The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1855-09-25 00:00:00

A CATASTROPHE ON THE MISSISSIPPI.

Night came on, and we all toddled off to roost. I
am habitually a very sound sleeper, dropping off the
moment I turn in, and never awaking till daylight. On
this occasion, however, I awoke about two o'clock, a.m.,
and, do what I would, I could not coax myself to sleep
again. While tosOng from side to side, I felt the vessel
strike, as if gently touching a bank, and wood being a
good conductor of sound, I heard water, as it were, gurgling
in. My first idea was, "We are snagged ;" then, re-
membering how slight tie concussion had been, I calmed
my fears, and turned over on my side, determined to bottle
off a little more sleep, if possible. Scarce had the thought
crossed the threshold of my mind, when men with hasty
steps rushed into the saloon, banging frantically at the
cabin doors, and the piercing cry was heard, " Turn outif
turn out ! we're sinking." Passengers flew from their
beds, and opened their doors to get what scanty light the
lamps in the saloon might afford. A mysterious and
solemn silence prevailed : all was action ; no time for
words ; dress, catch up what you can, and bolt for your
life. As I got to the side of the vessel, I saw a steamer
' alongside, and felt the boat I was in careening over. A.
neighbour, in fear and desperation, caught hold of me, as
a drowning man catches at a straw : no time for compli-
ments, this, when it is neck or nothing ; so, by a right-
hander in the pit of the stomach, I got quit of his clutch,
and throwing my desk over to the other boat, I grasped the
o
wooden fender and slid down. Thank God, I was safe !
'oa. r
the.
alonga
my companion was already safe also. It was about half-
pastrdr drizzly, wet
more
oe
planktr morning,epasws
passengers,
egqrosut
ot
aenn ddbaoerakvr
e, exceptboard
ofs otheme
boat,
ofa t
sinking
the
flame u
t°c
luggage were saved. The crew of the sound boat had hard
work to keep people from trying to return and save their
luggage, thus risking not only their own lives, but at the
same time impeding the escape of others. From the gal-
lery above I was looking down upon the wreck, lit up by
the lurid light of some dozen torches, when, with a crash
like thunder, she went clean over, and broke into a thou-
sand pieces. Eighty head of cattle, fastened by the horns,
vainly struggled to escape a watery grave. It was indeed
a terrific and awful scene to witness. From her first
striking till she went to pieces not a quarter of an hour had
elapsed ; but who was saved ? Who knew ? and, alas ! that
',must add—Who cared ? The crew worked hard enough
to rescue all, and to them be every credit for their exer-
tions; but the indifference exhibited by those who had been
snatched from the jaws of death was absolutely appalling.
The moment they escaped, they found their way to the
bar and the stove, and there they were smoking,
drinking, and passing the ribald jest, even before the
wreck had gone to pieces, or the fate of one-half of their
companions had been ascertained. Yet there was a scene
before their eyes, sufficient, one would haveimagined , to have
softened the hardest heart and made the most thoughtless
think. There, among them, at the very stove round which
they were gathered, stood one with haggard eye and
vacant gaze, and at his feet clung two half-naked infants;
a quarter of an hour before he was a hale man, a hus-
band, with five children; now, he was an idiot and
a widower, with two. No, tear dimmed his eye, no.
trace of grief was to be read in his countenance;
though the two pledges of the love of one now no more
hung helplessly round his legs, he heeded them not; they
sought a father's smile—they found an idiot's stare. They
cried : was it for their mother's embrace, or did they miss
their brother and sisters ? Not even the piteous cry of
motherless infancy could light one spark of emotion in the
widowed husband's breast—all was one awful blank of
idiotcy. A wife and three children, buried beneath piles of
freight, had found a wretched grave; his heart and his reason
had fled after them—never, apparently, to return. Surely
this was a scene pre-eminently calculated to excite is
those who were, by their very escape, living monuments of
d-od's mercy, the deepest feelings of gratitude and com-
miseration ; yet, there stood the poor idiot, as if he had
not been; and the jest, the glass, and cigar went on with
as much indifference as if the party had just come out of a.
theatre, instead of providentially escaping from a struggle
between life and death. A more perfect exhibition of
heartlessness cannot be conceived, nor do I believe any

114

other part of the world could produce its equal. The im-
mediate cause of the wreck was the steamer H. R. W.
Hill running' into us, owing to misunderstanding the bell-
signal ; most providentially she caught alongside of us
after striking ; if she had not done so, God alone
knows who could have been saved. As far as I could
ascertain, all the first-class passengers were saved. Do
not stare at the word first-class, for although in this
country of so-called equality, no difference of classes is
acknowledged, poor helpless emigrants are taken as deck-
passengers, and as freight is the great object, no space is
set apart for them ; they are stowed away among the cargo
as best they can he, with no avenue of escape in case of
accidents, and with the additional prospect of being buried
beneath bales and barrels. I believe fifteen passengers
perished in this way : one poor Englishwoman among the
deck-passengers fought her way through the freight, and,
after being nearly drowned and trampled to death under
the hoofs of the cattle, succeeded in escaping. A slave-
merchant, ;with about a dozen negroes, managed to save
all of them, inasmuch as, being valuable, he had them
stowed away in a better place. The moment the wreck
was completed, we proceeded up the river, wasting no
time in trying to save any part of the cargo or luggage.
My own position was anything but a pleasant one, though
I trust I was truly thankful for my preservation. I found
I had _managed to throw my desk between the two
steamers, and it was therefore irrecoverably lost, with all
my papers, letters of credit, journal, &c. I had also lost
everything else except what I had on,—rifle, guns, clothes,
—all were gone. A few things, such as money, watch,
note-hook, which I always kept in my pockets, were all
my stock in trade. Fortunately my friend had saved his
papers, and thus our identity could be established at New
Orleans. In the course of a few hours we saw a fine
steamer coming down the river, in which we embarked,
and again pursued our journey south. In the afternoon we
passed several pieces of the wreck: the shores were
covered with the casks of pork and mustang liniment
which had formed a great part of our freight. At one
place, a large portion of the wreck was made fast ashore,
and being 'plundered by the settlers on the bank; boxes
and trunks were all broken open and cleaned out—little
boats were flying across the river full of pork and other
prizes—it was an universal scramble in all directions, and
appeared to be considered as lawful plunder by them as if
they had been Cornish wreckers. It was hopeless to try
and recover anything, so we continued our journey, and
left our goods to the tender mercies of the landsharks on
the banks.

The preceding is a fair specimen of our author's
descriptive talent, and although by no means free
from the blemishes of style to which we have pre-
viously alluded, the scene and circumstances are
nevertheless depicted with skill and effect.

Little Millie and her Four Places. By Margaret
Maria Brewster. Edinburgh : Thomas Con-

stable and Co.

The object of this simply-written, and, though
simple, really eloquent little tale, is to inculcate
the beauty and usefulness of patience and docility
on the young, particularly of the lower classes.
The story is that of a village school-girl, the
daughter of a widow, who, with the best inten-
tions for her daughter's future welfare, maintained
her in such a position at the village school as
secured for her the fullest amount of elementary
education afforded by the humble seminary ; but
anxious, in her mistaken kindness, to save the
poor girl from over labour, the indulgent mother
kept her entirely ignorant of household work.
Forced by narrow fortune, the little girl, who had
been the quickest and most successful pupil of
the school, as well as the idol of her mother's
care, has to betake herself at an early age to
domestic service. Here the accomplishments she
had acquired at school are found to be sorry sub-
stitutes for that more practical training which the
unthinking kindness of her mother had prevented
her from acquiring, and the absence of which
subjects her to bitter and oft-repeated humiliation.
Possessed, however, of really good natural sense,
and imbued with the principles of Christian
patience and humility, she attracts the attention
of several parties, who, fortunately for her, impart
in gentle and persuasive ways the knowledge of
those household duties of which she was ignorant,
thereby rendering her at once useful and happy
in her humble sphere. In the progress of the

SUPPLEMENT TO THE LIVERPOOL STANDARD.

story, Amelia Linton, the " Little Millie " of the
tale, passes through four " places" as probation-
ary scenes in the brief and inartificial drama, in
the course of which she arrives at last at the
enviable position of a really intelligent and useful
domestic ; one who, knowing her duties, performs
them from a sense of duty, instead of rendering
her services in a perfunctory and disdainful
manner. Throughout the whole of her training
the admirable working of the " law of love " is
carefully and delightfully inculcated. Ultimately,
as in all such cases, poetical justice is done, and
" Little Millie " becomes the happy wife of a
happy and good " farmer husband." The tale,
as already said, is artlessly told ; but the tale-
weaving is the least valuable portion of the
and is obviously subservient to the good
lessons conveyed in the course of its develop-
ment.- It is eminently calculated to be use-
ful, and should form part of every school
library in the kingdom. Within its few pages
will be found practical teaching for all
classes. The harmony resulting from affection
is touchingly indicated by its contrast with the
evil agency of tyrannical sway—in its few per-
suasive chapters the heart is touched while the
reason is satisfied. A useful chapter in this little
manual will be found in the " hints to young girls
going to service." On the whole Miss Brewster
has rendered good service, particularly to the
humbler classes of society, by the publication of
this unpretending work.

The Museum of Science and Art. Edited by Dr.
Lardner. London : Walton and Maberly.
This useful and interesting miscellany of popular
science has now reached its seventh volume, and
still continues as fresh and instructive in its con-
tents as these were when it first courted general
attention, In the volume now under considera-
tion we have plain and suggestive expositions of
the phenomena of tides and other matters of
terrestrial importance, together with popular ex-
planations of various astronomical peculiarities,
including a comprehensive as well as popular
exposition of the nebular theory. In optics the
prevailing opinions of scientific men are lucidly
shown, and some of the most pleasing experi-
ments with optical instruments are carefully ex-
pounded.
The Christian Family Advocate, Edinburgh

Murray and Stuart.

The September number of this pleasing serial
continues to discuss religious and moral topics
with its customary propriety and success. Its
well-qualified editress has commenced to enrich
its pages with a series of chapters on English
composition, the second of which appears in the
present number. This is a new and useful feature
in such a publication, and it is one which must aid
greatly in extending the popularity of the work,
which also is deserving of encouragement from
the sensible remarks it contains on Education.

LAURA G.RAHAHE ;
OR, THE RESULT OF A REVERIE.

LAURA GRAHAME stood where they had left
her ; the " farewell" of the grave Walter Elliot
and her gay cousin still rang upon her ears, and
Grace's warm kisses still burned upon her lips ;
she returned their farewell with her usual smiling
dignity, and stood motionless, watching their re-
treating forms until the trees hid them from her
eyes. Gradually the smile faded from her lips,
and a look of deep settled sorrow clouded her
young face ; the easy dignified attitude was lost
in the drooping figure and dejected expression.
We will leave her thus, lost in painful reverie, and
sketch for our readers her previous history.
Laura Grahame was left an orphan when only

1°76.
05
[SEPTEMBEr; ,—; ---
o pr,
. con ts
three years of age ; her father died' 0-e ;to
. hinl Off'
tion, and her mother soon follow----,4 1%0
grave. Mr. Danvers, her mother's tortsi
adopted the orphan, _and. no parent's clinq
be more tender than that which her
aunt aunt lavished upon the little Laura- bicivor
owned large estates in the West Indies, wool f
became the property of the orphan. a 001,0
was about ten years old her uncle an jiii c
moved there, with Laura and. their ° 0,
iie
Grace, then just seven years of age- ifl/ ills
They had been but one year in. their ,00/900
when Mrs. Danvers was taken dange'bet
and the physicians soon pronounced 4
hopeless. , 1, no so
It was a darkened room, in,wwen, 4, Atipli
save the low breathings of the inTsaufgettioi
stealthy movements of Moma, the old n. ~, h
be heard. Laura sat by her aunt's Easwoool7
her fevered hand in one of her own e in
while the other was pressed upon Wivor
burning brow. A strange feeling of s 1
presentiment of evil kept her silent. of,
" Laura," said Mrs. Danvers in s ~11°
tone. Aor o
"I am here, dear aunt Emily. OF- iolv
for you ?"
;11141,00161
" Nothing, darling. My poor ch,--0,, 0,
lost your own mother, and now I, vill°oo',ool
to fill her place, am about to leave yotiltir
" Oh, aunty, how can I do Niro,•oe
sobbed the child, all her long NEP' faal
bursting forth. bijo);er I°
'
" You have been a good, dutifal c , 9°
darling, and a great blessing to ille c dile
must be a double daughter to year ti,ii, ,
and a dear, older sister to my Grace. liatrl'At
" Oh, if I were but older," salco 0",,i1
would be her mother, as you have 10044, rip
"You are old enough, Laura, t° , folertiol
influence over her. She loves you yo
you can, by • example and affectil tbyietride
good or evil. You are serious siiiirairgo,
beyond your years, while Grace is CiPi.ett°
and gay, but affectionate and frank,,- 0 P tiii '
her, Laura, by love, as I would ' ef te
were I to remain." al° be °
Aff
"I will, I will, dear aunty l eile oci
itill
cation and interests shall alwa/s' 13 ts "t 0
her good." eAig 0 Ile yt
" Poor Laura! you are young t 10ts-oa
need a mother's care yourself ; b,ll 50 le
de I
you. Remember, she has 0114 als 01
father." nlise toel)
the 4O 4.es . ~ .
Faithfully did Laura keep 4 o,' sV pi;
the dying. Young as she was s' od, ' fole ble
obligations it imposed upon her' sifsi.bjlJ9
said, her own interests always gamed "; vv.
cousin's. Laura's tasks were Orsic: lot of
diligence, in order that wiled racy° 00
assistance in hers it should "these tifiefootoyl,
There was a warm love between cold tors of!
less ones that nought but deatl! Neil / poly
WallVtherenEllLioatu,raa
ywouansgamboauntinnEheerasitiViii?o,s4o;;
was much interested, cam gr. jey
year tbe .e vir
father had been for m
iite
partner in business, andanVirYaStueru'dona firlll,effi,ll2tero/,
his own father, sought and I°tl haudsclot P
his former partner.a
mlleediwcsal stlieclebaatcl ooraj
iliv
gent young man,
hcleoaslethapspevliecraetliyo,natnodhtih. his h
poh:yess'iciloitto siorvescretioo4, ;
a winter in a warmer dims .ti, bizt wad cip.ii
Mr. Danvers to pass it vil ctel e' orlY ei
was expe c e a ,i
accepted, and Walter , in the to .0 ~
It was a bright clear unie, sicl‘? hagfr,l
November, when e arrive Week t
with his long sea volaging fall/.0
house. Grace was sPen gr.
Walter, 13' d
van= with Mrs. Ellis ;