But this scene is memorable for more ancient recollections. It was
in this spot, that once, every master of a merchant ship took off
his hat in reverence to the _genius loci_; but never dared to drop
his anchor. It was named the Pool, from the multitude of wrecks
which had occurred there in the most mysterious manner; until it was
ascertained that it was the chief resort of the mermen and mermaids,
who originally haunted the depths of the sylvan Thamesis.
There annually, from ages long before the Olympiads, the youths and
maidens came, to fling garlands into the stream, and inquire the
time proper for matrimony. It was from one of their chants, that
John Milton borrowed his pretty hymn to the presiding nymph--
"Listen, where thou art sitting,
Under the glassy, cool, translucent wave,
In twisted braids of lilies knitting
The loose trains of thy amber-dropping hair.
Listen, for dear honour's sake,
Goddess of the Silver Lake,
Listen and save!"
On the coast of Norway there is another Pool, entitled the
Maelstrom, where ships used to disappear, no one knew why. But
the manner was different; they no sooner touched the edge of the
prohibited spot than they were swept with the fury of a hurricane
into the centre, where they no sooner arrived than they were
pulled down, shattered into a thousand fragments, and never heard
of more. This was evidently the work of the mermen, who however,
being of Northern breed, had, like the usual generation of that
wild and winterly region, tempers of indigenous ferocity. But the
tenants of the Thames, inheriting the softer temper of their clime,
were gentler in their style of administering justice, which they
administered effectually, notwithstanding. Every unlucky vessel
which stopped upon the exclusive spot, quietly sank. The operation
regularly took place in the night. By morning the only remnant of
its existence was discoverable among the huts along the shore,
exhibiting foreign silks, Dutch drams, French brandy, and other
forbidden articles, which, somehow or other, had escaped from the
bosom of the deep.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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