arched portals, and others built with stone. On the other side the bank
is of earth, and rises abruptly, quite covered with trees, and looking
very pleasant with their green shades. It was a warm and sunny day, and
the cemetery really had a most agreeable aspect. I saw several
gravestones of Americans; but what struck me most was one line of an
epitaph on an English woman, "Here rests in peace a virtuous wife." The
statue of Huskisson stands in the midst of the valley, in a kind of
mausoleum, with a door of plate-glass, through which you look at the dead
statesman's effigy.


September 22d.--. . . . Some days ago an American captain came to the
office, and said he had shot one of his men, shortly after sailing from
New Orleans, and while the ship was still in the river. As he described
the event, he was in peril of his life from this man, who was an
Irishman; and he fired his pistol only when the man was coming upon him,
with a knife in one hand, and some other weapon of offence in the other,
while he himself was struggling with one or two more of the crew. He was
weak at the time, having just recovered from the yellow fever. The shots
struck the man in the pit of the stomach, and he lived only about a
quarter of an hour. No magistrate in England has a right to arrest or
examine the captain, unless by a warrant from the Secretary of State, on
the charge of murder. After his statement to me, the mother of the slain
man went to the police officer, and accused him of killing her son. Two
or three days since, moreover, two of the sailors came before me, and
gave their account of the matter; and it looked very differently from
that of the captain. According to them, the man had no idea of attacking
the captain, and was so drunk that he could not keep himself upright
without assistance. One of these two men was actually holding him up
when the captain fired two barrels of his pistol, one immediately after