10 s. VIIL AUG. si, 1907.] NOTES AND QUERIES.
175
wholesale emigration as there was later to
Xew England under Winthrop.
The Virginians included a very large number of cadets of gentle families, and to subdue these Royalists Cromwell dispatched a powerful squadron. The " passive resister " seems to have settled in the Northern colony, and the roistering Cavalier in the Southern one. Next to London, Bristol had, it appears, the largest ventures in Virginia, her ships doing an extensive trade.
Unfortunately, there are scarcely any lists of emigrants extant. Mr. Hotten published those of the year 1635, relating chiefly to London ; but of Ipswich, South- ampton, Weymouth, Plymouth, Dartmouth, arid Bristol no such records (or merely fragments) exist, although we know of many
- ships which sailed from those ports to the
West Indies, Virginia, and other plantations beyond the seas. V. L. OLIVER.
Sunninghill, Berks.
DEVIL'S ISLAND (10 S. viii. 108). I am greatly obliged to the Editor for the infor- mation appended to my query ; but, looking "to the description given to me quite recently of the lies du Salut, I am much surprised -at the statement as to the salubrity of the climate. My informant gave the islands the worst of characters almost unin- habitable by Europeans from the extreme heat, and unusually pestiferous a place where meat goes putrid before it can be issued to the condamnes, and where the mortality among them reaches an unheard-of percentage. I venture to draw the atten- tion of contributors to the discrepancy in evidence. S. H. S.
BAFFO'S POEMS (10 S. vii. 449). I have
-a copy of " Le Poesie di Giorgio Baffo,
Patrizio Veneto, 1771," which I bought in
London for about two shillings over twenty-
five years ago. It is very likely that the
book is scarce, seeing that the ' Biographie
Universelle ' speaks of Baffo as " le rimeur
le plus obscene et le plus sale de son temps."
Perhaps the fact that Baffo wrote in Venetian
has saved some copies. According to the
"* Biographie,' his poems were published in
Venice (under the place-title of "Cosmopoli " )
In 1789 in four volumes 8vo. Presumably
this was a much larger book than that
published in 1771, whose place of publica-
tion does not appear even as " Cosmopoli."
In the query the comma between " Patrizio "
-and " Veneto " should be eliminated.
ROBERT PIERPOINT.
GOOD KING WENCESLAUS (10 S. vii. 426 ;
viii. 33). Following the reply of my good
friend H. K., and in recognition of the labours
of Profs. Kalousek and V. Zeithammer in
connexion with our carol, I beg to submit
an attempt at translation of a poem on the
episode by Vladimir Stastny. The familiar
features of Neale's rendering occur here, and
it is probable that Stastny has followed the
Latin original mentioned by H. K. I am
assured that the history and personality of
the martyred prince Vacslav are shrouded
in folk-lore.
ST. WEXCESLAUS.
Cold, frost, and snow reigned, and the night air
was keen ; Prince Wenceslaus wakened his man, Podivin.
" Dear servant, arise, seek we now for the Lord Where the bright gate of heaven the sight will afford.
The whole day long humbly the people serve me ; To serve Christ in her turn fain my spirit would be.
Let ITS carry some gifts wood, warm garments, and
bread ; There is need of all these in God's service," he said.
" I see not, serene highness, which way lies our
road To our heavenly Lord in His holy abode.
This night it is dreary and wild all around ;
Can our Master, the Christ, by our efforts be found?"
" Follow thpu in my steps through the snow thick and white ;
Who is guided by love will not stray from the right."
The snow falls ever faster, more keen is the wind ;
In the saint's steps is warmth of a wonderful kind.
A marvellous brightness illumines the place,
Rays of love through the gloom from St. Wences- laus' face.
To a hut poor and wretched love shows them the way ;
Through the window there glimmers a dull, reddish ray.
A poor widow, her babe at her breast, sits within :
" Is not Bethlehem here, see, my dear Podivin ?
Here is Jesus Himself as a babe poorly clad ; Christmas gifts let us yield Him, thus will He be
glad."
Still the snow falls : afar he a cottage doth spy, Where from winter and hunger some little ones
cry. " Hearest thou, Podivin? 'Tis the Lord Christ who
calls ; Help we now in good measure His poor m these
walls." Onward still hark, there groans one forsaken and
Are we not now, my servant, at Calvary's hill ? Hear our crucified Saviour ; ' I thirst,' pleads His
voice.
Should not I, the Cechs' prince, now to serve Him rejoice?"
