving shafts to 
 the centre of the earth below it ; so that all people found 
 after this warning, either aloft in upper chambers of the 
 atmosphere, or groping in subterraneous shafts, or squatting 
 audaciously on the surface of the soil, will be treated as 
 trespassers — kicked, that is to say, or decapitated, as circum- 
 stances may suggest, by their very faithful servant, the 
 
 1150 owner of the said pocket-handkerchief. In the present case, 
 it is probable that my cloak might not have been respected, 
 and the jus gentium might have been cruelly violated in my 
 person — for, in the dark, people commit deeds of darkness, 
 gas being a great ally of morality — but it so happened that 
 on this night there was no other outside passenger ; and 
 thus the crime, which else was but too probable, missed fire 
 for want of a criminal. 
 
THE VISION OF SUDDEN DEATH. 91 
 
 Having mounted the box, I took a small quantity of 
 laudanum, having already travelled two hundred and fifty 
 miles — viz., from a point seventy miles beyond London. In 1160 
 the taking of laudanum there was nothing extraordinary. 
 But by accident it drew upon me the special attention of my 
 assessor on the box, the coachman. And in that also there 
 was nothing extraordinary. But by accident, and with great 
 delight, it drew my own attention to the fact that this coach- 
 man was a monster in point of bulk, and that he had but one 
 eye. In fact, he had been foretold by Virgil as 
 
 "Monstrum horrendum, informe, ingens, cui lumen ademptum." 
 
 He answered to the conditions in every one of the items : — 
 1. a monster he was ; 2. dreadful ; 3. shapeless ; 4. huge ; 1170 
 5. who had lost an eye. But why should fhat delight me ? 
 Had he been one of the Calendars in the Arabian Nights, 
 and had paid down his eye as the price of his criminal 
 curiosity, what right had / to exult in his misfortune ? I 
 did not exult : I delighted in no man's punishment, though 
 it were even merited. But these personal distinctions (Nos. 
 1, 2, 3, 4, 5) identified in an instant an old friend of mine, 
 whom I had known in the south for some years as the most 
 masterly of mail-coachmen. He was the man in all Europe 
 that could (if any could) have driven six-in-hand full gallop 1I8O 
 over Al Sirat — that dreadful bridge of Mahomet, with no 
 side battlements, and of extra room not enough for a razor's 
 edge — ^leading right across the bottomless gulf. Under this 
 eminent man, whom in Greek I cognominated Cyclops 
 Di'phrelates (Cyclops the Charioteer), I, and others known 
 to me, studied the diphrelatic art. Excuse, reader, a word 
 too elegant to be pedantic. As a pupil, though I paid extra 
 fees, it is to be lamented that I did not stand high in his 
 esteem. It showed his dogged honesty (though, observe, not 
 his discernment), that he could not see my merits. Let us 1190 
 excuse his absurdity iu this particular, by remembering his 
 want of an eye. Doubtless that made him blind to my 
 merits. In the art of conversation, however, he admitted 
 that I had the whip-hand of him. On this present occasion, 
 
92 THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 great joy was at our meeting. But what was Cyclops doing 
 here ? Had the medical men recommended northern air, or 
 how ? I collected, from such explanations as he volunteered, 
 that he had an interest at stake in some suit-at-law now 
 pending at Lancaster ; so that probably he had got himself 
 
 1200 transferred to this station, for the purpose of connecting with 
 his professional pursuits an instant readiness for the calls of 
 his lawsuit. 
 
 Meantime, what are we stopping for 1 Surely we have 
 now waited long enough. Oh, this procrastinating mail, 
 and this procrastinating post-office ! Can't they take a lesson 
 upon that subject from me ? Some people have called me 
 procrastinating. Yet you are witness, reader, that I was 
 here kept waiting for the post-office. "Will the post-office lay 
 its hand on its heart, in its moments of sobriety, and assert 
 
 1210 that ever it waited for me t What are they about 1 The 
 guard tells me that there is a large extra accumulation of 
 foreign mails this night, owing to irregularities caused by 
 war, by wind, by weather, in the packet service, which as 
 yet does not benefit at all by steam. For an extra hour, it 
 seems, the post-office has been engaged in threshing out the 
 pure wheaten correspondence of Glasgow, and winnowing it 
 from the chaff of all baser intermediate towns. But at last 
 all is finished. Sound your horn, guard ! Manchester, 
 good-bye ; we've lost an hour by your criminal conduct at 
 
 1220 the post-office : which, however, though I do not mean to 
 part with a serviceable ground of complaint, and one which 
 really is such for the horses, to me secretly is an advantage, 
 since it compels us to look sharply for this lost hour amongst 
 the next eight or nine, and to recover it (if we can) at the 
 rate of one mile extra per hour. Off we are at last, and at 
 eleven miles an hour; and for the moment I detect no 
 changes in the energy or in the skill of Cyclops. 
 
 From Manchester to Kendal, which virtually (though not 
 in law) is the capital of Westmoreland, there were at this 
 
 1230 time seven stages of eleven miles each. The first five of 
 these, counting from Manchester, terminate in Lancaster, 
 which is therefore fifty-five miles north of Manchester, and 
 
THE VISION OF SUDDEN DEATH. 93 
 
 the same distance exactly from Liverpool. The first three 
 stages terminate in Preston (called, by way of distinction 
 from other towns of that name, Proud Preston), at which 
 place it is that the separate roads from Liverpool and from 
 Manchester to the north become confluent.* Within these 
 first three stages lay the foundation, the progress, and termi- 
 nation of our night's adventure. During the first stage, I 
 found out that Cyclops was mortal : he was liable to the 12iO 
 shocking affection of sleep — a thing which previously I had 
 never suspected. If a man indulges in the vicious habit of 
 sleeping, all the skill in aurigation of Apollo himself, with 
 the horses of Aurora to execute his notions, avails him nothing. 
 " Oh, Cyclops ! " I exclaimed, " thou art mortal. My friend, 
 thou snorest." Through the first eleven miles, however, this 
 infirmity — which I grieve to say that he shared with the 
 whole Pagan Pantheon — betrayed itself only by brief snatches. 
 On waking up, he made an apology for himself which, instead 
 of mending matters, laid open a gloomy vista of coming 1250 
 disasters. The summer assizes, he reminded me, were now 
 going on at Lancaster : in consequence of which, for three 
 nights and three days, he had not lain down in a bed. During 
 the day he was waiting for his own summons as a witness 
 on the trial in which he was interested ; or else, lest he 
 should be missing at the critical moment, was drinking with 
 the other witnesses, under the pastoral surveillance of the 
 attorneys. During the night, or that part of it which at sea 
 would form the middle watch, he was driving. This explana- 
 tion certainly accounted for his drowsiness, but in a way 1260 
 which made it much more alarming ; since now, after several 
 days' resistance to this infirmity, at length he was steadily 
 giving way. Throughout the second stage he grew more 
 and more drowsy. In the second mile of the third stage he 
 
 * "Confluent:" — Suppose a capital Y (the Pythagorean letter): 
 Lancaster is at the foot of this letter ; Liverpool at the top of the rigM 
 branch ; Manchester at the top of the left ; proud Preston at the 
 centre, where the two branches unite. It is thirty-three miles along 
 either of the two branches ; it is twenty-two miles along the stem- 
 viz. , from Preston in the middle, to Lancaster at the root. There's a 
 lesson in geography for the reader. 
 
94 THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 surrendered himself , finally and without a struggle to his 
 perilous temptation. AU his past resistance had hut deepened 
 the weight of this final oppression. Seven atmospheres of 
 sleep rested upon him ; and, to consummate the case, our 
 worthy guard, after singing "Love amongst the Eoses " for 
 
 1270 perhaps thirty times, without invitation and without applause, 
 had in revenge moodily resigned himself to slumber — not so 
 deep, doubtless, as the coachman's, but deep enough for 
 mischief. And thus at last, about ten miles from Preston, 
 it came about that I found myself left in charge of his 
 Majesty's London and Glasgow mail, then running at the 
 least twelve miles an hour. 
 
 What made this negligence less criminal than else it must 
 have been thought, was the condition of the roads at night 
 during the assizes. At that time, all the law business of 
 
 1280 populous Liverpool, and also of populous Manchester, with 
 its vast cincture of pbpulous rural districts, was called up by 
 ancient usage to the tribunal of Lilliputian Lancaster. To 
 break up this old traditional usage required, 1. a conflict 
 with powerful established interests ; 2, a large systeni of new 
 arrangements ; and 3. a new parliamentary statute. But as 
 yet this change was merely in contemplation. As things 
 were at present, twice in the year * so vast a body of business 
 rolled northwards from the southern quarter of the county 
 that for a fortnight at least it occupied the severe exertions 
 
 1290 of two judges in its despatch. The consequence of this was 
 that every horse available for such a service, along the 
 whole line of road, was exhausted in carrying down the 
 multitudes of people who were parties to the different suits. 
 By sunset, therefore, it usually happened that, through utter 
 exhaustion amongst men and horses, the road sank into 
 profound silence. Except the exhaustion in the vast 
 adjacent county of York from a contested election, no such 
 silence succeeding to no such fiery uproar was ever witnessed 
 in England. 
 
 * " Twice, in the year : '' — There were at that time only two assizes 
 even in the most populous counties — viz., the Lent Assizes and the 
 Summer Assizes, 
 
THE VISION OF SUDDEN DEATH. 95 
 
 On this occasion the usual silence and solitude prevailed 1300 
 along the road. Not a hoof nor a wheel was to be heard. 
 And, to strengthen this false luxurious confidence in the 
 noiseless roads, it happened also that the night was one of 
 peculiar solemnity and peace. For my own part, though 
 slightly alive to the possibilities of peril, I had so far yielded 
 to the influence of the mighty calm as to sink into a pro- 
 found reverie. The month was August, in the middle of 
 which lay my own birthday — a festival to every thoughtful 
 man suggesting solemn and often sigh-born * thoughts. The 
 county was my own native county — upon whicli, in its 1310 
 southern section, more than upon any equal area known to 
 men past or present, had descended the original curse of 
 labour in its heaviest form, not mastering the bodies only of 
 men as of slaves, or criminals in mines, but working through 
 the fiery will. Upon no equal space of earth was, or ever 
 had been, the same energy of human power put forth daily. 
 At this particular season also of the assizes, that dreadful 
 hurricane of flight and pur.suit, as it might have seemed to a 
 stranger, which swept to and from Lancaster all day long, 
 hunting the county up and down, and regularly subsiding 1320 
 back into silence about sunset, could not fail (when united 
 with this permanent distinction of Lancashire as the very 
 metropolis and citadel of labour) to point the thoughts 
 pathetically upon that counter- vision of rest, of saintly repose 
 from strife and sorrow, towards which, as to their secret 
 haven, the profounder aspirations of man's heart are in 
 solitude continually travelling. Obliquely upon our left we 
 were nearing the sea ; which also must, under the present 
 circumstances, be repeating the general state of halcyon 
 repose. The sea, the atmosphere, the Hght, bore each an 1330 
 orchestral part in this universal lull. Moonlight and the 
 first timid tremblings of the dawn were by this time blend- 
 ing; and the blendings were brought into a still more 
 exquisite state of unity by a slight silvery mist, motionless 
 
 * "Sigh-bom:" — I owe the suggestion of this word to an obscure 
 remembrance of a beautiful phrase in "Giraldus Cambrensis" — viz., 
 suspiriosce cogitationes. 
 
96 THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 and dreamy, that covered the woods and fields, but with a 
 veil of equable transparency. Except the feet of our own 
 horses, which, running on a sandy margin of the road, 
 made but little disturbance, there was no sound abroad. 
 In the clouds and on the earth prevailed the same majestic 
 
 1340 peace ; and, in spite of all that the villain of a schoolmaster 
 has done for the ruin of our sublimer thoughts, which are 
 the thoughts of our infancy, we still believe in no such 
 nonsense as a limited atmosphere. Whatever we may swear 
 with our false feigning lips, in our faithful hearts we still 
 believe, and must for ever believe, in fields of air traversing 
 the total gulf between earth and the central heavens. StiU, 
 in the confidence of children that tread without fear euej^/ 
 chamber iu their father's house, and to whom no door is 
 closed, we, in that Sabbatic vision which sometimes is 
 
 1350 revealed for an hour upon nights like this, ascend with easy 
 steps from the sorrow-stricken fields of earth upwards to the 
 sandals of God. 
 
 Suddenly, from thoughts like these I was awakened to a 
 sullen sound, as of some motion on the distant road. It 
 stole upon the air for a moment ; I listened in awe ; but 
 then it died away. Once roused, however, I could not but 
 observe with alarm the quickened motion of our horses. 
 Ten years' experience had made my eye learned in the valu- 
 ing of motion ; and I saw that we were now running thirteen 
 
 1360 miles an hour. I pretend to no presence of mind. On the 
 contrary, my fear is, that I am miserably and shamefully 
 deficient iu that quality as regards action. The palsy of 
 doubt and distraction hangs like some guilty weight of dark 
 unfathomed remembrances upon my energies, when the signal 
 is flying for action. But, on the other baud, this accursed 
 gift I have, as regards thought, that in the first step towards 
 the possibility of a misfortune, I see its total evolution ; iu 
 the radix of the series I see too certainly and too instantly 
 its entire expansion; in the first syllable of the dreadful 
 
 1370 sentence, I read already the last. It was not that I feared 
 for ourselves. Us, our bulk and impetus charmed against 
 peril in any collision. And I had ridden through too many 
 
THE VISION OF SUDDEN DEATH. 97 
 
 hundreds of perils that were frightful to approach, that were 
 matter of laughter to look back upon, the first face of which 
 was horror — the parting face a jest, for any anxiety to rest 
 upon owr interests. The mail was not built, I felt assured, 
 nor bespoke, that could betray me who trusted to its protec- 
 tion. But any carriage that we could meet would be frail 
 and light in comparison of ourselves. And I remarked this 
 ominous accident of our situation. "We were on the wrong 1380 
 side of the road. But then, it may be said, the other party, 
 if other there was, might also be on the wrong side ; and 
 two wrongs might make a right. That was not likely. The 
 same motive which had drawn us to the right-hand side of 
 the road — viz., the luxury of the soft beaten sand as contrasted 
 with tljie paved centre — would prove attractive to others. 
 The two adverse carriages would therefore, to a certainty, be 
 traveUing on the same side ; and from this side, as not 
 being ours in law, the crossing over to the other would, of 
 course, be looked for from ms.* Our lamps, still lighted, 1390 
 would give the impression of vigilance on our part. And 
 every creature that met us would rely upon us for quartering.! 
 All this, and if the separate links of the anticipation had 
 been a thousand times more, I saw, not discursively, or by 
 effort, or by succession, but by one flash of horrid simul- 
 taneous intuition. 
 
 Under this steady though rapid anticipation of the evil 
 which might be gathering ahead, ah ! what a sullen mystery 
 of fear, what a sigh of wo, was that which stole upon the 
 air, as again the far-off sound of a wheel was heard ! A 1400 
 whisper it was — a whisper from, perhaps, four miles off — 
 secretly announcing a ruin that, being foreseen, was not the 
 less inevitable ; that, being known, was not, therefore, healed. 
 
 * It is true that, according to the law of the case as established by 
 legal precedents, all carriages were required to give way before royal 
 equipages, and therefore before the mail as one of them. Bat this 
 only increased the danger, as being a regulation very imperfectly 
 made known, very unequally enforced, and therefore often embarrass- 
 ing the movements on both sides. 
 
 t " Quwrtering : " — This is the technical word, and, I presume, 
 derived from the French cariayer, to evade a rut or any obstacle. 
 
 G 
 
98 THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 What could be done — who was it that could do it — to check 
 the storm-flight of these maniacal horses? Could I not 
 seize the reins from the grasp of the slumbering coachman ? 
 You, reader, think that it would have been in your power to 
 do so. And I quarrel not with your estimate of yourself. 
 But, from the way in which the coachman's hand was viced 
 
 1410 between his upper and lower thigh, this was impossible. 
 Easy, was it ? See, then, that bronze equestrian statue. The 
 crueLrider has kept the bit in his horse's mouth for two cen- 
 turies. Unbridle him for a minute, if you please, and wash 
 his mouth with water. Easy, was it ? Unhorse me, then, 
 that imperial rider ; knock me those marble feet from those 
 marble stirrups of Charlemagne. 
 
 The sounds ahead strengthened, and were now too clearly 
 the sounds of wheels. Who and what could it be ? Was 
 it industry in a taxed cart ? Was it youthful gaiety in a 
 
 1420 gig ? Was it sorrow that loitered, or joy that raced ? For 
 as yet the snatches of sound were too intermitting, from 
 distance, to decipher the character of the motion. Whoever 
 were the travellers, something must be done to warn them. 
 Upon the other party rests the active responsibility, but 
 upon us — and, wo is me ! that us was reduced to my frail 
 opium-shattered self — rests the responsibility of warning. 
 Yet, how should this be accomplished ? Might I not soimd 
 the guard's horn ? Already, on the first thought, I was 
 making my way over the roof to the guard's seat. But 
 
 1430 this, from the accident which I have mentioned, of the 
 foreign mails being piled upon the roof, was a difiicult and 
 even dangerous attempt to one cramped by nearly three 
 hundred miles of outside travelHng. And, fortunately, 
 before I had lost much time in the attempt, our frantic 
 horses swept round an angle of the road, which opened upon 
 us that final stage where the collision must be accomplished, 
 and the catastrophe sealed. All was apparently finished. 
 The court was sitting ; the case was heard ; the judge had 
 finished ; and only the verdict was yet in arrear. 
 
 1440 Before us lay an avenue, straight as an arrow, six hundred 
 yards, perhaps, in length; and the umbrageous trees, which 
 
THE VISION OF SUDDEN DEATH. 99 
 
 rose in a regular line from either side, meeting high over- 
 head, gave to it the character of a cathedral aisle. These 
 trees lent a deeper solemnity to the early light ; but there 
 was stni light enough to perceive, at the further end of this 
 Gothic aisle, a frail reedy gig, in which were seated a young 
 man, and by his side a young lady. Ah, young sir ! what 
 are you about ? If it is requisite that you should whisper 
 your communications to this young lady — though reaUy I 
 see nobody, at an hour and on a road so solitary, likely to 1450 
 overhear you — is it therefore requisite that you should carry 
 your lips forward to hers ? The little carriage is creeping 
 on at one mile an hour ; and the parties within it, being 
 thus tenderly engaged, are naturally bending down their 
 heads. Between them and eternity, to all human calcula- 
 tion, there is but a minute and a-half. Oh heavens ! what 
 is it that I shall do % Speaking or acting, what help can 
 I offer ? Strange it is, and to a mere auditor of the tale 
 might seem laughable, that I should need a suggestion from 
 the niad to prompt the sole resource that remained. Yet 1460 
 so it was. Suddenly I remembered the shout of Achilles, 
 and its effect. But could I pretend to shout like the son 
 of Peleus, aided by Pallas ? No : but then I needed not 
 the shout that should alarm all Asia militant ; such a shout 
 would suiSce as might carry terror into the hearts of two 
 thoughtless young people, and one gig-horse. I shouted — 
 and the young man heard me not. A second time I 
 shouted — and now he heard me, for now he raised his 
 head. 
 
 Here, then, all had been done that, by me, could be done : 1470 
 more on my part was not possible. Mine had been the first 
 step ; the second was for the young man ; the third was for 
 God. If, said I, this stranger is a brave man, and if indeed 
 he loves the young girl at his side — or, loving her not, if he 
 feels the obhgation, pressing upon every man worthy to be 
 called a man, of doing his utmost for a woman confided to 
 his protection — he will at least make some effort to save 
 her. If that fails, he will not perish the more, or by a 
 death more cruel, for having made it ; and he will die as a 
 
loo THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 1480 brave man should, with his face to the danger, and with his 
 arm about the woman that he sought in vain to save. But, 
 if he makes no effort, — shrinking without a struggle from 
 his duty, — he himself will not the less certainly perish for 
 this baseness of poltroonery. He will die no less : and why 
 not % Wherefore should we grieve that there is one craven 
 less in the world ? No ; let him perish, without a pitying 
 thought of ours wasted upon him ; and, in that case, all our 
 grief wiU be reserved for the fate of the helpless girl who 
 now, upon the least shadow of failure in liim, must, by the 
 
 1490 fiercest of translations — must, without time for a prayer — 
 must, within seventy seconds, stand before the judgment- 
 seat of God. 
 
 But craven he was not : sudden had been the call upon 
 him, and sudden was his answer to the call. He saw, he 
 heard, he comprehended, the ruin that was coming down : 
 already its gloomy shadow darkened above him, and already 
 he was measuring his strength to deal with it. Ah ! what a 
 vulgar thing does courage seem, when we see nations buying 
 it and selling it for a shilling a-day : ah ! what a sublime 
 
 1500 thing does courage seem, when some fearful summons on the 
 great deeps of life carries a man, as if running before a 
 hurricane, up to the giddy crest of some tumultuous crisis 
 from which lie two courses, and a voice says to him audibly, 
 " One way lies hope ; take the other, and mourn for ever ! " 
 How grand a triumph, if, even then, amidst the raving of all 
 around him, and the frenzy of the danger, the man is able to 
 confront his situation — is able to retire for a moment into 
 solitude with God, and to seek his counsel from Him ! 
 For seven seconds, it might be, of his seventy, the stranger 
 
 1510 settled his countenance stedfastly upon us, as if to search and 
 value every element in the conflict before him. For five 
 seconds more of his seventy he sat immovably, like one that 
 mused on some great purpose. For five more, perhaps, he 
 sat with eyes upraised, like one that prayed in sorrow, under 
 some extremity of doubt, for light that should guide him to 
 the better choice. Then suddenly he rose ; stood upright ; 
 and, by a powerful strain upon the reins, raising his horse's 
 
THE VISION OF SUDDEN DEATH. loi 
 
 fore-feet from the ground, lie slewed him round on the pivot 
 of his hind-legs, so as to plant the little equipage in a position 
 nearly at right angles to ours. Thus far his condition was 1520 
 not improved ; except as a first step had been taken towards 
 the possibility of a second. If no more were done, nothing 
 was done ; for the little carriage still occupied the very centre 
 of our path, though in an altered direction. Yet even now 
 it may not be too late : fifteen of the seventy seconds may 
 still be unexhausted ; and one almighty bound may avail to 
 clear the ground. Hurry, then, hurry ! for the flying 
 moments — they hurry. Oh, hurry, hurry, my brave young 
 man ! for the cruel hoofs of our horses — tkey also hurry ! 
 Fast are the" flying moments, faster are the hoofs of our 1530 
 horses. But fear not for Mm, if human energy can suffice ; 
 faithful was he that drove to his terrific duty ; faithful was 
 the horse to his command. One blow, one impulse given 
 with voice and hand, by the stranger, one rush from the 
 horse, one bound as if in the act of rising to a fence, landed 
 the docile creature's fore-feet upon the crown or arching 
 centre of the road. The larger half of the little equipage 
 had then cleared our over-towering shadow : that was evident 
 even to my own agitated sight. But it mattered little that 
 one wreck should float off in safety if upon the wreck that ]540 
 perished were embarked the human freightage. The rear 
 part of the carriage — was tliat certainly beyond the line of 
 absolute ruin? What power could answer the question? 
 Glance of eye, thought of man, wing of angel, which of these 
 had speed enough to sweep between the question and the 
 answer, and divide the one from the other ? Light does not 
 tread upon the steps of light more indivisibly, than did our 
 all-conquering arrival upon the escaping efforts of the gig. 
 That must the young man have felt too plainly. His back 
 was now turned to us ; not by sight could he any longer 1550 
 communicate with the peril j but, by the dreadful rattle of 
 our harness, too truly had his ear been instructed that all was 
 finished as regarded any effort of Ms. Already in resignation 
 he had rested from his struggle ; and perhaps in his heart he 
 was whispering, "Father, which art in heaven, do Thou 
 
102 THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 finish above what I on earth have attempted." Faster than 
 ever mill-race we ran past them in our inexorahle flight. 
 Oh, raving of hurricanes that must have sounded in their 
 young ears at the moment of our transit ! Even in that 
 
 1560 moment the thunder of collision spoke aloud. Either with 
 the swingle-bar, or with the haunch of our near leader, we 
 had struck the off- wheel of the little gig, which stood rather 
 obliquely, and not quite so far advanced, as to be accurately 
 parallel with the near-wheeL The blow, from the fury of 
 our passage, resou.nded terrifically. I rose in horror, to gaze 
 upon the ruuis we might have caused. From my elevated 
 station I looked down, and looked back upon the scene, 
 which in a moment told its own tale, and wrote all its records 
 on my heart for ever. 
 
 1570 Here was the map of the passion that now had finished. 
 The horse was planted immovably, with his fore-feet upon 
 the paved crest of the central road. He of the whole party 
 might be supposed untouched by the passion of death. The 
 little cany carriage — partly, perhaps, from the violent torsion 
 of the wheels in its recent movement^ partly from the 
 thundering blow we had given to it — as if it sympathised 
 with human horror, was all alive with tremblings and shiver- 
 ings. The young man trembled not, nor shivered. He sat 
 like a rock. But Ms was the steadiness of agitation frozen 
 
 1580 into rest by horror. As yet he dared not to look round ; for 
 he knew that, if anything remained to do, by him it could no 
 longer be done. And as yet he knew not for certain if their 
 
 safety were accomplished. But the lady 
 
 But the lady ! Oh, heavens ! will that spectacle ever 
 
 depart from my dreams, as she rose and sank upon her seat, 
 sank and rose, threw up her arms wildly to heaven, clutched 
 at some visionary object in the air, fainting, praying, raving, 
 despairing ? Figure to yourself, reader, the elements of the 
 case ; suffer me to recall before your mind the circumstances 
 
 1590 of that unparalleled situation. From the silence and deep 
 peace of this saintly summer night — from the pathetic blend- 
 ing of this sweet moonlight, dawnlight, dreamlight — from 
 the manly tenderness of this flattering, whispering, mur- 
 
DREAM-FUGVE. 103 
 
 muring love— suddenly as from the woods and fields — 
 suddenly as from the chambers of the air opening in revelation 
 — suddenly as from the ground yawning at her feet, leaped 
 upon her, with the flashing of cataracts. Death the crowned 
 phantom, with all the equipage of his terrors, and the tiger 
 roar of his voice. 
 
 The moments were numbered ; the strife was finished ; 1600 
 the vision was closed. In the twinkling of an eye, our 
 flying horses had carried us to the termination of the 
 umbrageous aisle ; at right angles we wheeled into our 
 former direction ; the turn of the road carried the scene out 
 of my eyes in an instant, and swept it into my dreams for 
 ever. 
 
 Section III. — Dream-Fugtjb : 
 
 FOUNDED ON THE PEKOBDING THEME OF SUDDEN DEATH. 
 
 " Whence the sound 
 Of instruments, that made melodious chime. 
 Was heard, of harp and organ ; and who moved 
 Their stops and chords was seen ; his volant touch 
 Instinct through all proportions, low and high. 
 Fled and pursued transverse the resonant fugue." 
 
 Tar. Lost, Bk. XI. 
 
 Tumultuosissimamente. 
 
 Passion of sudden death ! that once in youth I read and 
 interpreted by the shadows of thy averted signs ! * — rapture 
 of panic taking the shape (which amongst tombs in churches 
 I have seen) of woman bursting her sepulchral bonds — of 1610 
 woman's Ionic form bending forward from the ruins of her 
 grave with arching foot, with eyes upraised, with clasped 
 adoring hands — waiting, watching, trembling, praying for 
 the trumpet's call to rise from dust for ever ! Ah, vision 
 
 * " Averted sig-ns : '' — I read the course and changes of the lady's 
 agony in the succession of her involuntary gestures ; but it must be 
 remembered that I read all this from the rear, never once catching the 
 lady's full face, and even her profile imperfectly. 
 
I04 THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 too fearful of shuddering humanity on the brink of almighty- 
 abysses ! — vision that didst start back, that didst reel away, 
 like a shrivelling scroll from before the wrath of fire racing 
 on the wings of the wind ! Epilepsy so brief of horror, 
 wherefore is it that thou canst not die ? Passing so suddenly 
 1620 into darkness, wherefore is it that still thou sheddest thy sad 
 funeral blights upon the gorgeous mosaics of dreams ? Frag- 
 ment of music too passionate, heard once, and heard no more, 
 what aileth thee, that thy deep rolling chords come up at 
 intervals through all the worlds of sleep, and after forty 
 years, have lost no element of horror ? 
 
 Lo, it is summer — almighty summer ! The everlasting 
 gates of life and summer are thrown open wide ; and on the 
 ocean, tranquil and verdant as a savannah, the unknown 
 lady from the dreadful vision and I myself are floating — she 
 
 1630 upon a fairy pinnace, and I upon an English three-decker. 
 Both of us are wooing gales of festal happiness within the 
 domain of our common country, within that ancient watery 
 park, within the pathless chase of ocean, where England 
 takes her pleasure as a huntress through winter and summer, 
 from the rising to the setting sun. Ah, what a wilderness 
 of floral beauty was hidden, or was suddenly revealed, upon 
 the tropic islands through which the pinnace moved ! And 
 upon her deck what a bevy of human flowers — young women 
 how lovely, young men how noble, that were dancing 
 
 1640 together, and slowly drifting towards us amidst music and 
 incense, amidst blossoms from forests and gorgeous corymbi 
 from vintages, amidst natural carolling, and the echoes of 
 sweet girlish laughter. Slowly the pinnace nears us, gaily 
 she hails us, and silently she disappears beneath the shadow 
 of our mighty bows. But then, as at some signal from 
 heaven, the music, and the carols, and the sweet echoing of girl- 
 ish laughter — all are hushed. What evil has smitten the pin- 
 nace, meeting or overtaking her? Did ruin to our friends couch 
 within our own dreadful shadow? Was our shadow the 
 
DREAM-FUGUE. 105 
 
 shadow of deatli ? I looked over the bow for an answer, 1650 
 and, behold ! the pinnace was dismantled ; the revel and the 
 revellers were found no more ; the glory of the vintage was 
 dust ; and the forests with their beauty were left without a 
 witness upon the seas. " But where," and I turned to our 
 crew — '' where are the lovely women that danced beneath 
 the awning of flowers and clustering corynibi ? Whither 
 have fled the noble young men that danced with tliem ? " 
 Answer there was none. But suddenly the man at the 
 mast-head, whose countenance darkened with alarm, cried 
 out, " Sail on the weather beam ! Down she comes upon us : I66O 
 in seventy seconds she also will founder." 
 
 II. 
 
 I looked to the weather side, and the summer had departed. 
 The sea was rocking, and shaken with gathering wrath. 
 Upon its surface sat mighty mists, which grouped themselves 
 into arches and long cathedral aisles. Down one of these, 
 with the fiery pace of a quarrel from a cross-bow, ran a 
 frigate right athwart our course. " Are they mad 1 " some 
 voice exclaimed from our deck. " Do they woo their ruin ? " 
 But in a moment, as she was close upon us, some impulse 
 of a heady current or local vortex gave a wheeling bias to 1670 
 her course, and ofi^ she forged without a shock. As she ran 
 past us, high aloft amongst the shrouds stood the lady of the 
 pinnace. The deeps opened ahead in malice to receive her, 
 towering surges of foam ran after her, the billows were fierce 
 to catch her. But far away she was borne into desert spaces 
 of the sea : whilst still by sight I followed her, as she ran 
 before the howling gale, chased by angry sea-birds and by 
 maddening billows ; stiU I saw her, as at the moment when 
 she ran past us, standing amongst the shrouds, with her white 
 draperies streaming before the wind. There she stood, with I68O 
 hair dishevelled, one hand clutched amongst the tackling — 
 rising, sinking, fluttering, trembling, praying ; there for 
 leagues I saw her as she stood, raising at intervals one hand 
 to heaven, amidst the fiery crests of the pursuing waves and 
 
io6 THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 the raving of the storm ; until at last, iipon a sound from 
 afar of malicious laughter and mockery, aU was hidden for 
 ever in driving showers ; and afterwards, but when I know 
 not, nor how, 
 
 III. 
 
 Sweet funeral beUs from some incalculable distance, 
 1690 wailing over the dead that die before the dawn, awakened 
 me as I slept in a boat moored to some familiar shore. The 
 morning twilight even then was breaking; and, by the 
 dusky revelations which it spread, I saw a girl, adorned 
 with a garland of white roses about her head for some great 
 festival, running along the solitary strand in extremity of 
 haste. Her running was the running of panic ; and often 
 she looked back as to some dreadful enemy in the rear. 
 But when I leaped ashore, and followed on her steps to 
 warn her of a peril in front, alas ! from me she fled as from 
 1700 another peril, and vainly I shouted to her of quicksands 
 that lay ahead. Faster and faster she ran ; round a pro- 
 montory of rocks she wheeled out of sight ; in an instant I 
 also wheeled round it, but only to see the treacherous sands 
 gathering above her head. Already her person was buried ; 
 only the fair young head and the diadem of white roses 
 around it were still visible to the pitying Jieavens ; and, last 
 of all, was visible one white marble arm. I saw by the 
 early twilight this fair young head, as it was sinking down 
 to darkness — saw this marble arm, as it rose above her head 
 1710 and her treacherous grave, tossing, faltering, rising, clutching, 
 as at some false deceiving hand stretched out from the clouds 
 — saw this marble arm uttering her dying hope, and then 
 uttering her dying despair. The head, the diadem, the arm 
 — these all had sunk ; at last over these also the cruel quick- 
 sand had closed ; and no memorial of the fair young girl 
 remained on earth, except my own solitary tears, and the 
 funeral bells from the desert seas, that, rising again more 
 softly, sang a requiem over the grave of the buried child,,,, 
 and over her blighted dawn. 
 
DREAM-FUGUE. 107 
 
 I sat, and wept in secret the tears that men have ever 1720 
 .given to the memory of those that died before the dawn, 
 and by the treachery of earth, our mother. But suddenly 
 the tears and funeral bells were hushed by a shout as of 
 many nations, and by a roar as from some great king's 
 artillery, advancing rapidly along the valleys, and heard afar 
 by echoes from the mountains. " Hush ! " I said, as I bent 
 my ear earthwards to listen — '" hush ! — this either is the 
 very anarchy of strife, or else "—and then I listened more 
 profoundly, and whispered as I raised my head — "or else, 
 oh heavens ! it is victory that is finaJ, victory that swaUow.s 1730 
 up all strife." 
 
 IV. 
 
 Immediately, in trance, I was carried over land and sea 
 to some distant kingdom, and placed upon a triumphal car, 
 amongst companions crowned with laurel. The .darkness of 
 gathering midnight, brooding over all the land, hid from us 
 the mighty crowds that were weaving restlessly about our- 
 selves as a centre : we heard them, but saw them not. 
 Tidings had arrived, within an hour, of a grandeur that 
 measured itself against centuries; too full of pathos they 
 were, too full of joy, to utter themselves by other language 1740 
 than by tears, by restless anthems, and Te Deums reverber- 
 ated from the choirs and orchestras of earth. These tidings 
 we that sat upon the laurelled car had it for our privilege 
 to publish amongst all nations. And abeady, by signs 
 audible through the darkness, by snortings and tramplings, 
 our angry horses, that knew no fear of fleshly weariness, 
 upbraided us with delay. Wherefore was it that we delayed ? 
 We waited for a secret word, that should bear witness to the 
 hope of nations, as now accomplished for ever. At midnight 
 the secret word arrived ; which word was — Waterloo and 1750 
 Recovered Christendom ! The dreadful word shone by its 
 own light ; before us it went ; high above our leaders' heads 
 it rode, and spread a golden light over the paths which we 
 traversed. Every city, at the presence of the secret word, 
 threw open its gates. The rivers were conscious as we 
 
io8 THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 crossed. All the forests, as we ran along their margins, 
 shivered in homage to the secret word. And the darkness 
 comprehended it. 
 
 Two hours after midnight we approached a mighty 
 
 1760 Minster. Its gates, which rose to the clouds, were closed. 
 But, when the dreadful word that rode before us reached 
 them with its golden light, silently they moved back upon 
 their hinges ; and at a flying gallop our equipage entered the 
 grand aisle of the cathedral. Headlong was our pace ; and 
 at every altar, in the little chapels and oratories to the right 
 hand and left of our course, the lamps, dying or sickening, 
 kindled anew in sympathy with the secret word that was 
 flying past. Porty leagues we might have run in the cathe- 
 dral, and as yet no strength of morning light had reached us, 
 
 1770 when before us we saw the aerial galleries of organ and choir. 
 Every pinnacle of the fretwork, every station of advantage 
 amongst the traceries, was crested by white-robed choristers 
 that sang deliverance ; that wept no more tears, as once 
 their fathers had wept ; but at intervals that sang together 
 to the generations, saying, 
 
 " Chant the deliverer's praise in every tongue," 
 
 and receiving answers from afar, 
 
 " Such as once in heaven and earth were sung." 
 
 And of their chanting was no end ; of our headlong pace was 
 1780 neither pause nor slackening. 
 
 Thus as we ran like torrents — thus as we swept with 
 bridal rapture over the Campo Santo * of the cathedral 
 
 * '' Campo Santo : '' — It is probable that most of my readers will 
 be acquainted with the history of the Campo Santo (or cemetery) at 
 Pisa, composed of earth brought from Jerusalem from a bed of sanc- 
 tity, as the highest prize which the noble piety of crusaders could ask 
 or imagine. To readers who are unacquainted with England, or who 
 (being English) are yet unacquainted with the cathedral cities of Eng- 
 land, it may be right to mention that the graves within-side the 
 cathedrals often form a flat pavement over which carriages and horses 
 might run ; and perhaps a boyish remembrance of one particular 
 cathedral, across which I had seen passengers walk and burdens 
 carried, as about two centuries back they were through the middle of 
 St. Paul's in London may have assisted my dream. 
 
DREAM-FUGUE. 109 
 
 graves — suddenly we became aware of a vast necropolis 
 rising upon the far-off horizon— a city of sepulchres, built 
 within the saintly cathedral for the warrior dead that rested 
 from their feuds on earth. Of purple granite was the 
 necropolis ; yet, in the first minute, it lay like a purple 
 stain upon the horizon, so mighty was the distance. In the 
 second minute it trembled through many changes, growing 
 into terraces and towers of wondrous altitude, so mighty 1790 
 was the pace. In the third minute already, with our 
 dreadful gallop, we were entering its suburbs. Vast 
 sarcophagi rose on every side, having towers and turrets 
 that, upon the limits of the central aisle, strode forward 
 with haughty intrusion, that ran back with mighty shadows 
 into answering recesses. Every sarcophagus showed many 
 bas-reliefs — bas-reliefs of battles and of battle-fields ; battles 
 from forgotten ages, battles from yesterday ; battle-fields 
 that, long since, nature had healed and reconciled to herself 
 with the sweet oblivion of flowers ; battle-fields that were yet 1800 
 angry and crimson with carnage. Where the terraces ran, 
 there did we run ; where the towers curved, there did we 
 curve. With the flight of swallows our horses swept round 
 every angle. Like rivers in flood, wheeling round headlands 
 — like hurricanes that ride into the secrets of forests — faster 
 than ever light unwove the mazes of darkness, our flying 
 equipage carried earthly passions, kindled warrior instincts, 
 amongst the dust that lay around us — dust oftentimes of 
 our noble fathers that had slept in God from Cr^ci to 
 Trafalgar. And now had we reached the last sarcophagus, 1810 
 now were we . abreast of the last bas-relief, already had we 
 recovered the arrow-like flight of the illimitable central aisle, 
 when coming up this aisle to meet us we beheld afar ofl' a 
 female child, that rode in a carriage as frail as flowers. 
 The mists which went TDefore her hid the fawns that drew 
 her, but could not hide the shells and tropic flowers with 
 which she played — but could not hide the lovely smiles by 
 which she uttered her trust in the mighty cathedral, and in 
 the cherubim that looked down upon her from the mighty 
 shafts of its pillars. Face to face she was meeting us ; face 1820 
 
I lo THE ENGLISH MAIL-CO A CH. 
 
 to face she rode, as if danger there were none. " Oh, 
 baby ! " I exclaimed, " shalt thou be the ransom for 
 Waterloo ? Must we, that carry tidings of great joy toi 
 every people, be messengers of ruin to thee ! " In horror I 
 rose at the thought ; but then also, in horror at the thought, 
 rose one that was sculptured on a bas-relief — a Dying 
 Trumpeter. Solemnly from the field of battle he rose to 
 his feet ; and, unslinging his stony trumpet, carried it, in his 
 dying anguish, to his stony lips — sounding once, and yet 
 
 1830 once again ; proclamation that, in thy ears, oh baby ! spoke 
 from the battlements of death. Immediately deep shadows 
 fell between us, and aboriginal silence. The choir had 
 ceased to sing. The hoofs of our horses, the dreadful rattle 
 of our harness, the groaning of our wheels, alarmed the 
 graves no more. By horror the bas-relief had been unlocked 
 unto life. By horror we, that were so full of life, we men 
 and our horses, with their fiery fore-legs rising in mid air to 
 their everlasting gallop, were frozen to a bas-relief. Then a 
 third time the trumpet sounded ; the seals were taken off 
 
 1840 aU pulses ; life, and the frenzy of life, tore into their 
 channels again ; again the choir burst forth in suxmy 
 grandeur, as from the muffling of storms and darkness ; 
 again the thunderings of our horses carried temptation into 
 the graves. One cry burst from our lips, as the clouds, 
 drawing off from the aisle, showed it empty before us. — 
 "Whither has the infant fied? — is the young child caught 
 up to God ? " Lo ! afar off, in a vast recess, rose three 
 mighty windows to the clouds ; and on a level with their 
 summits, at height insuperable to man, rose an altar of purest 
 
 1850 alabaster. On its eastern face was trembling a crimson 
 glory. A glory was it from the reddening dawn that now 
 streamed through the windows ? Was it from the crimson 
 robes of the martyrs painted on the windows % Was it from 
 the bloody bas-reliefs of earth % There, suddenly, within 
 that crimson radiance, rose the apparition of a woman's 
 head, and then of a woman's figure. The child it was — 
 grown up to woman's height. Clinging to the horns of the 
 altar, voiceless she stood — sinking, rising, raving, despairing ; 
 
DREAM-FUG VE. \i\ 
 
 aild behind the volume of incense that, night and day, 
 streamed upwards from the altar, dimly was seen the fiery 1860 
 font, and the shadow of that dreadful being who should 
 have baptized her with the baptism of death. But by her 
 side was kneeling her better angel, that hid his face with 
 wings ; that wept and pleaded for her ; that prayed when 
 she could not ; that fought with Heaven by tears for Tier 
 deliverance ; which also, as he raised his immortal counten- 
 ance from his wings, I saw, by the glory in his eye, that 
 from Heaven he had won at last.. 
 
 V. 
 
 Then was completed the passion of the mighty fugue. 
 The golden tubes of the organ, which as yet had but muttered 1870 
 at intervals — gleaming amongst clouds and surges of incense 
 — threw up, as from fountains unfathomable, columns of heart- 
 shattering music. Choir and anti-choir were filling fast with 
 unknown voices. Thou also. Dying Trumpeter ! — with thy 
 love that was victorious, and thy anguish that was finishing 
 — didst enter the tumult ; trumpet and echo — farewell love, 
 and farewell anguish — rang through the dreadful sanctus. 
 Oh, darkness of the grave ! that from the crimson altar and 
 from the fiery font wert visited and searched by the effulgence 
 in the angel's eye — were these indeed thy children ? Pomps 1880 
 of life, that, from the burials of centuries, rose again to the 
 voice of perfect joy, did ye indeed mingle with the festivals 
 of Death ? Lo ! as I looked back for seventy leagues through 
 the mighty cathedral, I saw the quick and the dead that sang 
 together to God, together that sang to the generations of man. 
 All the hosts of jubilation, like armies that ride in pursuit, 
 moved with one step. Us, that, with laurelled heads, were 
 passing from the cathedral, they overtook, and, as with a 
 garment, they wrapped us round with thunders greater than 
 our own. As brothers we moved together ; to the dawn that 1890 
 advanced — to the stars that fled ; rendering thanks to God 
 in the highest — that, having hid His face through one gen- 
 eration behind thick clouds of War, once again was ascend- 
 
1 1 2 THE ENGLISH MAIL-CO A CH. 
 
 ing, — from the Campo Santo of Waterloo was ascending — 
 in the visions of Peace ; rendering thanks for thee, young 
 girl ! whom, having overshadowed with His ineffable passion 
 of death, suddenly did God relent ; suffered thy angel to turn 
 aside His arm ; and even in thee, sister unknown ! shown to 
 me for a moment only to be hidden for ever, found an occa- 
 
 1900 sion to glorify His goodness. A thousand times, amongst 
 the phantoms of sleep, have I seen thee entering the gates of 
 the golden dawn — with the secret word riding before thee — 
 with the armies of the grave behind thee ; seen thee sink- 
 ing, rising, raving, despairing ; a thousand times in the worlds 
 of sleep have seen thee followed by God's angel through 
 storms, through desert seas, through the darkness of quick- 
 sands, through dreams and the dreadful revelations that are 
 in dreams — only that at the last, with one sling of His vic- 
 torious arm, He might snatch thee back from ruin, and might 
 
 1910 emblazon in thy deliverance the endless resurrections of 
 His love ! 
 
NOTES ON THE REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 
 
 5, steppes, vast flat plains, corresponding to the prairies, 
 savannahs, and pampas of America. Steppes are of three kinds : 
 salt, sand, and grass steppes. Neither of the two former classes 
 is fitted for the permanent home of man or animal ; the salt 
 steppe because it contains no good drinking water, and the sand 
 steppe because the water is only found deep below the surface. 
 But the grassy plains are the home of many a wandering tribe ; 
 even these, however, are varied in their capacity for providing 
 food for the cattle which exist upon them. The plains inhabited 
 by Kirghis and Kalmuck tribes are covered with tall, dense 
 grasses, through which it is difficult for any vehicle to force a 
 passage, while the growth upon the South Russian plains is poor 
 and scanty. 
 
 6, latter half of the last century, January 1771 : terminus a 
 quo, place or goal from which. 
 
 7, terminus ad quem, place or goal to which. 
 
 8, mightiest of Christian thrones, the Eussian, which is the 
 " mightiest " only in extent of territory. 
 
 9, mightiest of Pagan, the Chinese ; Pagan, heathen, Lat. 
 pdganiis (1), a villager (2), a "Pagan," because the rustic people 
 remained the longest unconverted. 
 
 11, romantic circumstances, surrounding events such as we 
 might expect to meet with in a romance, i.e. strange and wonder- 
 ful events accompanying the flight. 
 
 15, this myriad of wills, the wills of these tens of thousands 
 of individuals : a mark so remote, as that of China. 
 
 18, the swallow, a migratory bird: lemming, Masson reads 
 " leeming," and adds in a foot-note that the words and the 
 leeming " are an addition in the reprint of 1854." " Leeming" is, 
 however, a misprint for "lemming," which is a migratory animal 
 of the rat kind. 
 
 Life-witherii% . . . locust. In his Voyage dans I'Empire 
 Othormm, M. Olivier has the following passage : — "With the 
 
 H 
 
114 NOTES ON REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 
 
 burning south winds (of Syria) there come from the interior 
 of Arabia, and from the most southern parts of Persia, clouds of 
 locusts (Acridium peregrinmn), whose ravages to these countries 
 are as grievous and nearly as sudden as those of the heaviest 
 hail in Europe. We witnessed them twice. It is difficult to 
 express the effect produced on us by the sight of the whole atmos- 
 phere fiUed on all sides, and to a great height, by an innumer- 
 able quantity of these insects, whose flight was slow and uniform, 
 and whose noise resembled that of rain : the sky was darkened, 
 and the light of the sun considerably weakened. In a moment 
 the terraces of the houses, the streets, and all the fields were 
 covered by these insects, and in two days they had nearly 
 devoured all the leaves of the plants. Happily, they lived but a 
 short time, and seemed to have migrated only to reproduce them- 
 selves and die ; in fact, nearly all those we saw the next day had 
 paired, and the day following the fields were covered with their 
 dead bodies." 
 
 20, vast artillery. An unusual application of the word "vast," 
 which, as a rule, means great in extent, not great in number, as 
 here. De Quincey uses it merely to mean " great " ; see below, 
 I. 42. 
 
 22, Miltomc images . . . that of the solitary hand ; see Para- 
 dise Lost, bk. vi. 834-79 :— 
 
 " Full soon 
 Among them he arriv'd, in his right hand 
 Grasping ten thousand thunders, which he sent 
 Before him, such as in their souls infix'd 
 
 Headlong themselves they threw 
 Down from the verge of Heaven ; eternal wrath 
 Burnt after them to the bottomless pit." 
 
 28, catastrophes, events of a calamitous nature. Lit., over- 
 turning, from Greek xa^ri, down, a-Tpe^eii/, to turn. 
 
 31, dramatic capabilities, suitability for being made the sub- 
 ject of a drama. 
 
 32, collation, comparison ; formerly, a " conference " ; 0. Fr. 
 collation, Lat. ace. collationern, a bringing together. 
 
 40, "Venice Preserved." A tragedy by Otway (1651-85); 
 "his last and greatest dramatic work," published in 1682: 
 " Fiesco." This tragedy, by Schiller— the great German dramatist, 
 — was published in 1783. 
 
 45, the Egyptian expedition of Cambyses. Cambyses, King of 
 Persia, was the son of Gyrus the Great, whom he succeeded, 
 529 B.C. He conquered the Egyptians, destroyed their god Apis, 
 and plundered their temples. Cambyses afterwards sent an 
 
NOTES ON REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 115 
 
 army of 50,000 men to destroy the temple of Jupiter Ammon, 
 but they were lost hi the deserts of Libya. It is to this that our 
 author alludes. In his Ethiopian War he was not more success- 
 ful, — a horrible famine reducing his soldiers to live one on the 
 other. He died of a small wound he had given himself with his 
 sword as he mounted on horseback, 521 B.C. All historians 
 represent this monarch as a furious tyrant ; lie caused his 
 brother Smerdis to be killed, also his sister Meroe and her 
 husband. 
 
 46, anabasis, Greek, lit. "a going up," march up. Xeno- 
 phon, who was the chief leader of the "retreat," or hatabadi, 
 "going down," wrote a work called the jlwaftasts, giving an 
 account of the expedition of the younger Cyrus against his brother 
 Artaxerxes. 
 
 47, the Parthian expeditions, etc. Parthia — the modern 
 Khorassan — is a country of Asia to the S.E. of the Caspian Sea, 
 The Parthians were a very warlike people, and were especially 
 celebrated as horse-archers. Their tactics became so celebrated 
 as to pass into a proverb. Their mail-clad horsemen spread 
 like a cloud round the hostile arilay, and poured in a shower 
 of darts, and then evaded any closer conflict by a rapid flight, 
 during which they still shot their arrows backward at the 
 enemy. 
 
 48, Craasus — sumamed " Dives " on account of his notorious 
 " greed of gold " — was Consul in 55 B.C., and had Syria assigned 
 to him as his province. He led an expedition against the 
 Parthians, and was defeated by them in the plains of Mesopo- 
 tamia, near Carrhae, the Haran of Scripture. He was shortly 
 afterwards slain at an interview with the Parthian General. 
 
 49, Julian — sumamed the " Apostate " — was Emperor of Rome 
 from A.D. 361-3 ; his brief reign was chiefly occupied by 
 his military preparations against the Persians (the Parthi at 
 this time forming a part of the Persian empire). In 363 he 
 crossed the Tigris, and marched into the interior of the country 
 in search of the Persian King, but was obliged to retreat in conse- 
 quence of the sufferings of his army from want of water and 
 provisions. In his retreat he was attacked by the Persians and 
 slain in battle. 
 
 51, the Russian anabasis and katabasisof Napoleon, Napoleon's 
 well-known march into (anabasis) and retreat from (hatabasis) 
 Russia (1812). 
 
 52, Exodus, departure from one place or country to another ; 
 Grk. ex, out, hodos, a way : authorised by, undertaken by the 
 express sanction of: an oracle, a sacred revealer of the will of 
 the Deity ; the Dalai-Lama of Tibet is here referred to. See 
 pp. 10, 11. 
 
n6 NOTES ON REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 
 
 54, Scriptural Exodus of the Israelites ; see the book of 
 Exodus, ch. xii. ; the exact date of the Exodus is a matter of 
 conjecture, but " a preponderance of evidence is in favour of the 
 year b.c. 1652." 
 
 60, more than attaches to the conspiracies, expeditions, and 
 exodus mentioned above. 
 
 64, scenical, dramatic, such as we expect in dramas. This 
 word is a great favourite with De Quincey. 
 
 66, not beyond the scale. Modern theatres are capable of 
 piitting on their boards representations even of steppes, camels, 
 tents, etc. Horses, elephants, and other live animals have 
 actually been brought on to the modern stage. Very clever 
 imitations of them for stage effect are constantly exhibited. 
 
 68-86. These lines contain asummary of the Revolt of the Tartars. 
 
 94, authentic history. See Appendix to these Notes ; see also 
 Lardner's Cabinet Oyclopnedia, vol. ii. p. 288, and the following 
 account from Appendix G of that work : — 
 
 " Of the Kalmuks or CElcets, brethren of like race with the Mongoles, 
 several branches are in subjection to the Russian empire. Their 
 original abode, if we may use such an expression in speaking of 
 nomadic hordes, is the Kalmuckia, lying westward toward the proper 
 Mongolia, and in the north and east of the lesser Bukharia. At the 
 latter end ot the last century, two tribes of them, the Torgot and 
 Derbet, drew up in the steppe on the Volga above Astrakhan. Till 
 very modern times, they remained, however, only as protected 
 neighbours, and were tolerably independent of the government. But 
 in 1757 the Vice-Khan Dondudidaschi, contrary to the established 
 custom of all the khans to receive their appointment from the Dalai- 
 Lama in Tibet, thought fit, though they are of the Lama religion, to 
 apply to Russia for the nomination of his son as his successor. At 
 Petersburg the request was granted with great satisfaction, which 
 perhaps would not have been the case on an application to Tibet ; the 
 father was constituted actual Khan, and the son, only 13 years old, 
 without hesitation declared successor, with an allowance of 500 roubles 
 per annum, and installed with the usual solemnities. On the death 
 of the father in 1761, Russia thought she had a right to meddle in the 
 affairs of the young sovereign : instead of the accustomed council of 
 eight saissans, it was made to consist of a larger number, whom the 
 Court easUy retained by paying each of the members a salary of 100 
 roubles. The friendly protection was thus (as has happened in various 
 other cases) changed into an actual sovereignty. In consequence of 
 fresh regulations, the Khan lost his former unlimited authority, and 
 became nothing more than the president of his council ; nor had he 
 any longer the right to dismiss this council ; he could only complain 
 to the imperial College of Russia, and he was taught to esteem it 
 advantage enough that the sovereign tribunal stood open to his appeal. 
 In all other respects these Kalmucks retained their religion and their 
 manners : they roamed about the steppe, had an aversion to permanent 
 
:NOTES ON REVOLT OF THE TARTARS, iiy 
 
 dwellings, and lived on the produce of their flocks and herds. These 
 consisted in sheep, camels, and principally in horses ; the whole 
 nation was armed and mounted ) and their favourite drink, like that 
 of aU these Tartar tribes, was a spirituous extract of mare's milk, 
 called in their language koumish. The pasture of these horses 
 requires this roving life, as a father of a ftimily may possess from 
 100 to 1000, and some of them even 4000 head. Many of them were 
 in good circumstances, and very respectable people : kind, generous, 
 and hospitable ; this last quality they possess in an eminent degree, 
 and show it to every one who peaceably enters their tents. But they 
 are quite the reverse to such as attack them as foes, especially to 
 nations whom they acknowledge not as brothers. Accordingly, Russia 
 employed them in hosts in the Prussian War ; and Germany still 
 .recollects with horror the Asiatic savages that were let loose upon her, 
 without regard to morals and the rights of humanity. In the Turkish 
 War they likewise fought for Russia in the district of the Kuban. 
 Such was the situation of them till the year 1770. 
 
 " In the meantime, great heart-bui-nings had longsabsisted among the 
 most considerable of them, on account of the innovations introduced by 
 the Russians. The circumscription of their primitive liberty, their 
 reducing their Khan to a state of dependence, the intermeddling of a 
 foreign nation in their constitution and laws, which begot dissensions 
 and disobedience in the horde, the injuries (real or imaginary) which 
 .some princes had received from Russian officers : all this awakened 
 an irresistible hankering after their former condition ; and as it was 
 iiot to be hoped for where they were, no choice was left but they must 
 seek it in their ancient plains, where their ancestors knew of no Euro- 
 peans. Just at this time the Governor of Astrakhan appointed a 
 lieutenant named Kischenskoi as inspector of these peaceful Kal- 
 mucks. Kischenskoi, a man of insatiable rapacity, by insensible 
 degrees got possession of a great part of their cattle, and sold them to 
 his own benefit. His exactions soon procured him an immense fortune. 
 But his avarice, far from diminishing, seemed rather to increase with 
 the means of its gratification. 
 
 " One of their prijices, a venerable old man who had shed his blood 
 in the service of Russia, in recompense for which the Empress had 
 given him her miniature portrait set round with brilliants, and which 
 he wore suspended to his neck, was one day applied to by Kischenskoi 
 for some presents in addition to those which he had already given 
 him. The old man, irritated at his insolence, could not refrain from 
 breaking out into reproaches on his injustice and the vexations he 
 Sicnpjoyed to the ruin of the unhappy Kalmucks. Kischenskoi, offended 
 at the truth of these reproaches, had the temerity to strike him on the 
 face, and having at the same time ordered one of the saissans, the 
 minister of the Khan, who interposed in his behalf, to be seized by his 
 soldiers, ordered him the punishment of the hattogues.* 
 
 * A sort of punishment used in Eassia for inferior offences. The 
 sufferer is laid on his face upon the ground, stripped to his waist, and the 
 arms and legs extended. Two men, one of whom sits on his neck and the 
 other on his legs, beat him alternately on the back with the battogues. 
 
ii8 NOTES ON REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 
 
 " The Kalmucks had, if not patiently at least quietly, suffered the 
 rapacity and peculations of the Russian officer ; but they could not 
 endure the insult that had been put upon this venerable old man, who 
 stood in great respect among them. The priests and the elders of the 
 horde having held a consultation, resolved to abandon the territory of 
 the Russian empire, and retire to the foot of the mountains of Tibet, 
 the country of their progenitors. The common people were easily 
 persuaded, especially as they were told that the Russian regulations 
 were introduced for no other purpose than to compel them to the three 
 things which they most abhorred : Christianity, agriculture, and the 
 raising recruits. A little priestcraft was also had recourse to on this 
 occasion. The noyons or princes set up a Lama, whom they raised in 
 a moment to be the immortal archpriest or Dalai-Lama, in the following 
 mann_er : — It was propagated abroad that a famous Kalmuck priest, 
 who had died three years before, had now appeared again alive, and 
 had issued a proclamation to the people that he was risen from the 
 dead at Tibet, in the residence of the great Dalai -Lama, of all which a 
 written testmiony was brought from the immortal high priest, in which 
 it was declared that, being now become a being of a superior order, he 
 foreknew the fates and fortunes of the nation, and required them, in 
 the name of their gods, to return, and again take posses.sion of their 
 ancient territory. This happened towards the close of the year 1770, 
 just when they thought it the proper moment for the grand rupture ; 
 otherwise they would have suffered the Lama to have slept quietly in 
 his grave for a longer or a shorter time. 
 
 " It was unpardonable neglect in the commanding officer in those 
 parts not to put a stop to the proceedings of the horde, so as to 
 prevent the emigration, as their intention was publicly known in 
 those parts. He even suffered himself to be duped by the Kalmucks, 
 to whom, on their forging some pretext of apprehension from the 
 Kirghises, their neighbours, he gave two pieces of cannon, with 
 ammunition, and some engineers. Accordingly, in the autumn, they 
 began their march : a prodigious troop, with wives, children, and 
 servants, having their droves, horses, flocks, goods, huts, and tents. 
 The Captain, under the command of the Khan, was forced to migrate 
 with them at the head of his Kozaks. The march was conducted 
 regularly enough, in three troops, who constantly kept in sight ; the 
 flanks of each were particularly covered, and besides this they had a 
 van and a rear-guard. At the beginning they plundered the fisheries 
 and the trading houses on the borders of the Volga and the Caspian, 
 but, on the progress into the Southern Siberia, they came upon the 
 Kozaks of the Yaik, who stopped and pursued the flying horde, cut 
 thousands of them to pieces, and forced thousands to return. In the 
 spring 1771, they were attacked by the Kirghises, their inveterate 
 enemies, who, after a bloody engagement, took many of them prisoners. 
 In the summer they proceeded through the ancient Mongolia to the 
 which are rods of the thickness of the little finger. Persons having any auth- 
 ority over others may inflict tliis punishment upon them without any form 
 of trial or legal process. Nobles and peasants are equally liable to it when 
 it is ordered by superiors. 
 
NOTES ON REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 119 
 
 Chinese borders, where an army of the Mandshu" received them, 
 and afforded them protection. 
 
 " The secret of their flight was so well kept that it was not known 
 to the Russians till two days after their departure. Tliree regiments 
 were sent in pursuit of them, to no purpose. The Kalmucks were 
 more in haste than they ; and, besides, they were two days before 
 them. These regiments wandered a long time in the deserts, and a 
 considerable part of the soldiers perished. 
 
 " When the news of the emigration was brought to St. Petersburg, 
 a corps of troops were ordered by the Court to go in quest of them. 
 But, if the former pursuits were too late, it was not likely that these 
 should come up with them ; the lamentable particulars of this expedi- 
 tion may be read in Captain Rytschkoff's journal, where it may be 
 seen what difficulties and hardships these indefatigable pursuers of the 
 fugitive horde encountered in their devious marches on this unavail- 
 ing expedition, and what variety of distresses they suffered in the 
 dreary, inhospitable regions and waterless deserts through which they 
 passed. At length nothing farther was to be done but to make appli- 
 cation by a written memorial to China, to demand the restitution of 
 the runaways. But the Supreme Tribunal of Pekin answered the 
 rescript of the Russian Senate abruptly, in a scoi'nful and derisory 
 manner, and concluded by saying that ' Their sovereign was not a 
 prince so unjust as to deliver up his subjects, to foreigners, nor so 
 cruel a father as to drive away children who returned to the bosom 
 of their family. That he had no intimation of the design of the 
 Kalmucks till the moment of their arrival ; and that then, without 
 delay, he caused to be restored to them the habitations that had 
 belonged to them from time immemorial. That, in short, the Empress 
 had no reason to complain of the Kalmucks, but certainly of the officer 
 who had dared to lift his hand against a servant of the Khan's, and 
 to order their ministers to undergo the battogues.' The latter was 
 thus subscribed: — 'In the 36th year, the 7th month, and the 13th 
 day of the reign of Kien Long.' ' On various occasions Catharine 
 frequently received from these, her neighbours, answers in a style 
 which must have struck her the more sensibly as she was accustomed 
 to hear from all the other monarohs in the world a very different 
 language. On her applying for a fresh treaty for the renewal of the 
 commerce with China by the caravans, which for several years had 
 been interrupted on account of some differences that had arisen 
 between the subjects of the two potentates, the answer given to her 
 envoy was : — ' Let your mistress learn to keep old treaties, and 
 then it will be time enough to apply for new ones.' Accordingly, 
 we see from her private communications t how sensible she was upon 
 this subject ; and she could scarcely endure to hear any praise, even 
 jestingly, bestowed on the Emperor of China, who was otherwise 
 known as an author and poet. 
 
 " Concerning the number of persons lost to Russia by this emigration, 
 accounts do not agree. Some state It at 130,000 families, which is 
 * The then Emperor of China, 
 ■j- For example, in her correspondence with Voltaire, 
 
I20 NOTES ON REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 
 
 certainly exaggerated. More accurate statements say that the horde 
 in general consisted of not much above 70,000 tents or hearths of 
 families. Those who voluntarily returned (for doubtless many of 
 them, on the fatiguing and painful expedition over the deserts, panted 
 after the more quiet abode on the Volga, and turned back) and tho.se 
 who were brought in by the Kozaks are reckoned together at 12,342 
 tents. Those that escaped, therefore, estimating them at the highest, 
 were 60,000 hearths. But how great the number of the individuals 
 that died upon the road and of those who were carried into captivity 
 by the Kirghises can never be known. 
 
 "A council of war was held to examine into the conduct of 
 Lieutenant-colonel Kischenskoi, and to pronounce upon it. But the 
 business was conducted with negligence and every possible delay. 
 Kischenskoi employed a part of the fruit of his rapine in procuring 
 himself friends at Court or in con'upting his judges ; and to the 
 great scandal of the majority of the Russians, this man, who had 
 occasioned the loss of such a number of subjects to the country, was 
 recompensed by the title of Colonel." 
 
 99, his lot was thrown upon, etc. An idiomatic expression, — 
 " He lived in troublous times." 
 
 101, exasperated, greatly provoked ; Lat. ex, intensive, asper, 
 rough : debasing forms, etc., Lamaism, which is a corrupt form of 
 Buddhism. 
 
 102, an inflated conceit, much too high an opinion. 
 
 104, trying position, somewhat afflicting state. A rather un- 
 pleasant jingle is caused by De Quincey using the word "dis- 
 position " a little lower down in 1. 107. 
 
 104, surveillance, supervision. This is, strictly speaking, a 
 French word not quite naturalised ; it is customary to print such 
 words in italics. Pronounce, — " soor-vay-ahnce." 
 
 105, paramotmt, possessing the highest jurisdiction ; this is the 
 meaning in the text. Its usual meaning is " of the highest im- 
 portance." 0. Fr. jpar amont, at the top, above, lit. "by that 
 which is upwards." Amont is from Lat. ad montem. 
 
 110, under the circumstances, better "in the circumstances"; 
 though " under" is used even by the best writers. 
 
 H 1, a Kalmuck, whoever he might be ; we should have expected 
 " the Kalmuck ruler." 
 
 117, in that extent. " In" is unidiomatic for " to," but is used 
 more than once by De Quincey in the same sense. 
 
 120, for the past, on account of the past. 
 
 122, advertised himself, publicly shown himself to be. 
 
 123, tool, instrument, one whom the Russian Court might use 
 as it pleased. 
 
 129, Cabinet, executive Government. 
 
 137, pointed, direct and bitter. 
 
 160, Machiayelian, more correctly spelt " Machiavellian." 
 
NOTES ON REVOLT OF THE TARTARS, 121 
 
 ^Nicholas Maohiavelli was acelebrated Italian politician and writer. 
 He was born at Florence in 1469 and died there in 1527. For 
 his life any biographical dictionary may be consulted. He wrote 
 several works, — among them one called Thfi Frince, which contains, 
 as some thinls, the most pernicious maxims of government, 
 founded on the vilest principles. The general scope of the books 
 is to show that rulers may resort to any treachery and artifice to 
 uphold their arbitrary power. Machiavelli's name has passed into 
 a proverb for everything that is base, and mean, and treacherous in 
 diplomacy. See line 434. 
 
 161, wMch knew no touch of remorse, remorseless,-^a Shake- 
 spearian phrase. 
 
 170, Elizabeth Petrowna (or Petrovna), Elizabeth, daughter of 
 Peter the Great. She was bom in 1709, and usurped the throne 
 in 1741 ; she died in 1762. 
 
 175, in a quarter, at the Court of Russia. 
 
 176, hoodwinked, blinded. In line 229 we have " blindfolded " 
 used in the same sense. To hoodwink is to make one wink or 
 close his eyes by covering his head with a hood. 
 
 178, opening his snares, gradually unfolding his wily 
 schemes. 
 
 183, sixty-five tents. Reckoning about 5 people to a tent, this 
 would mean " about 300 people." 
 
 185, soliciting, obtaining attention to. This is a peculiar 
 and even unidiomatic use of the word. 
 
 189, introducing the point of that wedge, etc. The expression 
 ■to " introduce or insert the thin end of the wedge " is an idiomatic 
 one, meaning " to effectually begin any attempt." The metaphor 
 is taken from wood-cutting. 
 
 195, balance of power, the proper distribution of authority. 
 
 212, roubles. A "rouble " (a Russian silver coin) is worth three 
 shillings. The bank rottble of account is worth somewhat less 
 than a shilling. 
 
 214,' farther. This should be *' further." The distinction 
 between the use of the two words is not a fanciful one : honorary, 
 intended merely to confer honour : a great Empress, Elizabeth. 
 ■See note on line 191. 
 
 260, colossal, huge, gigantic. In this word is embodied the 
 doubtful story of the Colossus of Rhodes. 
 
 263, worm as he was. See Exodus xxxv. 6, and Psalm 
 Xixii. 6. , 
 
 264, behemoth of Muscovy, empire of Russia. The name 
 "behemoth" is used in the Bible {Job xl. 15) either for the 
 elephant or the hippopotamus. It now signifies any huge beast. 
 " Muscovy," Russia. Formerly Moscow and the adjacent country 
 alone constituted Russia. 
 
122 NOTES ON REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 
 
 266, " lion ramp," lion-like spring or bound. The phrase is 
 taken from Milton's Samson Agonistes, 1. 139 : — 
 
 " The bold Asealonite 
 Fled from his lion ramp." 
 
 267, " baptized and infidel," Christian and Pagan. See Milton, 
 Paradise Lost, i. 582. 
 
 269, " Barbaric East." De Quincey had in mind Milton : — 
 
 ' ' Where the gorgeous Bast with richest hand 
 Showers on her kings larbaric pearl and gold." — P.L,, ii. 3. 
 
 270, The match was a monstrous one, the struggle, the con- 
 test was an unnatural one — a feeble Kalmuck pitted against the 
 Eussian empire. 
 
 271, monstrosity. A most unusual application of the word. 
 We should have expected " monstrousuess." 
 
 313, the head of their religion. See line 362. " Lama " is a 
 Thibetan word meaning priest. Lamaism is the prevailing 
 religion of Thibet and other parts of Asia. It is an offshoot of 
 Buddhism (the prevailing religion of China), which it very much 
 resembles. The Dalai-Lama, or chief of this religion, is the 
 successor, or, rather, a pretended incarnation of Buddha. He 
 is looked upon as an omniscient and eternal divinity, and hence 
 his death occasions no visible grief or mourning, as it is only 
 regarded as his disappearance, and his reappearance is patiently 
 waited for in his successor. The Dalai sometimes points out his 
 successor ; at other times the books are consulted for that purpose. 
 When officiating, the Dalai sits cross-legged and statuelike upon 
 magnificent cushions over the altar, dressed in splendid robes, 
 noticing nobody, and moving only his hands to bless the people. 
 Sometimes he distributes balls made of paste, clay, or otlier 
 materials, which are regarded of infinite efl&cacy. The title of 
 Lama is given to the head of every monastery, and every Lama is 
 considered a vicar of the Deity, and requires implicit obedience 
 to all his commands, like the Dalai-Lama himself. Their temples 
 are in the Indo-Chinese form, square, fronting the east in Thibet 
 and the south in Mongolia. They have three gates and three 
 interior divisions, viz., the entrance-hall, the body of the edifice 
 ■with two parallel rows of columns, and the sanctuary with the 
 throne of the High Lama. There are numerous statues, paintings 
 of the gods, ornaments, and implements of all sorts. The walls 
 and columns are inscribed with prayers, and there are also poles 
 bearing flags with prayers. Prayer-wheels, the turning of which 
 is supposed to be equally efiicacious with vocal supplication, are 
 to be seen everywhere. Festival days, ceremonies, and pageants 
 of all kinds, varied with the performances of magicians, as well 
 as fasts, sacraments, and noisy music, animate the zeal of the 
 
NOTES ON REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 123 
 
 faithful. Dead Lamas are commonly embalmed and preserved in 
 pyramids. The bodies of rich laymen are burned,' and their ashes 
 preserved, while those of the common people are either exposed 
 to be devoured by birds, or eaten by sacred dogs kept for the 
 purpose. Rich persons about to die are assisted by Lamas, who 
 open a passage for the soul through the skull. The principal 
 holy place in Thibet is Lassa, in and around which are an 
 immense number of monasteries. The most renowned of the 
 Lamaic schools is that of the Lhabrang or Cathedral of Lassa. 
 In many of the monasteries are also schools of magic. The Lamas 
 also act as physicians, effecting their cures by prayers and some 
 innocent medicaments. 
 
 315, the Great Chinese Wall. The most stupendous of all the 
 public undertakings of China is that known by the name of the 
 Great Wall. This mighty rampart has been drawn along the 
 whole northern, and part of the western frontier, over a vast 
 chain of mountains, the sinuosities of which it follows through- 
 out a course of about 1400 miles. On the plain it is 30 feet 
 high, but when carried over rocks, 15 or 20 feet are found a 
 sufficient height. The thickness of the whole wall at the base is 
 25 feet, diminishing to 20 and 15 feet at the platform. It is 
 defended by towers placed at given distances, 40 feet square at 
 the base and nearly the same in height. This immense work was 
 built about two hundred years before the Christian era, as a 
 defence against the wandering tribes of Tartars who have in- 
 habited the wild country beyond it from time immemorial. It is 
 constructed of earth or rubbish cased on each side by brick-work. 
 
 342, titular, having the title without possession or enjoy- 
 ment. The " Prince of Arcot," for instance, is a titular prince. 
 
 347, Lama. See note on line 313 : pontiff, high priest, from 
 Latin Pontifex, a Roman high priest. The title pontiff, or 
 supreme pontiff, is usually applied to the Pope of Rome. " Pon- 
 tiff" means "literally a 'path-maker' or 'road-maker,' but the 
 reason for the name is not .known. Lat. ponti, — crude form of 
 pons, a path, a bridge, facere, to make." (Skeat.) 
 
 357, howling wildemeBS. The expression is from the Bible 
 (Deuteronomy xxxii. 10). A wild and desolate tract of country, 
 the abode of howling beasts. 
 
 358, their own ancient hearths, the houses and tents they had 
 inhabited for upwards of a century. See the "inscription" at 
 the end. 
 
 363, Dalai-Lama. See note on 1. 313 : Him. Note the emphasis 
 that is given to this word by placing it first in the sentence. 
 
 367, the years of the tiger and the hare. The order of the 
 vears was :— The year of (1) the mouse, (2) the buU, (3) the tiger 
 or leopard, (4) the hare, (5) the crocodile, (6) the snake, (7) the 
 
124 NOTES ON REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 
 
 -horse, (8) the ram, (9) the monkey, (10) the cock, (11) the dog, 
 (12) the hog. The Persians have the same cycle of twelve years, 
 which they would seem to have adopted from the Tartars. 
 
 378, ring fence, a fence encircling an estate within one en- 
 closure, an enclosing fence or linej^^-or simply anything which 
 protects a tract of country on all sides. 
 
 411, war . . . between Bussia. and the Sultan. The facts are 
 thus given in Lodge's Modem Europe, p. 446 : — 
 
 "The Sultan, Mustafa III., was opposed to intervention in Poland, 
 but his hand was forced by a rising in Constantinople, and he declared 
 war against Russia in October 17-68. Hostilities were not commenced 
 till the next year, and they never assumed considerable proportions. 
 The Turkish army was in the last stage of inefficiency, and the 
 Russians, who were wholly unprepared for war, were little better. 
 Galitzin, an incompetent commander, defeated the Grand Vizier, and 
 took Khoozira after his first att3.ck had been repulsed. His successor, 
 Eomanzow, 'the Eussian Turenne,' acted with greater energy. He 
 drove the Turks from Moldavia, and in 1770 he occupied Wallachia, 
 won a great victory over vastly superior numbers at Kaghul, and 
 advanced into the Crimea. At the same time a Eussian fleet appeared 
 in the Mediterranean with the avowed intention of restoring Greece to 
 independence. But the admiral, Alexis Orloff, mismanaged the ex- 
 pedition. After encouraging the Greeks to rebel, he left them to the 
 horrors of a, Turkish revenge, and sailed towards Constantinople. A 
 victory over the Turkish fleet gave him possession of Cliios and other 
 islands of the Archipelago, but he refused, in spite of hjs English 
 officers, to attempt the passage of the Dardanelles. So far from being 
 able to assist the Poles, the Turks were reduced to the greatest straits, 
 and were compelled to think seriously of peace." 
 
 434, Machiaveliau eyes. See note on 1. 160. 
 
 443, within the truth, not overstated. 
 
 451, a pitched battle, the opposite of a skirmish. A battle 
 in which the opposing armies come out from their fixed positions 
 and engage in battle. 
 
 460, Paladins, distinguished champions or knights. Origi- 
 nally the word meant " officers of tihe Palatium or Byzantinp 
 palace, — a high dignitary." From Lat. palatinus, belonging to 
 the palace. 
 
 467, anchor his hopes ... to wean him. An instance of 
 mixed metaphor. Fix his hopes of aggrandisement ou Bnssia 
 and draw him away from anything opposed to her interests. 
 
 474, ukase, a Russian term for an edict either proceeding 
 from the Senate or direct from the Emperor ; from the Russian 
 ukasai, to speak. 
 
 486, yoke, dominion. The word comes to have this sense 
 from the old Roman practice of making a yoke of three spears^ 
 two upright and one resting on them. When an armj w^as van- 
 
JSrOT£S ON REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 125 
 
 quislied by the Romans, the prisoners df war had to lay down 
 tneir arms and pass under this archway of spears. 
 
 491, commandants. Note that this word is accented on the 
 last syllable. 
 
 493) mummeries, tomfooleries, farcical ceremonies. The word 
 "mummer," says Skeat, "is imitative from the word mum or 
 mom, used by nurses to frighten children, at the same time prfe- 
 tending to cover their faces." 
 
 495, the trampled worm. A reference to the proverb " Tread 
 on a worm and it will turn," i.e. even the meanest creature will 
 resent injuries when they become unbearable. 
 
 506, Catherine II. She was the daughter of the Prince of 
 Anhalt Zerbst. Her original name was Sophia Augusta, but on 
 her marriage, 1745, with the Grand Duke of Russia, afterwards 
 Peter III., she was baptized according to the formulary of the 
 Greek Church, and named Catherine Alexiewna. She brought 
 her husband two children : Paul, who succeeded her, and Anne, 
 who died an infant. On the death of the Empress Elizabeth, 
 1761, Peter came to the throne, and soon discovered his intention 
 of disinheriting his son and divorcing Catherine. She, however, 
 anticipated his designs, and formed a conspiracy against him. 
 Accordingly, she gained over the nobility and the army, and on 
 June 27, 1762, Peter, after signing a renunciation of his crown, 
 was sent prisoner to the palace of Robscha. Between the prisons 
 and graves of princes the distance is short. On the I7th of July, 
 Alexius Orloif, the Empress's favourite,, with some others, 
 strangled Peter, who, the Empress gave out, had died of colic. 
 She did not take any measures against the assassins, and in the 
 following September was crowned at Moscow. The regulations 
 adopted at the begiiming^ of her reign were in the manner and 
 spirit of Peter the Great. She aflfected to rule by clemency, and 
 laboured to win the hearts of her subjects by acts of liberality. 
 She also avoided foreign war tiU. she had settled the tranquillity 
 of the empire. The passions of this woman were as gross as her 
 mental powers to govern her empire were great. She was born 
 in 1729 and died in 1796. 
 
 519, this great dismemberment, — that is, the separation of the 
 Tartars from the Russian Empire. 
 
 523, purposes. In operating on the fears of the Sargatchi, who 
 were still wavering. 
 
 561, ghostly, from the World of spirits. 
 
 580, derived his title or claim to the throne. 
 
 590, facility, easiness of disposition, pliancy. 
 
 623, to be put upon the hazard, to be risked. A metaplior 
 taken from gambling. 
 
 654, Sarepta, a Moravian colony in the government of Sara- 
 
126 NOTES ON REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 
 
 tov, on the Sarpa, near the great bend of the Volga. Mechanical. 
 " The " mechanical is more idiomatic. 
 
 659, insolent ; from in, not, and salens, pres. pt. of solere, to be 
 accustomed. Its original meaning was simply " not customary, 
 unusual." Like not a few other words, it has undergone a process 
 of degradation. 
 
 665, en masse, French for " in the lump, in a body." 
 
 671, to speak. Note the aposiopesis here. 
 
 682, before resorting, etc., before trying any precipitate means of 
 redress. 
 
 683, opened, gradually made known. 
 
 690, seduction. A somewhat unusual application of the word 
 in an active sense. 
 
 692, held out, proposed : the Temba, spelt " Emba " in Black's 
 Atlas of the Wwld. A river of Turkistan, in the Kirghiz 
 territory ; flows S.W., and after a course of 300 miles falls into 
 the Caspian Sea. 
 
 716, surveillant, overseer, supervisor. 
 
 751, in the very crisis. De Quincey constantly uses " in " 
 where it is more usual to employ " at." Attention has already 
 been drawn to his use of " in " for " to." 
 
 761, visionariness, fancifulness, unreality. 
 
 776, a bore, a nuisance, a person who wearies one by con- 
 stantly repeating the same thing. A metaphorical use of the word 
 to lore ; A.S. iorian, to perforate. 
 
 781, expired of grief. Lardner, in his account, asserts, on the con- 
 trary, that after a sham trial Kischinskoi was actually rewarded ! 
 
 796, drew off (i.e. from the main body), departed. 
 
 799, horde, tribe, especially of Tartars ; from the Persian 
 Crdii, a camp, horde of Tartars : falling in, joining the ranks of the 
 fugitives. 
 
 801, staid. Now usually spelt " stayed," to differentiate it from 
 " staid," sober, steady. 
 
 808, cutting off, etc., putting an absolute check upon any 
 infirmity of purpose which, when they began to feel the terrible 
 hardships of the journey, might lead some to make an effort to 
 return. To what could they return ? To desolate and ruined 
 homes. In this there was no hope. Only by going on might 
 they expect " the land of promise." 
 
 816, part of. The repetition of this phrase rather grates upon 
 one, and is unnecessary. For the second " part of " it would be 
 better to say " such of the wood-work as." 
 
 822, a character. We should have expected " the character." 
 
 823, valedictory vengeance, a final and farewell act of revenge 
 for their supposed wrongs. 
 
 824, the main motives, etc. The publicly-stated motives are 
 
NOTES ON REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 127 
 
 given in lines 645-674, but Zebek-Dorchi's real motives will be 
 found in lines 253-259. 
 
 845, Buoh, i.e. as has been stated. 
 
 850-1, might not be . . . might even be, better, "might not 
 have been" . . . "might even have been." 
 
 857, construed into certain signs, interpreted as sure indications. 
 
 894, Huns, a famous barbaric people, who are generally said 
 to have bad an Asiatic origin and to have been of the Mongol 
 race. They figured for the first time in European history at the 
 end of the fourth century. Avars, a fierce predatory people 
 inhabiting the Eastern Caucasus, nominally subject to Russia. 
 Mongol Tartars, wandering hordes of that nomadic race which, 
 under the name of Mongols or Moguls, has been so celebrated 
 for its invasions of Northern India and China. 
 
 904, vials of wrath. The phrase is a Biblical one : — " And 
 I heard a great voice out of the temple saying to the seven angels, 
 Go your ways and pow out the vials of the wrath of God upon the 
 earth" {Revelation xvi. 1). 
 
 919, Children of Israel. See Genesis, chapters xii. and xiii. 
 
 929, a pestilence . . . which visited Athens. The reference is to 
 the devastating plague at Athens, which spread into Egypt and 
 Ethiopia, 430 B.C. It is very graphically described by Thucy- 
 dides. See Grote's History of Greece, Part ii. xlix. 
 
 930, Peloponnesian War. This war continued for 27 years 
 between Athens and the people of Peloponnesus. It began by 
 an attempt of the Boeotians to surprise Platsea, b.c. 431, and 
 ended in 404 when Athens was captured by the Lacedaemonians : 
 London (Plague in). The great Plague of London began 
 December 1664, and carried off nearly 100,000 persons. The 
 best description of it is that by Defoe. 
 
 937, Jerusalem. During the reign of the Emperor Nero, the 
 Jews rebelled against the tyranny of the Proconsuls, and 
 Vespasian was sent with three legions to quell the revolt. He 
 prosecuted the war with vigour until he was proclaimed Emperor, 
 1st July, A.D. 69. Titus ("his son") remained in Palestine to 
 carry on the siege of Jerusalem. He finally captured and burnt 
 the city on 8th September, a.d. 70. See Josephus, History of tJie 
 Wars of the Jews. 
 
 949, the river Jaik, the river Ural or Yaik. After a course 
 of about 1800 miles it enters the Caspian Sea 180 miles from 
 Astracan. 
 
 951, Forced. A forced march is a very long march, one which 
 taxes the energy and strength to the utmost. 
 
 957, a mere phantom of the wilderness, a mere mirage : 
 a visionary rainbow. See Genesis ix. 11-17. The "rainbow" 
 is the sign of God's covenant, and of his promise that the flood 
 
128 NOTES ON REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 
 
 should cease. Tlie fugitive Tartars had before their eyes, as it 
 were in a vision, the bow which led them to hope that their woes 
 and sufferings would soon have an end. 
 
 971, a scenical propriety, as much propriety as the general 
 setting of a play on the stage of a theatre. 
 
 975, raising the curtain. A metaphor taken from the theatre. 
 
 983, decrement, decrease, lessening of. 
 
 992, achamement ; French for "fierce cruelty, fellness." 
 
 1028, Bactrian camels, a two-humped species of camel. Bactria 
 is the ancient name of a province now called Balkh, which is 
 situated directly north of Afghanistan, and separated from it by 
 the western part of the Hindoo-Koosh mountains. It was a 
 powerful country in the early ages of the world, but nothing 
 certain is known of its history. When Alexander the Great 
 overran Asia with his Macedonian and Greek troops, he estab- 
 lished a Greek colony there, and fortified a city for its pro- 
 tection. Bactria was tributary to Persia for fifty years after 
 the death of Alexander, but was afterwards annexed to the 
 great Syrian empire formed by Seleucus Nicator, about 
 312 B.C. 
 
 1084, Torgai, otherwise spelt " Turghai " oi " Torgau.'' Geo- 
 graphers spell the name in all sorts of ways. 
 
 1113, "trashed," checked, and thus exhausted. See Scott's 
 Black Dwarf, eh. ix., " Sair trashed wi' his night wark ; " see 
 also Shakespeare's Tempest, i. 2. 81 : — 
 
 " Who to trash for overtopping." 
 and in Othello, ii. 1. 312 : — 
 
 ' ' This poor trash of Venice, who I trash 
 For his quick hunting." 
 
 1118, too capital an interest, a matter of such supreme im- 
 portance that minor interests must yield to it : summa rerum, 
 the main thing. 
 
 1133, brief, a week. See 1. 1121. 
 
 1134, to take an . . . calculation, to " make " a calculation is the 
 usual phrase. 
 
 1166, in reversion. A legal phrase. Here it means simply 
 " that were to come to them. 
 
 1174, division. A military term. Two or more brigades under 
 the command of a General are called " a division." 
 
 1181, Ouchim, Ichim, south of Tobolsk, on the river Irtish. 
 
 1200, elite, French for "pick, choicest." 
 
 1205, Polish. It is hard to see what De Quincey means here. 
 He probably uses " Polish dragoons " to mean " heavy cavalry," as 
 opposed to the " light Cossack cavalry." 
 
NOTES ON REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 129 
 
 1206, cameleers. In the Egyptian campaign for the relief of 
 Gordon the troops mounted on camels were styled " camelry." 
 
 1219, well appointed, etc., consisting of infantry, cavalry, and 
 artillery well supplied with war material. 
 
 1221, Bashkirs, a Tartar tribe of Russia, where they occupy 
 a portion of the Government of Orenburg, Perm, and Viatka. 
 These people are in Asia generally called Isohtiaks. They live 
 principally in tents and on the produce of the chase, troubling 
 themselves but little with agriculture, except in the winter, which 
 they pass in their villages. Rich gold and platina mines exist in 
 their territory. They are Mahommedans, and pay no taxes, but 
 are all held under military service to guard the frontier. Their 
 number is about 200,000, of whom 70,000 are enrolled on the 
 same footing as the Don Cossacks. 
 
 1222, Eirghises, a numerous and widely-extended people of 
 Independent Tartary, occupying a great part of the southern 
 frontier of Asiatic Russia. The area over which they extend is 
 estimated at 1,530,000 square miles, chiefly composed of barren 
 plains, and abounding in salt lakes, some of which are 100 miles 
 in length. The Kirghises are a Mongol race, divided into hordes, 
 and numbering about 250,000. 
 
 1232, significantly, in a way that could not be misunderstood. 
 It was clear that they meant to put all prisoners to the sword. 
 
 1243, dilapidated, ruined ; from the Latin dis, apart, and 
 lapk, a stone, signifying the disintegration or decay of stone, as 
 in a ruinous building. It is now commonly used in the general 
 sense of decay or ruin in anything, so that " a dilapidated na,t " is 
 often spoken of. De Quincey's expression, " dilapidated state of 
 their resources, " is still more extraordinary. 
 
 1295, arid and adust, dried up and scorched-looking creatures : 
 munmiies. An allusion to the " Egyptian mummies." The 
 word mummy is derived from the Persian word mUbmAyin, 
 an embalmed body, from Persian m6m, wax, much used in 
 embalming. 
 
 1304, Xerxes. In B.C. 480, Xerxes determined to invade 
 Greece, and bridged the Hellespont. Over this bridge " the whole 
 Persian army defiled in safety, while Xerxes, seated on a marble 
 throne on the Asiatic shore, watched the interminable line of 
 march as it pressed forward into Europe. At the sight of such 
 countless, myriads of men, even the reckless despot was touched 
 by a feeling of common humanity ; he burst into tears when he 
 reflected that of the whole host not one man would be alive a 
 hundred years hence." (Oman, p. 195.) . , , ' 
 
 1311, untread, retrace. 
 
 1314, to become the scapegoat, — that is, to yield himself up to 
 the Czarina and undergo, for his people, whatever punishment 
 
 I 
 
I30 NOTES ON REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 
 
 she might inflict upon him. The allusion is to the Jewish 
 custom : — Two goats being brought to the altar of the Tabernacle 
 on the day of atonement, the high priest cast lots ; one was /or 
 the Lwd and the other /or Azazel. The goat on which the first 
 lot fell was sacrificed, the other was the " scapegoat ; " and the 
 high priest having, by confession, transferred his own sins and 
 the sins of the people to it, the goat was taken to , the wilderness 
 and suffered to escape. See the Bible (Lemticvs xvi. 20 and 
 following verses). 
 
 13 5, the land of promise ; as Canaan was to the Israelites 
 (Genesis xvii. 8). 
 
 1346, the house of bondage ; as Egypt was to the Israelites 
 {Exodus xiii. 14). 
 
 1356, Oriembourg, Orenburg, the capital of a province of the 
 same name. The most westerly government in Asiatic Kussia. 
 
 1381, why, his reason. 
 
 1419, rounded and matured, made perfect in every way. 
 
 1445, to his . . . afliction. This is a very idiomatic use of the 
 " to." There is a sort of ellipsis, — (a matter which added) " to," 
 etc. 
 
 1459, Hetman, commander. 
 
 1462, suite, following, among those who accompanied him. 
 
 1465, read treachery, perceived that some act of treachery 
 towards Oubacha was intended. 
 
 1492, patrols, those who go the rounds in a garrison or camp. 
 Skeat, in his Mym. Did., devotes a long note to this word. 
 
 1504, dismounted, beaten from their horses. 
 
 1557, Desultors, the most important and most ancient portion 
 of the shows of the Roman circus consisted of chariot and horse 
 races. Besides single horse races, there were occasionally races in 
 which one man rode two horses, vaulting from one to the other — 
 hence the name " Desultores." 
 
 1562, staggered, made Weseloflf's friends hesitate to believe the 
 story he told them of the extraordinary speed at which he and 
 the Kalmucks had retraversed such vast distances. 
 
 1590, circumstantially, in every circumstance or particular, 
 minutely. 
 
 1598, more feU, etc. The line is from Othello, v. 2. 316 :— 
 
 ' ' Spartan dog, 
 More fell than anguish, hunger, or the sea ! " 
 
 1608, grinding famine. Note the expressiveness of the epithet 
 " grinding " famine, which crushed and ground aU the life out of 
 them. 
 
 1623, post equitem, etc. A quotation from Horace, 
 1. 40, " Behind the horseman sits black Care." 
 
NOTES ON REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 131 
 
 1624, imdying worm. A Biblical expression. See Si. Mark's 
 Gospel, ix. 44, 46, 48. 
 
 1632, "from mom to dewy eve." Wrongly quoted from 
 Milton's Paradise Lost, bk. i. 742, where it is described how 
 Mulciber was thrown by angry Jove : — 
 
 "Sheer o'er the crystal battlements : from morn 
 To noon he fell, from noon to deviy eve." 
 
 1666, too atrocious, too horrible for description. 
 
 1669, Kien Long or Kien Loong. He succeeded his father 
 Yung Tching, as Emperor of China, in 1735. He wrote some 
 poetical pieces, and, when Lord Macartney went to China as Am- 
 bassador, gave him some of his verses to present to the King of 
 England. He favoured the missionaries, and was in all respects 
 a very amiable monarch. Born in 1709, he died in 1799, and 
 was thus a contemporary of Gray, Collins, Goldsmith, and 
 Cowper. 
 
 1692, yagers. German Josjfgr, a hunter. 
 
 1717, "indorsed." Lat. in, and dorsum, the back. Obsolete 
 and very rare. See Milton's Pa/radise Regained, bk. iii. 329, 
 describing the retreat of Anthony from Parthia. 
 
 1775, cortege (French), train of attendants. 
 
 1791, Tengis, now usually called Lake Balkash : Kobi, Gobi or 
 Cobi. A range of country in Central Asia, comprising a large 
 part of Chinese Turkestan and Mongolia. It is 1300 miles long, 
 with a varying breadth of from 400 to 800 miles. It is mostly 
 a sandy desert, bounded by rocks and dotted here and there with 
 oases. 
 
 1878, " globes " and " turms.'' Imitated from Eoman (Latin) ex- 
 pressions. By " globes " (Lat. globi) are meant knots, bands, or 
 bodies of men. Both Livy and Tacitus use the word in this 
 sense. " Turms," troops, throngs. The Lat. turmse were squad- 
 rons of 30 men each. Ten such " turms " formed the regular 
 complement of 300 men attached to each Eoman legion. 
 
 1906, Ily, otherwise spelt "Ble." The chief town on this 
 river is Gouldja, containing upwarde of 50,000 inhabitants. The 
 " Ily " or "Ele" flows into Lake Tengis or Balkash. 
 
 1911-26. Translation:— 
 
 "The nation of the Torgotes (to'wit, the Kalmucks) arrived at Ily 
 in a state of utter destitution, having neither food nor clothing. I 
 had foreseen this, and had given command to make every kind of pro- 
 vision necessary to succour them promptly ; this was done. The 
 lands were divided, and to each family was given a portion sufficient 
 to serve for its maintenance either by cultivation or by grazing cattle. 
 To each private person materials were given to clothe him, corn to 
 feed him for the space of one year, household utensils and other 
 
132 NOTES ON REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 
 
 necessaries, besides several ounces of silver to provide himself with 
 what might have been forgotten. Particular places fertile in pas- 
 turage were given them, also oxen, sheep, etc., so that they might in 
 process of time work by themselves for their own livelihood and 
 welfare." 
 
 1933-1947. Translation :— 
 
 " When they arrived upon our frontiers (to the number of many 
 hundred thousands, although extreme fatigue, hunger, thirst, and all 
 the hardships inseparable from a very long and very painful journey 
 had caused almost as many to perish, they were reduced to the utmost 
 misery,) they were in need of everything. He (viz., the Emperor 
 Kien Long) had caused to be prepared for them dwelling-places suited 
 to their mode of living ; he had food and clothing distributed among 
 them ; he gave them oxen, sheep, and utensils, to put them in the way 
 of forming flocks and herds and cultivating the land, aud all that at 
 his own expense, which amounted to immense sums, without reckoning 
 the money that he gave to each head of a family to provide sustenance 
 for his wife and children. " 
 
 2005, lex talionis (Lat.), law of retaliation. Used to denote 
 a mode of punishing crime by doing to the criminal the same 
 hurt which he has done to his neighbour. 
 
 2006, " Lex nee justior, etc." The quotation is from Ovid, Art. 
 Am,, i. 655. More correctly " Neque enim lex sequior uUa, etc." 
 Translation — " Nor is any law more just than that by which th6 
 contriver of a murder perishes by his ovni artifice." Cf. Hamlet, 
 ii. 4. 207. 
 
 " ' Tis the sport to have the engineer 
 Hoist with his own petar." 
 
 See also the Bible — {Proverbs xxviii. 10). 
 
 2013, lares. See Dictionary of Antiquities. Here used simply 
 to mean " household gods," household possessions. 
 
 2018, Arcadian, the centre of the Peloponnesus (Greece). It 
 is mountainous and finely wooded. The poets have repeatedly 
 celebrated its beauties in verse. 
 
APPENDIX. 133 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 (From Milner's Evssia; its Rise and Revolutions.) 
 
 About the same time that the plague made its appearance at 
 Moscow, a large number of subjects was lost to the empire by 
 nearly an entire race suddenly withdrawing from it to return to 
 the seat of their forefathers. In the year 1630, Mongols of the 
 Torgouth and Derbet tribes, better known in Europe and Western 
 Asia by the name of Kalmucks, arrived on the banks of the 
 Volga, having left the borders of tne Great Wall of China and the 
 protection of the Chinese Emperor, from unknown causes. They 
 extended themselves in separate hordes over the vast unoccupied 
 steppes on both sides of the Volga, from thence to the Don, and 
 along the shores of the Caspian to the slopes of the Caucasus. 
 Being nomadic in their habits by disposition and necessity, they 
 passed the winter in the south of this district and the summer in 
 the north, but seldom occupied the same spot more than a few 
 weeks together, owing to the herbage being exhausted, returniug 
 to it again when reclothed with grass. Broad faces, small eyes, 
 and flat noses, with a very swarthy complexion, marked their 
 physiognomy, and proclaimed their Asiatic origin. These 
 nomads tilled no land, but kept extensive flocks and herds, con- 
 sisting of sheep, oxen, camels, and especially horses. Horse-flesh 
 was their ordinary food, and koumiss, a preparation of mare's 
 milk, a daily drink. They sang the praises of the bright bay 
 steed, vieing with the wind in swiftness, and of the charming 
 little grass in the steppe bending to the breeze : — " God, our Lord, 
 thou wilt grant us of thy grace to meet in another country." 
 They lived in tents of black felt, of cylindrical shape, with a 
 conical top, open at the apex to let out the smoke. Though in- 
 otfensive among themselves, and hospitable in the extreme to 
 strangers, interference easily rendered them impatient, and injury 
 provoked implacable hostility. As Buddhists in religion they 
 had priests and high" priests, subject to and in correspondence 
 with the Dalai-Lama in Thibet, who resided separate from the 
 particular camp to which they were attached, as a distinct 
 superior body. After death the bodies of the high priests were 
 burnt with great ceremony, and the ashes deposited in small 
 temples erected for the purpose of receiving them, usually in the 
 most unfrequented parts of the wilderness, from which the people 
 ever afterwards kept aloof, in order not to profane them by their 
 presence. The traveller occasionally stumbles upon these lonely 
 tombs in the sandy wastes. 
 
134 APPENDIX TO 
 
 Tlie Kalmuck tribes included numerous hordes, each under a 
 chief ; but all acknowledged a superior prince or khan, whose 
 rule was hereditary. Without becoming Russian subjects, they 
 accepted the protection of the empire, and considered themselves 
 bound to contribute to its necessities, as protected neighbours, by 
 a military contingent. Hence Peter I., when descending the 
 Volga on his expedition-to Persia, sought an interview with 
 Aiouki, Khan of the Kalmucks. This prince, a hearty old man 
 of seventy, with his queen, visited the Czar on board his galley, 
 and was received with sovereign honours. Peter requested the 
 aid of 10,000 of his troops, but Aiouki thought 5000 sufficient, 
 and placed them at his disposal. This Khan was Lord- 
 paramount of the country from the northerly bend of the Volga 
 to the foot of the Caucasus. A great tumulus, stUl known by the 
 name of Bairin Tolkon, the " Mountain of Joy," marks the spot 
 where he defeated the Nogais of the Kuban, and buried those who 
 fell in the battle. Though in connection with Russia, he secretly 
 maintained relations with China ; and an embassy under a man- 
 darin reached him from the Court of Pekin, by the way of Siberia, 
 with assurances of friendship. It must have been managed very 
 adroitly not to have awakened the suspicions of the Russian 
 authorities. 
 
 Upon the decease of Aiouki in 1724, dissensions arose in his 
 family with reference to the sovereignty, which were diligently 
 fomented by the agents of Russia, with the view of converting 
 friendly protection into actual dominion. By intrigues and 
 bribes, the riglit of investing a new khan was transferred from 
 the Dalai-Lama of Thibet to the Court of St. Petersburg, and the 
 tribes were put under the special control of a Russian superin- 
 tendent, subordinate to the Governor of Astrachan. Still, 
 Oubacha, the Khan, contemporary with Catherine II., paid no 
 tribute to her treasury, and considered himself rather an ally 
 than a vassal, only required to supply a cavalry force to her 
 armies. He did this in the first war with Turkey, and a detach- 
 ment took part in the siege of Othakow. Immediately after this 
 campaign, a rupture took place between the Kalmucks and the 
 government, leading to the most extraordinary emigration of 
 modem times. The event has been variously explained, but a 
 combination of causes led to it. Adopting those principles of 
 uniformity in the management of the empire which have since 
 been so characteristic of Russian policy, the Empress, by her 
 agents, innovated upon the usages of the children of the steppes 
 tul Oubacha saw that he must escape from his powerful 
 neighbour, or lose what remained to him of the primitive 
 authority of the Khans. While the Prince felt himself almost 
 reduced to a cipher, the people found themselves under an oppress 
 
THE REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. I35 
 
 sive yoke. Kischenkoi, the Eussian inspector, harassed them, 
 with exactions and spoiled them of their cattle, to satisfy his 
 avarice, adding insult to injury upon complaint being made. 
 After having borne this treatment with quietness, if not with 
 patience, the officer precipitated a revolt by striking a venerable 
 chief who resisted his peculations, and by ordering corporal 
 punishment to be administered to one of the Khan's ministers 
 who remonstrated with him. The indignity inspired Prince and 
 subjects, old and young, men and women, with a common deter- 
 mination to turn their backs on Europe, and seek the borders 
 of China, the territory from which their fathers had migrated, 
 " to come and admire," as they said, " more closely the brilliant 
 lustre of the heavens, and at last to enjoy, like so many others, 
 the happiness of having henceforth for master the greatest prince 
 in the world." 
 
 Carefully concealing the intention, this warlike, pastoral, and 
 nomadic people assembled in the steppes on the left bank of the 
 Volga, and commenced their flight on the 5th of January 1771, 
 the day appointed by the high priests. They took along with 
 them tents, goods, dogs, droves of horses, herds of cattle, and 
 flocks of sheep, and left the country they had occupied a perfect 
 desert. Oubaoha marched with 70,000* hearths or families, 
 numbering at least 300,000 souls ; but 15,000 families were left 
 behind, and remained in Russia, not being able to reach in time 
 the place of rendezvous. The fugitives formed themselves into 
 three great bodies, each with a van and rear-guard, and with the 
 flanks well protected, who constantly kept each other in sight. 
 But long before accomplishing half the journey of 3000 miles, all 
 order was destroyed, and those who reached the Chinese frontier 
 arrived emaciated from want, half naked, and worn out by fatigue 
 and hardship. Thousands were slain in fighting their way 
 through the Cossacks of the Ural and the wild hordes of the 
 Kirghis, their inveterate enemies ; and thousands perished in the 
 inhospitable regions and waterless deserts of their route. After 
 two months' marching, the exhausted hordes encamped on the 
 Irguitch, which falls into Lake Aksakal, to the north of the Sea 
 of Aral. They had then to cross the frightful desert of Chareh 
 Ousoun, where they were exposed to all the torments of thirst, 
 and suffered indescribable disasters, after which they arrived at 
 Lake Palkache Nor, and forced a passage through the country of 
 the Buriats, gaining the Chinese dominions after a journey of 
 eight months. "The wanderers, reduced from 70,000 to 50,000 
 families, were hospitably received by order of the Emperor Kien 
 Long, who caused a stone monument to be erected in commemor- 
 ation of the remarkable event, to which an inscription was 
 appended, in four languages, stating its circumstances, drawn up 
 
136 APPENDIX TO 
 
 by himself. Father Amiot, in the Memoirs of the Jesuits, gives 
 this interesting document at length ; and a lew extracts merit 
 introduction. It is only necessary to observe that the Kalmucks 
 who reached China were chiefly Mongols of the Torgouth tribe. 
 
 " Kecords of the transmigration of the Torgouths, who voluntarily, 
 and of their own full accord, came bodily as a nation, and submitted 
 themselves to the empire of China. 
 
 " Oubacha, who is now Khan of the Torgouths, is great-grandson of 
 Aiouki. The Russians, never ceasing to require soldiers of him, to be 
 incorporated in their troops, having at last taken his own son from him 
 as a hostage, and being, besides, of a different religion from himself, and 
 making no account of that of the Lamas, which the Torgouths profess, 
 Oubacha and his people finally determined to shake off a yoke which 
 was daily becoming more and more insupportable. 
 
 " After having secretly deliberated among themselves, they resolved 
 to quit an abode where they had to suffer so much, and come and 
 dwell in the countries subject to China, where the religion of Fo is 
 professed. 
 
 " In the beginning of the eleventh moon of last year they began 
 their march, with their women and children and all their baggage, 
 traversed the country of the Cossacks, passed along the shores of Lake 
 Palkache Nor and through the adjoining deserts ; and towards the 
 close of the sixth moon of this year, after having completed more than 
 10,000 leagues in the eight months of their wayfaring, they at last 
 arrived on the frontiers of Chara Pen, not far from the banks of the 
 Ily. I was already aware that the Torgouths were on their march to 
 submit themselves to me, the news having been brought me shortly 
 after their departure from Etohil. I then reflected that lletou, General 
 of the troops at Ily, having already been charged with other very im- 
 portant affairs, it was to be feared that he could not regulate those of 
 the new comers with all the requisite attention. 
 
 " Coch^^d^, one of the General's councillors, was at Ouch, employed 
 
 in maintaining order among the Mahommedans. As he was at hand to 
 
 attend to the Torgouths, I ordered him to repair to Ily, that he might 
 
 use his best efforts to establish them solidly. 
 
 ****** 
 
 " The Torgouths arrived, and at once found lodging, food, and all 
 the conveniences they could have enjoyed each in his own dwelling. 
 Nor was this all ; the principal men among them, who were to come 
 in person and pay homage to me, were conducted with honour and free 
 of expense by the imperial post-roads to the place where I then was. 
 I saw them, spoke to them, and was pleased that they should enjoy 
 the pleasures of the chase with me ; and after the days allotted to that 
 recreation were ended, they repaired in my suite to Ge Ho. There I 
 gave them the banqnet of ceremony. 
 
 ' ' Who would have said it ! When I had the least reason to expect 
 it — when I was not even thinking of it — that branch of the Eleuths 
 which had been the first to separate from the trunk, the Torgouths 
 
THE REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 137 
 
 who had voluntarily expatriated themselves to live under an alien and 
 remote dominion, those very Torgouths came of themselves and sub- 
 mitted to me of their own free will ; and it was at Ge Ho, near the 
 venerable spot where rest the ashes of my grandfather Kang Hi, that 
 I had the unsought opportunity of solemnly admitting them among 
 the number of my subjects. 
 
 **♦**♦ 
 
 "The Torgouths came ; I received them ; they wanted even the 
 commonest necessaries of life ; I provided them with everything 
 abundantly ; I opened for them my granaries and my coffers, my stalls 
 and my studs. Out of the former I bestowed on them what was re- 
 quisite for their present wants ; from the latter I desired that they 
 should be supplied with the means of providing for themselves in time 
 to come. I entrusted the management of this important affair to those 
 of my grandees whose disinterestedness and enlightenment were already 
 known to me. I hope and trust that everything will be done to the 
 entire satisfaction of the Torgouths. It is needless to say more in this 
 place. My intention has only been to give a summary of what has 
 come to pass." 
 
 Two days elapsed before tLe Kussians were aware of this extra- 
 ordinary elopement. Three regiments were immediately sent off 
 in pursuit, and orders were given for a larger corps to follow, as 
 soon as the escapade was known at St. Petersburg. They captvired 
 and brought back straggling parties, but never came up with the 
 main body, while the pursuers were dreadfully reduced in numbers 
 by privation in the useless expedition. The ministers of Catherine 
 Bent a memorial to China, demanding the restitution of the 
 fugitives, but to no purpose. The Supreme Tribunal of Pekin re- 
 plied by stating that "Their sovereign was not a prince so unjust 
 as to deliver up his subjects to foreigners, nor so cruel a father as 
 to drive away children who returned to the bosom of their family ; 
 that he had no intimation of the design of the Kalmucks till 
 the moment of their arrival ; and that then without delay he 
 caused to be restored to them the habitations that had belonged to 
 them from time immemorial ; that, in short, the Empress had no 
 reason to complain of the Kalmucks, but certainly of the officer 
 who had dared to lift his hand against a servant of the Khan's, 
 and to order his minister to undergo the battogues." The letter 
 was subscribed • — " In the 36th year, the 'Zth month, and the 
 13th day of the reign of Kien Long." This was not the only curt 
 reply which the Empress received from the same quarter. Upon 
 sending an envoy to propose a new treaty of commerce, he re- 
 ceived for his answer : — " Let your mistress learn to keep old 
 treaties, and then it will be time enough to apply for new ones." 
 China narrowly escaped a grand conflict with Russia, for it was 
 one of Potemkin's projects to take possession of the valley of the 
 Amour, march upon Pekin, and overthrow the dynasty of the 
 
138 APPENDIX TO REVOLT OF THE TARTARS. 
 
 Mantchoos. Preparations were made for this enterprise at Ner- 
 shinsk ; and it would have been attempted but for his death at 
 the juncture. 
 
 The Kalmucks who remained in Russia after the flight of their 
 brethren, 15,000 families, were brought under the direct control 
 of the government. Their descendants at present are not supposed 
 to have increased in number, owing to contagious and epidemic 
 diseases, with greater facilities for drinking ardent spirits. They 
 stiU retain the habits and religion of their forefathers, wander, 
 over the steppes with droves, herds, and flocks, though within 
 restricted limits, and preserve intact the physiognomy of Asia. 
 Keen-sighted, like all inhabitants of vast plains, they can dis- 
 tinguish an hour after sunset a camel at the distance of miles ; 
 with sharp hearing, they catch the sound of a footfall at an equal 
 remoteness, and roam with extraordinary facility the pathless 
 wilderness, without any apparent mark to guide them, yet never 
 missing the right course. Great efforts have been made for their 
 conversion from Buddhism by the Moravians, who came to settle 
 in the empire in consequence of Catherine's invitation to foreign 
 colonists, founded Sarepta near the great bend of the Volga, and 
 had chiefly the evangelisation of these tribes in view. At the 
 time of the flight, they had been little more than twelve months 
 in their new home, and would infallibly have been carried along 
 with the fugitives, as a safeguard against intelligence transpiring, 
 but for the unusual mildness of the winter, which kept the river 
 open and flooded, preventing the Kalmucks in their neighbour- 
 hood from joining the great horde. The design for which the 
 colony was established has been completely frustrated, since no 
 conversions are now allowed in the empire except those in favour 
 of the dominant church ; pp. 465-78. 
 
NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 I. THE GLORY OF MOTION. 
 
 1. Matriculated, was enrolled as a student. This ceremony 
 at Oxford consists in appearing before the Vice-Chancellor of 
 the University, answering a few questions as to the college you 
 intend to join, your family, &c., paying certain fees, and receiv- 
 iug a slip of blue paper informing you that you are " in Mcdriculam 
 Universitatis receptus," i.e. admitted on to the register of the 
 University. 
 
 De Quincey became a commoner of Worcester College in 
 1803. 
 
 2. Mr Palmer. In 1 784 Mr John Palmer of Bath, at the time 
 manager and proprietor of a theatre in Bath, induced Mr Pitt, 
 then Prime Minister, to look with favour on his scheme for 
 running royal mail coaches with armed guards. From the 
 first his scheme for conveying the mails with greater speed and 
 safety was successful. On 8th August 1784, the day of the 
 introduction of the new system, Mr Palmer was made Comp- 
 troller-General of the Post Office, on a salary of ^1500 a year. 
 He afterwards became M.P. for Bath. De Quincey has confused, 
 Mr Masson thinks, this Mr Palmer with Mr Charles Palmer of 
 Lockley Park, Berks, who married Lady Madeline Gordon, 
 daughter of the fourth Duke of Gordon. 
 
 4. Cheap they may be held, little they may be thought of. 
 
 5. Eccentric people in comets. De Quincey here uses " eccen- 
 tric" humorously. Necessarily people who live "in comets," 
 the motions of which are extremely eccentric or unusual, must 
 themselves be eccentric or odd. 
 
 7. Galileo, the great astronomer, mathematician, and natural 
 philosopher. He was bom at Pisa in 1564. Visited by Milton 
 in 1639. Died in January 1642. 
 
 8. Invent. Purposely used instead of the correct word 
 " discover." The words in parenthesis, " or, which is the same 
 
I40 NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH 
 
 thing, discover," were inserted in the edition of 1854 apparently 
 to afford De Quincey the opportunity for his note. 
 
 15. Anarchies, wild confusion. 
 
 16. Agency. To "accomplish an agency" is a most unusual 
 phrase. " Agency " = operation, or work. 
 
 17. Velocity at that time unprecedented. See line 1359. 
 
 21. The class of horses, implying that the horses used for the 
 mail coaches were very fine animals. 
 
 22. A central intellect, a mind which sat, metaphorically 
 speaking, in the centre and controlled the whole system. 
 
 25. National result. Compare the following passage from De 
 Quincey's Autobiography : — " Conceive a state of communication 
 between the centre and the extremities of a great people, kept up 
 with a uniformity of reciprocation so exquisite as to imitate the 
 flowing and ebbing of the sea, or the systole and diastole of the 
 human heart ; day and night, waking and sleeping, not succeed- 
 ing to each other with more absolute certainty than the acts of 
 the metropolis and the controlling notice of the provinces, 
 whether in the way of support or of resistance. Action and 
 reaction from every point of the compass being thus perfect and 
 instantaneous, we should then first begin to understand in a 
 practical sense what is meant by the unity of a political body, 
 and we should approach to a more adequate appreciation of the 
 powers which are latent in organisation. For it must be consi- 
 dered that hitherto, under the most complex organisation, and 
 that which has best attained its purposes, the national will has 
 never been able to express itself upon one in a thousand of the 
 public acts, simply because the national voice was lost in the 
 distance, and could not collect itself through the time and the 
 space rapidly enough to connect itself immediately with the 
 evanescent matters of the moment. Bvit as the system of inter- 
 course is gradually expanding, these bars of space and time are in 
 the same degree contracting, until finally we may expect them 
 altogether to vanish, and then every part of the empire will react 
 upon the whole with the power, life, and effect of immediate con- 
 ference amongst parties brought face to face. Then first will be 
 seen a political system truly organic — i.e. in which each acts upon 
 all, and all react upon each ; and a new earth will arise from the 
 indirect agency of this merely physical revolution. — Masson's 
 Collected Writings of Thomas De Quincey, vol. i. p. 270. 
 
 26. As by some mighty orchestra. The perfect accord with 
 which all parts of the mail service, as directed by Mr Palmer, 
 worked, De Quincey compares to the harmony which the central 
 guiding mind and baton of the conductor of an orchestra pro- 
 duces from a great number of instruments, played by as many 
 different people. 
 
NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. ii,i 
 
 • 26. Orchestra. In the Greek theatre this was the place in 
 which the chorus daTiced (from orcheomod, I dance). It now 
 means either the part of the theatre arranged for the musicians, 
 or, as in the text, the body of musicians themselves. 
 
 34. T37Tannises over my dreams. See Dreamh Fugue. 
 
 35. Awful political mission. We may note here De Quincey's 
 fondness for epithets, such as "awful." They indicate the 
 distinct tendency of his mind to find an exceptional significance 
 in things which to most people are commonplace enough*. 
 
 37. Apocalyptic vials. ^e& Revelation xvi. : — "And I heard a 
 great voice out of the temple saying to the seven angels, Go 
 your ways, and pour out the vials of the wrath of God upon the 
 earth." The comparison of the distribution of the "heartshaking," 
 but good news of the various victories to the pouring out of vials 
 of God's wrath does not seem an appropriate one. 
 
 38. Trafalgar. Fought on 21st October 1805, by Admiral 
 Lord Nelson, against the combined fleets of France and Spain 
 under Admiral Villeneuve. Trafalg&r (accent on the last 
 syllable) is a promontory on the south-west coast of Spain, 
 about 30 miles north-west of Tarifa, on the Strait of Gibraltar. 
 The naval power of France was for the time utterly broken, and 
 Napoleon had to abandon his intention of invading England. 
 
 38. Salamanca. One of the great battles of the Peninsular 
 War. In it Marshal Marmont, one of Napoleon's generals, was 
 defeated by Lord Wellington on 22nd July 1812. It led to the 
 recapture of Madrid. 
 
 38. Vittoria. The last and most decisive battle of the Penin- 
 sular War, 21st June 1813. In it the Anglo-Spanish army under 
 Wellington, utterly defeated the French under Joseph Buonoparte 
 and Marshal Jourdan. The French lost all their artillery, 
 ammunition, and baggage, and were expelled from the soil of 
 Spain. 
 
 38. Waterloo. Fought on 18th June 1815. In this battle, one 
 of the bloodiest and most important ever fought, the English 
 and Prussians each lost about 7000 men, the Belgians and other 
 allies another 7000, while the French are estimated to have lost 
 not fewer than 30,000 men. The result was the overthrow of 
 Napoleon, and his confinement till death in the island of 
 St Helena. 
 
 39. The grandeur of their reaping, etc. Great results followed 
 from each of these battles, but " the blood and tears " they cost 
 were terrible indeed. Few were the households in England, 
 France, Germany, Italy, Austria, Spain, and Belgium that had 
 not to mourn for some dear one, but among the nations there 
 was joy at the overthrow of Napoleon, whereby the "destinies " 
 of Christendom were made safe. 
 
142 NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 45. Gladiatorial trials. De Quincey elsewhere writes tHus on 
 the subject of battles : — " A battle is by possibility the grandest 
 and also the meanest of human exploits. It is the grandest when 
 it is fought for God-Kke truth, for human dignity, or for human 
 rights ; it is the meanest when it is fought for petty advantages 
 (as, by way of example, for accession of territory which adds 
 nothing to the security of a frontier), and still more when it is 
 fought as a gladiator's trial of national prowess. This is the 
 principle upon which, very naturally, our British schoolboys 
 value a battle. Painful it is to add, that this is the principle 
 upon which our adult neighbours the French seem to value a 
 battle." — Masson's Gollected Writings of Thomas De Quincey, vol. 
 viii. p. 396. 
 
 46. This stupendous contest. That with Napoleon. 
 
 47. Te Deums. The song of praise called the Te Dewm will be 
 found in the Roman Catholic missal and the English Book of 
 Common Prayer. It is so called because of the opening words 
 " Te Deum laudamus," We praise Thee, God. 
 
 48. 9. A crisis of general prostration. The whole of Europe 
 had been ground under the heel of Napoleon for nearly a quarter 
 of a century previous to March 1814, when the allies entered 
 Paris and compelled Napoleon to abdicate for the time. Europe 
 had no peace until Napoleon's final defeat at Waterloo. Seas of 
 blood had been shed, the people were everywhere impoverished, 
 trade depressed, and men's minds throwQ into a state of 
 despondency. In November 1806 Napoleon had fulminated 
 certain decrees against England, which he hoped would utterly 
 ruin her trade. He "declared the British Isles in a state of 
 blockade, interdicted all trade or intercourse with England 
 under heavy penalties, confiscated all merchandise and property 
 of every kindT belonging to British subjects, aud prohibited any 
 vessel coming from Britain or her colonies, or which had 
 touched at any English port, from entering the harbours of 
 France." Napoleon's " continental system," as it was styled, was 
 ere long discovered to be impracticable. This was all put an 
 end to by Waterloo. 
 
 57. In early manhood. The usual age for entering the 
 University of Oxford is from 18 to 20. 
 
 58. One single college, as at Edinburgh, Dublin, the German 
 and American Universities. 
 
 59. Five and twenty. According to De Quinoey's own show- 
 ing in his Autobiography, pp. 23, 24 of Masson's edition, vol. ii., 
 there were only twenty-four, including the five Halls. In 
 connection with the text, pp. 15-34 of De Quincey's Auto- 
 biography, vol. ii. of Masson's edition, should be read. 
 
 60. Elite. Frertoh for " chosen," " select," or, as we say, the pick. 
 
NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 143 
 
 62. To keep . . . terms. This is done by residing in Oxford 
 during term-time. The rules are now much stricter than they 
 seem to have been in De Quincey's days. At least eighteen 
 weeks' residence is required in the year. All four terms must be 
 kept, but the Easter and Act Terms go together, and a six weeks' 
 residence for the two is required. 
 
 63. Michaelmas, Lent, and Easter. Michaelmas is the Boman 
 Catholic festival of St Michael, which falls on September 29th. 
 Lent and Easter are well-known holy seasons of all Christian 
 churches. The terms bearing these names begin with the first 
 day on which these seasons fall. 
 
 64. Act is another name for Trinity term. " In the Univer- 
 sities, a thesis publicly maintained by a candidate for a degree, 
 or to show a student's proficiency." 
 
 At Oxford, the Act took place early in July. The graduates 
 kept Acts, or discussed theses, on Saturday and Monday ; on the 
 Intervening Act Sunday, two of the new Doctors of Divinity 
 preached Act sermons before the University. The Act was last 
 held, after long interruptions, in 1733 ; in 1856 the name, with 
 all that related to the ceremony, was removed from the statute- 
 book, and only survives in the appellation Act Term, sometimes 
 given to Trinity Term. At Cambridge the name is still given 
 to the thesis and accompanying examinations required for the 
 obtainment of the doctor's degree in Divinity, Law, and 
 Medicine. 
 
 67. Going down. It is always " up " to Oxford, and " down " 
 to all other towns and cities. 
 
 79. Bye-laws. This is a common, but at the same time an in- 
 correct way of spelling the word " by-law." See Skeat's Etym. 
 Diet. 
 
 80. Posting-houses, inns or public-houses at which relays of 
 horses for coaches or carriages could be obtained. With the 
 introduction of railways " posting-houses " have almost entirely 
 died out. Many of the inns still exist, but they no longer keep 
 horses for " posting " purposes. " Posting, in this sense, means a 
 stage of a journey — at every new stage or ^osi-house fresh horses 
 were employed, called technically "relays." De Quincey's 
 picture of a " posting-house " in the olden days (Autobiography, 
 vol. i. p. 279 ed. Masson) is worth giving here : — " Bad as were 
 the roads, and defective as were all the arrangements, still you 
 had these advantages : no town so insignificant, no posting-house 
 so solitary, but that at all seasons, except a contested election, it 
 could furnish horses without delay, and without license to dis- 
 tress the neighbouring farmers. 
 
 " On the worst road and on a winter's day, with no more than a 
 single pair of horses, you generally made out sixty miles ; even 
 
144 NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAII^COACH. 
 
 if it were necessary to travel tlirough the night, you could continue 
 to make way, although more slowly ; and finally, if you were of 
 a temper to brook delay, and did not exact from all persons the 
 haste or energy of Hotspurs, the whole system in those days 
 was full of respectability and luxurious ease, and well fitted to 
 renew the image of the home you had left, if not in its elegancies, 
 yet in all its substantial comforts. What cosy old parlours in 
 those days ! low-roofed, glowing with ample iires, and fenced 
 from the blasts of doors by screens, whose foldings were, or seemed 
 to be, infinite ! What motherly landladies ! won, how readily, 
 to kindness the most lavish, by the mere attractions of simplicity 
 and youthful innocence, and finding so much interest in the 
 bare circumstance of being a traveller at a childish age ! Then 
 what blooming young handmaidens ! how different from the 
 knowing and worldly demireps of modern high-roads. And 
 sometimes gray-headed, faithful waiters, how sincere and how 
 attentive, by comparison with their flippant successors, the 
 eternal ' Coming, Sir, coming,' of our improved generation." 
 
 86,7. An old tradition . . . derived from the r«ign of Charles 11., 
 because no passengers sat outside in that reign. The outside was 
 probably first used for servants, and seats were afterwards pro- 
 vided for the poorer classes of the public at rates much below 
 what would be charged for inside places. 
 
 88. Quaternion, set of four persons. The Latin word 
 " quaternio " is used in the Vulgate New Testament (Acts xii. 4), 
 to mean a file of four soldiers. 
 
 89. Porcelain variety of the human race. Not made of common 
 clay, mere "delf-ware," like ordinary mortals, but of a very 
 superfine kind, such as porcelain is made of. "Porcelain" is 
 so called from the Italian forcenawi,, the Venus' shell, which 
 porcelain resembles in transparency. "Delf-ware," a common 
 kind of earthenware made at Delft in Holland. 
 
 92. Attaint, to infect, poison. A fuller form of "taint." 
 
 96, 7. All three outsides. There was apparently on the old 
 coaches only room for three outside passengers. 
 
 97. Pariahs, a very favourite word with De Quincey, who 
 uses it to mean " social outcast," as most Anglo-Indians do ; 
 wrongly, however. " Pariah" is the name of a very low, but not 
 the lowest caste of Hindus in Southern India. " From their 
 coming into contact with, and under the observation of Europeans 
 more habitually than any similar class, the name Pariah has 
 come to be regarded as applicable to the whole body of the lowest 
 castes, or even to denote outcasts, or people without any caste. 
 Bat this is hardly a correct use. There are several castes in the 
 Tamil country considered to be lower than the Pariahs, e.g. the 
 caste of shoemakers and the lowest caste of washermen. And 
 
NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 145 
 
 the Pariah deals out the same disparaging treatment to these that 
 he himself receives from higher castes" (Yule and Bumell's 
 Athglo-Indian Olosswry). 
 
 104. Delirium tremens, a madness due to the use of strong 
 drink, and marked by trembling or convulsive symptoms. 
 
 112. Salle-a-manger, French for "dining-room." 
 
 124. Objects not appearing, etc. A free translation of the Latin 
 legal saying, " De non apparentibus et non existentibus eadem est 
 ratio." 
 
 130. Questionable characters, people of doubtful reputation. 
 Cf., " Thou comest in such a questionable shape " (Hamlet, I. iv. 
 43). 
 
 133. " Eaflf." The usual modern term is " riff-raff," meaning 
 " refuse." See Skeat. 
 
 133. " Snobs." See Skeat, who defines a " snob " as " a vulgar 
 person," also " a journeyman shoemaker." The true origin of the 
 word seems doubtful, though Skeat connects it with " snub." 
 " Nobs" is a shortened form of " nobles"; " snobs" are obviously 
 the reverse, so the " s " may be privative. 
 
 134. Constructively. A legal term, nieaning " inferentially," 
 since we occupied that place on the coach which was only made 
 use of, as a rule, by the poorer and lower classes. See below, 
 line 189, " constructively present," and line 361. 
 
 135-8. If we did not submit, etc., pit or gallery, the cheapest 
 parts of a theatre. 
 
 140. The boxes, expensive private seats in a theatre, usually 
 secured by booking beforehand. 
 
 146. In the price, the cost of the seat, its relative cheapness ; 
 but the " outside " of a coach was not valued by the Oxonians on 
 account of its cheapness, but for " the air, the freedom," &c. 
 
 158-9. Metaphysical principles, i.e. we conducted the enquiry 
 so as to discover the real nature of things (things-in-themselves) 
 not the appearances of things (^heno7nena)—:hut, of course, De 
 Quincey is merely joking. 
 
 162. The box. The box-seat, i.e. the front seat, next to the 
 driver. 
 
 167. Great wits jump, a proverbial phrase, meaning "men of 
 great minds arrive independently at the same conclusions," 
 This use of "jump " = " agree " is Shakespearian. Cf. : — 
 
 "I ■will not choose what many men desire, 
 Because I will -not jump with common spirits, 
 And rank me with the barbarous multitude." 
 
 —Merchant of Vemice, II. ix. 31. 
 
 168. The celestial intellect. According to the Chinese them- 
 selves, China is the Celestial Land, and the Chinese are conse- 
 quently styled, ironically, " the celestials." 
 
 K 
 
146 NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 169. Our first embassy, that of Lord Macartney. 
 
 170. A state coach. The story that follows is, says Masson, 
 " a caricature of a story told in Staunton's account of the Earl of 
 Macartney's embassy to China in 1792." 
 
 175. Diplomatic whisper, a low, confidential tone, as if it 
 were a state secret. 
 
 178, 9. Hammercloth, the cloth covering the hox-seat of a 
 state coach. The derivation of the word is doubtful. 
 
 181. To the moon. The moon is held in special reverence by 
 the Chinese. 
 
 183. For the scoundrel who drove, as to the wretched menial 
 who had to drive the coach. 
 
 189. In = among. 
 
 189. Flowery people. China is commonly designated " the 
 Flowery Land." 
 
 197. Extempore, pronounced tx-Um-^o-rh. 
 
 203. The check strings, strings meant to be attached to the 
 arms of the coachmen to stop or guide him, but made use of in 
 this instance to lengthen the reins ! 
 
 203. Jury-reins. "Jury" is a nautical term applied to 
 temporary masts, when a ship has been dismasted in a storm. 
 Probably short for an " injury mast," i.e. a mast set up instead 
 of one lost by "mjury," hence a temporary mast. <7Mri/-reins= 
 temporary or supplementary reins. 
 
 211. The god Fo Fo. There was, of course, no such god, but 
 there was a religious enthusiast of this name who founded a 
 Chinese sect about the year B.C. 200. 
 
 213. That era, the time of De Quincey's residence in Oxford. 
 
 214. A perfect French Revolution, an utter subversion of the 
 existing state of things, just as the French Revolution of 1789 
 utterly subverted the French monarchical regime. 
 
 215. Qa ira. French for " it will go," meaning it will succeed. 
 The words Ah ! pa ira, ga ira, fa ira I Malgr^ les mutins, tout 
 r^usdra, — i.e. 'Twill proceed, 'twill proceed, proceed ; in spite of 
 mutineers, all will succeed, — are from the refrain of Le Carillon 
 National. The revolutionary carillon of France, (^a ira, was com- 
 posed by an itinerant musician, who took the refrain from a mot 
 of Franklin on the Revolution, Qa ira, fa tiendra. — Cassagnac, 
 History of the Girondists, i. 373. 
 
 218. Affecting the chief seats, having a liking for the most 
 prominent places. The allusion is to the Gospel of St Matthew, 
 xxiii. 6. 
 
 220. Our disagreeable friend, the " public " personage. 
 
 222. The public, the ordinary mass of those who now hankered 
 after the outside seats. 
 
 226. Warming-pans. Just as " warming-pans " are, in Europe, 
 
NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 147 
 
 often put into beds to keep them warm till the persons who are 
 to occupy the beds appear, so horsekeepers and others not going 
 by the coach were hired to keep the box-seat ready for the real 
 purchaser of the seat, until he should appear. 
 
 229. Aristotle, Zeno, Cicero, all philosophic writers on ethical 
 subjects. 
 
 229. Zeno's. This was added to the edition of 1854. 
 
 230. Our bribes, etc. Altered from the reading of 1849, which 
 ran thus, " Our bribes being demonstrated out of Euclid to be as 
 five," &c. 
 
 235. Sur-rebribed, bribed agaLa on top of that, i.e. three times 
 over. 
 
 236. The hustings in a contested election, a large platform 
 erected in some square or open place, from which candidates for 
 election as Members of Parliament may address the -voters. 
 Riotous scenes used often to take place round the " hustings." 
 This modern use of the word is, says Skeat, " incorrect ; it is 
 properly husting, sing., and means a council, an assembly for the 
 choice of a candidate." 
 
 237. Ostler, groom; otherwise spelt "hostler." It originally 
 meant the " host " or " innkeeper." 
 
 243. Gipsy prediction, owing to having his fortune told by a 
 gipsy. The " gipsies " or " gypsies " are a wandering people 
 found in most European countries, and (from the great similarity 
 of many words in their language to Hindustani) are supposed 
 to have come originally from India. The word "gypsy" is a 
 shortened form of Egyptian, the name applied to them in the 
 English statute-books. 
 
 248. The British Museum. Note the humorous anticlimax. 
 
 251. Bills at ninety days after date, i.e. promissory -notes made 
 payable to a bank or an individual three months after the date 
 on which they are drawn. The phrase is a technical and com- 
 mercial one. 
 
 252. Noters and protesters, i.e. notaries-public, whose chief 
 duty it is to make legal certification that a bill has fallen due, 
 but that the drawer has failed to pay it at maturity, i.e. on the 
 due date. 
 
 253. The house of life. An astrological term. Astrologers 
 pretend that being born iinder certain stars is the cause of good 
 or bad fortune, and affects us through life. "Astrological 
 shadows" are the misfortunes following our being born under 
 an unlucky star. 
 
 256. Posse. Short for "posse comitatus," which is an old 
 legal term denoting the power of the county, viz., the citizens 
 summoned by a sheriff to render assistance in suppressing riots 
 or other disorders. 
 
148 NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 268. Von Troll's Iceland. In chapter xxxviii. of Boswell's Life 
 of Johnson there is the following passage : — 
 
 "Langton said very well to me, afterwards, that he could 
 repeat Johnson's conversation before dinner, as Johnson had 
 said that he could repeat a complete chapter of the National 
 History of Iceland from the Danish of Horrebow, the whole of 
 which was exactly thus : — 
 
 ' Chapter LXXII. — Concerning Snakes. 
 
 ' There are no snakes to be met with throughout the whole 
 island.' " 
 
 269. A parliamentary rat, that is, a Member of Parliament 
 who had " ratted," or deserted his own party, when he saw he 
 was on the losing side. 
 
 " He " (Stafford) " was the first of the rats, the first of those 
 statesmen whose patriotism has been only the coc[uetry of 
 political prostitution." — Macaulay's Critical and Historical Essays. 
 
 276. Yams. Tales of adventure. 
 
 277, 8. Lsssa majestas, a Latin phrase meaning treason 
 against the sovereign Roman people — then " high treason." 
 
 279. Hinder boot. A " boot " was a place for stowing away 
 luggage and parcels at each end of the coach. The word has 
 nothing to do with leather, but is most probably from the 
 French boite, a "box." The " box " seat is the peat over the front 
 boot. 
 
 281. Letters. There is a play upon the word in its double 
 sense of literature and correspondence. 
 
 287. Hackneyed, common. 
 
 288, 9. Jam proximus . . . TTcalegon. Virgil, j^n., ii. 312 : — 
 " Now Ucalegon's house next begins to bum." The quotation is 
 from a passage describing the Tjurning of Troy. De Quincey 
 means that perhaps his nearest fellow-passengers — the insides 
 — were taking fire. 
 
 296. Syriac or Coptic, tongues unknown to him. 
 
 298. Ucalegon . . . way-bill. There was no such name as 
 Ucalegon in the list of passengers. 
 
 299. Booked, taken and paid for a seat. 
 
 302. Obvious. The coaches had the royal coat of arms 
 emblazoned on the door panels, and the guards wore scarlet. 
 
 310. Crest, highest point, centre. 
 
 315. The precipitation of their crane-neck quarterings, the 
 hurry with which they whip up their horses and cause them 
 to stretch out their necks like cranes in their efforts to move the 
 heavy waggons out of the way by quartering across the road, i.e. 
 by going off to the side. 
 
NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAH-COACH. 149 
 
 317. Attainder, extinction of civil rights and capacities, which 
 took place whenever a person who had committed treason or 
 felony received judgment of death or outlawry. The "attaint" 
 clung to the family for generations, until removed. 
 
 318. His Wood is attainted, etc. A feeble addition to the joke, 
 meaning, so great is the crime of each individual carter that his 
 family will suffer for it through six generations. 
 
 321. Within benefit of clergy. In pre-Reformation times 
 the clergy were exempted from trial by civil courts. This 
 was called " benefit of clergy." It arose in the regard paid by 
 Christian princes to the Church, and consisted of (1) — an exemp- 
 tion of places consecrated to religious duties from criminal 
 arrests, which was the foundation of sanctuaries ; (2) exemption 
 of the persons of clergymen from criminal process before the 
 secular judge, in particular cases, which was the original meaning 
 of the priviUgiwm clerieale. The benefit of clergy was next ex- 
 tended to everyone who could read ; and afterwards to everyone 
 whether they could read or not. After the Reformation, " benefit 
 of clergy " only survived as a legal fiction. It was finally abol- 
 ished in the reign of George IV. 
 
 323. Systole and diastole. These are the great respirations : 
 the systoli is the contraction of the heart and its great blood- 
 vessels, by which the circulation is kept up and the blood forced 
 to the extremities ; the diastoU is the dilatation of the heart, 
 permitting the blood to flow back again. See quotation to note 
 on line 25. 
 
 329. Doubts ... as to our powers. Sec line 300. 
 
 331. Quarter Sessions, courts of justice held four times a 
 year in counties and large towns. First established in the reign 
 of Edward III. 
 
 332. The collective mail, the whole mail-coach system. 
 
 336. Potential station, a place of power, or which might be 
 supposed to possess power. 
 
 340. Frisky, fuU of liveliness. A differentiated form of 
 "fresh," German frisch, Danish f risk, A.B.ferse, which originally 
 meant " moving." 
 
 344. To represent the conscience, etc. The coachman and guard 
 represented its power and authority, i.e. its physical qualities. 
 
 349. False echoes of Marengo. See the footnote by De Quincey 
 in the text. At Marengo the French army, commanded by 
 Buonaparte, attacked the Austrians 14th June 1800. His army 
 was retreating when the arrival of General Dessaix turned the 
 fortunes of the day. The slaughter on both sides was dreadful. 
 
 [Footnotes.— The Vengewr. The story of the Vengeur is a well-known 
 literary curiosity. In Cavlyle's Frmch Revolution (1st edn.) he thus de- 
 scribed the sinking of the ship :— " But how is it, then, with that Vengeur 
 
ISO NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 ship ? she neither strikes nor makes off ? She is lamed, she cannot make off ; 
 strike she will not. Fire rakes her fore and aft from victorious enemies ; 
 the Vengeur is sinking. Strong are ye Tyrants of the sea ; yet we also, 
 are we weak ? Lo ! all flags, streamers, jacks, every ray of tricolor that 
 will yet run on rope fly rustling aloft : the whole crew crowds to the upper 
 deck, and with universal, soul-maddening yell shouts Vive la, R^pubUgue 
 — sinking, sinking. She staggers, she lurches, her last drunk whirl : 
 Ocean yawns abysmal : down rushes the Vengewr, carrying Viae la 
 JUpvMique along with her, unconquerable, into eternity. " 
 
 Subsequently, Admiral Griffiths, who was present at the battle, wrote 
 to a newspaper, pointing out tliat the whole thing was a French fabrication, 
 fathered by that prince of liars Barrfere (see Maoaulay's Ba/rrire). Carlyle 
 thereupon went thoroughly into the matter, and wrote an essay entitled 
 "The Sinking of the Vengeur." His closing words are, "I, having once 
 been led to assert the fable hold myself bound, on all fit occasions, to 
 unassert it with equal emphasis. Till it please to disappear altogether 
 from the world as it ought to do, let it lie, as a copper slulling, nailed to 
 the counter, and seen by all customers to be copper." 
 
 La garde meurt, etc. The guard (Napoleon s celebrated regiment called 
 the "Old Guard ") dies, but surrenders not. The only authority for this 
 is General Cambronne, and De Quinoey regards it as a mere French fiction. 
 
 Talleyrand. An eminent French statesman and diplomatist, born 1754, 
 and died 1838. Many bon inots and witticisms— though he was undoubt- 
 edly the wittiest man of his time — have been falsely attributed to him.] 
 
 351. Tied to, restricted to. 
 
 358. A fortiori, with stronger reason. The well-known Latin 
 phrase, so familiar in " Euclid," used to clinch an argument. 
 
 361. Feudal powers, i.e. ancient powers wliich had come down 
 from the Middle Ages. 
 
 364. Shrewsbury, the county town of Shropshire, on the 
 Severn, about 38 miles south of Chester. 
 
 364. Oswestry, another town in Shropshire, some 15 miles 
 from Shrewsbury. 
 
 364. A tawdiy thing. Some miserable coach, painted and 
 decorated in a tawdry or showy manner. "Tawdry" was 
 formerly used in the phrase tawdry lace, which was lace bought 
 at St. Audr/s fair, held in the Isle of Ely (and elsewhere) on 
 St. Audry's day, Oct. 17th. 
 
 364. Thing. Contemptuously used. See Shakespeare's Win- 
 ter's Tale, Act II. i. 
 
 365. Some " Tallyho " or " High-flyer.". A coach, called by one of 
 these names — probably to indicate that it was a very fast goer. 
 It was a common thing to give names to coaches, a custom which 
 has come down to this day, and has been transferred to the 
 successors of the old coach — the modern railway engine. Most 
 people in England are familiar with the engine named the 
 "Flying Dutchman," "The Scotchman," &c. 
 
 370. As modest as, etc. A slightly inaccurate sentence. Better 
 " as modest as those of a signet-ring to," &c. 
 
NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 151 
 
 373. The beast from Birmingham. A climax : first it was " a 
 tawdry thimg," then " a plebeian wretch," now it has become " a 
 heast from Birmingham." 
 
 374. False, fleeting, perjured. De Quincey was deeply read in 
 Shakespeare and Milton, and what may be called buried quotations 
 are often found in his writings. These words are from Richard 
 TIL, Act I., iv. 45, where they are applied to Clarence. 
 
 . 375. Brummagem, a contemptuous name for Birmingham. 
 Any piece of jewellery of which the value is doubtful — a a^^m- 
 ingly 90^^ chain, for instance, of copper gilt — is called Brumma- 
 gem ware, because Birmingham was and is celebrated for the 
 manufacture of " gilt toys, cheap jewelry, imitation gems, mosaic 
 gold, and such small deer." Compare "tawdry" above. De 
 Quincey, in his Autobiography, vol. ii. 172 (Masson's edition), 
 speaks of Klopstock as the Birmingham Milton. In his Auto- 
 biography De Quincey says — " For you know, men of Birmingham, 
 that you can counterfeit — such is your cleverness — all things in 
 heaven and earth, from Jove's thunderbolts down to tailors' 
 bodkins." — Vol. i. p. 268 (Masson). 
 
 377. Luxor, or ELUksur. Ancient Thebes in Egypt. The 
 '.' tombs of Luxor" became celebrated and were much visited in 
 modern times after Belzoni's explorations in 1817. 
 
 Thebes was the capital, for a long time, o£ the whole 
 country. It stood on both banks of the Nile, and was at the 
 height of its splendour about 1600 B.C. By the Greek writers it 
 is said to have been 14 miles in circuit, and by Homer it is 
 described as having a hundred gates, from each of which-it could 
 send out two hundred war chariots. The city was to a large 
 extent destroyed by Oambyses at the Persian conquest (525 B.C.). 
 It was deprived of its small remaining importance at the 
 foundation of Alexandria (332 B.C.). Its existing ruins are per- 
 haps the most magnificent in the world, inclosing within their 
 circuit the four modern villages of Carnac, Luxor, Medinet Abou, 
 and Goumou, and extending for about six miles from side to side 
 -of the valley of the Nile. 
 
 379. Sufficiently Jacobinical. The Jacobins were the members 
 of a political club formed in the early stage of the French 
 Revolution. It represented the extreme party ; hence the word 
 Jacobin was extended to include all persons who held ultra- 
 radical political opinions. 
 
 388. He sprang. To "spring" horses when driving them with 
 a tight rein, is to suddenly give them their heads and let them 
 spring forth at full speed. 
 
 393, 4. A tower of strength . . . King's name, etc. Another 
 quotation from Bicha/rd, III., Act V. iii. — 
 
 " Besides, the king's name is a tower of strength, 
 Which they upon the adverse faction want." 
 
152 NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 403. My heart bums within me. A commonly used phrase, of 
 biblical origin. See the Gospel of St Luke xxiv. 32. 
 
 408. A cat might look, etc. A common proverb, meaning that 
 there is no harm in the meanest of creatures merely looking at 
 the greatest. 
 
 416. One of our elder dramatists, Dryden's AureTigzebe. 
 
 418. Omrahs. An Arabic plural (Umara, pi. of Amir). It 
 should be applied collectively to the higher officials at a 
 Mahomedan court, especially that of the Great Mogul. In old 
 European narratives it is used as a singular for a lord or grandee 
 of that court. 
 
 438. Paste diamonds, artificial diamonds, made of a fine kind 
 of glass, called technically " paste." 
 
 438. Roman pearls. These are artificially made pearls, so 
 called because the best are manufactured in Eome, though the 
 Chinese invented the art. 
 
 440, 41. The 6th of Edward Longshanks, etc. This is one of 
 De Quincey's jokes. He is poking fun at the Welshman, by 
 referring to some purely imaginary Act of Parliament passed in 
 the reign of Edward I., who subdued Wales in 1283. 
 
 443. Drily, in a cold and uninterested manner. 
 
 458. This system. The mail-coach system as opposed to the 
 railways. 
 
 459. Magna loquimur. We utter great things, i.e. we boast. 
 
 460. Magna vivimus. We live great things, i.e. we do, we act. 
 447-502. The modem modes of travelling, etc. This passage 
 
 should be closely studied as an excellent example of De 
 Quincey's style. He made some characteristic changes in the 
 wording when he came to edit his papers for the collective 
 edition of 1854. In the Blackwood paper (1849), lines 467-69 
 ran as follows : — " The fiery eyeballs of an animal, in his dilated 
 nostril, spasmodic muscles, and echoing hoofs. [This speed was 
 incarnated in the visible contagion amongst brutes of some 
 impulse that, radiating into their natures, had yet its centre and 
 beginning in man.] The sensibility," &c. 
 
 470. Maniac, wild and fierce, but not exactly in a bad sense. 
 It is a word De Quincey is rather fond of using, in a sense some- 
 what peculiarly his own. See line 1405. 
 
 471. Salamanca. See line 38 and note. 
 
 474. Electric thrillings. The victory of Salamanca was so great 
 that all hearts in England were thrilled, or deeply affected, by 
 the news, and the thrill of joy and exultation was communicated, 
 as by an electric current, to the very horses that drew the 
 mail-coaches. 
 
 479. Nile nor Trafalgar, etc. The construction is peculiar. 
 The omission of " nor " before " Nile " is a poetic usage. 
 
NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 153 
 
 481. The galvanic cycle. The sympathy which united man 
 and his " minister," the horse, as if by an electric current passing 
 to and fro, no longer exists — man's heart is for ever " disconnected 
 from the ministers of his locomotion." 
 
 488. Culinary process. By boiling water and the resultant 
 steam, much used in cookery. "Culinary," pertaining to the 
 kitchen. Lat. culina, a kitchen. 
 
 493. Pot-wallopings. The noise of the bubbling boiling-water, 
 to which the galloping of a horse has a sort of resemblance. 
 "Qallop" is from the old French galoper, old Flemish lualop. 
 In Middle English the word is spelt galopen and walopen. See 
 Skeat. 
 
 495. Scenical yet natural. Like a beautiful scene, "but natural," 
 Le. not theatrical or unreal. 
 
 495. In great national tidings, on great events affecting the 
 nation being announced, such as a victory or defeat. 
 
 519. Only. The use of this word instead of "alone" causes a 
 slight ambiguity. 
 
 521. Commissions to be executed. People round, knowing her 
 relationship to the driver of the coach, were in the habit of 
 asking her to get him to buy them certain things or to make certain 
 inquiries for them in the large towns through which he drove : 
 these requests are called " commissions." 
 
 535. Brigade. A military term, used jocosely, to signify that 
 Fanny's admirers were numerous enough to form part of an 
 army. 
 
 536. Ulysses, the hero of Homer's Odyssey, and one of the 
 principal heroes of the Trojan War. He was King of Ithaca. 
 After the Trojan War was over, he set out for his home, but 
 fate detained him many long years on his journey. During 
 this time his wife Penelope was pestered with suitors. At length 
 he reached home in the disguise of a beggar, when his wife 
 recognised him through the skill he showed in bending the bow of 
 Ulysses. With the help of his son Telemachus, he slew all the 
 suitors, chiefly with his bow. See Odyssey, Bk. XXII. 
 
 539. Woman is universally aristocratic. Fond of being noticed 
 by men of high rank. 
 559, " Say, all our praises,'' etc. 
 
 " But all our praises why should lords engross, 
 Rise, honest muse, and sing the Man of Ross." 
 
 — Pope, Moral Essays, Ep. iii. 249. 
 
 561. Our roses, etc. In the double sense of rose-flowers and 
 roses in the cheek, beauty. 
 
 564. The fountains of the dawn, from exposure to the fresh 
 morning air. 
 
154 NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 569. Our grandpapa. Note this use of " our," very common in 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 574. Jovian, like that of Jupiter or Jove, the chief of 
 the gods. 
 
 577. Turrets. "A word (not registered in the dictionaries in 
 the sense of the text) for the rings of a horse's harness through 
 which the reins are passed ; so named now, perhaps, from a 
 notion that they stand out from the collar like turrets or little 
 towers from a castle, is in old English toretes or torettes, rings, 
 from Fr. touret, " the ammulet or little ring whereby a Hawkes 
 Lune is fastened unto the Jesses" (Cotgrave), a dimin. of tour 
 or turn, round or circle (Prov. torn), from Lat. tornvs, Greek 
 tornos, a turning-wheel. Compare French tournet, a ring in the 
 mouth of a bit (Cotgrave). 
 
 " About his char ther wenten white alauns, .... 
 Colered with gold and torettes filed round." 
 
 — Chaucer, Cant. Tales, I. 2154. 
 
 " The Ringe [of the Astrolabe] rennith in a manner of a turet. — 
 Treatise of Astrolabe " [Tyrwhitt in loc. cit.]. 
 
 " A collar with torrettes and pendauntes of silver and 
 
 guilte."— -Warton, Hist, of Eng. Poetry, p. 240 (repr. 1870). 
 
 [Footnote. — As Masson points out, De Quinoey, for once, is wrong. 
 Chaucer in the lines quoted above, which De Quincey had In mind, does 
 not refer to horse-trappings.] 
 
 589. They hanged liberally. In his Constitutional History 
 Erskine May tells us that between the years 1810 and 1845 up- 
 wards of 1400 persons suffered death for crimes which at the present 
 day do not constitute capital offences. Men could be and were 
 hanged for forgery, pocket-picking, sheep-stealing, horse-stealing, 
 and many other similar offences. Gradually, however, the criminal 
 law was reformed. In 1808 Sir Samuel Eomilly brought in a bill 
 for the remission of capital punishment in the cases of pick- 
 pockets ; and between the years of 1824 and 1832, chiefly owing 
 to the exertions of Sir Robert Peel, Lord Auckland, and Mr 
 Ewart, forgery, offences connected with the coinage, sheep- 
 stealing, and other similar breaches of the law, were erased 
 from the list of capital offences. A year or two later Mr Ewart 
 brought in a biU before the Criminal Law Commission " for 
 limiting the punishment of death to the single crime of murder. 
 This proposal was then lost by a majority of one, but has since, 
 by successive measures, been accepted by the legislature — murder 
 alone and exceptional crimes of treason having been reserved for 
 the last penalty of the law" (May's Gonstitutional History, 
 Ch. XVIII.). 
 
 593. The conduct of the affair. De Quincey made considerable 
 
NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAH-COACH. 155 
 
 alterations in the end of this paragraph when revising the. 
 original Blackwood article. After " affair " there was the follow- 
 ing passage : — 
 
 " I have mentioned the case at all for the sake of a dreadful 
 result from it in after years of dreaming. But it seems ex 
 abundanti (equivalent to ' among other things ') to yield this 
 moral, that as in England the idiot and the half-wit are held to 
 be under the guardianship of Chancery, so the man making 
 love, who is often but a variety of the same imbecile class, 
 ought to be made a ward of the General Post-of6ce, whose 
 severe course of timing and periodical interruption might 
 intercept many a foolish declaration, such as lays a solid founda- 
 tion for fifty years' repentance." 
 
 601. Superannuated, out-of-date and neglected. 
 
 602. Mr Waterton. A well-known naturalist, who wrote 
 Wanderings in South Ainerica, published in 1825, about the 
 most famous passage in which is his account of how he rode on 
 a cayman's back. See note on 1. 620 below. Charles Waterton 
 was bom in 1782, and died in 1865. 
 
 603. Cayman. A species of crocodile found in the rivers of 
 South America. 
 
 605. Pharaohs. The ancient rulers of Egypt, just as " the 
 Csesar " meant the Eoman emperor. 
 
 616, Sometimes to worship. Crocodiles were reverenced as 
 divinities by the Egyptians. 
 
 620. Leaping on its back^ booted and spurred. This is only a 
 joke of De Quincey's. Waterton's own account of his adventure 
 is as follows : — 
 
 " By the time the cayman (caught by a shark hook, a large fish, 
 and a strong rope manned by the Indians) was within two yards 
 of me, I saw he was in state of fear and perturbation ; I instantly 
 dropped the mast, sprung up and jumped on his back, turning 
 half round as I vaulted, so that I gained my seat with my face 
 in a right position. I immediately seized his fore-legs, and by 
 main force twisted them on his back ; thus they served me for a 
 bridle. He now seemed to have recovered from his surprise ; and 
 probably fancying himself in hostile company, he begun to plunge 
 furiously, and lashed the sand with his long, powerful tail. I 
 was out of reach of the strokes of it, by being near his head. He 
 continued to plunge and strike, and made my seat very uncomfort- 
 able. It must have been a fine sight for an unoccupied spectator. 
 The people roared out in triumph, and were so vociferous that 
 it was some time before they heard me tell them to pull me and 
 my beast of burden further inland. I was apprehensive the 
 rope might break, and then there would have been every chance 
 of going down to the regions under water with the cayman. 
 
iS6 NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 That would have been more perilous than Arion's marine 
 morning ride. 
 
 Delphine insidens, vada caerula sulcat Arion. 
 
 The people now dragged us above forty yards on the sand. It 
 was the first and last time I was ever on a cayman's back. 
 Should it be asked how I managed to keep my seat, I would 
 answer, I hunted some years with Lord Darlington's fox-hounds." 
 
 624. A fox-hunting. "A" = out. 
 
 626. Hunted, ridden out hunting. 
 
 594-628. The whole of this passage is pure digression. The 
 huge bulk of the coachman, Fanny's grandfather, which pre- 
 vented him from turning rapidly, suggested the crocodile, the 
 crocodile suggested what was then no doubt the current subject of 
 conversation, Mr Waterton's adventure with a crocodile, and 
 this led De Quincey to Egypt, the Pharaohs and the Pyramids. 
 See, however, the Introduction (filory of Motion). 
 
 627. Take. Jump over, like a hunter {i.e. a horse ridden out 
 hunting). 
 
 630. The shadow of the FsTramids grows less. The mere lapse 
 of centuries, not to speak of the stones removed from their sides 
 to build Cairo, has diminished the bulk of the pyramids. 
 
 637. The antiphonies . . . service. The responses — voice 
 answering to voice — in the part of the service in which the choir 
 join. The antiphonies are sung or channted. 
 
 [Footnote. — Sinbad. I The well-known sailor in the AraMan Nights, 
 who, Indnced by the Old Man of the Sea to take him on his hack, makes 
 the old man drunk, when he falls ofF, and Sinhad smashes in his head 
 with a stone.] 
 
 641. A venerable crocodile. As Fanny suggested the rose and 
 its beauty, so Fanny's grandfather suggested the crocodile. 
 
 642. With sixteen capes. Coachmen in England used to 
 wear heavy coats to protect them against the cold and wet, and 
 these coats frequently have several loose capes to protect the 
 shoulders, the back, and chest. De Quincey's visionary crocodile- 
 coachman has the abnormally large number of sixteen capes ! 
 
 643. Four-in-hand. A coach, and a heavy kind of open carriage 
 called a " drag," are usually driven with four horses. To " drive 
 four-in-hand " is to drive the four horses of a coach or modern 
 " drag." The whole turn-out is usually called " a four-in-hand." 
 
 645. A mighty dial. The dial-plate of the clock at the post • 
 office. 
 
 629-661. When De Quincey undertook the revision of 1854, 
 he»entirely recast this passage, which is as follows in the original 
 Blackwood article : — 
 
 " Perhaps, therefore, the crocodile does not change, but all 
 things else do, even the shadow of the Pyramids grows less. And 
 
NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 157 
 
 often tlie restoration in vision of Fanny and the Bati road 
 makes me too pattetically sensible of that truth. Out of the 
 darkness, if I happen to call up the image of Fanny from thirty- 
 five years back, arises suddenly a rose in June, or, if I think for 
 an instant of a rose in June, up rises the heavenly face of Fanny. 
 One after the other, like the antiphonies in a choral service, rises 
 Fanny and the rose in June, then back again the rose in June 
 and Fanny. Then come both together, as in a chorus : roses and 
 Fannies, Fannies and roses, without end — thick as blossoms in 
 paradise. Then conies a venerable crocodile, in a royal livery of 
 scarlet and gold, or in a coat with sixteen capes ; and the croco- 
 dile is driving four-in-hand from the box of the Bath mail. And 
 suddenly we, upon the mail, are pulled up by a mighty dial, 
 sculptured with the hours and with the dreadful legend of Too 
 Late. Then all at once we are arrived in Marlborough Forest, 
 amongst the lovely households of the roedeer : these retire into 
 the dewy thickets ; the thickets are rich with roses ; the roses 
 call up (as cover) the sweet countenance of Fanny, who, being 
 the granddaughter of a crocodile, awakens a dreadful host of 
 wild semi-legendary animals — griffins, dragons, basilisks, 
 sphinxes, — till at length the whole vision of fighting images 
 crowds into one towering armorial shield, a vast emblazonry of 
 human charities and human loveliness that have perished, but 
 quartered heraldicaUy with unutterable horrors of monstrous 
 and demoniac natures ; whilst over all rises, as a surmounting 
 crest, one fair female hand with the fore-finger pointing, in sweet, 
 sorrowful admonition, upwards to heaven, and having power 
 (which, without experience, I never could have believed) to 
 awaken the pathos that kills, in the very bosom of the horrors 
 that madden, the grief that gnaws at the heart, together with the 
 monstrous creations of darkness that shock the belief, and make 
 dizzy the reason of man. This is the peculiarity that I wish the 
 reader to notice as having first been made known to me for a 
 possibility by this early vision of Fanny on the Bath road. 
 The peculiarity consisted in the confluence of two different keys, 
 though apparently repelling each other, into the music and 
 governing principles of the same dream ; horror, such as possesses 
 the maniac ; and yet, by momentary transitions, grief such as may 
 be supposed to possess the dying mother when leaving her infant 
 children to the mercies of the cruel. Usually, and perhaps 
 always in an unshaken nervous system, these two modes of misery 
 exclude each other — here first they met in horrid reconciliation. 
 There was always a separate peculiarity in the quality of *he 
 horror. This was afterwards developed into far more revolting 
 complexities of misery and incomprehensible darkness ; and 
 perhaps I am wrong in ascribing any value as a causative agency 
 
158 NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 to this particular case on the Bath road — possibly it furnished 
 merely an occasion that accidentally introduced a mode of horrors 
 certain, at any rate, to have grow up with or without the Bath 
 road, from more advanced stages of the nervous derangement. 
 Yet, as the cubs of tigers or leopards, when domesticated, have 
 been observed to suffer a sudden development of their latent 
 ferocity under too eager an appeal to their playfulness — the 
 gaieties of sport in them being too closely connected with the fiery 
 brightness of their murderous instincts — so I have remarked that 
 the caprices, the gay arabesques and the lively floral luxuriations 
 of dreams, betray a shocking tendency to pass into finer maniacal 
 splendours. That gaiety, for instance (for such at first it was), 
 in the dreaming faculty, by which one principal point of resem- 
 blance to a crocodile in the mail-coachman was soon made to 
 clothe him with the form of a crocodile, and yet was blended 
 with accessory circumstances derived from his human functions, 
 passed rapidly into a further development, no longer gay or play- 
 ful, but terrific, the most terrific that besieges dreams — viz., the 
 horrid inoculation upon each other of incompatible natures. 
 This horror has always been secretly felt by man ; it was felt 
 even under pagan forms of religion, which offered a very feeble, 
 and also a very limited, gamut for giving expression to the human 
 capacities of sublimity or of horror. We read it in the fearful 
 composition of the sphinx. The dragon, again, is the snake 
 inoculated upon the scorpion. The basflisk unites the mysterious 
 malice of the evil eye, unintentional venom of some other 
 malignant natures. But these horrid complexities of evil agency 
 are but objectively horrid : they inflict the horror suitable to 
 their compound nature ; but there is no insinuation that they feel 
 that horror. Heraldry is so full of these fantastic creatures that, 
 in some zoologies, we find a separate chapter or a supplement 
 dedicated to what is denominated heraldic zoology. And why 
 not ? For these hideous creatures, however visionary, have a real 
 traditionary ground in mediaeval belief — sincere and partly 
 reasonable, though adulterating with mendacity, blundering, 
 credulity, and intense superstition. But the dream horror which 
 I speak of is far more frightful. The dreamer finds housed 
 within himself, occupying, as it were, some separate chamber in 
 his brain — holding, perhaps, from that station a secret and 
 detestable commerce with his own heart — some horrid alien 
 nature. What if it were his own nature repeated,— stiU if the 
 duality were distinctly perceptible, even that — even this mere 
 nufiierical double of his own consciousness — might be a curse too 
 mighty to be sustained. But how if the alien nature contradicts 
 his own, fights with it, perplexes and confounds it ? How, again, 
 if not one alien nature, but two, but three, but four, but five are 
 
NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 159 
 
 introduced within what once he thought the inviolable sanctuary 
 of himself ? These, however, are horrors from the kingdom of 
 anarchy and darkness, which, by their very intensity, challenge 
 the sanctity of concealment, and gloomily retire from exposition. 
 Yet it was necessary to mention them, because the first introduc- 
 tion to such appearances (whether causal or merely causal) lay in 
 the heraldic monsters, which monsters were themselves introduced 
 (though playfully), by the transfigured coachman of the Bath 
 mail." 
 
 " If therefore the crocodile," etc. For an explanation of this 
 passage see the Introduction {Glory of Motion). 
 
 GOING DOWN WITH VICTORY. 
 
 662. Going down, etc. This sub-title of a part of the Qlofry 
 of Motion means driving down into the country with the news 
 of some great victory. 
 
 665. T&afalgar to Waterloo, i.e. from 21st October 1805, the 
 date of the battle of Trafalgar, to the 18th June 1815, the 
 date of Waterloo. 
 
 666. 1806 and 1807. These were the years of Napoleon's 
 victories over the Prussians at Jena and the Russians at Eylau 
 — two of the most bloody battles he ever fought. The Peninsular 
 War began in 1808. 
 
 668. 1805 to 1815. Omitting the first and the last, Trafalgar 
 and Waterloo, we have the following series of great victories in 
 Spain: — Vimiera, 21st August 1808 ; Corunna, 16th January 1809 ; 
 Fuentes de Onoro, 5th May, and Albuera, 16th May 1811; 
 Ciudad Rodrigo, Badajoz, and Salamanca in 1812 ; Vittoria and 
 the battles of the Pyrenees in 1813. 
 
 669. Titans, a race of giants who are fabled in Greek mythology 
 to have warred against the gods. 
 
 670. Inappreciable. A very peculiar use of the word. Its 
 ordinary meaning is " of little or no value " — ^he;re De Quincey 
 uses it to mean " of the highest value," of such great value that 
 we cannot estimate it. 
 
 670. Value of position, on account of the place and time at 
 which they were fought. 
 
 673. Vulnerability. So great and overwhelming had been 
 Napoleon's successes in all his land battles against Italy, Austria, 
 Prussia, and Russia that the nations of Europe— England ex- 
 cepted— began to regard him as " invulnerable." His vulnera- 
 bility was proved in the battles of the Peninsular War, in which 
 
i6o NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 however, we must remember that he took but little part, entrust- 
 ing the command to his most celebrated generals. 
 
 675. Baubling, petty, insignificant. From the French hahiole, 
 a child's plaything. De Quincey borrows the phrase from 
 Shakespeare : — ■ 
 
 " A lauhling vessel was he captain of, 
 For shallow draught and bulk iinprizable." 
 
 —Twelfth Sight, V. 1. 57, 58. 
 
 678. In one quarter, i.e. in England. 
 
 680. Bearded the eUte, faced boldly the pick of the French 
 troops. Cf.: — 
 
 " And dar'st thou then 
 To beard the lion in his den, 
 The Douglas in his hall ? " 
 
 — Mcmnion, C. vi. 14. 
 
 681. Pitched battles, not chance encounters, but regular 
 battles, where the troops have left their respective encampments 
 to fight. 
 
 682. Paying down, paying for on the spot, a favourite word 
 with our author. 
 
 687. Frelibation, a foretaste, anticipation. 
 
 688. Aroma, delightful flavour, joyous news. 
 
 691. On parade, in regular order, as if for a military show. 
 
 691. Lombard Street. A well-known street in London, named 
 after certain bankers and money-lenders, who came originally 
 from Lombardy and other parts of Italy. They had their offices 
 in this street. 
 
 692. St Hartins-Ie-Grand. The street took its name from an 
 old collegiate church, which was demolished on the abolition of 
 the monasteries. 
 
 693. Seated, i.e. situated. 
 
 694. The General Post-office of London was originally estab- 
 lished in Cloak Lane, near Dowgate-hill, whence it was removed 
 to the Black Swan in Bishopsgate Street. After the great fire of 
 1666 it was removed to the Two Black PiUars in Brydges Street, 
 Covent Garden, and afterwards (about 1690) to Sir Robert 
 Viner's mansion in Lombard Street. It was transferred to the 
 building in St Martin's-le-Grand, erected on the site of an 
 ancient college. 
 
 695. Attelage, French for a " set " or " team " of horses. De 
 Quincey means not only the four horses harnessed to each coach, 
 but the coach also. In lines 733-35 below, a list of fourteen 
 towns is given. Allowing eight yards for the length of each 
 coach and horses, and a yard or so before and behind, seven 
 coaches would require about seventy yards. The fourteen, if not 
 more, were drawn up in double lines. 
 
NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. i6f 
 
 697. The spectacle was beautiful. The following passage from 
 Captain Haworth's Road Scrapings, pp. 128, 129 (Tinsley, 1882), 
 describing a King's birthday parade of the mail-coaches, will 
 serve to illustrate our text : — 
 
 " It was a beautiful sight to see the mails on the King's birth- 
 day assembled at the General Post-office,— the men all dressed 
 in new liveries, and in most cases with new harness ; the horses 
 decorated with bouquets of flowers — making a promenade 
 through the principal streets in the west of London. 
 
 " This parade did not in any way interfere with the regular 
 work, and nearly all the night mails assembled at the General 
 Post-office at eight o'clock to receive their bags. Some of the 
 Western and Southern mails were met by a mail-cart with their 
 bags at their own booking-offices in the West-end. The fastest 
 mail out of London was the ' Devonport,' commonly called the 
 'Quicksilver'; and who that ever saw can forget it, with its 
 four chestnuts, driven by Charles Ward, leaving the White Horse 
 Cellars at half-past eight ! " 
 
 709. Heart-shaking, thrilling. The addition of laurels, oak- 
 leaves, &c., to indicate that they were carrying news of victory, 
 was cakulated to send a thrill to the hearts of the onlookers. 
 
 713. The privilege of the post-office. See De Quineey's note 
 on line 524. 
 
 731, 2. Are summoned . . . ancestral names. It was usual to 
 call out the name of the place for which a coach was destined. 
 On "Lincoln," "Oxford," or any other city being called out, the 
 coach for that place would draw up opposite the post-office. As 
 soon as the mails were deposited in the guard's locker or " boot," 
 that particular coach "drew off," that is, was driven away to 
 make room for the next on the list. 
 
 748. Liverpool for ever! The English have a peculiar national 
 habit of adding the words " for ever " to any person or place they 
 are cheering. Thus, — " Hip, hip, hurrah : " " Gladstone for 
 ever;" "Balfour for ever;" "England for ever;" " India /or 
 ever." The phrase is elliptical for, May these persons or places 
 be remembered or famous for ever. 
 
 750. Half-slumbering consciousness, scarcely realised knowledge. 
 
 757. A fiery arrow. Compare the stanzas in Scott's Lady of 
 the Lake, Canto III,, xii.-xxiv., describing the " fiery cross." 
 
 764. The embarrassments. The streets and crowds of people, 
 which oblige the coach to go at a moderate pace. 
 
 776. Be thou whole. A sort of quotation from the New 
 Testament, where the miracle of the healing of the woman is 
 described, Luke viii. 48. 
 
 782. Aerial jubilation, the joy of the very air in our joy at 
 victory. 
 
 L 
 
i62 NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 790. Unpremeditated pantomime, gestures indicating to us 
 without words, and on the spur of the moment, their joyous 
 sympathy with us on the mail. 
 
 801. Professional salute. When two coaches or carriages of 
 any sort pass one another, and the drivers wish to salute, they 
 do so, not hy touching or by raising their hats, but by lifting the 
 elbow of their whip-hand. In this case the coachman salutes the 
 ladies. 
 
 803. Touches his hat. The guard, not having his hand occu- 
 pied with a whip, is able to touch his hat by way of salutation. 
 
 816. Charwomen, women who do " chares," or odd work 
 about a house by the day. Ghar is from A.S. cerran, to turn. 
 A " char " is, in provincial English, a "turn " of work. 
 
 837. To hit a flying mark, to throw papers into passing 
 carriages. The coach, it is to be remembered, was travelling at 
 the rate of ten miles an hour, and the speed of the passing 
 carriage was probably considerable so that the mark he aimed at 
 might be said to be a " flying " or very rapidly passing one. 
 
 858. Fey, bewitched, doomed, in the power of the fates. 
 
 859. Waie, feast. A North of England word. In Ireland the 
 word means " a sitting up all night watching a dead body before 
 a funeral." These ceremonies often lead to scenes of disorder. 
 
 873. Holy. This is very characteristic of De Quincey, who 
 sees deeper into the heart of things than most men. To hittt the 
 sight of crowds of people enthusiastically rejoicing in the 
 victory of their countrymen was a "holy" sight. It brought 
 out the most generous and noblest parts of their nature — their 
 feelings of kinship and patriotism. 
 
 880. The imperfect one of Talavera. Talavera is a Spanish 
 town in the province of Toledo. Wellington gained a great 
 victory here over Marshals Victor and Sebastiani, July 27th 
 and 28th, 1809. Owing to the obstructiveness of Cuesta, the 
 Spanish general, Wellington was unable to follow up his victory, 
 and crush Victor before the arrival of Soult. Napier, in h^ 
 History of the Penmsular Wa/r, speaks thus of the way in which 
 Cuesta thwarted Sir Arthur WeUesley (Wellington). "If he 
 demanded food for his troops, he was answered by false state- 
 ments of what had been supplied, and falser promises of what 
 would be done ; and the glorious services rendered at Talaveia, 
 far from exciting the gratitude or calling forth the activity of 
 the Spanish authorities, seemed only to render them the more 
 perverse. The soldiers in the ranks were weakened by hunger, the 
 sick were dying for want of necessary succours, the commis- 
 saries were without the means of transport, and when Sir 
 Arthur Wellesley applied for only ninety artillery horses to 
 supply the place of tliose killed in the action, Cuesta, on the very 
 
NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 163 
 
 field of battle, and with the steam of the English blood still reek- 
 ing in his nostrils, refused this request, and, two days after, 
 abandoned the wounded men to au enemy that he and his 
 countrymen were hourly describing as the most ferocious and 
 dishonourable of mankind." 
 
 901. The 23rd Dragoons. The famous charge of this regiment 
 is thus related by Sir Charles Napier in his History of the 
 Peninsular War: — 
 
 " Sir Arthur Wellesley immediately ordered Anson's brigade 
 of cavalry, composed of the 23rd Light Dragoons and the 1st 
 German Hussars, to charge the head of these columns ; and 
 this brigade, coming on at a canter, and increasing its speed as it 
 advanced, rode headlong against the enemy, but in a few 
 moments came upon the brink of a hollow cleft, which was not 
 perceptible at a distance. The French, throwing themselves into 
 squares, opened their fire ; and Colonel Arenstcmld, commanding 
 the Hussars, an officer whom forty years' experience had made a 
 master in his art, promptly reined up at the brink, exclaiming, 
 in his broken English, ' I will not kill my young mans.' 
 
 "The English blood was hotter. The 23rd, under Colonel 
 Seymour, rode wildly down into the hollow, and men and horses 
 fell over each other in dreadful confusion. The survivors, still 
 untamed, mounted the opposite bank by twos and threes ; Sey- 
 mour was wounded ; but Major Frederick Ponsonby, a hardy 
 soldier, rallying all who came up, passed through the midst of 
 Villate's columns, and, reckless of the musketry from each side, 
 fell, with inexpressible violence, upon a brigade of French 
 chasseurs in the rear. The combat was fierce but short. Victor 
 had perceived the first advance of the English, and detached his 
 Polish lancers and Westphalian light-horse to the support of 
 Villate ; and these fresh troops coming- up when the 23rd, 
 already overmatched, could scarcely hold up against the 
 chasseurs, entirely broke them. Those who were not killed or 
 taken made for Bassecour's Spanish division, and so escaped, , 
 leaving behind 207 men and officers, or about half the number 
 that went into action." 
 
 II. THE VISION OF SUDDEN DEATH. 
 
 945. What is to be taken .... sudden death. This question 
 De Quincey does not explicitly answer. The pojmla/r horror of a 
 sudden, i.e. an unexpected death, he regards as based neither on 
 sound reason, nor upon the " eternities of the Christian system." 
 This forms the subject of the latter part of the first paragraph. 
 
i64 NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 Prom a philosophic, reflective point of view, sudden death, he 
 argues, is not to be dreaded, since the last action of a man's life 
 wUl not in the eyes of a just God be regarded as an habitual action, 
 nor can it overbalance the sum-total of the man's previous 
 actions. In one case, however, sudden death, even from the 
 "philosophic" point of view, is terrible : where there appears to be a 
 chance of evading the danger, a call therefore for the exercise of 
 especial presence of mind. More particularly is such a situation 
 to be dreaded when the life or death of another is concerned, 
 where the exercise of presence of mind may save, — where in- 
 capacity to act — moral cowardice — must inevitably doom that 
 other to destruction. This is dealt with in the third paragraph, 
 and leads up naturally to the account of the "Vision" which 
 De Quincey beheld from the roof of the mail coach, which, in 
 its turn, leads up, more or less naturally, to the Dream Fugue. 
 (See Introduction.) 
 
 948. Consummation ... to be desired, an echo of Hamlet, 
 III. i. 60-64 :— 
 
 " To die ; to sleep ; 
 No more ; and by a sleep to say we end 
 The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocl^s 
 That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation 
 Devoutly to be wish'd." 
 
 De Quincey is probably thinking of the Greeks. That Greek 
 sentiment sometimes regarded a sudden death as the greatest of 
 blessings, is illustrated by the beautiful Greek story of OleoMs and 
 Bito. Cleobis and Bito showed such love towards their mother 
 that she in gratitude prayed the gods that they would give her 
 sons the highest gift they had to bestow. And her prayer, the 
 story tells us, was heard ; for when she went to call them next 
 morning, she found them both lying dead. However, this mood 
 of feeling is far from peculiar to the Greeks : it reappears 
 repeatedly in all " conditions of society." 
 
 951. Csesar the Dictator, etc. This story is related by Plutarch 
 and Appian. The night before his murder Oeesar supped with 
 several friends in the house of Lepidus. Caesar, according to his 
 custom, was employing leisure moments in signing papers ; the 
 others were talking. The subject of their conversation happened 
 to be "what sort of death was most to be desired." Caesar 
 looked up for a moment and said, " a sudden one." 
 
 951. (Coena), Latin. This meal corresponds to the modern 
 dinner of the English upper classes, that is, it was an evening 
 meal. See Smith's Dictionary of Greek and Roman Antiquities, 
 under head Ooena. See also De Quincey's essay. The Casuistry 
 of Roman meals, in which he shows that the Coena of the Romans 
 was equivalent to the modern dinner. 
 
NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 165 
 
 956. The divine Litany of our English Church, " Here follow- 
 eth the Litany, or General SupplicatioH, to be sung or said after 
 morning prayer upon Sundays, JVednesdays, and Fridays, and at 
 other times when it shall be commanded by the Ordinmy." 
 (Rubric in the Booh of Gommon Prayer.) Litany, from Greek 
 \naueia, a prayer. De Quincey frequently throughout his works 
 describes himself as a devoted adherent to the doctrines and 
 discipline of the English Church. 
 
 961. Good Lord deliver us. This is the response made by the 
 whole congregation : the terms of each supplication are " sung or 
 said" by the minister alone. 
 
 964. The noblest of >h6 Romans. For De Quincey's estimate of 
 the character of Julius Caesar, see the first chapter of his work The 
 Ccesars (included in vol. vi. of Masson's edition of the Works). He 
 there puts the question, "Was Caesar, upon the whole, the greatest 
 of men ? " and answers his own question in the afiirmative. In 
 his Introduction, Masson remarks that "the character of the 
 ' mightiest JuKus ' is estimated by De Quincey, one is glad to 
 find, as he was by Shakespeare, and has been by every other fit 
 modern authority, as the noblest of Eoman men." Owing to the 
 prevalence of republican ideals at the end of the last century 
 and the early part of this, the character of Julius suffered a 
 temporary eclipse, and a kind of hero-worship surrounded the 
 persons of his republican assassins. De Quincey was amongst the 
 first in England to lead men back to the estimate of Csesar that 
 had been formed by Shakespeare, and, before Shakespeare, by Dante. 
 The best of modern historians take De Quincey's view, e.g. 
 Merivale, who, in his History of the Romans under the Empire, 
 speaks of Caesar's name as " the greatest in history "; and Froude, 
 who has devoted a special work to the glorification of Julius. 
 
 965. As the first of blessings. Caesar did nqt term asudden death 
 the " first of blessings," but merely the most desirable kind of 
 death ; death itself, we gather elsewhere, he regarded neither as 
 a blessing nor as a curse. (See Caesar's speech on the Catiline 
 conspiracy, as reported by Sallust.) 
 
 966. The essential difference between Christianity and Paganism. 
 This essential difference De Quincey is ever insisting upon, most 
 unfairly as many think. He wUl not allow that the finger of 
 God can be discerned in any religion or system of thought save 
 Christianity alone. He will not allow that there has been some 
 
 . good, some truth in all religions ; that God 
 
 " Hath looked on no religion scornfully 
 That man did ever find." 
 
 Masson has some excellent remarks upon this point in his 
 Introduction to volume viii. of the Works, the volume which 
 
i66 NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 includes the speculative and theological essays of De Quincey, 
 "Nothing here," he says, "it will be seen, of the modern scientific 
 notion of a certain respectability, more or less, in all religions. 
 If De Quincey ever heard of this notion, he was obstinate as a 
 mule against it, and stood out stifiSy for the old-fashioned 
 Christian tradition." 
 
 974. Any direct scriptural warrant. No text in the Bible can 
 be quoted in defence of the idea. 
 
 975. A special construction of the word " sudden," such a con- 
 struction as is given to it in the third paragraph. 
 
 '980. Special varieties of physical temperament, a temperament 
 which is unequal to anything sudden, which shrinks in the face 
 of sudden danger, at any sudden caU to action or endurance. De 
 Quincey regards the shrinking as rather animal, bodily, than 
 mental. 
 
 983. Uncharitable superstition, for it would lead us to condemn 
 our fellow-creatures to an eternity of woe. 
 
 990-1. Exalted into a blasphemy. Why a single act of blasphemy 
 (a blasphemy) should be regarded as meriting a quite different 
 scale of punishment from a single act of drunkenness, is at first 
 not quite easy to see. A final act of blasphemy will not make a 
 mananhabitual blasphemer, any more than a finalact of drunken- 
 ness will make him an habitual drunkard. De Quincey explains 
 what he means a few lines lower down. If a man was aware 
 beforehand that he was going to die suddenly, an act of drunken- 
 ness on his part would acquire "a new feature." It would 
 become not only a sin of intemperance, but also a sin of irrever- 
 ence, a defiance of God. 
 
 991. Blasphemy is by derivation the same word as blame, from 
 Greek fi\aiitt>riiieia, I speak ill of ; but blashemy always in 
 English, as sometimes in Greek, means to speak iU of God ; then 
 it becomes the greatest of sins and includes all others, for it is an 
 act of defiance, of total rebellion against God. 
 
 1008. Simply of special misfortune. It is curious that De 
 Quincey has missed the chief reason which makes sudden death, from 
 a Christian point of view, terrible. The reason is to be found in 
 the value which Christianity attaches to repentance, most of all to 
 a deathbed repentance. The sins of the vilest criminal may be 
 utterly washed out if only he repents at the last moment. 
 Sudden death, therefore, is dreaded because it cuts ofl' all chance 
 of such repentance ; not because itdeprives the sinner of a pardon 
 which might otherwise l;ave been extended to a. final actot guilt, 
 but because it deprives him of the pardon that would have been 
 extended to all his former wickedness. 
 
 1010. Very possibly . . . way supposed. It may safely be as- 
 serted that De Quinceys line of thought in this paragraph is 
 
NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 167 
 
 wrong. He understands Csesar to mean by " sudden " not " unex- 
 pected" but " unlingering." (1) The ancients certainly understood 
 Ceesar to mean " unexpected," for the anecdote is related amongst 
 various other omens which foretold Caesar's unexpected death. 
 Understanding "unlingering," Csesar's words have no point 
 whatsoever in the context assigned to them by Plutarch. (2) 
 Csesar was remarkable for his personal courage. It is not there- 
 fore likely that he of all men would specially dread the fain 
 (" shocks, spasms, groans," and so on) attending a lingering death. 
 (3) Caesar had no motive for desiring an unlingering death other 
 than a belief that such was on the whole less painful than any 
 other kind of death. Any preparation for death was to him 
 unnecessary. He did not believe in a future state of rewards and 
 punishments : he declared that after death "there was no place 
 for sorrow or for joy." A truer interpretation of the story is 
 that given by Merivale in chapter xxi. of his History : — " It had 
 long been the principle of his philosophy that the only way to 
 enjoy life was to banish the fear of death. On the eve of the 
 fatal day he was entertained by Lepidus ; and when, in course of 
 conversation, some one started the question " what kind of death 
 is best," it was remarked that he cut short the discussion abruptly 
 with the reply, 'That which is least expected.'" Notice that 
 Merivale expressly translates the Greek word into "least ex- 
 pected." But perhaps the fullest justice is done to Caesar by 
 Shakespeare, when he makes the great dictator say, 
 
 " Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, 
 It seems to me most strange that men should fear ; 
 Seeing that death, a necessary end, 
 Will come when it will come." — Jvlius Cceswr, II. li. 34. 
 
 1015. Brnfloraros, from the Greek fiiaios, violent, and flororoj, 
 death. The compound appears to be coined by De Quincey. 
 
 1021. Unlingering. See note above. 
 
 1024. The poor mutineer. To be shot by twelve of his 
 fellow-soldiers is the punishment meted out to a mutineer or a 
 deserter. 
 
 1026. In Caesar's sense, i.e. in De Quincey's sense of what 
 Caesar's sense may have been. See note on line 965 above. 
 
 1035-6. Which a holy Christian church. A holy Christian 
 church, that is, an institution like the holy Christian Church of 
 England. 
 
 1036. Departing children. Members of the Church who are at 
 the point of death. 
 
 1043-4. Each man's variety of temperament. See note on line 
 980 above. 
 
 1043-4. Meantime one aspect, etc. Here follows the " special 
 
1 68 NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 construction of the word ' sudden,' " referred to in the first para- 
 graph. 
 
 1047. Which offer . . . evading it. These words should be 
 noted carefully, for two reasons : first, because they give the clue 
 to all that follows ; secondly, as aflfording a good example of De 
 Quince/s artistically exact use of language. He is careful to 
 qualify his assertions ; hence the parenthesis, " or which seem to 
 offer " : he is anxious to find the exact adjectives which the 
 circumstances require, hence the three epithets, hurrying, flying, 
 inappreciably minute. These epithets form, it wiU be observed, 
 a climax. 
 
 1053. Exasperation. Here " increase in intensity." 
 
 1055-6. Instinct . . . conscience. Note carefully the difference 
 between these two words. 
 
 1049-51. Sudden as the danger . . . accomplished. Any effort 
 by which . . . must be as sudden as the danger, etc. Arranging 
 the sentence in this "natural" order, we gain perhaps a little 
 clearness, but at the expense of the emphasis attained by De 
 Quincey's inversion. 
 
 1059. Though in fact it is far from venial. Why? Because if 
 we look deeply into the matter, the moral bearing of any act, or the 
 immoral bearing of failure to act, does not altogether depend 
 upon the end which the act has in view, but also on the power to 
 act at all. Whether the end in view be self-preservation or the 
 salvation of another, the failure in either case has its origin in 
 the same source — weakness of will, moral incapacity, "eifeminate 
 collapse of your energies." Students of Browning will remember 
 with what power the same idea is dealt with in the poem. The 
 Statue and, the Bust. In that poem two lovers set before them 
 an end which is in itself morally wrong ; they fail to obtain 
 it, and the poet condemns them because — 
 
 " The sin I impute to each frustrate ghost 
 Is — the unUt lamp and the ungirt loin. 
 Though the end in sight he a sin, I say 
 You of the virtue (we issue join) 
 How strive you ? — De tef ' 
 
 That is to say, the lovers had not enough virtue to be vicious. 
 Carlyle treats the question in the same way in his Hero Worship, 
 where he contends that the fox cannot even steal geese success- 
 fully without some morality; and Froude, Carlyle's disciple, 
 goes into the matter in even greater detail in his essay on 
 Reynard the Fox. It is perhaps characteristic of De Quincey that 
 he, never afraid of the longest digressions on trifling or " scenical " 
 subjects, skips over a profound question of ethics, whose import- 
 ance he is thoroughly aware of, — without so much as attempting 
 to explain what he means. 
 
ROTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 169 
 
 1063. Apprehensive, here sensitive, as in Milton, — 
 
 " Thoughts, my tonnentors, armed with deadly stings, 
 Man^e my apprehensive, tenderest parts." 
 
 — Samson Agonistes, 623, 624. 
 
 1067. Any even partial . , . energies. In these words lies the 
 key to the incident related in the concluding portion of the essay. 
 The young man in the gig was called upon to act at a moment 
 when by " effeminate coUapse of his energies," he must have been 
 " self-denounced as a murderer." 
 
 1069. Twinkling of an eye. A common metaphor for an incal- 
 culably short space of time. It is taken from the Bible (1 Corin- 
 thians XV. 52). 
 
 1074-5. The situation . . . nature. The "dreadful ulcer" is 
 "original sin," that is, the innate tendency towards evil in human 
 nature, which is only counterbalanced by a power to resist evil, 
 a power which, it appears, is not natural to man, but comes to 
 Jxim from an external source, the special grace of God. This is 
 the Christian doctrine ; and De Quincey finds a proof of it, as we 
 shall see, in certain peculiar phenomena in dreams. 
 
 1077. Potentially, i.e. there lies in every one the possibility of 
 such a thing. 
 
 1078-9. Upon the secret mirror of our dreams. The power to 
 resist evil lies in the conscious will, which, in De Quincey's view, 
 must be regarded as separate from the natural man. In dreams 
 the conscious will is inoperative, and thus in dreams the " secret 
 frailty of human nature reveals " itself. In a lesser degree, in the 
 face of sudden emergencies, sometimes the " natural man " gets the 
 better of the wiU, because the will is incapable of sudden action. 
 
 1080. That dream, so familiar. This illustration is repeated in 
 the enlarged edition of the Confessions of an English Opium Eater, 
 vol. iii. 316 : — " Just so helpless did I feel, disarmed into just the 
 same languishing impotence to face (or make an effort at facing) 
 the difficulty before me, as most of us have felt in the dreams of 
 our childhood when lying down without a struggle before some 
 all-conquering lion." 
 
 1080. Deep-seated falsehood to itself . . . treachery. Deep-seated 
 falsehood and abysmal treachery express the same idea, the latter 
 expression, itself a metaphor, explaining and enlarging upon the 
 first metaphor. The treachery arises in the double principle of 
 good and evil working together, and yet in antagonism in the 
 same human nature. In a very powerful and profound passage 
 in his essay, The Theban Sphinx (Collected Works, vi. 141), De 
 Quincey treats of the Christian conception of Sin, the " abysses of 
 man's higher relations," and " the dark foundations of our human 
 nature." 
 
I70 NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 1084. The original temptation, the Fall of Man from the perfect 
 state of innocence. The Hebrews found a solution of the terrible 
 mystery attending the very fact of the existence of sin and pain 
 and death in the story of the first man's disobedience ; the 
 rebellion against God, which " brought death into the world and 
 all our woe." This was the problem, as everyone knows, which 
 Milton in his Paradise Lost had to face when he set himself to 
 "justify the ways of God to man." 
 
 1091. Luziiiy of min. A very bold figure : the luxury of utter 
 self-abandonment. 
 
 1092. Aboriginal Paradise. The garden of Eden, the home of 
 the parents of the human race. 
 
 1 092. The man falls by his own choice. Is this actually the case i 
 In the sort of dreams to which De Quincey seems to refer, the 
 dreamer desires but has not the power to mil : the agony of such 
 dreams lies in the fact that one has to yield because one has no 
 power to choose. 
 
 1093. The ancient earth groans, etc. In the next few lines the 
 thought is taken from Milton, Pa/radise Lost, ix. 780, from 
 which the words in inverted commas are directly quoted : — 
 
 " So saying, her (Eve's) rash hand in evil hour 
 Forth reaching to the fruit, she plucked, she ate ; 
 Earth felt the wound, and Nature from her seat, 
 Sighing through all her works, gave signs of woe 
 That all was lost." 
 
 And again, when Adam, tempted by Eve, also eats of the forbidden 
 fruit : — 
 
 " Earth trembled from her entrails, as t^ain 
 
 In pangs, and Nature gave a second groan, 
 
 Sky lowered, and muttermg thunder, some sad drops 
 
 Wept at completing of the mortal sin 
 
 Original." Paradise Lost, ix. 1000-8. 
 
 1100. Everyone of us ratifies for himself,, proves in his own 
 person the consequence of the original sin of Adam. The next 
 sentence merely repeats in other words the thought of the fore- 
 going sentence. The general idea of this paragraph, it must be 
 admitted, is rather fanciful. 
 
 1107. So scenical. See Revolt of the Ta/rtars, line 64 and note. 
 De Quincey uses this word perpetually, because he found it de- 
 scribed exactly an aspect of things which was constantly before 
 his mind. Life appears to him a pageant, of which he sits as a 
 spectator, giving himself up to the luxury of being swayed hither 
 and thither by emotions of horror, or pity, or awe. But he is 
 spectator always : he plays no part himself in the drama. There 
 is small doubt that this peculiar and almost morbid attitude of 
 mind in De Quincey was partly produced by opium. 
 
NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 171 
 
 1108. Reverie, from French r^vw, to dream ; a loose form of 
 meditation. 
 
 1111. The second or third sununer after Waterloo, that is to say, 
 in 1817 or 1818. De Quincey was at that time living in the Lake 
 district. In 1816 he married. It is to be noticed that the 
 years 1817 and 1818 are precisely those during which De Quincey 
 was completely "overmastered by the enemy," opium. See 
 Japp's Be Quinm^s Life and Letters, 141, and the section entitled 
 The Pa/ins of Opium, in The Gonfessions of an English Opiwm, Eater. 
 
 1112. A singular combination of accidents. These accidents 
 we shall notice, each in its place. 
 
 1114. Oblique and lateral communications, communications with 
 post oifices which lay off the mail road. It was necessary for the 
 mail coach to wait at Manchester until all the country mails had 
 come in. 
 
 1118. The down mail. " Down "and " up '' are used in reference 
 to London. The mail goes up to London, down from London to 
 anywhere else. The term is still used under the railway system : 
 the line of rails on which trains pass on their way towards London 
 is called the "up line," the other line the "down line." It may 
 be noticed that the route pursued by the North- Western mail 
 coach covers practically the same ground as does the London 
 and North- Western Eailway at the present day. 
 
 1127. I lost my way. Considering that De Quincey was born, 
 and for the most part educated, in Manchester, this circumstance 
 is a little peculiar. Darkness and opium had probably a good deal 
 to do with it. 
 
 1131. Saucer eyes, the great lamps of the mail coach, shaped 
 like saucers. 
 
 1136. Bridgewater Arms, the hotel of that name, so called in 
 honour of the Duke of Bridgewater. It is very common for 
 inns to be similarly designated in England. 
 
 1137. A bit of bimting, a small flag. " Bunting," thin woollen 
 stuff of which ship's " colours " or flags are made. 
 
 1 140-1. Hoisted his pocket-handkerchief. A ridiculous travesty 
 of such expressions as " hoist the standard," " hoist our colours," 
 etc. On the questionable taste of the insertion of several para- 
 graphs of a humorous, or rather broadly comic character in a paper 
 of tne nature of this Vision of Sudden Death, see the Introduction. 
 
 1141. Virgin soil. Here, land that has never been occupied. 
 Generally the words mean merely soil hitherto uncultivated. 
 
 1142. Jus dominii. Latin, right of lordship, a term in Roman 
 and feudal law. 
 
 1143. Driving shafts, i.e. perpendicular excavations for purposes 
 of mining or reaching water. 
 
 1146. Squatting. A technical term for settling on unoccupied 
 
172 NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 ground with the sanction of the Government, but without formal 
 legal title. Many of the early settlers in Australia were known 
 as "squatters." "Squatting" closely resembles the Eoman 
 " occwpatio." 
 
 1152. Jus gentium. Latin, law of nations ; international law. 
 
 1156. Missed fire. A gun which does not "go off" when the 
 trigger is pulled is said to " miss fire." Hencea common metaphor. 
 
 1158-9. I took a small quantity of laudanum. The " tincture of 
 opium, commonly called laudanum." De Quincey, in his Confes- 
 sions, vol. iii. 382 of the Works, whilst denying that opium is in 
 itself intoxicating, admits that laudanum is, seeing that it con- 
 tains "so much proof spirits of wine." That the quantity of 
 laudanum which De Quincey describes himself as taking really 
 was " small," we may have good reason to doubt. Be that as it 
 may, the laudanum undoubtedly accounts in a rather terrific 
 manner for much that follows. 
 
 1160. Assessor, used jocosely; "my companion on the box- 
 seat." 
 
 1161. There was nothing eztraordinaxy. Unfortunately not : 
 no incident in De Quincey's life at that time could well have been 
 more ordinary. 
 
 1168. Monstrum, horrendum, etc. Virgil, Am,, iii. 658. "A 
 marvel dread, a shapeless trunk, an eyeless monstrous thing" 
 (W. Morris's Translation). This was the Cyclops Polyphemus. 
 He was one of a race of giants in Sicily. The Cyclopes had but 
 oi4e eye in the middle of the forehead. Even this eye Polyphemus 
 had. lost, for Odysseus, while the Cyclops lay intoxicated, bored 
 it out with a pole fired at the end. See Homer's Odyssey, Bk. ix. 
 
 1172. One of the Calenders. Calender, "a sortof privileged 
 beggar or faquir." The three Calenders in the Arahun Nights 
 are all blind of an eye. This calamity was the result, in each 
 case, of some very extraordinary adventure. The third Calender^ 
 whose story is here alluded to, lost his eye as a punishment 
 for his ungovernable curiosity in entering a room which he had 
 been strictly enjoined not to enter. 
 
 1181. Al Sirat, a bridge between the earth and the Mahomedan 
 Paradise. It is as narrow as is a spider's thread. Beneath it 
 lies Hell, into which the wicked fall headlong, but the good 
 pass over the bridge without difficulty. 
 
 1182. Battlements. Here, side walls, parapets : the word 
 generally means the wall round the top of a castle or fortified 
 place, constructed for purposes of defence. It has, however, 
 nothing to do with fighting, being derived, not from " battle," 
 but from batir, to build. 
 
 1184. Coguomlnated. A coined word ;" I gave him the cogno- 
 men, Cyclops," etc. Many of the Eomans, in addition to their nomen 
 
NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 173 
 
 (family name) and praenomen (individual name), had another 
 name (cognomen) which they received as a mark of distinction, 
 e.g. Publius Soipio Africcmus, and Metellus Macedonicus, etc. 
 etc. 
 
 1185. Cyclops Diphrelates. Cyclops, Greek KidcXaj^, from kukAof, 
 a circle, and a^, an eye; Diphrelates, from Greek Si^peAotjjj, 
 from 5i0pos, a chariot, and e\awa, to drive. 
 
 1186. Excuse, reader, a word, etc. In the original Blackwood 
 article this passage stood as follows :— " I used to call him Cyclops 
 Mastigophorus, Cyclops the whip -bearer, until I observed that his 
 skill made whips useless, except to fetch off an impertinent fly 
 from a leader's head ; upon which I changed his Grecian name 
 to Cyclops Diphrelates (Cyclops the Charioteer). I, and others 
 known to me, studied under him the diphrelatic art. Excuse, 
 reader, a word too elegant to be pedantic, and also take this 
 remark from me as a gage d'amiti^—th&t no word ever was or 
 cam, be pedantic which, by supporting a distinction, supports 
 the accuracy of logic, or which fills up a chasm for the under- 
 standing." 
 
 1194. I had the whip-hand of him, I had a distinct advantage 
 over him. The metaphor is singularly appropriate here ; the 
 " whiphand " over a " coach-man." 
 
 1198. He had an interest at stake. This is one of the " acci- 
 dents." See note on line 1112 above. 
 
 1206. Some people have called me procrastinating. See, for an 
 illustration of this failing of De Quincey, a very amusing passage 
 in the essay. The Antigone of Sophocles {Collected Works, x. 380, 381), 
 where De Quincey tells us that "it had been generally reported " 
 as characteristic of himself that " in respect to all coaches, steam- 
 boats, railroads, wedding-parties, baptisms, and so forth, there 
 was a fatal necessity of his being a trifle too late." He goes on to 
 teU a story in disproof of the allegation, showing how once he 
 made up his mind to be a "trifle too soon," and actually was so, — . 
 too soon by six and a half minutes. On this occasion, however, he 
 had been misinformed as to the proper time. But for this misun- 
 derstanding he would have been twenty-three and a half minutes 
 too late. See also Sortilege and Astrology (xiii. 257), where De 
 Quincey speaks of " a lecture addressed to myself by an ultra- 
 moral friend — a lecture on procrastination." 
 
 1211. The guard tells me, etc. This is another accident. See 
 note on line 1112. 
 
 1213. Packet service, service of vessels carrying mails across 
 the English Channel. 
 
 1228. Which virtually (though not in law). Appleby is the 
 capital of Westmoreland, though Kendal, in point of size, etc., is 
 the most important town. 
 
174 NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 1235. Proud Preston. Ue Quinoey consistently gives " Proud " 
 Preston its title. In the Confessions he has in one paragraph 
 occasion to mention Preston twice, and in each case it is called 
 "proud" Preston {Works, iii. 318, 319). It is very doubtful 
 whether the reason here assigned for the title is the true one. 
 
 1237. Footnote (the Pythagorean letter.) The Greek letter T 
 (ypdlon, English Y) represents the " sacred triad proceeding from 
 the monad " ; also it represents the " dividing lines of vice and 
 virtue in the development of human life." Otherwise called the 
 Samian letter. 
 
 Cf. : — " When Geason doubtful, like the Samian letter, 
 Points him two ways, the narrower the tetter." 
 
 — Pope's Dunciad, iv. 151. 
 
 1241. Affection, here disease. De Quincey says that he had 
 never suspected that the driver of the mail coach was in the 
 habit of sleeping. He thus humorously points to a curious trait 
 in men's minds. We are in the habit of thinking of men whom 
 we have never seen save in a single capacity, e.g. as postmen, 
 engine-drivers, guards, etc., as if they had no other existence save 
 as postmen, engiae-drive]?s, etc.; and when, by accident, one of 
 these is revealed to us as a man of "like passions with our- 
 selves," it comes upon us at first with a kind of shock. 
 1243. Aurigation, driving ; from Latin auriga, a chariot. 
 1243. ApoUo himself, with the horses of Aurora. Phoebus Apollo 
 amongst other attributes, is in Greek mythology the Sun God, 
 who daily drives his team of horses across the arch of heaven. 
 Aurora (Greek Eos) is the Dawn Goddess. 
 
 1246. This infirmity . . . whole Pagan Pantheon, Greek irav, all, 
 Beos, a god ; all the gods of Paganism. They were merely glorified 
 men and women, possessed with human passions, and subject to 
 the same necessities of nature — hunger, thirst, sleep, etc. — as men 
 are. De Quincey never loses an opportunity for a hit at the gods 
 of the heathen. For an instance of a god sleeping, we may men- 
 tion Proteus, a sea-god, who nightly lay down to slumber amongst 
 the flock of seals he tended. See Odyssey, iv. 
 
 1257. The pastoral surveillance, etc. See note on The Bevolt of 
 the Tourta/rs, line 104. The attorneys tended the witnesses as a 
 shepherd his sheep, or perhaps, in the metaphorical sense, as 
 the priest (pastor) tends his nock, the souls committed to his 
 charge. 
 
 1259. The middle watch. On board ship there are two sorts of 
 watches — a long watch of four hours, and a short watch of two 
 hours, called the dog (i.e. dodge) watch. The "dog" watch is a 
 device to prevent the same men. from always being on duty at 
 the same time. The watches are : — 
 
12 to 
 
 4 P.M. 
 
 4 „ 
 
 6 „ 
 
 8 „ 
 
 12 „ 
 
 6 „ 
 
 8 „ 
 12 „ 
 
 4 A.M. 
 
 4 „ 
 8 „ 
 
 8 „ 
 12 „ 
 
 NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 175 
 
 Afternoon watch. 
 Pirst dog watch. 
 Second dog watch. 
 First night watch. 
 Middle watch. 
 Morning watch. 
 Forenoon watch. 
 
 1267. Seven atmospheres of sleep. In plain words, he slept 
 very heavily. Sleep is imagined as occasioned by the pressure of 
 a large body of air. By a tremendous hyperbole, the driver is 
 supposed to be weighed down by a body of air seven times as 
 great as the actual atmospheric air. 
 
 1268. To consummate the case, to complete matters ; to put 
 the finishing touch to the whole. 
 
 1269. "Love amoi^st the Roses." An old song, pretty well 
 forgotten now. 
 
 1275. His Majesty's. George III. 
 
 1282. Lilliputian Lancaster. See Swift's "GuMwcr's IVawfe." In 
 his first voyage, Gulliver found himself amongst the Lilliputians, 
 human beings only six inches high : hence the word Lilliputian 
 means abnormally small. Lancaster is a very little town com- 
 pared with Manchester and Liverpool ; but Lancaster is the 
 capital of the county, the growth of the other two cities being of 
 comparatively modem date. 
 
 1284. Powerful established interests. The practice of holding 
 the assizes for the whole of the great county of Lancashire at 
 Lancaster would obviously be highly profitable to many Lancaster 
 people, tradesmen and others, who would consequently be much 
 averse to any change in the system. 
 
 Notice that this passage about the assizes is a pure digres- 
 sion. It actually hinders the natural evolution of the thought, by 
 introducing various extraneous considerations. The circumstance 
 required, no doubt, to be stated; a discussion of the difficulty of 
 changing the circumstance is out of place. Such " improprieties " 
 have been noted as a special fault in De Quincey. See Minto, 
 Manwd of English Prose Literature, 52, 53. 
 
 1296-7. Except the exhaustion . . . contested election. Prior to 
 the Reform Bill of 1832 the number of constituencies in Yorkshire 
 was much smaller than at present, and for each constituency 
 there was but one voting centre. As there were few borough 
 members, the vast majority of the electors were obliged to flock 
 together from different parts of the county to record their vote 
 for the " knights of the shire." 
 
 1307. In the middle of which lay my own birthday. De Quincey 
 was born on August 15, 1785. 
 
 1309. [Footnote. Giealdus Cambribnsis, Gerald De Barry 
 
176 NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH 
 
 (1147-1220). He became Bishop of St David's. He wrote a 
 number of historical works, which have been printed in the RolU 
 Series, in seven volumes. Amongst other books he wrote a Topo- 
 graphy of Ireland, the Conquest of Ireland, the Itinerary of Wales.] 
 
 1310. My own native county. De Quincey was born in Man- 
 chester, — at " Greenhay, near Manchester," his tombstone says, — a 
 statement accurate or inaccurate according as we understand by 
 it the name of the house or the district of Greenhay. 
 
 1312. Original curse of labour. " In the sweat of thy face shalt 
 thou eat bread," Genesis ii. This was the " curse " pronounced by 
 God on Adam, after Adam had sinned in eating the forbidden 
 fruit. Whether labour is a curse, or rather the greatest blessing, 
 is another question. 
 
 1324. Counter-vision of rest. The vision of multitudinous toil 
 suggested its opposite, perfect rest. Of. The Confessions of an 
 English Opitim, Eater. " For it may be observed, generally, that 
 whenever two thoughts stand related to each other by a law of 
 antagonism, and exist as it were by mutual repulsion, they are 
 apt to suggest each other." {Collected Works, iii. 444.) 
 
 1325-7. Towards which . . . constantly travelling. That is to 
 say, the prof ounder aspirations of man's heart long for rest. Is this 
 true ? De Quincey certainly thought so, and the belief is charac- 
 teristic of his passive nature. Other modem thinkers have held a 
 contrary belief. 
 
 1328. Nearing the sea. The bay into which flows the river 
 nibble, near Preston. 
 
 1329. Halcyon repose. Halcyon, Gk. a\Kvav, kingfisher. There 
 was a curious popular belief that whilst the halcyon was hatching 
 its young the weather was always calm. Hence the phrase 
 halcyon days, halcyon weather. Gf. Shakespeare, 1 Henry VI. 
 I. ii. 131 : — " Expect Saint Martin's summer, halcyon days." For 
 a full discussion of this halcyon superstition, see Max MuUer. 
 
 1331. An orchestral part . . . lull. As in an orchestra each 
 instrument contributes its separate part to a general harmony. 
 This exquisitely subtle imagination of the music of silence De 
 Quincey may have borrowed from Coleridge's Ancient Mariner, 
 a poem which he knew not how to rate too highly : — 
 
 " No voice, but oh ! the silence sank 
 Like music in my beart." 
 
 1332. The first timid trembling of the dawn. This picture re- 
 minds one of Dante's picture of the " trembling " dawn in the first 
 Canto of the Purgatorio, 115-117 : — 
 
 " L' alba vinoeva 1' era mattutina 
 Che fuggia innanzi, si che di lontano 
 Conobbi U tremolar della marina." 
 
NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 177 
 
 " The dawn prevailed against the morning mist 
 That fled before it, so that from afar 
 Mine eyes beheld the trembling of the sea." 
 
 1336, Equable transpaxency. The mist was everywhere uni- 
 formly transparent. 
 
 1343. Liinited atmosphere. Science teUs us that the atmosphere 
 extends to about five or six hundred miles from the earth's surface. 
 But though we may know this intellectually, yt^ still /««/, as we 
 felt in childhood, that there are continuous "fields of air" 
 traversing the whole space between the earth's surface and the 
 throne of God. For an exquisitely touching account of these 
 " thoughts of infancy " in the child De Quincey, see the Auto- 
 Uographical Sketches (Masson's edition of the Works, vol. i. 42, 
 47), — " A vault seemed to open in the zenith of the far blue sky, 
 a shaft which ran up for ever. I, in spirit, rose as if on billows 
 that also ran up the shaft for ever ; and the billows seemed to 
 pursue the throne of God ; but that also ran before us and fied 
 away continually, and the flight and the pursuit seemed to go 
 on for ever and ever." ..." Lsaw through the wide central field 
 of the window, where the glass was uncoloured, white, fleecy clouds 
 sailing on the azure depths of the sky ; were it but a fragment of 
 a hint of such a cloud, immediately under the flash of my sorrow- 
 haunted eye, it grew and shaped itself into visions of beds with 
 white lawny curtains, and in the beds lay sick children, dying 
 children, that were tossing in anguish, and weeping clamorously 
 for death. God, for some mysterious reason, could not suddenly 
 release them from their pain, but he suffered the beds, as it 
 seemed, to rise steadUy through the clouds, steadily the beds 
 ascended into the chambers of the air, steadily also His arms 
 descended from the heavens, that He and His young children, 
 whom in Palestine once and for ever He had blessed, though they 
 must pass steadily through the dreadful chasm of separation, 
 might yet meet the sooner." 
 
 1348. Every chamber in their father's house. " In my Father's 
 house are many mansions " (John xiv. 2). 
 
 1349. Sabbatic yision, i.e. vision of rest. The Hebrew Sabbath 
 (Saturday) was the day of resi^ on which it was unlawful to toU. 
 
 1351. To the sandals of God, to the feet of God. Cf. Tennyson, 
 The Passing of Arthur : — 
 
 " For so the whole round world is every way 
 Bound by gold chains about the feet of God." 
 
 De Quincey, in this sublime piece of poetic Anthropo- 
 morphism {i.e. picturing God in Tnan's image), naturally represents 
 the divinity (the God of the Bible) as wearing oriental sandals. 
 The whole paragraph is a fine example of De Qoincey's impas- 
 
 M 
 
i;8 NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 sioned prose or prose poetry. The typercritical might possibly 
 object to the want of harmony in the introduction of the jest about 
 the " villain of a schoolmaster." Such faults of taste, if faults they 
 be, are common in De Quincey's writings. The "villain of a 
 schoolmaster " has always been a butt for the sarcasms of men of 
 letters. 
 
 1358. Ten years of experience. For about this time De Quincey 
 had been making repeated journeys between London and the 
 Lake country. 
 
 1360. I pretend to no presence of mind. In a short article, re- 
 printed in vol. xiv. of Masson's edition of the Works, De Quincey 
 has glorified this mental quality, in which he here confesses 
 himself deficient. 
 
 1363. Like some guilty weight of dark unfathomed remembrances. 
 In part iii. of the Confessions {The Padns of Opivrni), De Quincey 
 has the same similitude. He is speaking of the horror of-some 
 of the dreams caused by the inordinate use of opium. He 
 fancied himself, in his dream, to have the power to decide the 
 issue of some great event. ..." I had the power if I could 
 raise myself to will it : and yet again had not the power, for the 
 weight of twenty Atlantics was upon me, or the oppression of. 
 inexpiable guilt." "Dark unfathomed" is an echo of Gray's 
 Elegy, "The dark unfathomed caves of ocean." 
 
 1364-5. The signal is flying for action. A metaphor from naval 
 warfare. A flag is hoisted on the admiral's ship as a signal to 
 begin the battle. 
 
 1367. I see its total evolution. I see its complete develop- 
 ment. 
 
 1368. Radix, Latin, root. Notice here De Quincey repeats in 
 other words a single thought, till there can be no possible mis- 
 take as to the meaning. Here he employs three metaphorical 
 expressions to denote a single thought. We have a fourth meta- 
 phor in the concluding words of the paragraph, with the same 
 significance. See De Quincey's Essay on Style, Part I., p. 139 
 (Masson). 
 
 1377. Bespoke, ordered beforehand, i.e. to be built. Of. Merchant 
 of Venice, III. i. 130 : — "Go, Tubal, fee me an officer ; hespealc 
 him a fortnight before.'' 
 
 1380. The wrong side of the road, i.e. the right side. The " rule 
 of the road" in England enjoins all wheeled vehicles to keep to 
 the left. 
 
 1392. Quartering. See note on The Glory of Motion, line 315. 
 
 1393. The separate links of the anticipation. " The entire ex- 
 pansion of the series." 
 
 1397. Under this steady, etc. Notice with what art De Quincey 
 recurs to the sound of the approaching wheels at the heginning of 
 
NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 179 
 
 each paragraph. The rest of the paragraphs heighten the excite- 
 ment by the suspense of the catastrophe. 
 
 1405. Maniacal, "maniacal" and "demoniac" are favourite 
 words with De Quincey — characteristically so. 
 
 1405. Could I not seize the reins ? Surely the answer must be 
 that he could. _ Even if it had been impossible to waken the 
 driver (which in itself is unbelievable), or to take the reins from 
 his hands, he might have pulled up the horses by seizing the rein's 
 in front of the coachman's hands. That De Quincey had no 
 lack of skni in the management of horses he has himself told us. 
 In spite of the various excuses oflfered for his own powerlessness 
 to act, we cannot but feel that if the incident ever occurred 
 exactly as narrated here, not only the sleepy driver and guard, 
 nor the careless lover in the gig, but De Quincey's " opium 
 shattered self" would have been responsible had any disaster 
 resulted. 
 
 1414. Unhorse me, i.e. unhorse, I hid you. This "ethical" use 
 of the dative is common in old English, and several instances from 
 Skakespeare and the Bible will readily occur : " knock me at 
 the gate," " whip me these honest knaves," "he plucked me ope 
 his doublet," " saddle me the ass," etc. etc. 
 
 1416. Charlemagne. Charles the Great, first head of the Holy 
 Roman Empire (742-814). De Quincey does not appear to have 
 had any particular statue in his mind. He alludes to two eques- 
 trian statues here — one of bronze, the other (Charlemagne's) of 
 marble. 
 
 1419. Industry in a taxed cart. One way of raising revenue is to 
 tax the carts of farmers, tradesmen, etc. Such taxation, being on 
 industry, not on luxury, is often held to be objectionable. 
 
 1426-7. My frail opium-shattered self. See note on line 1405. 
 
 1430. From the accident that I have mentioned. One of the 
 singular combination of accidents. See line 1112 above. 
 
 1443. The character of a cathedral aisle. We shall see how this 
 resemblance between the avenue of trees and a cathedral aisle 
 takes shape in the Dream Fugue, and becomes actually a " mighty 
 minster." 
 
 1446. Gothic aisle. It was once fancied that Gothic architecture 
 was a direct imitation of the configuration of trees and forests. 
 This, however, by Kuskin and others, has been shown to have 
 been a mistake. 
 
 1446. Eeedy, i.e. frail as a reed. 
 
 1461. The shout of Achilles. The reference is to the XVIIIth 
 book of Homer's Iliad. The passage has been translated by 
 Tennyson : — 
 
 " From wall to dyke he stept, he stood, nor joined 
 The Achseans — honouring his wise mother's word — 
 
i8o NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 There standing, shouted, and Pallas far away 
 Called ; and a boundless panic shook the foe. 
 For like the clear voice when a trumpet shrills, 
 So rang the clear voice of .dEakides ; 
 And when the brazen cry of iEakides 
 Was heard among the Trojans, all their hearts 
 Were troubled, and the full-maned horses whirl'd 
 The chariots backward, knowing grief at hand ; 
 And sheer-astounded were the charioteers 
 To see the dread, unweariable fire 
 That always o'er the great Peleion's head 
 Bum'd, for the bright-eyed goddess made it bum. 
 Thrice from the dyke he sent his mighty shout. 
 Thrice backward reeled the Trojans and allies ; 
 And there and then twelve of their noblest died 
 Among their spears and chariots." 
 
 1464. All Asia militant. See the preceding quotation. The 
 Trojans represented Asia ; the Greeks, Europe. The phrase is an 
 echo of the phrase " the Church militant " in. the Prayer-hook. 
 
 1470. All had been done . . . could be done. See above, note on 
 line 1405. 
 
 1490. Fiercest of translations. " Translation " here used in its 
 first sense of "carrying across." Latin, irans, across; hdwm 
 carried. The patriarch Enoch, who was carried into heaven 
 without dying, was said to have been tra/mlated. 
 
 1490. Without time for a prayer. According to the reasoning in 
 the first paragraph of The Vision, this circumstance would not 
 really add to the terror of such a death. 
 
 1498. Nations buying and selling it for a shilling. When a man 
 enlists for a soldier, he receives from the recruiting sergeant a 
 shilling : thus when a man enlists he is said to " take the Queen's 
 shilling." 
 
 1518. Slewed him round. Slew, written also slue, to turn roimd. 
 
 1535. Bising to a fence, as of a horse springing up in the act of 
 leaping a fence ; a technical term in horsemanship. 
 
 1555. "Father which art in heaven." The iMiguage is here 
 adopted from the Lord's prayer {Pater Nosier). 
 
 1556. Faster than ever mill-race. 'Among the many modifica- 
 tions of the original wording made by De Quincey in revising 
 these paragraphs for the reprint in his Collected Works may be 
 noted, as particularly characteristic, his substitution of the 
 present sentence for the original form, which was, " We ran past 
 them faster than ever mill-race in our inexorable flight." His 
 sensitiveness to fit sound, at such a moment of wild rapidity, 
 suggested the inversion.' (Masson,) 
 
 1556. Mill-race. Race here the current of water that turns 8 
 mill. 
 
 1561. Swingle-bar. The swingle-bar is a wooden rod to whicl 
 
NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. i8i 
 
 the traces are attached: in a "four-in-hand" there are two 
 swingle-bars, one behind the second pair (the wheelers), the other 
 between the two front horses (the leaders) and the wheelers. The 
 swingle-bar here referred to is the latter. 
 
 15^2. Off-wheel, the right wheel. One mounts a horse from 
 the left, and so the left side is called the near-side, the right side 
 is the off-side. So also with regard to the wheels of a carriage 
 and a team of horses. 
 
 1562. Which stood rather . . . near-wheel. The description is not 
 quite accurate : the wheels of the gig must have been " parallel " 
 to each other, otherwise they would not revolve. De Quincey 
 means that the gig was not perfectly at right angles with the mail 
 coach ; the gig-horse was now facing somewhat obliquely, with his 
 head partly turned in the direction in which the mail was going ; 
 hence the off-wheel (the right) of the gig would be closer to the 
 near side of the mail than the off- wheel would be. It must be 
 remembered that the mail coach was on the right side of the 
 road. 
 
 1570. Here was the map of the passion. ' This sentence, " here 
 was the map," etc., is an insertion in the reprint ; and one ob- 
 serves how artistically it causes the due pause between the 
 horror as still in rush of transaction and the backward look at 
 the wreck when the crash was past.' {Masson.) 
 
 1574. Cany, fragile as cane. Cf. "reedy" above. 
 
 1574. Torsion. Twisting, wrenching. Latin torqmre, to twist. 
 
 1576. Sympathised with human horror. This is an instance of 
 what has been called the " pathetic fallacy." 
 
 1597. Death the crowned phantom. Milton, in Paradise Lost, ii. 
 665, et sq., describes the "phantom " Death : — 
 
 " What seemed his head 
 The likeness of a kingly crown had on." 
 
 Let the student carefully observe the evolution of this magni- 
 ficent sentence : notice how much is gained by keeping the 
 subject almost to the last. Notice, too, the reiteration (the figure 
 called Epanaphora), — "from the silence," "from the pathetic," 
 etc., " from the manly," and then, " suddenly as from the 
 woods," etc., "suddenly as from the chambers," etc., "suddenly 
 as from the ground," etc., — a triple repetition in each case. 
 
 1605. Swept it into my dreams for ever. These dreams are the 
 subject of the following Dream Fugue. 
 
i82 NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 III. DREAM FUGUE. 
 
 Quotation from Pa/radise Lost, xi. 558-663 : — 
 
 4. Volant touch, flying touch ; Latin, volare, to fly ; fingers 
 moving rapidly over the keys of the organ. 
 
 6. The resonant fugue. "Fugue," Latin fuga, flight. A 
 fugue is a very elaborate kind of musical composition. It is divided 
 into several parts, each of which is always pursuing the other. 
 " The theme is first given out by one voice or part, and then, 
 while that pursues its way, it is repeated by another at the 
 interval of a fifth or fourth, and so on, until all the parts have 
 answered one by one, continuing their several melodies, and 
 interweaving them in one complex progressive whole, in which 
 the theme is often lost and reappears." This is Webster's de- 
 finition, and is perhaps as intelligible as any other could be to one 
 unacquainted with the science of European music. The " fugue " 
 is treated by Browning in his remarkable poem Master Hughes of 
 Saxe Ootha, which the student had better consult. After the 
 above definition it will not be difficult to understand the meaning 
 of the title which De Quincey has given to this " Phantasy." There 
 is the single theme, repeated with alterations over and over again, 
 one part swiftly pursuing another, the theme often lost, only to 
 reappear ; there are the several " melodies " (each section a 
 melody) " interwoven in one complex progressive whole." The 
 general result of the whole, too, is to produce an emotional effect 
 through the medium of " impassioned prose " such as may be 
 produced by the "fugue" through the medium of an elaborate 
 arrangement of musical sounds. 
 
 Tumultnosissimamente. Italian, "most tumultuously." In 
 scores of music the directions given to singer or player as to the 
 expression he is intended to throw into the piece, whether soft 
 or loud, quick or slow, are almost always in Italian. Of this 
 particular direction Masson remarks, " the prefixed direction 
 ' tumultnosissimamente ' rather repels one, as too suggestive oi 
 artificiality and the flourished baton of the leader of an 
 orchestra." 
 
 1608. Thy averted signs. The meaning of this phrase is ex- 
 plained in the foot-note. It must be remembered that the inci- 
 dent related in the latter part of The Vision of Svdden Death 
 is the theme of the Fugue. 
 
 1611. Woman's Ionic form. Of the three modes of Greek archi- 
 tecture, Doric, Corinthian, Ionic, the last has generally been con. 
 sidered to excel in lightness and gracefulness, in which qualities 
 the female human figure surpasses the male. 
 
NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 183 
 
 1617. Like a shrivelling scroll, etc. Compare Sir Walter 
 Scott's paraphrase of the old Latin hymn, Bies Irae : — 
 
 "When shrivelling like a parched scroll, 
 The flaming heavens together roll." 
 
 — The Lay of The Last Minstrel, V. xxxi. 
 
 1621. The gorgeous mosaic of dreams. Mosaic, derived from 
 the Greek Mouo-eios, " pertaining to the Muses," a particular kind 
 of art- work consisting of inlaying small pieces of coloured glass, 
 stone, etc., so as to form a picture or design. The adjective 
 " gorgeous " exactly describes the effect of such art-productions.^ 
 De Quincey, in the Confessions, and also in the first part of the 
 Mail Coach, has described the splendidly spectacular character 
 of his dreams. 
 
 1623. What aileth thee. A Biblical phrase, " what troubleth 
 thee so that thy deep rolling clouds," etc. Cf. " What aileth thee, 
 sea, that thou fleddest ? thou Jordan, that thou wast driven 
 back?" (Psalm cxiv. 5.) Notice how instinctively impassioned 
 English prose adopts the phraseology of the Bible. 
 
 1624. After forty years. Thirty years would be nearer the 
 truth, according to the date which De Quincey has assigned to 
 the Vision. 
 
 I. 
 
 1626. It is summer. The following quotation from the Confes- 
 sions will explain the appearance of summer in this dream : — " I 
 find it impossible to banish the thought of death when I am 
 walking alone in the endless days of summer." (Works, iii. 444.) 
 
 1627. And on the ocean. Eemembering the words in the Fmom, 
 " obliquely ... we were nearing the sea," we shall understand 
 what brings the ocean into the dieam. 
 
 1628. Savannah, a great plain of grass. Gk. aa^avov, a cloth. 
 1628. The unknown lady. The lady De Quincey had seen from 
 
 the box of the mail coach, and who forms the central figure in 
 each part of the Bream. Fugue. 
 
 1630. A fairy pinnace . . . English three-decker. As the locale of 
 the dieam is now the sea, the " reedy " gig is naturally converted 
 into a " fairy pinnace," and the Royal Mail Coach into one of his 
 Majesty's ships of war. Three-decker was the name given to 
 the largest ships in the navy in the days when ships of war 
 were built of wood, and not, as now, mainly of iron. 
 
 1633. Chase. Here a place suitable for hunting. Many places 
 in England have the name " Chase," e.g. Chevy Chase. 
 
 1634. Takes her pleasure. Cf. Psalm civ. 26 :— " There go the 
 ships, and there is that leviathan whom thou hast made to take his 
 BftsiMJM therein." . „ , , 
 
 1635. From the rising to the setting sun, ^.e. trom the furthest 
 
1 84 NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 east to the furthest west. A touch of De Quince/s almost ex- 
 cessive patriotism. 
 
 1641. Corymbi. Greek Kopu/iPos, a cluster of fruit or flowers. 
 
 1660. "Sail on the weather-beam." A ship is approaching on 
 the weather-beam, i.e. in front on the windward side. 
 
 II. 
 
 1663. Gathering wrath. Gradually growing: the epithet is 
 common in conjunction with "storm," "tempest," and here 
 " wrath " is used metaphorically for " storm." 
 
 1665. Arches and long cathedral aisles. See The Vision of 
 Sudden Death, line 1446, " the umbrageous trees . . . meeting high 
 overhead, gives to it the character of a cathedral aisle." In the 
 fourth part of the Fugue we have the same Gothic architecture 
 again. 
 
 1666. Quarrel, the bolt of a cross-bow, a square-headed arrow. 
 Low L^tin, quadrellus, from quadrus a square. The word is 
 practically obsolete now, but was common in old English, e.g. 
 in Chaucer. Spenser uses it in his Faerie Queene, xi. 33, " Dis- 
 charged of his bow and deadly quarle." 
 
 1667. Frigate right athwart. The gig is now transformed into 
 a frigate, a small fighting vessel. It runs across the bows of the 
 three-decker. We remember the gig standing at right angles to 
 the mail coach. 
 
 1681. One hand clutched amongst the tackling. See the Fmo?t: 
 — " threw her arms wildly up to heaven, clutched at some vision- 
 ary object in the air." 
 
 1682. Blsing, sinking . . . praying. Gf. the Vision, "fainting, 
 praying, raving, despairing." The same words are used again in 
 the Fugue, just as in a musical composition the same " phrase " is 
 repeated again and again. 
 
 1684 Fiery crests, crests fierce as fire ; a bold figure. 
 
 III. 
 
 1689. Sweet funeral bells, etc. Notice how the third part follows 
 upon the second without the break of a period. It is the same 
 sentence, but the movement is entirely diflferent. Here agaia is 
 an attempt to imitate the effect of music, in which often one 
 passage glides imperceptibly into another widely different in 
 melody and expression. Had De Quincey continued his musical 
 directions as in the twrnultuosissiinamiente, he would have written 
 over the latter part of Section II. fortissimo (very loud), acce- 
 leromdo (quickening), agitato (agitated) ; and over the beginning 
 part of Section III. jgicmissmm^yerj soft), adagio (slowly). 
 
NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 185 
 
 1694-5. Some great festival. Perhaps the fact that the pair in the 
 gig appeared to be lovers suggested the idea of the marrictge festival, 
 or perhaps the "great festival" is connected with the thanks- 
 giving festival for the victory of Waterloo. The last is most 
 likely, as it would form the connecting link between Sections 
 ni. and IV. 
 
 ' 1700. Vainly I shouted. See De Quince/s shout to the couple 
 in the gig from the top of the mail coach. 
 
 1V07. One white marble arm. Again the " clutching arm " of 
 the Vision. 
 
 1710. Tossing . . . clutching. Notice the repetition of this 
 "phrase." 
 
 1719. Blighted dawn. Her blighted youth: the bells "wail 
 over the dead that die before the dawn." 
 
 1721. Died before the dawn. Again this beautiful metaphor is 
 repeated. 
 
 1722. The treachery of earth our mother. Those who have 
 perished in disasters for which nature alone is responsible, such 
 as earthquakes, storms at sea, etc. 
 
 1722. But suddenly, etc. The musical direction here should be 
 forte (loud), crescendo (increasing), and then fortissimo (very loud). 
 The Fugue rushes from the pathos of the perishing girl to the 
 glory of Waterloo, from lowly death to triumphant victory. 
 
 1726. " Hush ! " I said. Again pianissimo (very soft), until •' or 
 else, oh heavens,'' etc., where the passage ends in a magnificent 
 crash of music from the " unstopped full-organ." 
 
 IV. 
 
 1734. Crowned with laurel. Here the dream carries us back to 
 the Olory of Motion, and Going down with Victory. See page 76. 
 
 1738. A grandnesB that measured, etc. To which centuries of 
 history could find no parallel. 
 
 1741. Te Deums. See note on line 47 (Olory of Motion). 
 
 1747. Delay. The dream mixes the two journeys in one, — the 
 delay at Manchester in the Vision, with the journey recorded in 
 Going down with Victory. 
 
 1750. Waterloo and recovered Christendom. De Quincey regards, 
 characteristically, the great Napoleonic war as a struggle between 
 Infidelity and Christianity, the French Kevolution and Napoleon- 
 ism, representing Infidelity. At Waterloo, Christianity triumphed. 
 
 1752, Our leaders' heads, the heads of the front horses. 
 
 1757-8. And the darkness comprehended it. A Biblical echo, 
 John i. 5, " And the light shineth in darkness ; and the darkness 
 comprehendeth it not." 
 
 1759. A mighty minster. The image of the Gothic cathedral 
 
 N 
 
i86 NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 again. It was about two hours after midnight that the mail- 
 coach in the Vision entered upon that part of the road where the 
 arching of the trees resembled the " aisle of a cathedral." 
 
 1767. The secret word, "Waterloo and recovered Christen- 
 dom." 
 
 1770. Aerial galleries . . . choir. In Gothic cathedrals the 
 organ is often placed upon a screen dividing the nave or westward 
 portion of the church from the choir or eastward portion. In a 
 smaller church the choir is generally called the chancel. 
 
 1770. Every station of advantage, every place which afforded a 
 view. 
 
 1771. Fretwork, the elaborate carving characteristic of Gothic 
 architecture. 
 
 1772. Traceries, probably the triforium, or arched walk above 
 the arches between the nave and the aisle, and below the clere- 
 storey windows. See Eickman's Gothic Architectv/re, plate to face 
 page 153. "Tracery" generally means the elaborate designs 
 formed by the interweaving of the stone muUions in a Gothic 
 window. This is possibly the meaning here ; but the ornamented 
 arches of the triforium seem more natural. 
 
 1772. WMte-robed choristers, clad in white surplices, the proper 
 vestment of choristers. 
 
 1779. And of their chanting was no end. Another Biblical echo. 
 
 1782. St Paul's, London. Old St Paul's Church was destroyed 
 by the great fire in 1666. A part of the cathedral, "Paul's Walk," 
 was used as a public place for the sale of merchandise, and as a 
 lounge for fine gentlemen. Paul's Walk figures more than once 
 in Elizabethan comedy. 
 
 1783. Necropolis, burying-grouud. Greek, veKpus, a corpse ; 
 iroAis, a city ; a city of the dead. 
 
 1793. Sarcophagi, a stone tomb. Greek, (rapKo<payos, i.e. flesh- 
 consuming. In Greece tombs were often made of a kind of lime- 
 stone which was supposed to consume the corpse. Now, of course, 
 the idea of flesh-consuming is quite lost. 
 
 1797. Bas-reliefs, sculpture whose figures do not stand out far 
 from the ground or plane on which they are formed. Bas is from 
 Italian basso, low ; relief is from Italian rilevare, to raise up. 
 
 1799-80. Nature . . . sweet oblivion of flowers, the battle-fields 
 were covered with flowers, so that no trace of the former carnage 
 remained. 
 
 1805. Into the secrets of forests, into the recesses of untrodden 
 forests ; hence " secrets." 
 
 1808. Oftentimes. De Quincey in a quite peculiar way affects 
 this pleonasm. A search in his works would probably fail 
 to discover more than a very few instances of the commoner 
 form " often." 
 
NOTES ON THE ENGLISH MAIL-COACH. 187 
 
 1809. Cr6oi to Trafalgar. Battle of Crdci, 1346: battle of 
 Trafalgar, 1805. 
 
 1814. A female child. Here again, in a new form, the " lady " 
 of the Vision reappears. 
 
 1822. Eanaom for Waterloo. " Shall thy death be the price paid 
 for the victory of Waterloo ? " 
 
 1823. Tidings of great joy to every people. Another Biblical 
 echo, " And the angel said unto them, Fear not, for behold I bring 
 you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people." (Luke 
 ii. 10). 
 
 1826. A Dying Trumpeter. De Quincey, in his Introduction to 
 vol. vi. of the 1854 edition (Author's Postscript in vol. xiii. of 
 Masson's edition), says, "The incident of the dying trumpeter, who 
 rises from a marble bas-relief, and carries a marble trumpet to his 
 marble lips for the purpose of warning the female infant, was 
 douhtless secretly suggested by my own imperfect effort to seize 
 the guard's horn and to blow a warning blast." 
 
 1832. Aboriginal silence. Silence, as the silence that reigned 
 before the universe was created. 
 
 1838. Were frozen to a bas-relief. This incident was probably 
 " secretly suggested " by the remembrance of the young man of 
 the gig, " who trembled not, nor shivered. His was the steadiness 
 of agitation frozen into rest by horror." (The Vision of Sudden 
 Death, line 1578.) 
 
 1843. Carried temptation into the graves, tempted the dead to 
 rise from their graves. 
 
 1850. A crimson glory, a glorious light, like the effulgence that 
 is said to surround the head of a glorified saint. Compare 
 Tennyson, In Memoriam, Ixvii : — 
 
 " When on my bed the moonlight falls, 
 I know that in thy place of rest 
 By that broad water of the west, 
 There comes a glory on the walls." 
 
 1857. The horns of the altar. The altar of burnt-ofiferinginthe 
 Jewish Tabernacle had horns overlaid with brass at the four cor- 
 ners of it. SeeGenmsxxxviii.2. Tothese horns Adonijah, "fearing 
 because of Solomon, arose and went, and caught hold of the 
 horns of the altar " (Kings i. 50). " Clinging to the horns of the 
 altar " here means merely " clinging to the altar for protection." 
 
 1858. Sinking, rising, etc. See note on line 1682. 
 
 1861. Shadow of that dreadful being. "Death, the crowned 
 phantom." See the Vision, line 1597. 
 
 1863. Her better angel. Her guardian angel : an allusion to 
 the belief that each man or woman is accompanied through 
 life by two spirits, one an angel of darkness, who tempts to sin, 
 the other, an angel of light, the better angel. 
 
 1866. Which, i.e. deliverance. 
 
1 88 NOTES ON THE ENOLISH MAIL-COACH. 
 
 In. this section the Fugue closes in a rapturous outburst of 
 triumphant music. 
 
 1873. Choir and anti-choir. De Quincey probably means both 
 sides of the choir. The choristers in cathedrals sit in stalls 
 placed north and south along the walls of the choir and on 
 either side of it. Those on one side are called Decani, those on 
 the other Gamtoris. He may, however, mean " choir and nave." 
 In some cathedrals some of the choristers sit in the nave. 
 
 1877. Sanctus. Latin, "holy." The Sanciws (Holy, Holy, Holy, 
 Lord God of Hosts) is a hymn sung at one part of the Catholic 
 " Mass," and also in the Anglican " Communion Service." 
 
 1878. Oh, darkness of the grave. . . . Festivals of Death. At 
 this point in the dream the graves open and the dead arise to 
 join in the festival of thanksgiving. 
 
 1884. Quick and the dead, the liwng and the dead. " And he 
 shall come again with glory, to judge both the quick and the 
 dead." {Nicene Creed, as translated in the English Prayer-Book.) 
 
 1885. Together that sang, i.e. that sang together. 
 
 1886. The hosts of jubilation, the rejoicing hosts. 
 
 1892. Having hid his face. Napoleon and the French were 
 victorious for a season, and at that time, according to De Quincey, 
 God hid his face. 
 
 1894. Campo Santo. (Italian) Holy Field ; see line 1782 and 
 foot-note. 
 
 1900. A thousand times, etc. Notice how in this last magni- 
 ficent sentence the separate aspects of the dream are brought 
 together. 
 
 1902. The secret word, the news of victory. See line 1767 above. 
 1904. Sinking, rising, etc. See note on line 1682. 
 1908. With one sling of his victorious arm. Milton's Paradise 
 Lost, X. 653 :— 
 
 " At one sling 
 
 Of thy victorious arm, well-pleasing Son, 
 Both Sin and Death, and yawning Grave, at last 
 Through Chaos hurled, obstruct the mouth of Hell 
 For ever, and seal up his ravenous jaws.' 
 
 1910. Emblazon . . . endless resurrections of his love. Testify 
 through thy deliverance that his love is everlasting and is mani- 
 fested again and again. Emblanon, to paint armorial bearings on 
 a shield, which armorial bearings proclaim the family, etc. of 
 the warrior ; then, as a secondary meaning, to testify generally, 
 in a striking manner. 
 
 PEINTKD BY HEILL AND OOHPANY, EDINEDKGH.