The daily dispatch. [volume] (Richmond [Va.]) 1850-1884, 1853-05-09

IDLY asked:
"Where gre the people'-Where are the
masses, from whose bosom ] draw my soldiers,
nv seamen, my artifcers, my laborers!"
Quicker than fash oflightning they crowd.
ed upon her regal vision. Scores, torn TO rib
bons, lay scattering in railway tunnels, where
they had fallen victims to human cupidity.-
A hundred, suddenly borne from their beds by
an avalanche Of water. were hurried into eter'
nifty, by human negligence. Sixties in one
place, seventies in another, and dozens all
over the country, the helpless victims Of a re-
morseless element, lay in charred and black
ened, heaps as sacrifices to human comfort,
convenience and glory. They had perished,
deep in the bowels of the earth. while hewing
riches out Of grim chambers for the advance
ment Of mankind at large. Thep had warmed
works the factory, ploughs the main, and
heaps up a magnifcence which
Not Babylon,
Nor great Aleairo, eqaa lied in all
Their slores
And they died unmourned-scarcely remem.
bered by their accident-hardened kilh and kin.
While their requiem is sung in casual para
graph, their elegy is written in later and
more appalling catastrophe, and SO they ale
forgotten. No
Ardennes waves above them her green leaves,
Dewy with Nature g teardrops;
although they died in nobler caus, than any
that ever marshaled armies in
Battles magnifeently stern array,
Their remains.
In one black bur ial blent
are consigned to oblivion; and the only harps
that hymn their praise are stea m.pipes kissing
and shrieking over land and sea.
The vision as it deepened in horror, exposed
the bottom OF the sea, strewed with thousands
upon thousands of corpses of true-hearted sal.
lors. There they lay, in their fathomless grave,
pale, mute evidence of the peril to be encoun
tered in the pursuit of that commerce which Co.
vers the seas with ships, and brings the nations
ofthe earth together. The ocean heaves hugely
around them, exulting in its prey /; while the
millions who are clustered on the land little
think that the cotton and silk they wear has
cost the life of many a gallant SEAMAN.
Her Majesty being the Queen of the Main,
shed bitter tears at this sad spectacle, and
turning her eyes to the broad expanse of ocean
spread out before her gaze, saw it dotted with
vessels, whose white sails giistened in the
MONDAY sun.
The decks were crowded whitman beings
men, women and children-who had dared
the perils of the storm. the sharp edges of un-
seen rocks, the lightning's blast, and the un.
certain chances of fortune in a distant cline,
in search of the daily bread they could not
obtain in their own "dear native land.'
"Those emigrants are from your dominions,"
whispered the voice in her ear; "three hundred
thousand of them annually leave your shores
to enrich that great continent, now darkened
by that slavery which your Majesty so griev.
ously laments, but which at no distant day
will control the destinies of the world. What
Freeland discards as surplus, it receives
W ith the open arms of affection"
"The spectacle saddens me, said the Queen,
"for l can read sorrow, deeply blended with
hope, on the countenances fthat ocean bound
multitude. The sacrifice of country, home,
and friends, is not half redeemed by the pros.
pect of a brighter future. Their hearts yeaIn
after the ties they have left behind them, per
haps forever. There is the husband thinking
of his wife and little ones, the lover of his
sweetheart, the maiden Of her numberless
sweet associations, and the lone man, with the
ivy-shadow creeping into every cell of his
heart, 's covertly wiping away the tear shed
over the only thing in lite left him to love-his
country. Sad-oh, frightfully sad-must be
the necessity that drives SO many true hearts
away from my Empire Hark the strains OF
music are waited to my ears They come on
the sigh laden air like requiem for the BAN
ished living. 1t is
Home, home, sweet homei
and l see the decks are vet with tears, and
that hearts are throbbing that never wished to
throb again!"
One vessel in that mourpful feet filled her
Majesty with vague but shuddering apprehen-
sion. She saw the clouds. over its track in the
distance had no silver lining. And as her eye
pierced the dim vault of time, she read its
destiny.
The moon hath twelve times changed her form,
From glowing orb to crescent wan,
Mid skies of calm and scowl of storm,
Since from her port that ship hath gone:
But ocean keeps its secret WE'LL
And though we know that all Ia DER;
No eye hath seen-no tongue can tell
Her fate she ne er was heard OF morel
Oh! were her tale of sorrow known,
,Twere something to the broken heart;
The pangs of doubt would then be gone
And Pancy's endless dreams depart
II may rot be:-there is no ray
By which her doom may explore;
We only know she sailed away,
And neer was seen nsr heard Of morel
Such was the grief song of friends left be.
hind, but TO the queenly gaze the veil of
darkness was uplifted. Her majesty saw the
doomed emigrant ship, two months out of sight
of land, and her hole was hot and vapory-
The shelf-like couches were occupied BY the
raving sick, and
In the dead waste and middle of the night
a shrek from a fair young girl tells all the
ship that her shame will never smile in her
face again. 1t hes gone, and in the morning
ii is cast in the sea, to be food for the sharks.
Another week out, and the mother is tossed
overboard-more food for the sharks and now
the ship is swathed up in red, and from her
depths ascend the walls of pain and the mad
dening cries OF delirium-more food for the
sharks. No water On board, but abundanc of
fever. The bread mouldy-the beef and NUT
ton putrid-more food for the sharks-and the
mate hoaise with reading the burial service.
A black clold gathers in the horizon, and
the vessel plunges sheer over the gigantic wave.
A storm!
snake all snug aloft! On with the hatch
es! Let her drive before it! shouts the cap
tain.
And as the wind howls and the lightning
glares-
Five feet of water in the hold.' whispers
the carpenter.
Gall hands to the pumps !" and the men
passengers labor and sweat for beings dearer
TO them than life, until the flesh drops from
their hands, and their hair whtens like house
tops on a moonlight winters night. The long
drawn cry of the agony of help less women and
children, sufocating below, rises above the
storm, and as the wnirling clouds and rolling