This John's Brook, by the way, is the shortest route up Mount Tahawus, the entire distance from the 'Flats' being only ten miles. As the greater number of visitors, however, desire to see the Au Sable Pondsen passant, no path has been 'bushed out,' and that mode of ascent is practicable only for hunters or woodsmen familiar with the region.
At length a 'wind blew out of the north, chilling and killing' that terrible haze, and rendering the prospect of a distant view at least possible. Tahawus loomed up before the mind's eye clear and majestic. Such an invitation being irresistible, the little party were soon ready for their journey, said party consisting of Elsie, E. B. C., and Lucy D., with three guides—an old pioneer, short, slight, weather-beaten, and sun-browned, a younger aspirant for scouting honors, tall, handsome, and athletic, and a novice, making his first ascent of the kingly mountain, but offering a pair of broad shoulders that promised to do good service in the bearing of the necessary packs. Each guide carried his own axe, blanket, and provisions, and, in addition, his share of our united baggage, which consisted of a thick Mexican blanket, four shawls, two heavy and two lighter, a woollen cap, a water-proof cloak with hood, oneovercoat, two loaves of bread, a small piece of salt pork, a little can of butter, two or three pounds of maple sugar, a little bag of cornmeal, two pounds of crackers, the same quantity of chocolate, some tea, a small tin pail, a frying pan, three tin saucers, three knives, forks, and spoons. A pint of brandy and the same of whiskey were carried in flasks to meet emergencies of cold or weariness, and a canteen for water was also taken to serve as a pitcher, and to bear that refreshing element to heights where no springs could be hoped for. It will be seen that we had reduced our appliances to the smallest quantity compatible with proper warmth and nourishment, and the possibility of being detained out several days, perhaps, by stress of weather. We had at first thought india-rubber blankets indispensable, but having been advised against their use as conducive to rheumatism, and, besides, finding them difficult to procure, we started without, and certainly never missed them. The garments worn on such an excursion should, as far as practicable, all be woollen, and the shoes moderately thick, but not too heavy. A light umbrella will be found a useful addition in case of sudden rain or very hot sun. Each person will carry such toilet arrangements as he or she may deem necessary, only let them be as light as possible, every ounce on such a tramp soon becoming a matter of serious consequence.
We left the farmhouse at half past six in the morning, and drove in the wagon as far as the road was good, three miles, namely, to the last cabin on the way to the Au Sable Ponds. There our guides shouldered their packs, and our party was increased by the addition of 'Uncle David,' another ancient pioneer, who was to row us up the Lower Pond in a large Albany-built boat kept by him for that purpose. He talks of building a moderate-sized tenement at the lower end of the lake, for the accommodation of travellers. I doubt not it would be well patronized.
Now, our Diogenes does not use the lantern of his wit so much to seek out a thoroughly honest man, as to discover the honesty and good will pertaining to each individual specimen of thegenus homo. The consequence is a series of pleasant results, people usually showing him whatever of good may be in them, and esteeming him proportionately. As Uncle David was discussing the amount of furniture required for his intended caravansary, he paused to ask if feather beds would be thought a necessity. Diogenes replied that 'every goose needing feathers could bring them on his own back,' which shafttookimmensely, as proved by the loud guffaws and low chuckles that echoed through the beautiful forest whose branches shaded us from the August sun.Hisreputation as a wit of the first water was firmly established, and every pun and jest thereafter succeeding was crowned by the halo of this first success.
The four miles to the Pond were speedily and gayly accomplished, and there we took boat to cross the lake, Uncle David rowingus, and the good-humored, broad-shouldered 'novice,' the scow to be used for our return, in case we were not back at the time then supposed probable. 'Bill's' rowing was the source of much merriment, the strokes proving powerful, but the course amusingly devious. So little does it take to entertain people in the woods, who have laid aside grim behavior and questioning philosophies, and have for the nonce become veritable children of nature, knowing that this earth is beautiful and that God is good, and caring for little else.
The Lower Au Sable Pond is from one to two miles long, its banks are craggy, steep, and high, the general impression grand and somewhat desolate. The dam, by raising the water, has destroyed many of the trees along the shore, and filled the upper portionwith driftwood, which blocks the channel and is altogether unsightly. There is a winter road, a mile in length, cut through the forest from the Lower to the Upper Pond. This road is so overgrown that in summer it is a mere pathway. The Upper Pond reached, we again embarked in a light boat, our young athlete rowing. Uncle David had quitted us at the upper lake. This row was not necessary, the path to Tahawus, or MountMercy, as our guides called it, turning off at a right angle from the lower end of the upper lake, but was taken to show us the inexpressibly lovely Upper Pond, and transport us to certain bark shanties presumed to offer excellent facilities for dining purposes. The lake is about two miles long, and one broad. Its shores are gently sloping, and wooded with splendid trees of the primeval forest, beech, birch, maple, and spruce. The soil is excellent, and the wild flowers and mosses are luxuriant and abundant. The steep rocks circling the Lower Pond are visible through a cleft, the singular, jagged ridge known as the Gothic Mountains is in full view, the sharp peak of the Haystack lifts its bare top far into the skies, the North River Mountain crowns the south, and graceful waving lines of wooded hill complete the circle; the clear water gives back the most wonderful reflections, and those 'ladies of the forest,' the white birches, could ask no more transparent mirror. There is nothing to mar the effect of the whole, no driftwood, no burnt patches, no ragged-looking clearing—all is harmonious and entirely satisfactory.
Our dinner was a light one. Indeed, our experience was, that while we required a substantial breakfast and supper, but little was needed in the middle of the day, and that little better cold than warm.
Returning in the boat to the end of the lake, we struck into the pathway to Tahawus, a track of hunters, marked by sable traps; and here began work in earnest. The pioneer took the lead, sweating and grumbling under his load, for the day was warm, and the sun but little over an hour past the meridian. Fortunately, he was not a very rapid walker, making only from two to two and a half miles per hour, so there was no danger of fatigue to any of the party, except to our Diogenes, who measures weariness by time and not by miles, walking more easily eight miles in two hours than in four.
On and up we went, ascending a gentle declivity until we came to a brook said to be two miles from the boat landing. There we cooled, rested, and drank of the fresh, clear water, before commencing the steep ascent of the Bartlett Mountain, a spur of the Haystack, needful to be crossed before reaching the actual foot of Tahawus. The ascent is some three quarters of a mile, and the descent on the other side about as far, but not nearly so steep or considerable. Thus, three and a half miles of walking, through a dense forest, with no view out except an occasional glimpse of the Haystack, the Skylight, or the side of Tahawus, brought us from the lake to the basin of the 'Mount Marcy stream.' The sun was still high in the heavens, and the bark shanties in the 'basin' having fallen in, rendering the construction of new ones imperatively necessary, we concluded to push on and build our camp somewhat nearer the top.
Descending the Bartlett Mountain, we made our first acquaintance with the renowned 'black fly' of the Adirondacs. We had heard so much of this pest, and seen so little of him, that we began to think his existence somewhat mythical, in short, a traveller's tale, invented by men to keep women from venturing beyond the well-beaten track of ordinary journeying. At this, our second halt, however, he assaulted us so vigorously that we were glad to take refuge in the smoke of asmudgeour guides had lost no time in making. For the benefit of the uninitiated, wemay here explain that a smudge is a fire of leaves or sticks slightly dampened to make a denser smoke, and intended as a safeguard against the attacks of black flies, midges, and mosquitoes, the two latter nuisances appearing in the evening, when the flies have finished their day's work. We saw the creatures, and found them somewhat troublesome (especially when, later in the day, they insisted upon spreading in with bread and butter), but suffered no pain or even inconvenience from their bite. This may have been owing to the lateness of the season, or to the non-inflammatory condition of our blood. Pests they are said to be, and doubtless are; but we think their general prevalence has been exaggerated, and they will be found chiefly beside watercourses, near lakes, and on damp, marshy ground. Fishermen are especially annoyed by them. If we intended to camp out for the mere pleasure of that kind of life, we would choose the season when the flies are supposed to have disappeared; but if we had any special object in view, such as the ascent of some particular mountain, or the sight of any remarkable natural feature of the land, we would not suffer ourselves, at any season, to be deterred by fear of the flies. Certain districts and certain conditions of atmosphere are doubtless especially favorable to their development, but the refuge, a thick smudge, is always at hand, or, if that be objected to, the traveller can try the recipe of an old hunter at the Adirondac Iron Works (where the creatures are said to be particularly rampant), namely, a coating of grease mixed with essence of penny-royal. We fear we would prefer the results of a vigorous attack to the use of this latter safeguard; but no one knows what he may do until he is well tried.
A short distance above the 'basin' we came to a final halt, in a splendid spruce forest, and near a little stream, that necessary accompaniment of a camping ground. It was feared lest the season was so far advanced that the spruce bark would no longer peel; but our tall young aspirant speedily tested the question by a few vigorous, well-directed strokes of his axe, and soon a great circle of bark, six feet high and nine feet in breadth, stood ready for use. Five other pieces, rather less in size, were found sufficient to furnish the sides and roof of our hut, which was made by cutting down two stout young saplings to supply the crotched stakes for the triangular front, and a third, to serve as ridge pole, extending back into the gently sloping bank of dry turf covered with dead spruce leaves. We were a mile and a half from the top of Tahawus, and had entered the great belt of spruce forest encircling the middle regions of the mountain; deciduous trees, with the exception of a few birches, had already been left behind. Round these stakes were arranged the great layers of bark, making a perfectly water-tight cabin, with open doorway, and large enough to give comfortable shelter to as many as four persons. The enclosed space was then covered with soft moss, and a thick layer of spruce twigs laid wrong side up. Over this spicy flooring we spread our gayly-striped blanket, and then sat down within our substantial wigwam to enjoy the blaze and crackle of the bright fire of great logs that had been kindled a few feet from the entrance.
A similar edifice, somewhat less imposing as to size and detail, was then constructed for the use of the guides. These operations employed our three men with their axes the greater part of two hours. Supper was the next matter under consideration, and was deftly prepared by 'Sid,' the aspirant, who proved himself an excellent cook. Our bill of fare consisted of hasty pudding (corn mush), eaten with butter and maple sugar (a dish for a king, and therefore well suited to sundry of the sovereign people, only Elsie and I,having no vote, cannot in any sense be called sovereign), bread and butter, crackers, and toast. Our guides, in addition, ate a slice of raw pork. Diogenes tried it, but pronounced it rather too much like candles to be very palatable south of Labrador or Kamtschatka.
Supper over, the sun had set, and the only work that remained for the twilight was the gathering of the fuel to feed the fires during the coming night.
Daylight faded away, the moon rose, and the gay chat by the fireside being exhausted, a silence, profound, and unbroken save by the crackling flames, fell upon the quiet, gray old forest. By and by the fire died down, and not a single sound could be heard, not the rustle of a bough, the tinkling of the stream, or the stirring of any forest creature. The moon sailed over the treetops, and a ghostly dreaminess lulled every sense, not to sleep, but to languid repose. Fatigue, thus far, there had been none, but physical and mental excitement plenty, and hence the writer's sleep during her first night of camping out lasted about one half hour. She watched the careful guides, how each one rose once during the short night to feed the fires, the elder one alert, the two younger drowsy and but half awake; her mind wandered with Humboldt and Bonpland to South America, with Dr. Kane to the Arctic zone, with Winthrop over the Rocky Mountains, with Dr. Livingstone to Central Africa, and with Father Huc to Tartary and Thibet. The busy, confined life of a city seemed an absurdity, the woods the only rational place for human beings to dwell in, and spruce boughs the only bed suitable to the dignity of mankind.
Morning broke, and with the dawn the guides were up preparing breakfast. Bill of fare: Salt pork, first parboiled to extract the brine, then drained off and fried crisp, bread and butter, toast, crackers, and tea, with maple sugar, but without milk. Our little tin pail served alike to draw water, boil hasty pudding, and make tea. But although the day had dawned and the sun risen, the light was feeble, and the elder guide shook his head ominously.
'Indeed,' said he, 'it won't be much use to go on up, for the Haystack looks so blue thatdurn'dhaze must have come back again, and you'll have no view fromMercyto-day.'
'Well, it can't be helped, but we'll try it anyhow!' was the unanimous response.
We were a mile and a half from the top of Tahawus, having already entered the great belt of spruce encircling the middle regions of the mountain, and having left behind all deciduous trees except a few birches. The forest here is especially grand, the original wood still remaining, tall, wide of girth, dark, and sturdy. The girdled trees standing near our camp looked at us reproachfully in the morning light; ten giants doomed to death to furnish a night's covering to six pigmies! Our fires, too, were they safe, or might they not run along the inflammable turf and perhaps destroy acres of beautiful, precious timber?
But time pressed, 'the dishes were washed,' and we must away. All the heavy articles were left in the camp, and nothing taken up with us except a light lunch, a canteen of water, and the shawls needed to protect against the winds on the top. The little stream crossed, the ascent began quite steeply. A half mile of walking brought us out of the wood, and to the foot of the great slide, a bare, sloping rock, some thousand feet in height. Up this slide, either on the rock, or beside it, through the bushes and the spruce trees, which soon become low and shrubby, leads the pathway, not difficult, but somewhat fatiguing, from its steepness. Indeed, the whole way up is so excellent one wonders so high a mountain can be ascended with so little exertion or actual climbing. In places, the moss issome, six inches thick, and the feet, worn with stony ways, sink into it as if there to find lasting repose; butExcelsioris the cry, and the top of the slide the next goal to be won.
Meantime the haze had been turning into mist, and great clouds were gathering on the bare, rocky head of the mountain. The slide passed, the path winds through dense, low spruce growth, and, the last steep cliffs gradually overcome, the extreme limit of tree vegetation (four thousand eight hundred feet) is passed, and the remaining rocky slope offers no growth except a few hardy plants, such as sandwort, grasses, and several varieties of moss and lichen.
The summit is broad, and, although in part composed of broken rocks, is quite compact in structure. Its general form is rounded and dome-like.
But the view?
Here we were among the clouds, the wind blowing freshly, and the mists sweeping past, obscuring every object below. In this wind lay our hope, and scarcely less in the mists, for they might be the means of dispersing the haze. There went a rift, a patch of blue sky—and there a bit of green mountain! Then again all was leaden, damp, and cold. We seemed to have reached the Ultima Thule, to be the sole living creatures in some far-away corner of an earth gone back to chaos and mysterious twilight. Again a break, and again appeared a stretch of dark fir-covered mountain tops, an avalanche-riven peak, a bright, green field, or a corner of some far-away blue water. This hide-and-go-seek between landscape and mist lasted some half hour, when the clouds all rolled away, and left us with bright sunlight and the most glorious view our eyes had ever rested upon. The extreme distance was still hazy, but the nearer wilderness of forest and mountain was wild and grand enough to have satisfied the most fastidious. The elder guide, who had stood some dozen times on the summit, missed the bits of Lake Champlain and some dim outlines of hills and waters that ought to have been visible, but we were quite content with the sharp ridge of the Haystack and its deep chasm, the bold and beautiful lines of the Gothic Mountains, the stern, scarred face of Moriah, the distant, still cloud-capped Dix's Peak, the pleasant valley of the Au Sable, the Camel's Hump, the Schroon Mountains, the Boreas Waters, Mud and Clear Ponds, the hills about Lake George, Mounts Seward and Sandanona, Lake Sanford, Mounts McIntire, McMartin, Golden, Whiteface, Bennet's Pond, the plains of North Elba, the Skylight, with its singular rock whence is derived its name, and an infinity of peaks of every possible form, all gathered about us as doing homage to the stately monarch, the comely and benignant giant, Tahawus.
The sun was warm, and, sheltered by a rock to screen us from the west wind, we found a single shawl all-sufficient covering. Diogenes produced from his capacious pocket sundry lemons, which, added to some maple sugar, a block of chocolate, and a few crackers, furnished a delightful repast. We had reached the top of the mountain about nine o'clock. By eleven the clouds again began to thicken, and grew so dark upon their under edges that we feared rain. McIntire had collected a murky company that threatened with the rumble of heavenly artillery. Wishing to descend the slide before a coming rain should render it slippery, we took a last look, and hastened away down the rocky slope, through the shrubby spruces, to the top of the slide, where great stones, flung down the bare, sloping rock, bounded and rebounded until they plashed into the marshy pool, one thousand feet below.
Stopping only long enough at our camp to gather up our 'traps,' and to inscribe its name, 'Tahawus,' with a tiny sketch from Elsie, and a chess problem from E. B. C., upon the'barked' side of a spruce, we hurried down to the 'Mount Marcy stream,' over the Bartlett Mountain, on to the Upper Pond. The thunder rumbled all around us, and we had several light showers. Just as we reached the lake, the storm burst in all its fury. By the aid of our shawls and umbrellas we managed to keep dry until a lull came and we could row to the bark shanties, where we purposed passing the night. It was only half past three, and we might have returned to the 'Flats' that evening, but we did not care to walk through the wet woods in the rain, and, besides, desired a still further acquaintance with the beautiful Upper Pond.
The three bark huts on the shore of the lake had been recently erected and used by a hunting and fishing party. They proved perfectly water tight, and a bright fire of green logs soon dried all dampness out of our garments. Our supper that night was quite elaborate, both pork and hasty pudding entering into its composition. The rain continued to descend, and pattered softly as we disposed ourselves to rest.
That repose was sweet and unbroken, save by a characteristic 'Te-he-he,' and 'Good morning, good morning!' uttered in the high but feeble voice of the elder guide as he came to mend the decaying fire. A reference to our watches showed the hour to be but one past midnight. It must have been a profound yearning for human sympathy that had induced our courteous and considerate guide thus to awaken us. Sleep, however, soon again took up her broken threads, and so firmly reknit their ravelled edges, that the web needed the morning dew and the approaching glories of a brilliant sunrise once more to break and give freedom to the prisoned senses.
Our pioneer, who loved every peak and pond in the neighborhood with the affection of a discoverer, took advantage of the charming morning to row us all round the lake, to show us the pretty inlet with its beaver dam, and help us gather the singular leaves of the pitcher plant, and the beautiful, fragrant white water lilies riding at anchor in the lucent stream.
We soon after took up our line of march for the Lower Pond, where we found 'Uncle David,' with his sturdy wife and pretty, chubby children, awaiting our arrival. Rowing rapidly down the lake, we took our last Mount Marcy lunch beside the outlet, and, early in the afternoon, returned to the Flats. The time devoted to the excursion was thus a little over two and a half days. Going and returning we had driven six miles, rowed four miles (exclusive of our visits to the Upper Pond), and walked somewhat over twenty-one. There had been no fatigue and no difficult climbing. Indeed, it would be no very serious matter to go one day and return the next. And hence we advise all travellers in that region with sound lungs, moderate strength, and any love for forest life and magnificent scenery, to make the ascent. They will assuredly bring home with them a host of pleasant memories, and many new and enchanting pictures for that precious gallery already mentioned.
When David's winning son rebelled,They smote the traitor low,And thought the monarch would rejoiceAt riddance of his foe.But in his chamber all aloneThat kingly head was bowed,And for the erring AbsalomHis father wept aloud.The ministers astonished stoodAt such a burst of grief!The traitor's death alone could bringTheir sovereign sure relief.Back to their tents in sullen gloomThe faithful warriors flee;While still he cried, 'My son! my son!Would I had died for thee!'My country's wilful erring sons,Disloyal men, but brave,Such tears of anguish now she shedsAbove the traitor's grave!Amid the pealing notes of joyFor glorious victory won,Is heard Columbia's piercing cry,'O Absalom, my son!'Ye faithful men whose crimson bloodIn her defence is shed,Upbraid her not if thus she weepAbove the guilty dead!Her noble heart is true to you,But generous as brave,She mourns in royal grief apartFor those she could not save.
It behooves every man, toiling along this dusty roadway of life, to seize upon something which he may study and elaborate, that at the end of his journey he may look back and content himself it has not been utterly in vain to himself and his fellow pilgrims. A man with a mania, or, as the Greeks have it, a man with amadness, is the true world-advancer. This madness, when cultured, ripens into talent; if original and inborn, we call it genius, and the subtile anatomists of the French schools prove it by telling us that the brains of geniuses are diseased. The healthy oyster ministers only to the palate. It is the diseased oyster that secretes the pearl for Miss Shoddy's necklace. It is the diseased brain that shines through the ages, lights men on to new epochs in knowledge, and advances the race to the millennial perfection. Immortal Jean Paul, picturing himself in Schoppe, knew this. For what is all of Schoppe's eloquent and matchless buffoonery, compared with his wise oracles, in the mad conflicts with his other 'I,' whom he saw in the mirror of his diseased brain?
Therefore, let every man have his madness, to which he may give his leisure and his thoughtful hours. Let it grow upon him, until it becomes a strong, controlling, natural element, as Mozart grew into music and Haydon into painting, and is ingrained into his very habit and method of life; for it is only thus and then he becomes a master, fitted to lead the van in the world's march. Only, let it be a praise-worthy madness, and one the development of which wilt secure for himself some new fund of knowledge, and add to the store of his fellow men.
It was somewhat in this vein I looked upon a dingy skilling species, with its rudely crossed hammers—a rough coin, bold, sturdy, and rigid as the old Norse character itself which formed the initial of my cabinet—a cabinet which has given to me new ideas of the low-browed Roman and elegant Greek; has admitted me to the arcana of their fascinating mythology; has whispered strange tales of a mummy's perfumed sleep in the shadow of the awful, eternal Sphynx; has taken me to the fall of Grenada, and, bridging over the dark lapse of the ages, has emerged with the resurrection of art into the bloody days of early English history—the grim Puritanic times, when good old John Hull, the mintmaster, regulated the finances of the colonies, and filled his own pockets with pine-tree shillings and sixpences; the horrors of Danton and Marat; marking faithfully each historic change from orient to Occident, and culminating in that latest triumph of the engraver's cunning skill—the Philadelphia Sanitary Fair medal, commemorating for our children and children's children the magnificent benefactions of the people and the self-devotion of the Commissions—Christian and Sanitary—the angels of mercy and charity, scattering blessings in the furrows of war.
Theutileand thedulceof the study of numismatics are shown in many ways. Caraccio, Aretine, and Raphael studied the figures on the old oboli and drachmas. So did Le Brun. Rubens was the most conscientious coin and medal gatherer of his time, and applied them sedulously to the furtherance of his divine gifts. Petrarch found time between his sonnets to Laura to make the first classified collection on record, which he presented to the emperor of Germany, with his well-known and remarkable letter. Alphonso, king of Naples, visited all parts of Europe gathering coins in an ivory casket.The splendid Cosmo de' Medici commenced a cabinet which formed the nucleus of the Florentine collection. Matthias Corvinus, king of Hungary, made a cabinet, and Francis I. of France laid the foundation of the Paris collection—the finest in the world. All artists recognize the value of coins, medals, and medallions. From them they get the model faces and heads of the Greek and Roman, the copies of lost statues, the folds of the chlamys and the graceful sweep of the toga, the eagles and ensigns, rams and trophies, the altars, idols, and sacrifices, the Olympian games, and the instruments of music, mathematics, and mechanics. They reveal the secrets of a thousand antiquated names and ceremonies, which but for the engraver's chronicle must have been utterly lost.
Coins throw additional light upon history. They illuminate the dark passages, clear away the obscurities, and bridge over the gaps. Hugo, in 'Les Miserables,' says men solidified their ideas in architecture before the printed page came from the brain of Faust. He might have added, they wrote their histories upon these bits of gold, silver, iron, brass, and bronze. Vaillant wrote the chronicles of the kings of Syria from a jar of medals, as Cuvier would build up the mastodon and give you the monster's habits from a tooth or a tibia. The Roman denarii give the best idea of Cæsar's well in the forum. The Epidaurian coins with the snake of Æsculapius tell in brief characters how the Roman senate sent an embassy to the great father of medicine to come and heal them of the plague. The migration of the Phocian colony to Asia Minor is succinctly told in the Φὡχη, or seal, which followed the early Mayflower stamped upon one of the earliest of the Grecian coins. The late coins of the Grecian series, with the portraits of Alexander, Ptolemy, Seleucus, Lysimachus, and others, have lent to the historian a fresh and life-like picture of those stern days, and have been silent but incontrovertible witnesses of the truth of the records which have come down to us. Cymbeline, of Shakspeare, dates back to the Cunobelin of an ancient Saxon coin, struck before Boadicea's time. Who would have known of the Grecian domination in Bactria, long after Alexander's time, but for a casual traveller who found the fact, together with a lost language, upon a series of coins unearthed in that part of Asia? The coins of Alexander fix the capture of Egypt; those of Vespasian, the capture of Judea; and those of Trajan, the capture of Parthia. They were the 'brief chroniclers of the time'—Stantonian bulletins, announcing each fresh conquest.
The coins of the ancient day—for our modern productions can hardly claim the credit—blend artistic grace and beauty. Upon them art made its first and some of its best essays. A cabinet of Grecian and Roman coins is a compact history of art from its inception to its meridian in the culmination of Grecian splendor—and since that time, if we may believe Ruskin, we only approximate, or what is worse, degrade. The gradual decline of art and the decay of the empire are traceable on the Roman series. You may follow the downward steps, until it becomes nearly extinct, to revive, after a period of stagnation, in a new feeling in the quaint but strong and rugged Gothic, the beautiful development of which may be seen in the coinage of modern Europe from the fifth to the fifteenth century. The Farnesian Hercules, the Venus de' Medici, the Apollo Belvidere, and the famous equestrian Marcus Aurelius make their appearance upon the ancient medals. Undoubtedly many of the magnificent designs of Grecian medals in particular are but the types of Protogenes and Apelles, as Houdin's model cast of Washington has been photographed, as it were, upon the Wright medal. The grand Byzantine school of art is nowhere better brought out than on the coins of that period.The details of Constantine's coins are found in the ivory dyptics and those splendidly illuminated Gospel vellums which art-despising monks kneeled upon from the seventh to the tenth century, and which art-loving monks, even in the middle of the nineteenth century, used in the decoration of their monastery halls at Mount Athos.
I come to a phase in the study of numismatics which to many will seem paradoxical—the romance of coins—and pick out here and there a few incidents, which I shall string together, not heeding closely chronological sequence.
One of the saddest pictures in all history is the first mention that is made of money. Sarah was dead, and Abraham was sojourning among strangers in a strange land. He mourned for his wife, and stood up before the sons of Heth, and begged of them to intercede with Ephron, the Hittite, for the cave of Machpelah, as a burial place. Ephron liberally offered him the cave and the field, but the patriarch insisted upon payment; whereupon the Hittite answered: 'My lord, hearken unto me; the land is worth four hundred shekels of silver; what is that betwixt me and thee? Bury, therefore, thy dead.' Abraham weighed the 'four hundred shekels of silver current (money) with the merchant,' and the field and the trees and the caves were Abraham's, and Sarah was buried. The first use of money is the last, and the cave of Machpelah, typical of the last resting place of all men, is the most important because the most imperative use of money. He that hoards and he that squanders, Crœsus and Lazarus, at the end of life, provided they have money enough to purchase their caves of Machpelah, have fortune enough, and more than enough, for they may not carry gold and silver with them through the valley of the Shadow. We buy and sell, we loan and speculate, we hoard our shining wealth as Crœsus hoarded the golden sands of Pactolus in the treasury of Delhi, but when we come to the cave of Machpelah, we leave it at the entrance, and go into the darkness unencumbered.
The earliest and standard specimen of Roman coinage was theas, subdivided almost indefinitely, and originally weighing a pound. This ponderous coin subserved a purpose which our penny does to-day. It had upon the obverse the double-headed Janus, and upon the reverse the keel of a ship, rudely done, but answering the requirements of the light, juvenile gambling known as pitching coppers.Capita aut navem, 'Heads or the ship,' the Roman boys cried, as Young America cries now, 'Heads or tails.' It is an eminently conservative custom, and Master Freddy, as he tosses his new bronze cent, may summarily answer paternal reproof by showing that Master Tullius, two thousand years ago, pitched theashis father coined, and, for aught we know, grew to be a wise emperor and a great man.
Judea is represented upon several coins of the time of Titus and Vespasian by the figure of a woman with flowing hair and bared breasts, seated upon the ground in a posture of sorrow and captivity, above her the wide-spreading branches of the palm, and behind her a stalwart Roman soldier in mail, leaning upon his spear. Thus exactly did the Roman engraver follow out upon these coins the language of the Scriptures. The Psalmist describes this posture in the lamentations of the Jews over their captivity. 'By the waters of Babylon we sat down and wept.' Still more remarkable is it that the prophet, in a passage foretelling this identical captivity, likens Judea to a woman sitting upon the ground wrapped in sorrow.
It is not often that coins have been used as vehicles of wit or for plays upon words, but there are examples upon record. Some of the German coins represent in the legends the years in which they were minted. A coin of Gustavus Adolphus also is an excellent illustration of this practice. The legend is: 'ChrIstVs DVX ergo trIVMphVs.' Take the capitalized letters or numerals from the words, and arrange them in their proper order, and you have 1627, the year in which the coin was struck. Upon a coin of Trio Lucretius, a member of theLucretia gens, who would have remained unknown to this day but for his coin, a case of punning by means of types occurs. The obverse has the head of Apollo; the reverse, the crescent moon and seven stars, or rathertriones—the constellation of the Ursa Major. The sun and moon refer to the family name, while thetrionesare an allusion to the surname. Pope Urban VIII., with execrable taste and questionable wit, upon repairing certain roads, struck a medal with the legend:Beati qui custodiunt meas vias, 'Blessed are they who keep my ways.' The 'speaking types' of the ancient Grecian coins are very curious. The coinage of Rhodes has a rose for a type, which flower bears the same name as the island. The coins of Side have a pomegranate, in Greek,side(σιδἡ); Melos, the apple, in Greek,melon(μηλον); Ancona, in Italy, the elbow, in Greek,ancon(αγκον); Cardia, the heart, in Greek,cardia(καρδιἁ).
The coins of Constantine the Great, 306A.D., will always remain of peculiar interest, as connected with the early history of Christianity. Constantine, after forcing his brother-in-law, Licinius, from his Eastern dominions, built Constantinople, and made Christianity the state religion. The principal emblem upon his coins is the Labarum, or sacred banner, bearing the monogram of Christ—the letters Χ and Ρ—being the initials of ΧΡΙΣΤΟΥ, the angles of which are occupied by the first and last letters of the Greek alphabet, Alpha and Omega, in allusion to Christ's declaration in Revelation. A rarer type of Constantine's coins has the monogram, and the legend,In hoc signo vinces. Thesignumwas the vision of a beautiful cross in the heavens, which was presented to the view of Constantine, near Milan, during his march against Maxentius. To this cross he attributed both his victory and conversion. These Christian emblems remained upon the coins of his successors until the reign of Julian the Apostate, who removed them and substituted pagan emblems. Nor do they again appear until the accession of Michael Rhangabe (811-813), when the bust and sometimes the full length of Christ is on the obverse, with thenimbus, and the legend,Jesus Christus nica(tor) rex regnantium. Upon the reverse, the emperor, with a singular degree of boldness, is seated by the side of the Virgin, the two holding aloft the banner of the cross.
We come to more modern coins. England and Ireland were in continual trouble about the standard of coinage. On the accession of Mary, she declared the intention of restoring the old standard of silver coinage, viz., 11 oz. 2 dwt. fine, to 18 dwt. alloy; but, instead of that, the new coinage was a pennyweight lower than that of Edward. Nor did it mend matters that her handsome face and Philip's were on the obverse. The wits of the day had many a joke over it; and Butler's sarcastic pen could not omit the opportunity of writing:
'Still amorous, fond, and billing,Like Philip and Mary upon a shilling.'
The first manifestation of displeasure between the mother country and the colonies was with Massachusetts, of course. The old Bay State was as impatient toward masters then as later in the Revolution against George, and still later with the slaveholders. Charles II. was displeased with the colonists for coining money, which he considered his royal prerogative, and intimated to Sir Thomas Temple that they must be punished, and the business stopped. Sir Thomas was considerable of a wag, and showed the kingone of honest John Hull's shillings, on the reverse of which was the pine tree. The king asked him what sort of a tree that was. Upon which Sir Thomas replied that, of course, it was the royal oak, which had saved his majesty's life. The king smiled at the courtier's wit; but it is not reported that he allowed Hull to continue the coinage.
The proverbial misfortunes of Ireland have attended even her coinage, and her troubles in that direction commenced as early as the reign of Henry VII. He coined sixpences for Ireland worth only fourpence in England. Mary issued base shillings and groats for Ireland, and Elizabeth issued still baser ones, while she purified the coinage of England. James I. struck copper farthings of two sizes, that if they failed in England, they might be used in Ireland for pence and halfpence. Charles I. established a mint in Dublin, but, in the confusion attendant upon his death, the Irish lost it. Cromwell gave them tokens in place of coins of the realm; and James II. base silver money, made principally from brass cannon, and even this alloyed stuff was gradually diminished in size. White metal followed, then lead, and finally tin. George I. granted a patent to William Wood in 1737 for coining pence and halfpence for Ireland, but he coined them of smaller size than was stipulated in the patent. Dean Swift, with his merciless satire, drove them out of Ireland, and his majesty, having no use for them in England, sent them to his American colonies. Circulating media were scarce here at that time, and anything in the shape of coins was welcome. George II. did better for Ireland, and gave her honest coins. In 1760 the famousvoce populihalfpenny appeared, a company of gentlemen in Dublin having obtained permission to issue them. There was a bit of quiet revenge in this halfpenny. The head of the sovereign, though apparently done in the usual manner of the king's portrait, was in reality a portrait of the Pretender. The coins attained a considerable circulation before the trick was discovered, and then they were suppressed.
Coins have figured in sermons. Bishop Latimer, on the 8th of March, 1549, delivered the following sarcastic sermon. On a previous occasion he had spoken jestingly of the new currency of Edward VI. For this he was accused of sedition, which charge he answered thus:
'Thus they burdened me even with sedition. And wot ye what? I chanced in my last sermon to speak a merry word of a new shilling, to refresh my auditory, how I was like to put away my new shilling for an old groat. I was therein noted to speak seditiously. ... I have now gotten one more fellowe, a companion of sedition; and wot you who is my fellowe? Esay (Isaiah) the prophet. I spake but of a little prettie shilling; but he speaketh to Jerusalem after another sort, and was so bold as to meddle with their coynes. 'Thou proud, thou haughty city of Jerusalem.Argentum tuum versum est in scoriam;' thy silver is turned into what? into testiousscoriam, into dross,' Ah! seditious wretch! what had he to do with the mint? Why should he not have left that matter to some masters of policy to reprove? Thy silver is dross; it is not fine; it is counterfeit; thy silver is turned; thou hadst no silver. What pertained that to Esay? Marry, he replied a piece of diversity in that policy; he threateneth God's vengeance for it.
'He went to the root of the matter, which was covetousness, which became him to reprove; or else that it tended to the hurt of poore people; for the naughtiness of the silver was the occasion of dearth of all things in the realm. He imputeth it to them as a crime. He may be called a master of sedition indeed. Was not this a seditious fellowe, to tell them this even to their faces?'
The three-farthing piece struck in Elizabeth's reign is often mentioned in the poets. Shakspeare has an allusion to it in King John. He introduces the bastard Falconbridge, ridiculing the personal appearance of his legitimate elder brother, having just before compared him to a half-faced groat:
'Because he hath an half face, like my father,With that half face would he have all my land.'
Farther on, he says he would not have such a person (body):
'My face so thin,That in mine ear I durst not stick a rose,Lest men should say, Look where three farthings goes;'
alluding to the rose which was on both the obverse and reverse of the coin. Beaumont and Fletcher, in the 'Scornful Lady,' show the difference between the penny and three-farthing piece, and inform us of a knavish trick then practised, to impose upon ignorant people the lesser as the greater coin. Lovelass, speaking of Morecraft, the usurer, says: 'He had a bastard, his own toward issue, whipt and thin cropt, for washing out the rose in three farthings to make them pence.'
In England, during the reign of George III., an act was passed to amend an act of the 51st of the king, respecting the gold coin and the notes of the Bank of England. By this act the provisions of the former statute were extended to Ireland, and the notes of the bank there were placed upon the same basis as those of the Bank of England. While this act was passing the House, the following epigram appeared in the public papers:
Bank notes, it is said, once guineas defiedTo swim to a point in trade's foaming tide;But ere they could reach the opposite brink,Bank notes cried to gold: 'Help us, cash us, we sink!''That paper should sink, and guineas should swim,May appear to some folks a ridiculous whim;But before they condemn, let them hear this suggestion:In pun making, gravity's out of the question.
There is a romantic incident in the early history of Massachusetts, which has been often told. Money was scarce, and in 1652 the General Court passed a law for the coinage of sixpences and shillings. Captain John Hull was appointed the mintmaster, and was to have one shilling in every twenty for his labor. All the old silver in the colony, wornout plate, battered tankards, buckles, and spoons, and especially the bullion seized by the buccaneers then sailing the Spanish Main (for all was honest that came to Hull's melting pot), was brought in for coinage, and the mintmaster rapidly grew to be the millionnaire of the colony, and suitors came from far and wide for the hand of his daughter. Among them was Samuel Sewall, who was the favorite of the plump and buxom miss. Hull, the mintmaster, roughly gave his consent: "Take her," said he, "and you will find her a heavy burden enough." The wedding day came, and the captain, tightly buttoned up with shillings and sixpences, sat in his grandfather's chair, till the ceremony was concluded. Then he ordered his servants to bring in a huge pair of scales. 'Daughter,' said the mintmaster, 'go into one side of the scales.' Mrs. Sewall obeyed, and then the mintmaster had his strongbox brought in, an immense ironbound oaken chest, which the servants were obliged to drag over the floor. Then the mintmaster unlocked the chest, and ordered the servants to fill the other side of the scales with shillings and sixpences. Plump Mrs. Sewall bore down hard upon her side of the scales, but still the servants shovelled in the bright, fresh pine-tree shillings, until Mrs. Sewall began to rise. Then the mintmaster ordered them to forbear. 'There, you Sewall,' said the magnanimous old money maker, 'take these shillings for my daughter's portion. Use her kindly, and thank Heaven for her; for it is not every wife that is worth her weight in silver.' And Master Sewell took Mistress Sewall and thirty thousand pounds (not avoirdupois, but sterling).
The liberty cap was first used as an emblem by the committee of safety organized at Philadelphia early in 1775. At a meeting on the 31st of August of that year, it was resolved by the committee that Owen Biddle provide a seal for the use of the board, about the size of a dollar, with a cap of liberty, with this motto: 'This is my right, and I will defend it.' Upon the first cent issued by the United States Mint for circulation, in 1793, the cap appears. This cap is the Phrygian cap, and all nations recognize it as the badge of liberty. When Spartacus rose at the head of his fellow slaves against their Roman masters to obtain liberty, his followers were distinguished by this cap. Though their effort was unsuccessful, the principle of liberty still exists, to be fought for until the last manacle is struck from the last slave. And mankind has recognized that early struggle for freedom by adopting the cap as one of the attributes of the goddess of freedom.
The freaks of currency are singular. The early Greeks bartered with cattle; hence we derivepecunia(money) from pecus (the flock). Cowry shells have bought slaves on the African coast, and wampum answered for money with the Indian, The Carthaginians, Frederick II. at the siege of Milan, Philip I. and John the Good, kings of France, used stamped leather, the latter inserting a silver nail in the centre. St. Louis, of France, issued the black coin made of billon. The Anglo-Saxons used rings, torques, and bracelets. Homer says the Greeks carried on their traffic with bars and spikes of brass. Salt is the money of Abyssinia, and codfish in Iceland. In Adam Smith's day, the Edinburgh workmen bought bread with nails, and drank from foaming tankards paid for with spikes. Marco Polo found mulberry-bark money in China, stamped with the sovereign's seal, which it was death to counterfeit, as was the case also with the Continental currency of our own country. The first families of Virginia, now fighting for the ideas of aristocracy and labor owned by capital, are the lineal and quite recent descendants of shiploads of women exported from the crowded capitals of Europe, with little regard to character or condition, and bought at so many pounds of tobacco per head. The cannon used by James II. in his desperate struggle for the throne, were melted up and coined into the famous gun money; and the bells of Paris which tolled over the horrors of the guillotine, in the bloody days of Robespierre, met a similar useful end. Charles I., with a Vandal hand, melted up the plate of the aristocracy and the almost inestimable relics of Oxford into siege pieces. In 1641, Massachusetts enacted that wheat should be received in payment of debts; and during the French Revolution, the convention, upon the motion of Jean Bon Saint André, discussed the propriety of making wheat the standard of value.
From coins to wealth is but a step. The ancients surpassed the moderns in splendid wealth and lavish extravagance. Seneca, writing superb treatises in favor of poverty, was worth nearly five millions of dollars. Lentulus, the astrologer, made his black arts yield him over three millions. The delighted heirs of Tiberius found nearly thirty-six millions in his coffers, and in less than a year Caligula spent the whole of it. Milo's debts were Titanic, amounting to six millions. Cæsar had a list of creditors whose name was legion, before he obtained any public office; but he was soon enabled to present Curio with six hundred thousand dollars, Lucius Paulus with four hundred thousand, and Servilia, the mother of Brutus, with a trifle of a pearl worth over thirty thousand.Mark Antony's house was sold to Messala for over half a million, and Scaurus's villa was burned at a loss of over twelve millions. Otho spent over fourteen millions in finishing the wing of a palace commenced by Nero. One of Caligula's dinners cost a million dollars; and one of Heliogabalus's breakfasts, twenty-seven thousand dollars, Œsopus, the actor, swallowed a pearl worth eleven thousand dollars, and Apicius, the gourmand, ate over seventy-seven millions during his worthless life, and then committed suicide, because he was reduced one day to only a hundred thousand dollars in his purse.
I hold in my hand a huge iron token which Ptolemy struck in commemoration of his conquest of Egypt, and by its side the new two-cent piece of the United States, fresh and sparkling from the Mint at Philadelphia. The one antiquated, rude, corroded, and begrimed in its long conflict with time, and the other bright and vivid, its field and exergue unmarred, its emblems and legends clear and sharp. The coin of Ptolemy has a history. The obverse gives us undoubtedly the head of Jupiter, the cloud bearer, rugged, massive, stern, iron featured, taurine neck, hair in great serpentine coils and shocks; the reverse, a magnificent spread eagle, and the inscription in Greek,Basileus Ptolemaion. Ptolemy, flushed with the victory he had won for Alexander, issued it over two thousand years ago. After subserving the purposes of Athenian barter, some swarthy Egyptian obtained it; but our friend the Egyptian, in time, was gathered to his fathers. He was embalmed, and slept in the shadow of the Pyramid, where his royal predecessors were sleeping, and by the side of the eternal Sphynx, whose riddle he could not read in life. Perhaps death unsealed the mystery of those stony lips to him. The token was placed in the mummy case upon the Egyptian's lips, perhaps as Charon's toll. But, in that event, evidently our friend the Egyptian never crossed over the black river of Death, but is still wandering—a miserable shade—along its banks, seeking rest, and finding none. Token and Egyptian remained in their tomb while Thebes flourished and decayed, Tyre and Sidon crumbled into ruins, Rome, mistress of the world, cowered beneath the scourge of Goth and Vandal and Hun, and the earth was eclipsed in the night of the ages. Still the Pyramids towered toward heaven, the Sphynx gazed on with calm, earnest eyes, Memnon made music of welcome to the sun, and our token sealed the shrivelled silent lips of the Egyptian. The world emerged from its night. Dante and Aquinas, Copernicus and Galileo, Luther and Melanchthon, Gutenberg and Faust, Kant and Schlegel, Bacon, Leibnitz and Newton, Watt and Morse, tore away the seals before our token saw the light. It came forth into a new world by the hand of a missionary, preaching a religion founded three hundred years after it closed the lips of the Egyptian. The heathen god was upon its field, but the Christian religion had set aside the old mythology of which it was a representative. I turn from this relic of the past to the coin of the present, and upon the latter I find the acknowledgment of that religion, and of dependence upon its immutable Author: 'In God we trust;' and from this legend I augur deliverance from the troubles that beset us, the vindication of outraged laws, the Union of dissevered fragments, the return of peace to our distracted land, the integrity of the Republic.
People refuse to believe in miracles because they esteem, them incredible: how, then, do they believe in existence—in the being of anything? Is it credible—to human reason, I mean—that anything should be without a cause? Nothing, so far as we can judge,ever comes tobe without an efficient cause—something that goes before, with power to bring that which comes after.
But existence is an indisputable fact: we must believe it, whether we can or not.
Oh yes, one may say, but there is an infinite Being from all eternity, and He has produced all other forms of existence.
Very well; but if that be so, do not let us trouble ourselves about what are called miracles. They come very easily after the creation of light—the creation of sun and moon and stars; or even of nebulous matter, so constituted that by its revolution in space it may generate these wondrous orbs.
But there is a difficulty, it seems, about laws—natural laws: we are not to suppose that they will ever he violated. But there is another law above all these; all at least of the inanimate world,i.e., that the forces of brute matter are subject to the will, or whatever is analogous to will, in any living creatures. The law of gravitation is one of the most universally operative; but every bird rising upon its wings, every dog in its leaps, yea, the grasshopper springing from the earth, sets this law at defiance. Almost every common law of matter is set aside by the ingenuity of man, as put forth by that most truly spiritual faculty, the will.
Are we then to suppose that the Almighty has so tied his power to agencies purely material that He can never perform an act except under their regulation? This would leave Him with no discretional power whatever—with no such liberty even as that which He has bestowed upon every creature that has will, or anything like it. Is this the idea of a God infinite in power, as in wisdom and goodness? Are we to think that the Almighty has just for once set a universe in motion, and forever withdrawn Himself from all meddling with its affairs? He permits us to control the electric power: but is never permitted to direct a thunderbolt upon the guilty, or to turn one aside from any path it might incline to pursue!
Miracles! Is it then so much more wonderful that water should be turned into wine, than that a little water and a little earth, under the rays of the sun, should be turned into the beautiful flowers and luscious fruits of our gardens and orchards? These same elements are even now maturing gapes, which, with a little management, under merely natural forces, directed by a human will, may produce wine fit for the wedding feast of a king.
Or, in another line of thought, we may ask, Is it much more difficult to call back a living soul and unite it again to its former body than in any way to produce that soul at first?
These and the like considerations apply to the subject of prayer, and the special favors which it is believed to bring. We men are perpetually turning the forces of nature where we please, and for the most special purposes: can we for a moment imagine that the Almighty has less of this power of control than we?