arga. Instantly they
rushed to the graveyards, tore open the tombs, and collected the bones
and putrefying corpses. The beautiful olive trees were felled, an
enormous funeral pyre arose, and in the general excitement the orders of
the English chief were defied. With naked daggers in their hands,
standing in the crimson light of the flames which were consuming the
bones of their ancestors, the people of Parga vowed to slay their wives
and children, and to kill themselves to the last man, if the infidels
dared to set foot in the town before the appointed hour. Xenocles, the
last of the Greek poets, inspired by this sublime manifestation of
despair, even as Jeremiah by the fall of Jerusalem, improvised a hymn
which expresses all the grief of the exiles, and which the exiles
interrupted by their tears and sobs.

A messenger, crossing the sea in all haste, informed the Lord High
Commissioner of the terrible threat of the Parganiotes. He started at
once, accompanied by General Sir Frederic Adams, and landed at Parga by
the light of the funeral pyre. He was received with ill-concealed
indignation, and with assurances that the sacrifice would be at once
consummated unless Ali's troops were held back. The general endeavoured
to console and to reassure the unhappy people, and then proceeded to the
outposts, traversing silent streets in which armed men stood at each door
only waiting a signal before slaying their families, and then turning
their weapons against the English and themselves. He implored them to
have patience, and they answered by pointing to the approaching Turkish
army and bidding him hasten. He arrived at last and commenced
negotiations, and the Turkish officers, no less uneasy than the English
garrison, promised to wait till the appointed hour. The next day passed
in mournful silence, quiet as death, At sunset on the following day, May
9, 1819, the English standard on the castle of Parga was hauled down, and
after a night spent in prayer and weeping, the Christians demanded the
signal of departure.

They had left their dwellings at break of day, and scattering on the
shore, endeavoured to collect some relics of their country. Some filled
little bags with ashes withdrawn from the funeral pile; others took
handfuls of earth, while the women and children picked up pebbles which
they hid in their clothing and pressed to their bosoms, as if fearing to
be deprived of them. Meanwhile, the ships intended to tr