The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1855-02-08

tOlds roll IN Drlghtncss> ana uescellu III
NOW the rush into tho rocky bay.
Sakihg the eternal barriers Of The land
Aal oceans face IL like u battle plain,
Wasre q ant demons combat hand To hand
B6sassu Elliott
Uwas . wild and wicked morniEg, in the
f-.t red light OF which Eadwulf, awakening
from the restless and uneasy sleep into which
\. Lal last night fallen, among the scattered
br,lshwood growing on the seward slope OF
the sand hills of Lancashire, looked across the
vide sands. now left bare by the recess of the
,il,. stretching away TO the bleak coasts of
We,tmorelamd and Cumberland, and the huge
mountain ridges, which might be seen indis-
,ne,ly looming up blue and massive in the dis
lance inland, distinguishable from clouds only
br the hard abruptness of their outlines, as they
rli sharp and clean against the lurid sky of the
horizon.
Along the sea line, which lay grim and dark
f. omiuous repose, the heavens glared for q
sraa5 breadth, rs it appeared to the eye, with
Wild brassy light, above which brooded a
solid belt of purple cloud, deepening into black
as It rose upward, and having a distinct, solid
looking edge, scolloped, as it were, into huge
rounded masses, as material as if they had been
earthly hills, instead of mere piles Of accumu-
lated yapOr.
These yolumed masses lay motionless as yet,
ia the brOoding calm; but, al upward to the
zenith. the sky was covered with tortured and
distracted wrack-wreaths, some black as night,
some Just touched by the sun, which was ari-
sing unseen by mortal eyes behind the cloud
banks which mustered so thick TO the eastward,
aud some glowing with fiery crimson CLEAN,
as if they issued from the mouth of a raging
furnace.
Everything was ominous of storm, but every
thing as vet was calm, tranquil, and peaceful.
in the very quiet however there was some
thing awful, something that seemed to whisper
Of coming horror. The wide sands lay gray
and eaden at the feet of the observer, reflect
ing the lowering clouds which overhung them,
except where the brassy glare of the horizon
tnged tier extreme verge with an angry rust
ruored hue, that seemed 10 partake the nature
Of shadow rather than of light.
The face Of the Saxon fell, as he gazed over
the fearful waste beyond which Law his last hope
OF safety; for though he had never before seen
those trescherous sands, he had learned much
q. their nature, especially from the outlaws,
with whom he had found his last shelter and
he knew that to cross them certainly and in
safety, the passenger on foot should set out
With the reccding tile, so as to reach the mid
abvrnth Of ouzy channels and halftreacher-
Gus sand banks, through which the scanty and
divided rivers Of tic iSir lake land found their
way oceauward, when the water was at its low
Isl ebb.
Instead of this. however, so heavily had he
sept toward morning, the utter WEAKNESS OF
ms limbs and exhaustion of his body having
completely conquered the watchfulness<of his
ANXIOUS mind, that the tide had so long run
out leaving the sands toward the shore, espe-
csig at this upper end of the bay, bare and
iarl as beaten road, that it might well be
doubted whether ii had not already turned, and
might not be looked for, ere he could reach the
mi-channel pouring in, unbroken, as it is
wont 10 10 IN calm weather, over those bound
less fats, with n speed exceeding that of horses
here was no time for delay, however; for,
from The report of the horseman who had over
taken HIM Just before twilight, he could not
doubt that his pursuers had not halted for the
lght farther than five or six miles in his rear !:
- That their arrival might be looked for at
any moment, on any one of the headlands
along the shore, whence they would have no
c'hr1i'yin discerning him at several mile. dis
lance while travelling over the ight-colored
Alriacc Of the sands
Inward. therefore, he FASTENED, as fast as
i'' weary limbs could carry him, hardly CON
Scious whether he was flying from, or toward,
lie greater danger. He had a strong suspi-
''n that the flood would be upon him ere he
'aoaid reach the channel of the Kent: and
MAJ he should find it an unfordable river, girdled
I' painless quicksands. lie knew, however,
,-a' DE- hS chances of escape what they might
J.! IeISlStng onward, his death was as certain,
2rang" fortunes, as anything sublunary can
". called certain, should the Normans overtake
h'in' red-handed from what they were sure to
regard As recent murder.
'n therefore, he fled. into the deceitful waste.
~ hls'' the sands were hard, even, and solid,
~. - cool and damp under the worn and bis
-'4 leet OF the wretched fugitive, that they
sS,e MN an immediate sense Of pleasurable
ie' ana retreShment; and for three or four
"''''S ne travelled with such ease and rapidity,
a. compared to the pain and lassitude with
"''cA' on the past days he had stumbled along
'''F me stony roads and across the broken
c",Y'TN, that his heart began to wax more cheer.
Ia' and his hopes of escape warmed into some
'hng tangible and real
Ere long, the sun rose clear above the ea,t
'H banks, and all seemed still fair and tran
t1n' The sands, dry as vet, and firm. smiled
f''N'h- bright under the increasing warmth and
'>.Fe OF the day, and the little rivulets, by
""ch the fresh waters oozed to the deep, gilt
'ei Ike silver nbands, chequering the yellow
eNpanse
Inc very gulls and terms, as they swooped
!'!9nsly about his head, screaming and diving
~ ,Ae sunny air, or skinned the sands in pur-
I"' OF such small fry as might have been left
-! NE Retreat of the waters, seemed by their
a,i and happiness to give him fresh hope
strength to support it.
OCCASIONALLY he turned, and cast q hurried
INC toward the hills he had just left, down
M -" 'ae slant rays were streaming to the limit
I0 Inc green grass and scattered shrubs
ea,l va! to the bare sea-sands and, as from
.i '- ANXIOUS scrutiny of the ground he return
" MS forward progress without discovering
az Signs OF peril, his face lighted up anew,
en-. rs advanced with freer and holder foot.
-" 80 weary was he, and so worn with his
aSl tolls, that he made but little real progress
- "heh he had been already an hour on the
us he had accomplished little more than
-, miles of his route. The sands, from
point at which he had entered them, over
ra''s' The city of Lancaster, and almost due
III - rom that city, to the nearest accessible
l-u'ahd OF the opposite shore, were not less
1u nine miles In extent, the deepest and
,I dangerous parts being those nearest to
%rther coast; but, measured TO the place
-. -. winch he was making, a considerable dis.
Iuce up the estuary of the Kent, they were at
's :, three miles longer.
Two or three channels the fugitive had al,
,s IJ! crossed, and was rejoiced at finding the
Som, son. bottom, over which the fresh water flowed
and b TWO or three inches deep, perfectly hard
rsoal pealen at the end of his third mile he
sand. q broader expanse of water, where the
vail we're covered to the width Of a, hundred
cali ""o where the current, if that might be
Sbe current which had scarcely any percep
: s "iOuOn downward, took him nearly to the