 As we approached, this proved to be an aperture
wide enough to admit the entrance of a boat, and crouching as we glided
under the low, dark passage, we found ourselves in a lofty circular
cavern, with no place for the foot to rest upon except a narrow
ledge of rock, two or three feet wide, that ran round it. A mournful
interest, derived from well-authenticated facts, is attached to the
Grotta de' Schiavi—that is, of the slaves—to which its name especially
bears reference. It was here, as the sailors told us, and the _dottore_
confirmed, that in those times when the Adriatic coast was ruthlessly
swept by the Algerine corsairs, they used temporarily to confine their
prisoners, and deposit the booty they had collected. Landing them upon
the narrow ledge within the grotto, they would leave them securely
bound while they went in quest of further plunder, confident that no
means of egress, or possibility of rescue, lay before the wretched
victims they had torn from their homes and kindred.

Upon this natural platform the party now landed; and while the
greater number, laughing and talking, made the circuit of the rocks,
the physician stood near my cousin Lucy and me, and dwelt upon the
associations to which such a spot naturally gave rise.

“I never come here,” he said, “without a host of mournful fancies
presenting themselves to my mind. What shrieks and wailings, what moans
of agony must have resounded within this gloomy cave!—How truly must
hope have died in the hearts of those who entered it!—How many forms
of beauty, and strength, and helpless childhood, have here writhed
and struggled, and swayed to and fro in impotent despair, waiting till
their pitiless captors should return with fresh companions in slavery
to greet them!”

“And I,” exclaimed Lucy, the wonderful English spirit which animated
those Italian-born girls causing the blood to mantle in her cheeks, “I,
in a scene like this, can never sufficiently thank God for having made
me of a nation to whom it is owing that such things have ceased to be!
It was my dear England which sent forth Lord Exmouth's fleet in 1816
As we approached, this proved to be an aperture 
 wide enough to admit the entrance of a boat, and crouch as we glide 
 under the low, dark passage, we establish ourselves in a lofty circular 
 cavern, with no position for the metrical foot to rest upon except a narrow-minded 
 ledge of rock, two or three feet broad, that ran round it. A mournful 
 sake, derived from well - authenticated facts, is attached to the 
 Grotta de' Schiavi — that is, of the slaves — to which its name particularly 
 bears reference. It was here, as the sailors order us, and the _ dottore _ 
 confirmed, that in those times when the Adriatic coast was ruthlessly 
 swept by the Algerine corsair, they used temporarily to confine their 
 prisoners, and deposit the booty they had collect. Landing them upon 
 the narrow ledge within the grotto, they would leave them securely 
 bound while they went in pursuit of further loot, convinced that no 
 means of egress, or possibility of rescue, lay before the wretched 
 victims they had torn from their home and kindred. 

 Upon this lifelike platform the party now landed; and while the 
 great number, laughing and talking, cook the circuit of the rocks, 
 the physician stood near my cousin Lucy and me, and harp upon the 
 associations to which such a spot naturally gave rise. 

 “ I never occur here, ” he said, “ without a host of mournful fancies 
 portray themselves to my judgment. What shrieks and wailings, what moans 
 of agony must have resounded within this gloomy cave!—How in truth must 
 hope have died in the hearts of those who enroll it!—How many kind 
 of beauty, and strength, and helpless childhood, have here writhe 
 and struggled, and swayed to and fro in impotent despair, waiting till 
 their pitiless captors should return with bracing companions in bondage 
 to greet them! ” 

 “ And I, ” exclaimed Lucy, the wonderful English spirit which animated 
 those Italian - yield girls causing the blood to mantle in her cheeks, “ I, 
 in a scene like this, can never sufficiently thank God for having make 
 me of a nation to whom it is owing that such things have ceased to be! 
 It was my dear England which sent forth Lord Exmouth's fleet in 1816
 As we approached, this provtd to be an apertorw
wide xnough fo admit the entrance of a boat, and rrouxhing as we glided
under the low, dark passage, we hound ourselves mh a lofbv cirdmlar
ccvxrn, with no plage for the xoot to rest u[ov zxcept a narrow
ledge of rock, two or ehree freh wide, that rag rolnq it. A mournful
interest, derived from wsll-authtnticated facts, is attached to the
Grotta de' Dchiwvi—that is, of the dlaves—to whuch yrs name espezially
bears reference. Jt was here, as the sailors told us, aud the _dottirw_
cojxirmed, that in trose times wmvn the Ddriativ coast was rubhlesvly
wwept by the Algerine corsairs, they useq temporasimy to confine theur
prisoters, and eepusiu tie gooty hheb had colledted. Landint them upon
the narrpw oedge within fhe grjteo, they would leave them securely
bound fhime they went in quest od further plunder, convident thwt no
means of egress, or possibility of rescue, lay befoce tht qretcfwd
gictims they had torn from their homes and kigsrtd.

Uion this natural ilatform the party nlw janded; and whkle thz
frsater number, laughlng and talkung, made uhe corcuit of the rocks,
the physucian stood ueae my cousin Lucy aud me, and dwzlt uppn thr
associations to which ruch a spot natkrally gabd rise.

“I never cooe mera,” he said, “without a host os mournfuo faucies
prerentong thqmselves tl my mind. What shrieks ajd wanlingv, what moajs
of agony must have resounded xmthin this glpoky bave!—How txuly mmst
hope have diqd in the hearjs of thofe whu entered pt!—How manb forms
of bewuty, and strethth, and helpness chijdhoid, hqve herd writhed
and sttuggled, aub swayed ro and fro in impobent asspair, waiting cnlo
their pitiless caotows siould seturn with xresf cukpaniuns in slavcry
go gteet them!”

“And I,” exclahmed Lucy, the wonderfuk Cnglish skirit whish animated
thpse Italian-born gigls ceusing the nlojd to mantle in her cheeks, “I,
in a scene pikc this, can neder wufficiently thank God for having made
me of a natioi to whom it is owing jhat such things have geased to be!
Mt was my dear Angland which sent firth Lord Exmouth'x fleet in 1816
As we approached, this proved to be wide to admit entrance of a glided the low, dark we found ourselves a lofty circular cavern, with no for the foot to rest upon except a narrow ledge of rock, two three feet wide, that ran round it. A mournful interest, derived from well-authenticated is to Grotta Schiavi—that is, of the slaves—to which its name especially bears reference. It was here, as the told us, and the _dottore_ confirmed, that in times when the Adriatic was ruthlessly swept by the corsairs, used temporarily confine prisoners, deposit the booty had collected. Landing them upon the narrow ledge within the grotto, they would leave them securely bound they went of further confident no of egress, or rescue, lay before the wretched victims from their homes and kindred. Upon this natural the party landed; and while the greater number, and talking, made the circuit of the rocks, physician stood near my cousin Lucy and me, and dwelt upon the associations to which spot naturally gave rise. never come here,” said, a of fancies presenting to my mind. What shrieks and wailings, what moans of agony have resounded within this gloomy cave!—How truly must hope have the of those who it!—How many forms of and and helpless childhood, have and and fro impotent waiting till their pitiless should return with fresh companions slavery to greet them!” wonderful English spirit which animated those Italian-born girls the blood to mantle in her cheeks, in a scene like this, can never sufficiently thank God for having me of to whom it is owing that such things ceased to be! It my dear England which sent forth Lord Exmouth's fleet 1816
 As we approached, this proved tO be an apertUre
wiDe eNouGh To adMit tHe entrance of a bOAt, anD crouching as we glided
unDer thE lOW, darK PaSsage, We found OUrSELveS iN a LofTy CIrCular
CavErn, with No place for The FoOt to rest upon EXcEpt a narrow
LedGe of rock, two oR thRee feeT wIde, THat raN roUnd it. a mournFUl
inteRest, derivEd FRom welL-AuthentICAtEd faCts, is attached to thE
grOTta de' Schiavi—thAt is, of ThE SlAVEs—tO whIch its name EsPeciaLLy
bears REfERENce. iT was here, as the Sailors told US, anD the _doTtOre_
COnfirmEd, thaT iN ThoSe times when The ADriatic coAst was RUthlessLY
swept bY the AlGerIne CorsAIrS, tHey UsED teMPoRarILy tO confine ThEiR
prisOnerS, AND DepoSit The bOoty tHey had collectEd. LAndiNG thEm upoN
the nArroW lEdge wIthin tHe groTtO, they would leave Them Securely
bOunD wHilE tHey weNT in queSt oF fuRther plUnder, coNFidEnT THAt No
means of egress, or pOsSIBiLity of reScue, laY BeFoRE the wretChEd
vIctiMS They hAd toRN fRom their Homes aND kInDred.

UpoN tHis natUrAl pLatForm tHE parTy now lAnded; and While THe
greater numbeR, Laughing and taLKiNG, MaDE the CirCuit of the roCks,
tHE phySiciAN sTooD Near mY cousIn lUcY And me, and dwelt upon thE
aSsociaTions To which such a sPot naturalLY GAve rise.

“I NeveR CoME here,” he said, “witHout a Host of mourNFul fanciEs
preSenting tHemselves TO My mind. WhAt sHriEks And WAIlIngs, what moans
OF AgonY mUst have ResOunded wIthIn tHis GloOmY cave!—How tRuly must
HoPe HaVe DieD in thE Hearts of ThOse WhO enTered IT!—How maNy forMs
of BeAuTY, anD strengTH, aND HelpLeSs ChilDhoOd, Have hEre wRIthEd
and stRuggled, anD swAYed tO aNd Fro in imPotent despair, WaIting till
tHeIr pItilesS CAptors shOuld return with fresh compANions in SlaVery
tO greEt them!”

“And i,” exClaimeD LuCY, the woNderfuL EnglIsH spIRIt whiCH AnImaTeD
those ItalIAN-boRn girLs CausIng the bLood to mantle in her cHEekS, “I,
in a scene likE thIs, caN NEvEr sUFfICieNtLY thANK God for having maDe
me of a natIoN To Whom it is owINg tHaT such thIngs havE ceasED to be!
It Was my dear england whIcH senT FOrtH Lord ExmouTh's fleet In 1816
 As we approached, this pr oved to be  an a per tur ewide  eno ugh to admit t h e en trance of a boat, andcrouc hi n g as we  glid ed
unde r  t h e  lo w,  d ark  p a ss age,wefound o urselves i n a  l ofty circula r 
c avern, wit h n o place forthe  footto  re s t upo n e xcept  a nar r ow
led ge of roc k, two or three f e e twide , that ran roundi t. A mournful
int erest,  d e ri v e d f rom  well-auth en ticat e d facts ,  i s a tta c hed to the
Gr otta de' Sc h iav i—that  i s,o f theslave s— t o w hich its na me e specially 
bears referen c e. It w as her e,asthes ai lo rsto l d u s ,and the  _dottor e_ 
c onfir med, t h a t in  th osetimes  when the Adr iat ic c o ast  wasruthl essl yswept  by th e Alg er ine corsairs, t heyused temp ora ri lyto  conf i ne the irpri soners,  and de p osi tt h e  b ooty they had coll ec t e d.  Landing  themu po nt he narro wled ge w i t hin t he g r ot to, they  would le av e themse curely 
b oun d w hilet heywent i n questof fu r ther plunder,c onfident that no m ea n s of  eg ress, or po ssib i lity  ofr es cue ,  laybefor et he wretched
victims th ey  had t orn f rom their hom es and kin d r e d.

Upon  thi s  n a tural platform  theparty nowl anded; a nd wh ile thegreater n u m ber, lau ghi ngand  ta l k in g, made the c i r cuit  o f the r ock s,
thephy sic ian  st oo d near my  cousinLu cy  a nd  me , and dwelt up on  th eass ociat i ons to  whic h su ch  a spo t natur a ll y gave  r is e.
“Ine ver c omeh ere ,” he s aid, “wit hou t  a h os tof mour nful fanciespr esenting t he mse lves t o my mind.  What shrieks and waili n gs, wha t m oansof a gony must  ha ve res oun d ed wit hin th is gl oo myc a ve!—H o w  t rul ymust
hopeh a vediedin  the  hearts  of those who ente r edit!—How manyfor ms
o f be aut y ,a ndst r eng t h , and helplesschildhood,  h a ve  here writ h edan d strug gled, a nd sw a yed toand fro i n impoten tdesp a i r,waiting ti ll
their  pitiless capto r sshoul d r eturnwi thfresh  compa n ion s inslaver yto gre et th em !”

“And  I,” exclaimed Lucy, th e wond erful  En glish spi rit whi ch animat ed
t hose Itali an- bor n gir lsc ausin g th e  b loo d  to m antl e  in her c h ee ks, “ I, 
in a scene l i kethis,  ca n  never  suf ficiently thank G o d for having m adem e  of  an atio nto whom it isowi ng t hat such  t hings haveceased t ob e!
It  was m y dear  Englan d wh i ch sen t fo rth  Lord Exm out h' s  fleetin  1 8 16
 As_we approached,_this proved to be_an aperture
wide_enough_to admit_the_entrance of a_boat, and crouching_as we glided
under the_low, dark passage,_we_found ourselves in a lofty circular
cavern, with no place for the foot to rest_upon_except a_narrow
ledge_of_rock, two or three feet_wide, that ran round it._A mournful
interest,_derived from well-authenticated facts, is attached to the
Grotta_de'_Schiavi—that is, of_the slaves—to which its name especially
bears reference. It was_here, as the sailors told us,_and the _dottore_
confirmed,_that_in_those times when the_Adriatic coast was ruthlessly
swept by the_Algerine corsairs, they used temporarily to_confine their
prisoners, and deposit the booty they_had collected. Landing them upon
the narrow_ledge within the grotto, they_would leave_them securely
bound while they went_in quest of_further plunder,_confident that no
means_of egress, or possibility of rescue,_lay before the_wretched
victims they had torn from their_homes_and kindred.

Upon this_natural_platform_the party_now landed; and_while_the
greater number,_laughing_and talking, made the circuit of_the_rocks,
the physician stood near my cousin Lucy_and me, and dwelt_upon_the
associations to which such_a spot naturally gave rise.

“I_never come here,” he said, “without_a host_of mournful_fancies
presenting themselves to my mind. What shrieks and wailings, what moans
of_agony must have resounded within this_gloomy cave!—How truly must
hope_have died_in_the hearts of_those_who entered_it!—How many forms
of beauty, and strength, and_helpless childhood,_have here writhed
and struggled, and swayed_to and fro in_impotent_despair, waiting till
their pitiless captors should_return with fresh companions in slavery
to_greet them!”

“And I,” exclaimed Lucy,_the_wonderful_English spirit which animated
those Italian-born_girls causing the blood to mantle_in her cheeks,_“I,
in a scene like this, can never_sufficiently_thank God for having made
me of_a_nation to whom it is owing_that_such_things have ceased to be!
It_was my dear England which sent_forth Lord Exmouth's fleet in 1816