tlements, with cruelty and oppression; but at length, in
1640, under Don Joao IV, it was restored to Portugal, and the island
recovered its prosperity. For a short time in 1801 and 1807, the
English held it to protect it from the French. Mr Marshall told me an
interesting story about its early discovery. An Englishman, Robert
Machin, in the reign of Edward III, fell in love with a lady, Anna
D'Abret, whose father would not consent to his marriage with her. He at
length, however, succeeded in running off with her, and embarked in a
vessel, intending to proceed to France. He was, however, driven by a
storm to the southward, and the first land he saw was that of Madeira.
He having landed with the lady Anna and some of the ship's company, the
vessel was driven out to sea. Those who remained on shore underwent
great suffering, in consequence of which the lady died. Heartbroken
Machin, refusing all food, died also, desiring to be buried in the same
grave with her whose untimely end he had caused. The survivors escaping
in a boat, landed on the coast of Barbary, where they were made
prisoners by the Moors. Having related their adventures to a
fellow-prisoner, the information at length reached the ears of Goncalves
Zarco, who certainly brought the first news of the discovery of the
island to Europe. The tale, however, is doubted; but there is an air of
probability about it, which makes me fancy that it has its foundation in
truth, and I can no more speak of Madeira without thinking of the
unfortunate, high-born, and lovely Anna D'Abret, and the bold plebeian,
Robert Machin, than I can of the Mauritius, and forget Paul and
Virginia, or of Juan Fernandez, without believing that Robinson Crusoe
lived on it.

There was something particularly cool and pleasant in the appearance of
Mr Marshall's house. The rooms were large, the floors covered with
matting instead of carpets, and the furniture consisted chiefly of
cane-bottom sofas and chairs, while in front were shady verandahs with
banana trees, their long fan-like leaves waving before them, and
contributing, by their continual movement, to keep the air cool and
fresh.

The next morning Mr Marshall went on board, and ascertained that the
ship would not sail that day, unless compelled to do so by a shift of
wind, which was not likely to occur. He accordingly invited me to take
a ride with him and two other gentlemen to the Pico Grande, above the
Curral das Freiras, when