Old family; or, The Setons of Scotland and America

342 AN OLD FAMILY. [a.D. 1821
from the city, and completely land-locked for small vessels, and affords excel-
lent shelter. It is a pleasant ride from the port to the city, and the manner of
riding still more pleasant, as the horses are always galloped. We entered into
the custom with spirit, you may depend, and put them to their speed the whole
way to the city, where we had been invited by our Consul to a ball, which
was attended by the Governor and other distinguished persons of the place.
The city is much handsomer than Valparaiso, and contains many churches
and convents, and one or two fine squares. In point of cultivation it forms an
agreeable contrast to the barren hills of this place. We remained there but
three days, when we bent our course again for Valparaiso, where we are still.
It is said we wait here to know the event of Lord Cochrane's attack on
Callao, our captain, from motives of delicacy, not wishing to be present at
the time it is made. I have had an opportunity of witnessing some of the
extraordinary customs of the country in Holy Week. The day before yester-
day being Maundy Thursday, all the Catholic ships in harbor wore their
colors half-mast, and their yards a cock-bill or in a zigzag, careless position,
expressive of mourning, and in the evening a stuffed effigy of Judas, with
a sword by his side, was hung at the jib-boom ends. On Good Friday they
amused themselves by keel-hauling, beating, shooting, ducking and con-
cluded at night by burning him. To-day, about ten o'clock, they squared
yards, mast-headed their flags, and all fired salutes. To-morrow will be
Easter. Oh, my beloved mother, what scenes does this happy day bring to
mind ! But, alas, they are past. Heaven grant they may return ; we can
only hope it. Do, my beloved mother, use every means to preserve your
health and my dearest Kitty's. I know you will, it is only yourself I fear
you may neglect ; you know how much my happiness depends upon it.
God bless you, and our dear Kit and Richard — a thousand loves. Re-
member me affectionately to all."
When he wrote the following letter his mother was dead.
"Macedonian, Off Boston Light,
" June 19th, 1S21.
' ' My Beloved Mother, — At last my fondest wishes appear on the point
of being realized, and happiness, like a star from behind the clouds of a
dark and stormy night, seems breaking on my view. But, alas, the horizon
is not yet clear — and my poor, trembling star, how easily overclouded. Vou
may imagine how anxiously I wait your first lines. The last I received from
you was dated in May, 1S20, one year and more back ; and what great
changes one year may produce, I fear to think on. Do write quick, and let
me know how you are — let me know all. Kiss Kitty for me, and remember
me to our friends at the Mountain. I shall keep my long stories until we
meet : in fact, I feel too wild to say more.
" Ever your loving,
" William Seton."