tainment was a storm at sea, with the wreck of
the "Halsewell," East Indiaman. No pains were spared to picture the
tempest and its most striking effects. The clouds were movable,
painted upon a canvas of vast size, and rising diagonally by means of
a winding machine. The artist excelled in his treatment of clouds, and
by regulating the action of his windlass he could direct their
movements, now permitting them to rise slowly from the horizon and
sail obliquely across the heavens and now driving them swiftly along
according to their supposed density and the power ascribed to the
wind. The lightning quivered through transparent places in the sky.
The waves carved in soft wood from models made in clay, coloured with
great skill, and highly varnished to reflect the lightning, rose and
fell with irregular action, flinging the foam now here, now there,
diminishing in size, and dimming in colour, as they receded from the
spectator. "De Loutherbourg's genius," we are informed, "was as
prolific in imitations of nature to astonish the ear as to charm the
sight. He introduced a new art--the picturesque of sound." That is to
say, he imitated the noise of thunder by shaking one of the lower
corners of a large thin sheet of copper suspended by a chain; the
distant firing of signals of distress from the doomed vessel he
counterfeited by suddenly striking a large tambourine with a sponge
affixed to a whalebone spring, the reverberations of the sponge
producing a peculiar echo as from cloud to cloud dying away in the
distance. The rushing washing sound of the waves was simulated by
turning round and round an octagonal pasteboard box, fitted with
shelves, and containing small shells, peas, and shot; while two discs
of tightly-strained silk, suddenly pressed together, produced a hollow
whistling sound in imitation of loud and fitful gusts of wind.
Cylinders, loosely charged with seed and small shot, lifted now at one
end, now at the other, so us to allow the contents to fall in a
pattering stream, effectually reproduced the noise of hail and rain.
The moon was formed by a circular aperture cut in a tin box containing
a powerful argand lamp, which was placed at the back of the scene, and
brought near or removed from the canvas as the luminary was supposed
to be shining brightly or to be obscured by clouds. These contrivances
of Mr. de Loutherbourg may now, perhaps, be deemed to be of rather a
commonplace description--they have figured so fr